LOVE in a Small Town

by Janet Eaves

  “Chloe, what do you think about renting a limo and going to Knoxville Friday night? We could surely scare up four guys to drag along and go to some clubs. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Maureen asked as the two of them browsed the shelves of Jane Winchester’s bookstore.

  “Um… No thanks.”

  “Come on. It would cheer you up to get out among some different people. You’ve been moping around Legend too long.”

  “Maybe some other time.” Chloe picked up a paperback romance and tried to read the back cover blurb, but her eyes misted. “I don’t feel like acting happy,” she said softly.

  “Sweetie, you have got to talk to him,” Maureen said.

  Chloe didn’t even bother to pretend she didn’t know who Maureen was talking about. The whole family knew—the whole town no doubt knew—that Greg and Chloe had had a fight in the front window of the gallery on opening night. Typical that you couldn’t do anything in Legend without the entire population hearing about it.

  “You ladies need help finding anything in particular?” Jane came around the end of the bookcase stroking a small calico kitten. Jane was famous for books and for loving animals.

  “We definitely need help!” said Maureen. “Is there such a book as Relationships for Dummies? If so, Chloe needs a copy. Actually, do you have two?” She looked sheepish. Did Maureen have something going on that Chloe didn’t know about? She’d been too busy wallowing in her own misery to notice whether Maureen had been dating somebody.

  Jane smiled and set the kitten down on the floor. It pounced on a small yarn ball a few feet away. “There is a book called Relationships for Dummies, but I’m afraid I don’t have it. I can order it if you want. Or how about this?” She held out Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus.

  The cousins left a short while later, each carrying a romance novel instead of a relationship self-help book. Jane had gone through her catalog of possibilities while the cousins looked over her shoulder at the computer.

  “Well, one thing is obvious. If there are that many different books on the subject, at least you know you’re not the only one who can’t get it right.”

  “Thanks, Maureen. That helps so much.”

  “Wasn’t really supposed to help. I’m not babying you, Chloe. I want you to be happy, but you’re going to have to suck it up and figure this thing out. You. Need. To. Talk. To. Him.” She had reached her car. “Later, okay?”

  Chloe didn’t blame Maureen for being frustrated with her. She knew she had been sulky ever since the fight a couple of weeks ago. She didn’t know how to take the first real step toward making things right with Greg. She had managed some cosmetic things, and hoped Greg might realize it someday. She’d had her nephew Daniel change the back panel of the McClain Art Gallery flyer to include “before” and “after” pictures of the gallery space, and contact information for Deluxe Home Improvements. Chloe figured she owed it to Greg and the crew for the phenomenal job they’d done. She’d also asked Mike to bring her one of the business’s yard signs. Setting her artistic snobbery aside, she posted it in the front window of the gallery. She was probably making this way harder than it really was. Maybe she should have ordered that Dummies book after all.

  ****

  Greg threw a hammer against the wall and walked out of the house. No big deal about the hole he’d punched in the wall. Ed and Fred would be here next week to take care of all the plaster and drywall problems. They could deal with one more. That’s what he paid them for, after all. They’d better not complain about it.

  He’d had a lot of bad days lately, but today was the worst. That witch Chloe McClain haunted him constantly, and today she was right in front of his eyes every time he tried to do something. He had looked up from the door frame he’d been putting finish nails into—and saw her stupid face reflected in the glass of the storm door. Her stupid, stupid face. The one he missed seeing. The one he ached to touch, to kiss… Yeah, pretty sure Chloe was a witch, because no other woman had ever had this effect on him. That’s when he threw the hammer.

  Not even the Heather thing had messed with him this much, and for a while, Greg thought Chloe was just Heather all over again. They were both pretty and feisty and talented. And they both came from families with important names. He had actually started to think in terms of permanency with Heather, but as it turned out, she’d just been seeing him as a punishment to her parents. They had leaned on her once too often about her wild lifestyle, and she did them one better—she included Greg in her wild lifestyle. Greg Andrews, manual laborer.

