"I'll have a burger plate, please. And a Tanqueray and tonic. How about another beer?" he asked Annabeth. "Unless I can persuade you to eat another burger?"
She shook her head. "I would really love a glass of water."
Wanda walked toward the kitchen and Doug resumed the conversation with Annabeth. "I am sad, I guess."
"It's normal, isn't it--to feel left out when someone you're close to moves on without you."
Wanda returned with his drink, placing it in front of him, then said, "The burger will be right out."
"Thanks, and a glass of ice water please."
"Be right back," said the errant waitress.
Doug once again returned his focus to Annabeth. With genuine interest and sympathy, he asked, "And how are things going with your divorce?"
"Nothing new yet. I have to go to a meeting in a couple of weeks to look over papers and discuss details. I can't quite believe it yet, in fact. It's all kind of a blur."
"Being in shock is normal."
"I guess."
"I think you're doing very well. You got a job, a new car. You seem to be very strong, to be taking charge of your life. I admire that."
"Me? Gosh, I don't know." She wondered how he could have such a good impression of her from so little, and then confessed, "I usually feel terrified."
"Starting over can feel so hard, once you've made a mistake. Nobody wants to screw up at all, let alone more than once."
"It must have taken a lot of courage for you to come back here, to leave everything you were used to for so long."
Doug's voice lowered so that no one could overhear, "My dad asked me to come and help him with the business. I felt it was the right thing to do. Besides, there was nothing holding me in Atlanta on a daily basis any longer. I can drive up and see my kids anytime I want to, but they're busy with their own lives now."
"Are they both married?"
"Betsy is--she's the oldest--a teacher. Philip is in law school. His last year."
Annabeth smiled. "Oh, how nice. My oldest--Laurel--is a display person at Saks in New Orleans. Sally works at the bank up the street, but all she wants is to be married. Actually it was her engagement party that you saw at Maggie's. Of course now those plans are up in the air, but I'm sure it will all work out."
Doug shook his head. "Who would have thought that we'd be parents of grown children, sitting here talking about adults who used to be our little kids?"
"Feel old?"
"I don't know, kind of, not old exactly, just incomplete. But I don't want to depress you. After all, it's you going through the divorce, not me. Tell me, how are you doing with your art?"
"I don't really do all that much."
"You're kidding."
"Well, I paint on furniture sometimes. Flea market junk that I decorate. Just for fun. Though I just finished painting some pieces for Etta's Knick Knack Shop around the corner."
"You know I always thought you were so talented. I expected you to do great things."
"Me? Nah!"
Annabeth thought about the evening as she drove home. She'd had a good time. It was pleasant to spend time talking to people she didn't know well, pleasant to get to know new people better. She glanced at the dashboard clock. Gracious! It was after midnight. She had been talking with Doug for more than three hours. How quiet Gull's Perch was this late in the evening. So few cars were out and most of the houses were darkened. She turned into Old Magnolia Bayou, and she rounded the corner to pull up in front of her house, which oddly was brightly lit. Sally's car was out in front as was Jackson's. Annabeth parked and walked toward her front door, but even before she could reach it, Sally came racing out.
"Mom! Where in the world have you been? I've been frantic. I just called Jackson to come over and start looking for you. I was an inch away from calling the police."
Annabeth reached her arm out and encircled Sally's shoulders in a calming gesture. "I went for a burger with Charles Gleason. Then I ran into Doug Hawkins--you know the one who sold me my car--my old high school friend. We got to talking and the time just passed. I'm sorry you were worried."
"What were you thinking staying out so late without calling?"
Annabeth laughed. "The tables have turned is that it? Am I grounded?"
Sally scowled at her mother. "I never stayed out late and you know it. That was always Laurel."
"I'm sorry, honey, really. It all just kind of happened. I'm sure it won't happen again, so don't worry."
"All right, but if you do stay out late, be sure to call."
