Coming Up Daffy

by Sandra Sookoo

  “Good man.” She nodded as if she’d known he’d do it all along. “Next time I go to the market, I’ll bring boxes home for you.”

  He jingled his key ring. “Why don’t you go visit Mom and Dad in Arizona? I’m sure they’d love to have you.” His parents had decided to do the snowbird thing five years ago, saying Indiana winters were too much for them. Plus, his dad wasn’t much into the farming lifestyle anymore due to a bad back. Both his parents had fallen in love with the southwest and they’d stayed. Since Dad opened up that horse riding ranch, his parents rarely made it back to Indiana. “It’s warm there and you won’t need to mess with the bait shop.” At least then I’d get some peace.

  “No they won’t and you know it. You’re stuck with me, kiddo.” She shoved the travel mug into his hand. “Unless you want to go knock up some girl in town and beat your brother to the punch on the kid thing, get your butt to the bait shop. Time’s a wasting. I’ll be along later this afternoon.”

  “Right.” The idea of hitting a woman up simply for sex without a relationship turned his stomach. He wanted the whole thing: dating, companion, and eventually a wife he’d grow old with while watching their kids attain their life goals. Yeah, in this day and age tying the knot and thinking about the long haul wasn’t exactly the most popular choice, but he’d been raised too well to cut corners.

  Besides, Grandma would beat the foolish out of him with her old wooden paddle — the one left over from her by-gone teacher days — if he did something like that.

  “All right, I’ll see you later, or why don’t you take the day off? Go gab with your friends.” As if I could be so lucky.

  “Boy, don’t annoy me more than you already have. Working at the shop keeps me young. And Ed Raynor said he might stop by. I don’t want to miss his visit. Now shoo, unless you want to start tilling the fields for corn. I’d imagine Matthew would love it if you helped him out in that chore.”

  “No thanks. He’s the farmer. I’m the bait guy. That’s it.” He stopped short of rolling his eyes. When he thought his life couldn’t suck any more, now it seemed his grandma was actively flirting with the farmer who owned the land that backed up to the Kincaide farm. “Lock up when you leave.” With keys and coffee in hand, Mark left the house.

  It’s gonna be a long day.

  Chapter Two

  Mark pulled up at Francesville Bait and Tackle ten minutes later, but even though he’d gotten there right at opening, a customer had beat him to it. A woman with a long, blonde ponytail sat on the sun-bleached bench outside the building. She stared at him as he exited his truck with his travel mug of coffee and kept on staring while he walked up the gravel drive and followed the wooden walkway until he reached the bench.

  “Morning. Are you here for bait?” He tried to ignore the way his ears heated. Of course she’s here for bait, dummy. It’s not like I’m running a bakery.

  “Worms.” When she stood, the streaks of dirt and smudges of grass were more apparent on her jeans.

  Recognition sparked his memory. “You’re Daffy… er, I mean Alice Attler, right?” Way to make a first impression by calling her that stupid teasing nickname. Mark fumbled with the lock, juggling his key ring and coffee mug, and finally the key turned. He pushed open the door, used a foot to hold it still before pulling the key free. The bells hanging on the doorknob tinkled into the silence. “Come on in.”

  “Thanks, and yeah, I’m Alice.” She came into the store while Mark retreated behind the scarred wooden counter. “I’m in need of earthworms.”

  Mark set down his travel mug and then turned on the ancient cash register. “Are you going fishing later?”

  “No.” She wandered around the small shop, stopping before each aquarium, presumably to inspect the various varieties of crickets, night crawlers, live fish, and everything else an avid fisherman or fisherwoman might enjoy.

  By the time she wandered through the displays of brightly colored fishing lures, bobbers, hooks, lines, and fishing poles, the register had finished its start-up process. He watched her while he unlocked the display counter behind the register — not that anyone would try and steal electronic fish detectors or heavy duty flashlights. It was just something to do, plus it gave him something to do with his hands. For whatever reason, he felt awkward with Alice in the store. Her petite height — probably not more than five foot, three inches — made him feel gangly. It wasn’t often he had female customers.

