by Judith Post
Lee stared at her. "Angie didn't send you?"
"Hardly. I heard about Wendy through Ethan, after she broke up with him to come here."
Lee's expression turned hard. "So what are you—a matchmaker? Why do you care if they're together?"
"I don't. It's healthier for kids to break up at that age. They're too young to know what they really want. But it's sad to see a girl throw a scholarship away, especially a girl with as much potential as Wendy."
Lee nodded. "She's a smart one, like her mom."
Wendy blinked and looked confused. "Was mom good in school?"
"Didn't she tell you? A top student, at least, until her senior year when she met me. Then she had other things on her mind." He grinned, pushed off the couch, and went to the kitchen. "Anyone want a beer?"
When no one answered, he popped off a bottle cap and took a long swig before heading back to his spot on the couch. "Wendy reminds me a lot of her mom, only prettier."
Wendy winced when he said that. "Mom's pretty inside."
"That, she is." Lee took a deep breath. "The thing is, Wendy knows I need her right now. Things haven't been going so well for me."
Sheri leaned forward, her expression filled with concern. "She said you have cancer. How serious is the diagnosis?"
His gaze slid to Wendy. "Haven't got all the results back yet, but the doc said it didn't look good."
"What kind do they suspect? Lung cancer? Colon?"
"Don't rightly know."
Sheri frowned. "How are they going to treat it?"
He took another swig from his beer. "Not sure. All I know is that I'm too weak to work. I'm getting unemployment, but that doesn't go far, and it won't last long."
Sheri exchanged looks with Morgan. "I'm sorry. I don't understand. I thought Wendy came here to help nurse you."
Lee ran a hand through his hair. "Don't know where you got that idea. For now, what I need most is a paycheck, just enough money to hold me over till I'm on my feet again. Wendy's been applying places."
"You won't be on your feet if you don't get treatment," Sheri said. "The cancer will spread, and you'll get worse."
"Forget the damn cancer, will you?" Lee sprang to his feet, began pacing. "The thing is, Wendy loves me, wants to help me."
"Do you love her?"
Lee's dark eyes snapped with temper. "She's my daughter, isn't she?"
Sheri repeated the question. "Do you love her?"
"What do you think!"
"And you want the best for her?"
"We all want the best, don't we? Doesn't mean we get it."
"Wendy has a shot at it. You want that for her, right?"
Lee stopped in front of Sheri's chair. "It's time for you to leave."
"I don't believe you have cancer. I don't even think you're sick."
He reached for her, but stopped when Morgan stood abruptly. The man wasn't just tall and muscled, Sheri realized. He could look intimidating when he wanted to. Lee looked from one of them to the other. "Get out."
Morgan put his hand under Sheri's elbow and led her to the door.
Sheri turned to Wendy. "Your mother wants the best for you, has worked hard for years to make it happen. Think about what you're doing to her."
Lee started toward them, and Morgan hurried her outside. They walked to his van in tense silence. It wasn't until they were halfway back to the hotel that he said, "You made your point. That's all you could do."
She blinked tears away. "That is a sad excuse of a man."
"Let's hope Wendy sees him for what he is."
Supper was a somber affair. Finally, Morgan laid down his fork and said, "Let's go swimming, work off some of this gloom."
Sheri pushed her plate away and rose to join him.
They swam laps, side by side, up and down the pool. When Morgan finally climbed the ladder to leave the water, he looked at her, surprised. "When you said you swam like a porpoise, I didn't believe you."
"I belong to the Emerald Hills Y. Swim every other day."
"Is there anything you don't do full throttle?"
She considered that. "Cooking."
"Thank the Lord, there's something."
They called it an early night and decided to leave town after lunch the next day. "You've done all you can," Morgan told her. "And it won't be fun, sticking around here now we've met Lee."
It took a long time to fall asleep. She'd failed. She thought Wendy would call. She didn't. Worries tormented her. Would Lee hit her? Verbally abuse her?
