by LoRee Peery
“A little yellow, don’t you mean?” Lanae pretended to swat Moselle’s behind. “Go on, get out of here. Enjoy yourselves.”
Moselle blew her aunt a kiss and eased in front of Eric while he held the door open.
Three minutes later, his big silver pickup idled at the stop sign. “So, which way we going? Lincoln or Omaha?”
“Omaha, I guess. But do you mind if we stop at the courthouse first? That way I can find out about permits.”
“Good plan.”
Eric paid attention to his driving their first few miles to the county seat. Moselle commented on the rough road.
When they came to a long straight stretch he asked, “Does your aunt know how she contracted hepatitis?”
“She and Mom pretty much concluded that it happened during a hospital stay in Denver.”
“How serious is hepatitis C?” Eric answered his own question, “Guess it must be bad, for you to leave Kansas City.”
“Temporarily, during her treatment. Right now we only know that when she starts the Interferon, she might get pretty sick. We tease her that she’ll get more scatterbrained than she already is.”
“From what I’ve seen of her, she’s a pretty fun person to be around.” Eric reached over to cup Moselle’s shoulder. “I’m sure she realizes what you gave up to move back and help out.”
“It’s worth it if she doesn’t have permanent liver damage.” Moselle swallowed and became aware of many things. Eric’s hand felt heavy and warm on her shoulder. Her palms were suddenly clammy. Clouds scudded away from the sun and the glare hit her in the eyes. The smell from his cappuccino exuded the comfort of her mother’s kitchen during winter.
And her whole world was centered in the cab of this truck.
She opened her mouth to say it was time to talk, but Eric interrupted her.
“We can’t rewrite the past, Moselle. It’s as dead as the sin that God forgives when we believe and turn our lives over to Him.”
His words put the skids on any reaction from her. Nothing like a reality check.
He squeezed her shoulder and somehow the warmth of his hand warmed her insides, as well as calmed the jitters in her stomach.
“There is no excuse for the way I behaved. I didn’t realize until the Lord changed me that you were the best thing that had ever happened in my life. Besides God, of course.”
Eric returned his hand to guide the steering wheel. He pulled off onto the shoulder of the road.
The abruptness jolted Moselle as much as the rough ditch the truck bounced over. In seconds they were on the smooth surface of a blacktopped drive, where Eric stopped in front of a closed and padlocked gate.
The silence in the cab seemed alive with the tension that thrummed between them.
He turned to face her. “You may have expected an excuse. I have none. I was running on boy hormones. You didn’t want me—”
Moselle jumped on that one. “Now wait a minute here. I wanted you. But I also wanted to save myself for marriage.” She drew a trembling breath. “I still do.”
“Beth was right there.” Eric continued as though she hadn’t interrupted. “You turned me down. Even though Beth was willing and waiting, it took both of us to get into trouble.”
“Wait a minute—you felt like I rejected you?” she squeaked.
“Warped thinking, I know.”
“When I saw you in Today’s Café, you made me feel like a teenager again. And I wanted to scratch out your eyeballs and kick you in the shins.” She gazed through the windshield at the horizon. “Anything to keep from facing up to all I had run from twelve years ago.”
“So stop running.”
She spun to face him. She concentrated on keeping her voice level. “I’m trying to do just that, Eric. I like being back in Platteville. I look forward to having a place of my own. I want a home where I can be free to let the creative juices flow. A place where I can stroll down the street and look every person in the eye. A home where I can walk into any business and know they aren’t remembering how I supposedly slept with you the end of our senior year. I get that freedom in the city.”
“All right, then.” Eric smoothed a hand over his face and rubbed his jaw. “So, that’s what’s holding you back?”
“How the town sees me is a big thing. Their talk over coffee and the way they’ll respond to Frivolities is a reflection on Mom and Aunt Lanae. I can’t let gossip stand in the way of their success. I want to rise above all that.”
“If they talk, Moze, it’ll be short lived and soon forgotten. People can see that you’re not a tramp. They’ll think you’re a hero when they see how sick your aunt is.”
“Time will tell, I guess. But you know as well as I do that if you toss a ball at one end of Main Street, any tidbit of news reaches the other end before the ball bounces once. You told your buddies we had gone all the way.”
Eric’s voice rose. “Wait just a minute here. To keep the record straight, I never made that claim.”
“Then why—”
“Again, I have no excuse. I suppose I was mad.” He reached out and grabbed her hand.
She held her hand heavy in his, wondering if it felt as lifeless as it did to her.
“I knew what the guys thought,” he paused, but didn’t continue. Then he squeezed her fingers.
Moselle let him talk without interrupting, trying with all her might to understand his side of the story.
Eric blew out a deep gust of air and closed his eyes. “I guess I forgot about that part of the story once school was over. I let them believe what they were spreading around as truth. I was wrong. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
Moselle raised a hand to tuck her nonexistent hair, but played with her earring instead. She tried to keep her breathing steady.
Eric reached over and wiped a tear from each cheek with his thumb. Her flesh flinched at his touch. She felt as icy as a giant squid out of water.