  “Uh, you might want to tell me what you need the worms for so I can figure out what species would be best.” The constant chirp from the crickets provided background noise for the heavy silence. Why was it so hard to talk to her? He’d seen her around town a few times, and since she was the florist and chief gardener for Francesville, she and her work always showed up everywhere in some fashion.

  Alice turned and headed toward the counter. “Oh, I need them to aerate a flowerbed. I think that’s why Mel’s daffodils didn’t bloom this year.”

  “Gotcha.” Mark couldn’t remember who Mel was when all he could concentrate on was the sway of Alice’s hips and the bounce of her curly, blonde ponytail. He cleared his throat. “Indiana soil tends to have clay in it. I suggest Alabama Jumpers. They’re the best worms for any soil, no matter if it’s sandy or clay heavy.”

  “Okay.” She propped an elbow on his counter and tapped dirt-stained fingernails on the wood. “Anything else?”

  He couldn’t take his gaze from her hands. She had such pretty, shapely fingers. “Well, you can get red worms if you don’t want the Jumpers. Depending on what you want out of the soil, the reds will aerate and fertilize, plus let the water get down into the soil real good from their burrows.” At the last second, he stopped himself from rolling his eyes. The first chance he’d had to talk to a nice-looking woman and he could do nothing except babble about worms.

  “Give me twenty-five Jumpers and fifty reds. It’s a fairly large flowerbed. Runs the length of Mel’s house.” She met his gaze and her blue eyes twinkled. “Plus, I have to assume some will escape.”

  “Will do.” On the top of her head, marring the golden strands of her hair was a big dollop of bird poop. “Are you aware you’ve been pooped on by a bird?”

  “What?” She patted around her head, and when her fingers came away smeared with the avian defecation, she stared at the mess as if mystified. “Sweet fancy Moses. I wonder how long ago that happened. Must have been right after I took off my hat.”

  A chuckle escaped him at her form of exclamation. He’d never heard anyone say that before. When she shot him an annoyed glance, he shook his head. “I’m not laughing at your bird situation, just at your saying.”

  “Oh.” She touched her head with her other hand then held both the dirty appendages out with a frown. “I picked it up from an old uncle back from my childhood. I guess it stuck.”

  Mark grabbed an old rag from beneath the counter and handed it to her. “Here. You can wash your hands in the back room if you want. I need to package your worms anyway.” Even mopping at bird poop, she was easily the cutest woman he’d ever seen. Her eyes were so crystalline blueberry-blue they were like jewels, and combined with a kissable mouth, the curly hair and a curvy figure, she had him seconds from having a meltdown of cartoon character proportions.

  “That would be great.” When she flashed a thousand-watt smile, Mark swore he heard angels sing.

  Good grief, I need to get a grip. He gestured behind him. “It’s crowded back there so just be careful.” As he moved to open the door for her and she passed into the room, he caught a floral scent. Was it her perfume or did her working with flowers make her smell so nice? His conscience prodded him to find out more. “How long have you lived in Francesville?”

  “Long enough to know it’s almost too small, but it’s got enough heart I’m not looking to leave.” She turned on the water then lathered up.

  Mark glanced around the storeroom-slash-office-slash-workroom before remembering he needed to package her requested worms
. Grabbing a couple of foam, quart-sized containers, he said, “Yeah, me too.”

  “You like it here?” She peered into the small mirror above the sink while scrubbing at her hair with a damp paper towel.

  “It’s okay. I run this shop with my grandma, but sometimes I think I want… more out of life.” Why in the world would he just blurt out something like that? He didn’t know her.

  “In what? Your job, your life?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe both. My brother, Matthew, got married recently and now I’m being more or less forced out of my home so the newlyweds can set up housekeeping.” He lifted the lid on a large, dark-sided container and used a plastic scoop to measure out the required amount of red worms. He’d done the same thing so often he knew approximately how many worms each scoop would net. Once the scoop came away with a writhing mass of dirt-covered worms, he dropped the contents into a container then repeated the steps for the second.