It was a struggle, the following day, to have a pleasant lunch. They stopped at an old-fashioned diner near the highway. Sheri was halfway through her blue plate special when her cell rang.
"Miss Hudson?"
Sheri held her breath. She looked at Morgan and mouthed, "Wendy."
Wendy rushed on. "I thought about what you said about Mom. She gave up everything to raise me, and I'm doing the same thing she did at my age. She must hate that. Dad's asleep, went to bed a couple of hours ago. Will you come get me? I left him a note."
"We're on our way. I'm so glad you called." She'd hoped Wendy would change her mind to be true to herself, instead of just thinking about her mother, but she'd take what she could at the moment.
Half an hour later, they pulled into the dirt driveway, Wendy ran out of the house with a single suitcase in her hand, and they drove away. Wendy wasn't in the mood to talk, and Sheri didn’t blame her, so they listened to the radio and CDs until they pulled into a town for supper. They made it a quick burger stop, then hit the road again.
Wendy slept for the rest of the drive home. Morgan turned on the audio book anthology again, and Sheri counted the hours before they reached Emerald hills. It was late before they pulled into the lot behind Wendy and Angie's apartment. The door opened at the top of the stairs, Wendy flew out of the backseat of the van, and mother and daughter hugged at the base of the steps.
Angie turned to wave to them and call "Thank you," then Morgan pulled away to leave them to their reunion.
When they reached Sheri's Queen Anne style home, he got out of the van to open her car door. He carried her suitcase to her front porch, and before she could dip inside, he hugged her to him. When she straightened in his arms, startled, he said, "This is because I'm so proud of you. You did a nice thing. I'm glad I was a part of it."
His voice rumbled in his chest. A friendship hug. She relaxed and let herself enjoy it. Damn, the man felt good. Then he gently released her and said, "See you again soon. You owe me a lunch, but I'll cook it here. And I'll make sure I have cabbages from Midu's stand."
She watched his taillights fade in the darkness before she stepped inside the house. Then she leaned against the closed door and braced herself. When he ate the coleslaw, and looked at her, and nothing happened, it was going to feel…. She might as well get ready for disappointment.
* * *
He called three days later. "I have scallops, fresh corn on the cob, and the makings for coleslaw. Are you ready?"
"Today? Now?"
"No reason to waste time. My horoscope says the planets are favoring me. Now it's all up to the cabbage."
She took a deep breath. "Might as well get this over with. Come on over."
"Will you put your hair in a ponytail for me?"
"Done."
He lowered his voice. Its huskiness gave her goosebumps. "And wear your sundress?"
"I haven't washed it. I have a red one. Will that do?"
"Even better. See you soon."
He pulled into her driveway at 11:30. She went out to greet him. He stopped to look her up and down and licked his lips. "You look good enough to eat."
"You like the dress?" She felt shy. She hadn't felt shy for a long time.
"Honey, I like everything about you." He grabbed his fixings from the van. "You can be my sous chef. Let's do this."
She found that she enjoyed helping him in the kitchen.
"I need a cup of mayo," he told her. Then, "Do you have any apple cider vi
negar?"
He let her whisk. She followed directions. By the time they sat down to eat, her nerves felt jumpy.
He quirked his eyebrow. "Are you nervous the cabbage might say yes, or worried it could say no?"
She bit her bottom lip, trying to decide. "Both."
His eyes glittered. "That's a good answer. Means there's hope." He took the first bite, then another, and stared at her. "Well? Are you going to trust me or eat some to find out for yourself?"
She took three, fast bites of slaw, then looked up from her plate. Shit damn and hot flashes! A certainty settled over her. She blinked, amazed. "I must have made a mistake."
He laughed, threw back his chair, and came to lift her in the air. He swirled her in a circle. "Miss Sheri Hudson, I do believe the horoscopes and cabbages have spoken, and you're mine."
She clung to him, almost too happy to breathe. From the kitchen, she could hear the faint strains of music on the radio. Do you like Pina Coladas, getting caught in the rain….? She let out a deep sigh and pressed her forehead to his.