  Heather warmed to him immediately when he showed up at her family’s weekend lake house to add on an enormous sunroom/spa to their already enormous place. The job was the chance of a lifetime, he’d thought, a chance to impress the right people and let them tell all their rich friends so he’d get more great jobs. His career would take off, he could hire more people, live a little better himself.

  The Heather thing ruined all of that. The instant physical attraction between the two of them didn’t take long to consummate. They managed that a couple of days after they met, when Heather showed up unexpectedly at the weekend house while he was working. He was doing some measurements, and Heather basically volunteered to be measured. Smooth. They had a beautiful house to themselves, and nature definitely took its course. The next thing he knew, Heather was inviting him to join her and her rich important friends when they went club-hopping or made appearances at different cultural events. Art gallery opening hadn’t been among them, but it sure could have been. That was Heather’s crowd, but going to art galleries or operas and stuff wasn’t what they enjoyed most. They were just very seriously into whatever made them feel good, and for a time Greg was into it, too. He told himself he still was, but that was a lie.

  He had left that crap behind when he moved to Legend and changed the name of his business. Those people, those rich important “friends” he’d had, wouldn’t find him in Legend, which suited him fine because he didn’t want to be found. He liked being himself, living a simple life here among simple people. Greg still couldn’t believe how stupid he had been to think Heather really cared for him. He hadn’t realized what was going on until the day her parents confronted the two of them at the house. Thank God they weren’t doing anything at the time, just talking out by the pool while Greg and his two-man crew took a break. Heather was wearing a tiny bikini, serving sweet tea and flirting with all of them, and her parents stormed out onto the pool deck and basically called Greg every epithet they could get their mouths around. Made a big fuss about how he had “soiled” their daughter’s reputation, and that he wasn’t good enough for her. Greg was mortified to have this confrontation in front of his crew, but stood up to them, and expected Heather to do the same. She didn’t though. She just smiled a wry little smile and told them this is what they had driven her to by complaining about the way she lived her life. If they would just let her be herself, she wouldn’t have been so desperate when Greg had come on to her, she explained. Greg remembered their first encounter being completely mutual, but there wasn’t a time in the conversation to mention that. There wasn’t a time in the conversation for him to say anything at all, because it was all about Heather. She was all about herself, and her parents relented to say, yeah, that’s okay honey. We’re all about you, too. They gave Greg a check for the completed job and told him to get out, and he and the guys did just that. The job wasn’t done, but nearly so, and he sure didn’t feel bad about taking the money after taking the abuse.

  At the time he figured that not only was his self-esteem in the toilet, but his heart was broken, too. Now he realized it was just anger, embarrassment, and general hurt. He hadn’t loved Heather any more than she had loved him. She’d gotten what she wanted—control over her parents. He’d gotten just the opposite of what he’d started out wanting. This was definitely not the way to build a business. Heather and her parents trashed his name, and in a short time, the word had spread in all the right circles.

 
; Less than a year later, the only construction jobs he could land were the absolute dregs. His love life consisted of an occasional date set up by a buddy who felt sorry for him. Greg hadn’t given any of the girls a chance, he realized now. He expected every woman to treat him like dirt, so after a date or two, he treated them that way. Things always ended there, ugly and painful. It was surprisingly ineffective at making him feel better to be the dumper instead of the dumpee.

  Finally, he gave up on the whole mess. He did some internet research and headed to Legend, Tennessee, along with Dave, who had even less going for him. They were talented at their work, but had rotten breaks so far in life. Maybe, they’d thought, Legend would be different. Maybe the mountain burg that was trying to reinvent itself would give them the chance to do the same.

  It had turned out pretty well so far. Dave had a girlfriend and was living with her in a little place a few miles outside town. Greg… Well, Greg had almost had a girlfriend and had definitely suffered his first broken heart. He sighed. At least business was good.

  Jobs were plentiful for him, and he always had a waiting list. This is what he’d wanted. He was successful and the future looked bright. Plenty of business here if he didn’t mind doing mostly renovation jobs. And his reputation—his real reputation, that of being an excellent craftsman—was spreading to surrounding counties. He could afford a nicer place to live, a better office. He’d already bought a great truck. What more could a man want?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Chloe? It’s Betsy.”