“You kept in touch with your mom.” He gently continued. “You had to know that Beth and I weren’t together long.”
Moselle didn’t want to see so much in his golden brown eyes. She closed her own against the compassion and regret she read before she responded.
“Sure, I knew you broke up. And I’m sorry about the baby. You’d make a great dad, Eric.”
She felt the track of tears on each cheek, and hated the way her lower lip trembled. “When I knew you were free, did you really expect me to say, ‘Here I am. Want me now?’”
“Still a little bitter, are we?”
That popped her eyes open to connect with his gaze. She blinked at the traitorous moisture.
“You’ll never know how hurt and angry I’ve been, Eric. Coming back home just brought it all to the surface again.” She lifted a brow and attempted to slant him a smile. She felt her lips quiver.
“In Kansas City I found good counsel at church, where I realized that my inability to forgive you was only hurting me. So I put all my energy into working at Use it Again, Sam. I even kept busy at night designing cards for Hallmark. Sam Jeffrey has offered me part ownership starting when I return this fall, by the way.”
“Wow. I didn’t know your talents proved that successful. Hallmark.”
The pride in his voice surprised her. He ignored the reference to her fall return to Kansas City.
“I kind of burned out, so getting involved in Frivolities is good timing.” She settled more comfortably in the seat. “Back to the subject. Tell me about Beth, Eric.”
“I’ll just say that after she lost the baby, we had nothing in common.” He ran a hand over his bristly jaw. “What’s left out is for Beth to tell.”
Moselle inhaled, but Eric raised his other hand to stop her from speaking.
He drew a deep breath and blew it out. “Dad is on his fifth wife. I woke up one day and knew I didn’t want to be living the same way he does. So I started going to church again. God has enabled me to turn my life around.”
“I’m glad, Eric.” Moselle squeez
ed his fingers. “You’ve given me a lot to mull over. I promise to think and pray about putting the past where it belongs.”
She picked up his hand and put it on the steering wheel. “Let’s go get that permit, shall we?”
They reached the courthouse a short time later. Eric grabbed his empty cup and carried it up the massive limestone steps. In one coordinated move, he tossed the cup and held the door open for Moselle. “Let’s get this done so we can check out some lumber. That part should be fun.”
Outside the door marked Information, she paused and looked up at him. “I thought I smelled your cappuccino all the way here. Now I know you are the source of that delicious scent.” Spice, his unique hint of mint, the essence of Eric, all mixed together.
“What can I say? In the animal world, that’s a big part of the mating game.”
She punched him in the chest. “Eric!”
“Just kidding.” His wide smile belied his words.
Moselle’s Insurance
7
Eric was amazed at how simple and what little time it took to process the request for a building permit. It worked as an extension of the rewiring. Re-zoning was unnecessary. Originally there were living quarters on the second floor of the building that now housed Frivolities. Moselle only had to pay a small fee for the dwelling permit.
“We talked,” she said, “but can I take a raincheck on the improvement store?”
“Sure, I can handle it.”
The ride back to Platteville was rolling along in silence. He suspected that Moselle’s feet hurt from all the walking they had done in the giant home improvement store.
He was exhausted from mental turmoil. All that talking had caused him to think of Beth and how he bought into her deception. Now he was riled.
God buried sin when a repentant confessed and believed, but he couldn’t help the guilt that blasted him in the gut and soured his stomach. So far, he was the one who hadn’t been able to let the guilt go.
Forgive me, Lord, for what I did to Moselle. You handed me gold. I settled for bronze and even tarnished copper, looking for…
Angry with himself, he slammed his hand against the steering wheel. I’m making excuses.
He ground his teeth and felt his right eye twitch.
You know how it still irks me that Beth had the gall to let me believe her baby was mine. But it took both of us to make a mess of the situation.
Did anyone else know the baby hadn’t been his?
****
At the thud of Eric’s hand slamming against the steering wheel, Moselle awoke from her pleasant daydream about the refurbished loft apartment.
“Eric?” She asked with hesitancy, “what’s wrong?”
He visibly pulled away from where his mind had taken him; his brow cleared and his facial muscles relaxed. “Just exorcising an old memory.”
She considered her anger at the events that had closed out their senior year. “I’m realizing more and more that God’s the only way we can do that, Eric. Anger and guilt build up to a sure recipe for self-destruction, which don’t originate with our heavenly Father.”
“So, do you want to go to the store or home to your mom’s?”
“Oh, take me to Frivolities, please. I’ll need to burn some glue sticks to make up for lost time.”
When Eric pulled up in front of Platteville’s newest business, they burst out laughing. Huge bows of lime green tulle draped the windows on the outside. A foil rainbow curved above the door.
“I think—” Eric sputtered.
“I wonder—” Moselle groaned.
They laughed anew. Eric waved a hand for her to go first.
“I wonder if they want me to glue sequins on the windowsills.” She held her stomach to hold in her glee.
“I think it would be a good idea to only use the back door from here on out,” Eric finished. Then he pointed. “Hey, isn’t that one of your boxes right there in front?”
Moselle surveyed the window display and beamed her delight. The women had found a way to work around the mess. “Looks good.”