"Let's dance."
"I can't. I'm not good at it."
He whirled her around the room, bent and kissed her nose. "With me, you can."
Her feet agreed. So did her heart. She had a silly feeling that very soon, she was going to begin to enjoy all kinds of things that were new to her.
SOLE RESPONSIBILITIES
This entire series is dedicated to GoodReads
(because the groups I belong to are awesome!)
Also, thanks to Michael Prete at http://vertex10.com/
for creating my book covers.
I love them!
Gino knelt in front of the woman and slid her foot into the leather shoe, imported from Italy. He hadn’t seen a more shapely leg in all of his years of shoe sells. She looked to be in her late thirties with long, wavy, light-brown hair and hazel eyes. A few crinkle lines fanned at their edges. Laugh lines? Maybe not. She seemed the serious sort. When she stood, she was tall and slender with an athletic build.
If he'd met her somewhere else in town, he might flirt with her, but never in the shop. "Business is business," his father always said. She was a looker, but she had a vulnerable quality about her. Not his typical type. He usually went for party girls, brief encounters for purely good times. But there was something about her….
Just stop right there, he told himself. His entire life had been turned upside down recently. The last thing he needed was another complication.
She walked back and forth from her chair to the mirror on the far wall, testing out the comfort of the high heels that had caught her attention. She had graceful, dancer-like movements. Attractive and lithe. She scowled at her reflection, displeased with a tiny stain on her knee-length, white skirt. She came and stood before him.
“The sign in your window said 50% off. On these too?”
Gino nodded. “I’m getting a new shipment at the beginning of the month. I need to make room for them.”
She bit her bottom lip, deliberating. “I’ll take them.”
Gino gave a quick, satisfied nod. The shoes suited her. She’d have a pair of beautiful heels at a bargain price.
She sank back onto her chair, and he helped her remove them, ready to slide her sandals back onto her feet. He picked one up and frowned at it. “These really could use new soles, you know. They’re pretty worn."
A blush colored her cheeks. Women who blushed always intrigued him. No! his mind warned. You have more than you can handle now. He pressed his advantage. "I repair shoes. It’s not a busy day. I could have them ready for you in an hour.”
She gave a quick shake of her head. “I have more shopping to do. I don't want to wear new heels to do it.”
It was more than that, he could tell. He'd embarrassed her. She wanted away from him as quickly as possible. Why the big deal? Then it hit him. Money must be tight. She'd slipped out of her sandals when she tried on the heels. She hadn't wanted him to notice how shabby they were.
A new thought blossomed. That was his special talent, wasn't it? Emerald Hills had magic tucked in every nook and cranny. Tana sold bonbons, infused with her melodic gifts. Midu sold produce to help people find soul mates. He could provide customers with a new foundation by repairing their soles. This woman needed help, and he could supply it.
“Grab a pair of those." Gino motioned toward a bin of flip flops. "I’ll toss them in for free while I repair your shoes.”
“Why would you do that?” Her tone sounded sharp, suspicious.
“They’re cheap. I won’t miss a pair, and that way I can fix your sandals.”
She glanced out the shop's window. Usually, a Saturday meant clogged sidewalks and gaggles of tourists, but the winery on the far side of town was sponsoring an all-day, barbecue contest where most of Emerald Hills' restaurants set up booths with great food at great prices. Even some of the town merchants manned sales tents there to lure customers to the event. Not Gino. A quiet day was relaxing after how busy things had been. The woman hesitated and finally asked, “How much does it cost to have new soles put on?”
There it was again. Counting her pennies. The heels she'd bought were on the deep discount rack. She'd come for today's big bargains. He could feel a smile spread through him. He might not bed her, wouldn't even try, but he could help her. That was almost as good.
He fudged his usual price. “Ten dollars," he said. "When I get finished, your sandals will look like new.” More than that, once she wore them, she’d find a new way to start a savings account, or a chance for a better job, or learn how to control her spending. Not that she looked like she spent money often. Her clothes were good quality, but he’d guess she’d had them for a long time and mixed and matched so that her outfits wouldn’t look dated.