"I promise. Now, aren't you kids tired? You have to be at work early tomorrow, don't you?" Annabeth let herself in the door, leaving Sally outside to say goodnight to her fiancé.
7
Annabeth lay in bed, the cat snuggled against her side. There was plenty of time before she had to leave for work. She glanced at the clock. Julie! She still had some telephone calls to make for her sister, reminding people of various commitments for today's art show. Fluffing up the pillows and piling them behind her, Annabeth sat up in the bed and reached for the list she'd left on the nightstand before retiring. She placed the phone beside her in the bed and lifted the receiver to her ear. There was no dial tone. "Hello?" she said.
"Boy that was quick," said Laurel, "It didn't even ring."
"Hi, sweetie, how are you? I was just going to make some calls for your aunt about today's art show."
"Guess what?" asked Laurel.
"What?"
"Southern Style."
"The magazine?" asked Annabeth.
"Well, yes."
"And?"
"And they're putting my apartment in it. The November or December issue, I think. They were here yesterday to photograph it for a section on New Orleans."
"You're kidding! What did they photograph?"
"Pretty much the whole place. Especially your paintings. And all the furniture you painted."
"Well, gee, how about that."
"I thought it was exciting. I mean it's not Architectural Digest or anything like that, but still it's kind of fun."
"I can't wait to see it."
"We did a great job. I'm surprised Design isn't knocking at the door."
"I'm glad you're so happy, dear. How are things otherwise?"
"Oh, the same. How's the job?"
"You know, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry." Annabeth paused before continuing, "I shouldn't joke. It's fine really. Charles and Chuck Gleason are both nice men. I sell ice cream, do little displays, sometimes draw a sign for them."
"And I hear one of them is in love with you."
"What?"
"Sally says you've been out late twice since you started."
"Well, gee, a hamburger and an hour's conversation with my married boss. That's not exactly violins. And how is your love life--now that's a real question."
"I've been dating this guy, Zach, if you must know."
"Yes, I must. Tell me everything." Annabeth listened as Laurel offered a few details describing her most recent boyfriend, then continued, "And how is your career?"
"It's great, really."
"I'm glad."
After completing Julie's errands, there was plenty of time before she was due at work, so Annabeth took some time to stroll along downtown at the sidewalk sale and arts and crafts show. There were tables with hand made dolls, which Annabeth admired and a variety of pottery and leather exhibits. One woman had taken some key racks and painted flowers on them, and Annabeth stopped to look at them more closely, smiling at the artist. "I paint on furniture too," she volunteered.
"Oh, do you? I've mainly stuck to these key racks and these little boxes."
"They're pretty." Annabeth examined the boxes more closely, stacking a couple smaller ones on top of a bigger on. "That makes a pretty display."
"Yes, it does look better that way. Where's your table?"
"Oh, I don't have a table here. I've never exhibited anything, though Etta has some of my things--the firs
t I've ever done to sell."
"I saw those things at Etta's. They're beautiful. I love the birds. Your things are full of life. You could sell them at shows like I do."
"Well, thanks. I never really thought of that."
"I don't make a lot of money, but I make some, and I get to do what I love."
"Excuse me," said a customer, "How much are these boxes? The whole set, I mean?"
"I should let you go," said Annabeth.
"Take my card," offered the woman. "Call me and I'll give you some pointers."
Annabeth took the card and walked off, ready to view the rest of the show. There were a number of watercolor artists, specializing in seaside scenes, as was typical of any art show in that area, plus there were oils of families and children, paintings of oversized flowers, and a general assortment of drawings and paintings of a multitude of subjects. Annabeth stopped to look at each artist's work, enjoying being part of it, and when she had covered half the displays spread over the grassy center area of town, she walked along the sidewalk, noting the bargains available.
There were tables filled with glassware in front of the antique mall, a bargain rack of clothing in front of Eunice's Dress Shop, and a display of furniture and cabinets in front of Etta's. Etta herself was standing outside, helping a customer who was buying one of Annabeth's cabinets.