  “Hey. What’s wrong?” Chloe stifled a yawn and pulled the cell phone away from her face so she could see the time.

  “Sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a mommy emergency here. I’m heading to Knoxville with Martin for a real estate seminar. We’re on our way now, and I’ve left LizBeth Ann with Mike for a few minutes. Marie was supposed to have her today, but she just called the house and she’s down in her back. I can’t ask her to go ahead and babysit with that going on.”

  Chloe knew that the relationship between Betsy and her mother-in-law Marie was still touchy at times. Betsy and LizBeth Ann’s two-year absence from Legend had left some wounds that hadn’t yet healed. And to be honest, Marie with a bad back wasn’t someone Chloe would inflict on her worst enemy, unless he happened to be a chiropractor.

  “Sure. Not like I’m swamped with people…”

  “I know it’s an imposition, but I’ve called around. Anna, Maureen, and Janelle went on a hiking trip.”

  “Right.” She’d been invited but had used the shop as an excuse. Truth was she was still in duck and cover mode. She did need to have the shop open, but LizBeth Ann was a well-behaved child.

  “I can’t ask Midnight, because she gets busy with the coffee bar in the mornings. Plus LizBeth Ann would drink her weight in foamy milk. Uh… She can bring dolls and whatever. Mike can help you pack things to keep her occupied. She’ll love seeing Little Legend again.”

  “It hasn’t changed since last time she saw it.”

  “Hey. It’s Legend. It isn’t supposed to change, is it?” Betsy giggled a little nervously.

  “Chill, Betsy. This is fine. I’ll get dressed and go pick her up. She’s home, right?”

  “Yes. Mike was supposed to be on this new job site, but he’s hanging at the house ‘til somebody comes to rescue him. You’re really helping us out, Chloe. We owe you.”

  “You know better than that. This is what family does.”

  “Maybe Marie will feel better by lunch time. Or maybe Dorothy…”

  “Betsy. I’ll check with Dorothy later if you want. It’s early yet for her to be up. If not, LizBeth Ann can stay here with me. Maybe we’ll take a long lunch and rent a paddle boat on the lake.”

  “She’d love that. Thank you so much, Chloe!”

  “Sure thing. Now I gotta get going. Learn lots at your seminar, and give Martin a punch in the arm for me.” She heard Martin groan in the background and knew Betsy had done just that. She was the perfect business associate for Martin, because she didn’t take any stuff off him.

  Chloe had a quick shower, dressed in jeans and an orange University of Tennessee t-shirt, and ran down the stairs and out the door to her Jeep. A few minutes later, she was knocking on the door of Mike and Betsy’s little stone house on Alexander Avenue. Mike opened the door when her fist was in the air for the next barrage.

  “Hey! Am I glad to see you!”

  Chloe strode into the room and came to a full stop when she saw what was going on at a small table on the other end of the room.

  “Um. Betsy called me.” The words were for Mike, but she wasn’t looking at him.

  “Great! I know she was almost out of cell range when I talked to her last about Mom being down in her back.”

  “Uh huh. So. What are you guys up to?”

  “We’re havin’ a tea party!” LizBeth Ann’s little face was pure bliss.

  “Ah. Looks like fun.”

  “Tea parties are the best!” She turned to her companion who was holding a rather sad looking brown teddy bear. “Aren’t they, Mr. Bear?”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m all about tea parties,” said Greg Andrews’ voice, soft and gruff all at once.

  LizBeth Ann frowned slightly and leaned toward him, speaking quietly. “Mr. Bear haves to say it, Grayg. ‘Kay?”

  “Uh. Okay.” Greg moved the bear’s head while he said, “I’m all about tea parties. Especially if there’s honey in the tea.” He smiled lopsidedly at LizBeth Ann, who laughed in delight.

  She turned toward Chloe. “Bears like honey, Chloe. Did you know it? Do you want to do the tea party? Cuz you can do Mrs. Rabbit. Daddy’s doing Mr. Fuzzy Dog. Aren’t you, Daddy?”

  “I was doing Mr. Fuzzy Dog, but now Mr. Bear and I need to go to work, Princess.” Mike leaned down and kissed his daughter’s cheek.