  “I heard about his whirlwind romance. Something about a kissing booth, right?” Alice continued to scrub at her hair but watched him in the mirror.

  “Yeah.” Mark popped lids on both containers. “So, if you know of anyone renting a place, let me know. Maybe living in town would be a good change of pace.” Of course, Grandma will throw a hissy fit. “If there’s nothing, I’ll have to try my luck in Indianapolis, which means I’d need to give up the bait shop.” For which Grandma will also throw a hissy fit.

  “I’ll ask around.”

  He nodded and crossed to a larger container. Inside, he removed a small box, already containing the required number of Jumpers. These guys came pre-packaged and were a bestseller. “I don’t really want to move, but it’s necessary. Plus, the bait gig, while interesting, isn’t what I want to do forever.” Great, just great, I’m rambling.

  Finally, Alice dried her hands on another paper towel, dropped everything in a nearby waste basket then turned to face him. She rested her backside against the sink. “What do you want to be in life?”

  “A hero.” When he realized he’d said that aloud, heat rushed up the back of his neck and into his ears. “I mean, I want to do something heroic, maybe help people. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just always be the bait guy.”

  “There are worse things.” She treated him to another grin. “I’m a fan of superheroes, myself. Of course, I have my favorites and can’t say whether I like the ones who fly or have some other power.”

  Mark gaped at her while she kept on talking about the various superheroes she admired and the ones she didn’t. Then she launched into a whole thing about penguins — the animal — and their eating habits. Her penchant for changing into barely related subjects left him breathless. When she theorized about penguin mating rituals, he grabbed onto the opening. “So, what’s your story? Are you dating anyone?” He hadn’t seen a ring on her finger.

  Her eyes went wide and her kissable lips formed a soft “o” of surprise. “Um, no, I’m not attached.”

  An awkward silence sprang up between them. She didn’t elaborate on her statement, and Mark’s tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. His pulse thundered through his veins, while heat seeped into every inch of his body. He mentally berated himself for not having the gift of gab — him, the guy who teased his short-on-words brother for not liking to converse on anything. “Well,” he cleared his throat then thrust the containers and box of worms into her hands. “Here ya go.”

  Way to go, Mark, you big freak show. He shot out of the storeroom and breathed a sigh of relief once he was safely behind his cash register. By the time Alice had followed him out and put the counter between them, his heart rate had settled into normal. “That’ll be twenty bucks.”

  “Thanks.” She dug a twenty from the front pocket of her jeans and handed it over.

  He grabbed the very edge of the bill to avoid touching her hand. If he had such a reaction to her just by talking, he didn’t want to know what would happen if they had contact. Well, he did, but he didn’t want to look like a bigger dork than he probably already was. “I guess I’ll see you around town, huh? If you need more worms, you know where to find me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She rolled her eyes as she hefted her purchases and left the shop.

  After she drove away, Mark slapped a palm against the counter. I can’t believe I’m such a chicken I didn’t ask her out. No guy ever became a hero by letting a pretty girl get the better of him. He might seem outwardly confident and had made use of joking around in the past to cover his shy attitude, but in reality, when it came to actually interacting with women — especially women he really liked — he had no clue about what to say or do. It sucked at his veneer of confident bravado and left him trembling like a teen at his first prom.

  Where does a guy go to get an injection of bravery?

  ****

  Alice returned to Mel’s house just as her friend was locking up. “I thought you’d be long gone from here.” She set her containers of worms on the ground by the brick border.

  “I know, I tried, but the washer broke and flooded the laundry room floor, then my mother called. Apparently she and Dad are coming for dinner tonight, and she forgot to tell me, so I don’t have time to take chicken out of the freezer.” As she strode down the cement driveway to her eco-friendly car her heels tap-tapped with her stride. “Someone from a local news agency called for a character reference on my ex-fiancé. Apparently, he’s come back to this part of the country.” She heaved a sigh. “Needless to say, it’s been a stressful morning.”