When the woman walked away, Etta called out to Annabeth. "Hello! Having fun at the sale?"
"Yes, it's nice isn't it? Fun to combine a sidewalk sale with the art show."
"I sold quite a few of your pieces, you know."
"No, did you?"
"All but the child's table and one cabinet. Come on in with me."
Annabeth followed Etta into the shop and looked around. "You've sold quite a bit of everything, haven't you?"
"Yes, we've been having a busy few days." Etta reached under the counter and extracted a notebook, which listed the various items she'd sold of Annabeth's, and then she opened the cash register and counted out some money, which she handed over. "Here you go. I think you should plan on painting a couple more rockers for us right away. Okay?"
Annabeth looked down at the cash. "This is more than you estimated. Is this right?"
"I decided to price them a little high for the sale."
"That's great," replied Annabeth, clearly pleased. "Somebody actually wanted them."
"Of course they did. Now how about those rockers?"
"Okay, sure."
"I'll have Rum drop some pieces off at your house."
There were more artists displaying their work on the other side of the Pavilion, so Annabeth stepped out onto the grass once again and strolled some more, stopping to view each artist's work until she heard her name being called. She turned and saw Doug Hawkins.
"We just bump into each other everywhere in town, don't we?" she asked, smiling.
"It's the best thing about living in a town this small."
"Doug, look at this." A woman turned from an exhibit of watercolors and seeing him talking to Annabeth she walked closer, taking hold of Doug's arm. She was rather slender and tall, although not nearly so tall as Doug himself, and her coloring was vivid--dark hair and alabaster skin, with bright crimson lipstick.
"Annabeth, do you know Patsy Clark?"
"Hello," Annabeth smiled.
Patsy tightened her hold on Doug's arm as she smiled back. "Are you one of Doug's million happy customers?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I am."
"Annabeth and I went to high school together," interjected Doug.
"How nice. I wanted to show you this painting. So nice to meet you, Annabelle."
"It's Annabeth," corrected Doug.
"Nice to meet you too," replied Annabeth.
"Be sure to bring the car in for that seat belt check," said Doug.
"Oh, I keep forgetting. I'll try to do it soon."
"Great." Doug smiled at Annabeth then allowed himself to be pulled away by Patsy toward the watercolor exhibit she liked.
Annabeth continued her walk, and she enjoyed seeing the rest of the art on display. Noting some people walking along eating ice cream cones, she decided to go on to the drug store, even though she was half an hour early.
"Annabeth! I'm so glad you're here," said Debbie, the girl who usually covered the front register. "We've been swamped."
Annabeth noted three people sitting on stools at the counter eating ice cream. She took her place behind the counter and began waiting on people as they entered in search of something cool in the still warm weather of early September. Close to a dozen people filed in and out, cones in their hands, and Annabeth enjoyed the busiest day she'd had since beginning her job.
A woman carrying one of Annabeth's small cabinets walked in and sat at one of the stools. After fixing a hot fudge sundae for the woman, Annabeth listened as someone on a nearby stool struck up a conversation with her customer.
"What a cute little shelf."
"Thanks. I know, here look inside. There's a tiny bird hiding in the corner."
"Oh, how adorable. Where did you get it?"
"Etta's Knick Knack Shop up the street. It was a real bargain. Maybe half of what it would cost back home."
"I'll have to check them out."
"I think this was the last one, but they have other, undecorated cabinets."
"It's the painting on it that makes it so cute."
Annabeth placed the ice cream in front of the woman with a smile. She was tempted to reveal that it was her painting, but she remained silent. Instead she said, "Enjoy your sundae."
Julie raced into the store at that moment, little Bobby in tow. "Thank goodness," she said out of breath. "I really need to leave him with you for a few minutes. He dumped a whole box of T-shirts onto the ground."
"Gosh, Julie, I don't know. We're pretty busy now."
"You'll be good for Aunt Annabeth, won't you, honey?"
Little Bobby nodded.