“Like new?” She was wary of him, he could tell, but the temptation was too great. “Okay, let’s do it.”
While she rummaged through the bin of flip flops, he went to the counter and said, “Name?”
“Why do you need that?”
He looked at her, surprised. Okay, not only poor but add on paranoid. “To keep track of which shoes to give to which customers?”
She blushed again, embarrassed. “Of course. It's Evelyn,” she said. “Evelyn Newmann.”
He filled out a form and watched her slip on a pair of pink flip flops that matched her pink tank top and the pink lipstick she wore. She came to the cash register and carefully counted out the exact amount in cash, then took her ticket for her shoes and left the shop.
Gino watched her start down the street, stopping to look in one window after another. She licked her lips as she gazed inside Tana's chocolate shop, then gave a quick, little shake of her head. She moved on and paused under the red-and-white, striped awning for Lolita's mirror boutique, but didn't enter. When she came to Lexi’s jewelry shop, with a big sign in the window for price cuts, she went inside. A girl on a budget.
He picked up one of her sandals and stroked its soft leather. Soft, like her. His fingers caressed the supple straps. His thoughts flew to how creamy her skin looked. How delicious her full lips appeared when she pursed them. And how cautious she seemed. He'd lay odds that she'd been hurt, that Life had thrown her a zinger she never saw coming. Hopefully, his magic would help her, it would lighten whatever financial burden she was straining under.
He was polishing the last sandal when Bridey came romping down the steps that led to their apartment above the shop. His brother’s little girl had a mop of dark, unruly hair, like his. Her dark eyes danced with mischief, like his brother’s. What he was going to do with a five-year-old made his stomach twist with panic, but they’d make it through somehow.
Bridey marched to the counter and put her hands on her hips. Had her mother done that? Gino had no idea. He’d only met the woman briefly a few times. The last was when she’d dragged her daughter into his shop and shoved her toward him. “Your brother got himself killed playing soldier. I have a chance to be happy again, but Mick
doesn’t like kids. She’ll be better off with you. I’ve done my best for two years, but I'm just plain lonely. I need a fresh start.” And she’d turned around and stalked out of the shop.
What the hell? Gino had stood there, stunned. Should he run after her, demand that she take her daughter back? But the little girl had stared at him defiantly. He’d stared back, completely taken off guard.
When he’d learned Mario had been shot and killed overseas, the pain had bitten deep. He’d gone to the funeral, but Bridey’s mother didn’t say one word to him. He thought he understood her anger and grief. At the church dinner, he’d finally asked if she needed any help, and she’d replied, “You couldn’t talk him out of signing up, could you? So what do you think you can do now?”
She’d obviously changed her mind. Bridey watched her mother leave, then stuck out her chin and said, “If you don’t want me neither, it’s no big deal. I can take care of myself.”
The words were brave, but Gino heard the hurt in them. He’d given his best smile, the kind he used to charm the ladies. “I hope you’re telling the truth, because I don’t know much about kids, especially girls. If you stick around, you’re going to have to pitch in to make it work, or we’ll both go down in flames.”
She blinked at him. “You’re younger than my dad. Is that why you're not married with babies?”
Ahh, the same question his mother always asked. He spread his hands in defeat. “No woman will have me. Can you imagine? I’m handsome and funny, a great cook, and I can burn up a dance floor.”
“Daddy said you were a flirt.”
He grinned. His mother mentioned that often, too. “The truth is, I’m too much for one woman to handle.”
“Do you like kids?”
“Me? I’m just a big kid myself. Come on. I’ll show you around.” He’d turned the sign in the shop door to Closed and taken her upstairs to see where he lived. Then he walked her around town to introduce her to the shopkeepers and his friends. When they’d returned, he’d cooked spaghetti the way his mama used to make it and added garlic bread and a salad. That had been four months ago, and they’d somehow worked through the awkward, start-up hiccups to become a team of sorts. And one, little girl had flipped his life upside down.