Her smile faded at the serious expression on Eric’s face. He paid no attention to the storefront. His eyes were on her.
“Let’s end this day on a good note, shall we?” He reached over and touched the wispy hair at her nape.
Eric’s concentration on her face revealed his wish to kiss her. On Main Street, no less. That would get the rumors flying.
At the light touch of his knuckles brushing her jaw, Moselle wondered if her hair had nerve endings.
“The bottom line is, way down deep, I actually realize how much I admired and respected you for saying no.”
“Thank you for admitting that, Eric.” Moselle drew her bottom lip in with her teeth and concentrated on the grating release before she continued, “I guess I need to know what you want from me now.”
“Shall we start by renewing our friendship?”
“Sounds good.” She straightened her shoulders before going on, “Then let’s get the air cleared over one other thing.”
Eric drew his brows together but didn’t say a word.
“Friends don’t stand their friends up.”
He reared back. “What?”
“We had a date the night after our last time together.”
“Aw, Moze. Are we back there, again?” He grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. “I don’t remember. I was mad. Plain and simple. I thought you were promising me something you didn’t plan to deliver.”
Was she able to let his forgetfulness disappear the way she hoped to see merchandise leave Frivolities? “If you say so, Eric.”
“Honest. I don’t remember.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I’ll have to dig deeper. With God’s help, I’ll try to forget my hurt as well.”
She jumped at the sudden knocking on the pickup window.
Her aunt stepped back when Moselle reached for the door handle.
“Come on in and get to work,” Lanae said. She addressed Eric. “And you too! We can always use some muscle.”
“Wish I could, but I need to get back to the office and hit some paperwork.”
Eric’s smoldering look seemed to promise Moselle they’d pick up where they left off. She was certain he referred to an imagined kiss, rather than a topic it was time to leave behind—but could she leave it behind?
Throughout the afternoon Moselle imagined working at Use it Again, Sam. Her mother and aunt had given her ways to utilize space and ideas for presenting merchandise that should tempt hesitant buyers.
Thoughts of Eric were left behind in the cab of his pickup, and she became so wrapped up in her work that she lost all track of time.
Deciding to take a break, she went for a drink and passed Lanae sacked out on the sage sofa, her skin tone sallow. The tired lines in her aunt’s face hadn’t relaxed while she slept.
Moselle went on through the connecting door and met her mother at the cappuccino machine. “Could you mix me up something icy?”
“Sure. How does a latte with ice cream and a shot of caramel sound?”
“Heavenly. Care to join me?”
“I could handle a break,” her mother agreed with a smile. She then waved a crooked index finger in front of syrup bottles before making her selection.
Moselle studied her mother’s hands and wondered if a few years down the road her own joints would be as swollen. She lifted her gaze above the nine-patch quilted apron and read “Frivolities” in black floss over her mother’s heart.
“That’s new.” She poked her finger in the air.
“Lanae embroidered these on our aprons this morning. Yours is folded on the workbench in the back,” her mother said above the swish of escaping steam.
Tongue in cheek, Moselle said, “I thought that pile of fabric was scraps for a shadow box background.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” A teasing glint brightened her mother’s eyes. Geneva set the two frothy, over-sized mugs on the counter. “So, how did i
t go with Eric this morning?”
“Mom, it was so easy getting a permit for renovating the upstairs. It was silly of me to be so anxious.” She took a deep breath against the ice cream headache that blasted her between the eyes.
“Sip, little girl, sip.”
Moselle groaned and pressed the space between her eyebrows. “You said the same exact thing about twenty years ago.”
“Sometimes you still act like a little girl.” Geneva slurped a chunk of ice from her coffee drink and dissolved it on her tongue before she went on. “I didn’t ask about Eric in reference to the loft. I want to know if you talked about personal things.”
“Some,” Moselle admitted. “He doesn’t even remember standing me up. Eric says he was so angry about me stopping things that he just plain forgot about our standing Saturday night date.”
“You know, honey, you’re only hurting yourself if you continue to let your animosity toward Eric hold you back from forgiving him.”
“I do know. But knowing and acting on that knowledge are two different things. There’s still something keeping me from welcoming him with open arms.”
They drank in silence. Moselle played with her straw, pushing liquid to the bottom of the mug. When she lifted her chin, the melancholy expression on her mother’s face concerned her. She reached over and touched her mother’s forearm. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
“I was just longing for a pair of welcoming arms held out to me.” She turned a wistful smile on her daughter. “I still miss your father. And once in a while I get lonely.”
She picked up Moselle’s hand and placed it between her two cool ones. “Don’t throw Eric’s offer of love away again, Moselle. I’m not at all saying that you should have given in years ago. But if renewing a relationship with Eric is God’s will for your life, go for it now.”
Before Moselle could respond, the office door opened.
“Look who woke me up from a nap,” Lanae said with forced brightness.
“Hey, ladies.”
Moselle’s heart took a sudden bounce at the sound of Eric’s deep voice. To compose herself, she tipped her head back and finished the last bit of ice cream in her mug.