"Just give him an ice cream, will you? I'll be back in a few minutes."
Before Annabeth could say another word, Julie dashed away, still breathless.
"You're going to have to be a really good boy, all right? How about a dish of ice cream?"
Little Bobby nodded and sat quietly eating his dish of chocolate ice cream. It didn't take him long to finish it and then he spoke up, "I'm ready to leave now."
Annabeth laughed, "Oh honey, I can't leave now. I work here." She looked under the counter, found a few sheets of paper, pulled a pen from her purse and set them in front of him. "How about making me a drawing?" Little Bobby drew a couple of dinosaurs, a house, two cars, and by then he was quite bored and began twirling on his stool.
Annabeth handed the last waffle cone to a woman who wanted a double scoop.
"Excuse me," said the next customer, "I'll have one of those."
The pizzelle machine was already heated up, and Annabeth was in the process of making more cones, but she couldn't make them as fast as she could sell them. "I'm sorry--it will be a few minutes for a hand made cone. We've been very busy."
The man nodded and Annabeth dashed back to the end of the counter where little Bobby was twirling madly. "Bobby! Don't do that. You're making me dizzy."
Little Bobby stopped for a moment then twirled around again.
Annabeth reached out her hand and caught him by the arm, halting his spin. "Stop it. I mean it. Draw another picture." She turned, removed the waffle, and folded the flat shape into a cone, placing it into the holder on the counter, then poured some more batter on the machine. "I just want to let it cool a bit so your ice cream doesn't melt," she said to the man who was waiting.
Three high school girls came in chattering and laughing and asked for regular cones, which Annabeth prepared, sending them on their way. "You've been awfully patient," she said to the man who was tapping his foot. She reached for the cone, but at the same moment, little Bobby lunged for it as well, causing the stand to topple onto the floor, shattering the cone.
A Southern gentleman, the man refused to be rude, and instead said, "Maybe I better just have a sugar cone."
Annabeth sighed in relief, "Oh thank you." She gave him extra large scoops on his double dip and offered him the cone, saying, "There's no charge."
"Why thank you," he replied and left.
Annabeth opened her purse, removed some money to pay for the man's and little Bobby's ice cream and placed it in the cash register. She then leaned over toward little Bobby, saying "I want you to calm down this minute."
"I'm bored," he whined. "I want to come back there with you."
There was a small stool where Annabeth sometimes sat during the deadest part of the day, and she placed her nephew on this seat and admonished him to stay there while she washed and dried the stand and replaced it on the counter. She formed another cone, placed it inside and poured some more batter.
A couple of women came in then, taking seats at the far side of the counter, and Annabeth prepared their banana splits quickly. One of them looked toward little Bobby, who began to scream. "Oh!" she exclaimed.
Annabeth turned to see her nephew with his hand on the pizzelle machine, which he quickly removed, then began to cry.
"Bobby!" she exclaimed, racing toward him. His hand was badly burned, and she held it under a stream of cold water. "Oh Bobby."
The child continued to wail as she held his hand under the water.
Her voice grew soothing, "Come on now, calm down. I know it hurts, but you'll be all right."
Charles came out from behind his pharmacist's window and he walked over to where Annabeth was tending little Bobby. He took the child's hand in his own and examined it. "Come with me, young man."
Annabeth watched as Charles applied a dressing and a bandage to her nephew's hand, and eventually the boy's howls subsided into whimpers. Charles led him back to the stool, poured a soda from the fountain and gave it to the child. He looked all around. "Where's his mother?" he asked Annabeth.
Her stomach knotted in embarrassment and worry. "He's my nephew. My sister asked me to watch him for a few minutes. She's running the art show outside. I'm sorry...."
"Pretty inconsiderate of her to dump the boy on you like that when you're so busy isn't it?"
He wasn't angry at her even though little Bobby had caused a disturbance! Annabeth smiled gratefully at Charles. "Well, she counts on me. After our mother died I kind of raised her."
A Change of Heart Page 10