  Chloe stepped further into the room, stifling a laugh. “LizBeth Ann, you and I are going to have girls’ day at the art gallery today. Do you want to bring some toys along?”

  “Yay! Girls day at the artgalley!” She clapped her hands and jumped up from her chair at the little table.

  “Let’s get you some toys to take along, Princess,” said Mike. She dashed into her room, a blur of pink shorts set and blonde curls. Mike, shaking his head and smiling, followed to help her.

  Greg uncurled his long legs and stood up from the tiny tea party chair.

  “Whoa. Tea parties are hard work when you’re over three feet tall.” He reached both arms over his head and stretched. It was quite a sight.

  “And over thirty years old?”

  “Uh, yeah. I kinda forgot how to play somewhere in there. I kinda… Started to take myself too seriously. That sound about right?” He smiled at her, and the lock on that beautiful painted box that held her heart was in danger of falling open.

  Chloe glanced toward LizBeth Ann’s room, where she could hear father and daughter discussing the merits of taking the large versus the small backpack full of toys.

  Chloe took a couple of steps toward Greg. “It sounds right if you’re talking about me taking myself too seriously. I’ve been so consumed by everything that has to do with the gallery, that I forgot how important people are. Especially people who were helping me. I took you for granted, Greg, and I’m so sorry.”

  “Should be me apologizing. I kinda got you mixed up with somebody else. I know that doesn’t make sense to you, but it’s what happened. I expected you to treat me like garbage, the way somebody did a while ago, and instead of letting that happen, I treated you like garbage. Not sure you can forgive me for that, or if I can forgive myself.”

  “What made you decide I’m not like that other person?”

  “Driving past your gallery the other day and seeing the sign—my sign—posted in the front window. Doesn’t go with your classy décor, but it sure made me feel good. Then I saw the new flyer Daniel made and the gallery website with a big plug for my business right on the front page. Mike and Betsy pointed
those out to me. I never would’ve seen them. Made me think, look back, realize that what I’ve thought of you was messed up. Because of her—this other person—”

  “She hurt you a lot.”

  “Yeah. Taught me not to take people at face value, but in Legend people are mostly what they seem. I was real jaded when I first moved here.”

  “Maybe we can just forget about what we’ve done wrong, and remember instead how well things have gone for our project together. Thirty days to turn a derelict old building into a beautiful art gallery, and you did it. You are a wonder, Greg Andrews.”

  “Wow. Praise. Hey—my guys are pros.” He took her hands. “And your design was easy to follow. You are easy to follow. Easy to get addicted to,” he whispered. “I’ve been having some serious withdrawal symptoms.”

  “You too?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Big-time. I need a fix. The kind that includes giving you some serious bed-head, or if not, then the kind where I show up at your door at six a.m. with donuts, and pretend I gave you the bed-head.”

  Chloe laughed. “Maybe we could start with Option B and eventually work up to Option A?”

  “I’m up for that.”

  “I’m up for that!” said LizBeth Ann, bouncing into the room. Mike followed her, carrying a small but very rounded backpack.

  “Sorry, guys,” said Mike. “Back to the real world.”

  ****

  Chloe put the morning’s conversation out of her mind and kept busy with LizBeth Ann. She was a well-behaved child, but, still, an energetic two and a half year old made a huge difference in her day. No wonder Marie didn’t feel up to it with a bad back. The morning went relatively well, with a few tours around the perimeter of the gallery talking about each Little Legend building and the people the little girl knew. LizBeth Ann also made plenty of suggestions for buildings and people that needed to be added.

  After bologna and cheese sandwiches on a Lake Legend paddle boat, Dorothy McClain arrived to pick up her great-niece. Accustomed to doing so, the two women quickly moved the car seat from Chloe’s Jeep to Dorothy’s sedan, and LizBeth Ann cheerfully climbed in. “I read with Aunt Dorthy. Her liebarry.” She grinned and pulled a board book from the backpack beside her on the seat, clearly looking forward to an afternoon in Charles and Dorothy’s beautifully renovated library.