  Though curiosity ran rampant regarding Mel’s ex, Alice refrained from asking since the redhead was obviously anxious to leave. “All right, then. I’ll just add these worms and get out to the store. I’m sure there are a ton of orders waiting on me.” The worms sent her mind skittering back to the bait shop. She couldn’t help her smile or her blush as she thought about Mark. He’d been so funny and nervous. Was he not comfortable talking to women or had it just been her, with her dirty fingernails and bird poop in the hair? Her smile slipped a bit. Maybe he’d been humoring her. Does he think I’m a crazy woman two seconds away from an institution?

  “Hello? Earth to Alice.” Mel quirked an eyebrow. She paused with one leg inside the car. “Did something happen while you were at the bait shop? You’ve got a look.”

  “A look?”

  “Yes. Spill it.”

  “Nothing really happened.” Which was true enough. Alice sank to her knees and popped open one container of worms. “I met the owner, Mark Kincaide. He seemed nice.”

  “Oh?” Mel abandoned her car and walked around the side of the vehicle to stare down at Alice. “Did you and he hit it off?”

  “I have no idea.” Alice busied herself with distributing the worms through one section of the flowerbed. “I don’t know that much about him. He didn’t talk much about himself, but I do remember his hair.” She mentally kicked herself. Why didn’t I ask him? Why didn’t I take the initiative and find out? He is kinda cute with all those black curls. Too bad she’d been so concerned about getting the bird poop out of her hair, she hadn’t had a chance to study him in greater depth.

  “Why, Alice, you’re holding out on me!” Mel popped her hands on her hips. “You get yourself right back over there and ask him all the questions you want. In fact, why not just ask him out?”

  “I don’t know.” Alice dumped the empty container on the ground then reached for the second one. “How do I even know we’d be compatible?”

  Mel snorted. “That’s why dating was invented, silly.” She glanced at a gold watch on her slim wrist. “Crud. Listen, I really have to go, but think about it. Who knows, maybe this Mark person will be the magic guy that blooms in your personal garden. You won’t find out if you don’t try. See ya!” She threw herself behind the wheel, started the car, and then backed down the driveway.

  Alice sprinkled the worms in the second container through the flowerbed. Their red bodies wriggled all over their new home and provided a striking contrast
between the brilliant yellow daffodils. She frowned at them. “I don’t care what Mel thinks. I’m not asking a guy out. My dad will have a cow.” According to her father, it was the man’s responsibility to make the first move — and pay for dinner and hold doors for ladies. “I’ll just wait, or maybe drop a hint.” What made her friend believe Mark would be any different than other guys she’d dated? I don’t have staying power when it comes to men.

  ****

  After a night of restless sleep Alice dragged herself out of bed the next morning with a new resolve. She’d go back over to the bait shop and ask some questions about the tall cutie pie she’d seen yesterday. It wouldn’t hurt to do what Mel said and ask him out, and if he agreed, her dad would just have to deal with it. On the other hand, the worst Mark could say was no, but then that rejection wouldn’t hurt as much as being dumped. It’d be like nipping a flawed relationship before it could bud.

  Armed with that sunny outlook, she showered, dressed, hopped in her wagon before her dad got back from his morning walk, and then headed for the bait shop. Rain hit the windshield, not heavy enough to warrant turning the wipers on full speed but not light enough not to have them on intermittently. She peered at the gray skies. Not a break in the clouds anywhere. Typical spring day in Indiana.

  Alice arrived at the bait shop within fifteen minutes. She struggled out of the car, dashed up to the door, and then promptly stomped her foot when it wouldn’t open. “What the heck?” She tried it again but obviously, no one had come to unlock the door. When her knock went unanswered, she ran back to the car and tumbled inside with a few dark thoughts circling through her head. Her sneakers were wet through from the puddles in the gravel drive. “How hard is it to keep operating hours?”

  Knowing she had a stack of orders waiting for her at the flower shop, and not willing to wait around for someone to come open the store, Alice drove up the winding drive. A farmhouse and barn came into view with the same truck Mark had driven the day before parked nearby. She slid her vehicle next to his then exited the car. “What now?” A glance at the house didn’t net her any clues, so she jogged toward the barn and had barely entered before she heard Mark’s voice.