Moselle's Insurance

by LoRee Peery

“You saw right. One thing about Eric hasn’t changed. When he’s ready to move, he’s all action.”

  “His actions better approve everything in Frivolities so we can open on time.”

  Moselle ran her fingers through the condensed moisture on her water glass. “He’ll take care of it. He also plans to take measurements and start pouring the footings right away.”

  Geneva signaled for the check.

  Moselle waited for the teenaged waitress to finish scribbling and leave the check before she spoke. “I don’t know if I can take seeing Eric around so much. He’s bound to be distracting.”

  “That’s not all bad, you know.” Her mother smoothed her hair with exaggerated strokes. “It wouldn’t hurt you to find your romantic side.”

  Her romantic side had been a big part of Moselle’s personality long ago. Dare she let it resurface?

  Geneva dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a paper napkin. “Eric’s free labor amounts to a labor of love, Moselle. Please don’t take either his work or his heart lightly.”

  Moselle’s Insurance

  9

  Moselle tried not to notice, but Today’s Café seemed to be a sea of eyes. A sea of eyes that went from her to Beth, back and forth, as soon as she and her mother stood up. They might just as well be the subjects of a tennis match.

  Lord, help me out of here. When I greet Beth, I don’t want it to be in front of the whole town, same as meeting Eric.

  Once through the back door, and more thankful than ever that she could take that route between the businesses, she said, “Thank God Beth didn’t see us in there.”

  Geneva raised a brow above the sunglasses she’d settled to protect her eyes. “I didn’t raise you to be a coward.”

  “I’m not a coward, Mom. I like to prepare, remember?” Moselle arched a brow, in parody of her mother. “I want to think about my first words to the woman.”

  Their feet crunched on the gravel covering the alley.

  Moselle couldn’t prevent the happy lilt to her heart at the sight of Eric’s labor behind Frivolities.

  “Labor of love,” her mom had said. They skirted around the pile of lumber, covered by a bright blue plastic tarp.

  Geneva hesitated at the door. A sudden warm wind swooped between the buildings and she grabbed her full skirt as she turned to face Moselle.

  “You have no idea where Beth is coming from in her life right now. As we discussed the other night, you are not the person you were at eighteen and I doubt that Beth is, either.”

  “You’re right,” Moselle conceded. “Maybe Beth is here for just a day or two and she’ll go back where she came from, the same way I will at the end of summer.”

  “Beth has family in town, same as you, Moselle. It’s possible that she’s come for a visit rather than looking for a new start.”

  That was fair, her mom using the same terminology.

  “I still hope the new start is only a rumor,” Moselle ground out.

  Whatever had brought Beth back to Platteville, Moselle hoped it had nothing to do with Eric.

  ****

  Eric mopped his dripping forehead with a swipe of his left arm and reached for the glistening glass Moselle held out to him. He raised it in the air, nodded his thanks, and guzzled until there was nothing left but ice.

  “Oh, that hit the spot. You must have read my mind.”

  His heart hitched when she smiled and looked up at him. “Not really, I broke for a glass of water and wondered if you had anything to drink. I know you’re working hard.”

  “My water doesn’t taste this good.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I was about as dry as those bags of cement mix.”

  “Wow, you need all that to support stairs and a deck?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “Mind if I chat for a bit? I was getting dry-eyed and ready for a break.”

  He’d much rather look at her than gray cement mix any day. “Glad for the company.”

  They sat on a rough-hewn cottonwood bench in the shade of a young ash tree. She smelled as fresh as could be, while he couldn’t stop dripping sweat.

  “How many of those holes do you have to dig for the footings?” She turned and met his gaze. “Change of subject. For a week now, I’ve meant to ask about your family. You haven’t mentioned your mother or Shannon once.”

  He figured he knew what subject she really wanted to bring up, and he was getting a kick out of her nervousness. “Six. And they’re done. My buddy, Rainn Harris, brought over his equipment. We made short work of digging those holes.”

  “Must have been noisy, but I didn’t hear a thing.” She shrugged. “I was caught up in designing shadow boxes.”

  Eric admired her dedication. “With country music blaring.”

  She grinned like an imp. “You know me too well.”

  “I know what you mean about getting caught up. I can lose track of time when I’m working with my hands.”

  He chewed an ice cube and enjoyed the way Moselle took in the progress he’d made.

  “You asked about my mother. She ended up in Maui in one of those time share condominium resorts. For her record keeping, the corporation lets Mom live rent-free.”

  Moselle clasped both hands around her glass. Then she stared at a pair of pliers in his tool belt as though she expected them to jump out and walk her way.

  “Do you see her often?”

  I can never see your flashing green eyes often enough. “Just a couple of times in the last five years.” He drew another ice cube into his mouth and rolled it around with his tongue.

  “What about your sister?”

  Amused by Moselle’s small talk, he answered, “Shannon dropped out of school in Ashville, Oregon. Married a logger.”

  “Does she have kids?”

  How long would she skirt around what she really wanted to know?

  “Two. One of each. Shannon is manager of a gift shop attached to a so-so motel in Bend.”

  Moselle now focused on her sandaled foot where she drew a circle in the gravel. The wolves in each earring swayed with the swoop of her foot.

  “Have you heard yet why Beth is here?”

  Finally.

  “Nope. I figure her reasons are hers. Sometimes the firefighters gossip like I imagine the women do at Karin’s beauty shop.” Eric held the empty glass in front of her eyes and waited for Moselle to look up at him. “I might find out more at the meeting tomorrow night.”

  Eric stood and gazed off in the distance. He set the glass down and plowed all ten fingers through his sweaty hair. He burned inside, at the way he and Beth had only thought of themselves.

  “Moselle, with Beth around again, I’m revisiting some old feelings I thought I had buried.”

  “What—”

  “I don’t mean any attraction for Beth on my part. Hand me that jug behind you, could you? I’m not used to this humidity that swept into town today.”

  Eric accepted the water from Moselle. After a long series of gulps, he rinsed out his mouth. He met her eyes, hoping to never fill them with disappointment and pain again.

  “I mean how she used me and tossed away your friendship. I’m prepared to give you all the time you need to believe that I mean it when I say how sorry I am for hurting you.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve been wondering if I caused most of my own suffering?” A whisper of a smile caught the corners of her mouth.

  He lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t believe you, Moze. You didn’t make up the taunts from the guys or the giggles from the girls in their little cliques.”

  “Can we finish with this subject now? I want to get access to the upstairs so I can get started working in my own space.”

  “At your service, ma’am. Rainn’s on his way back to help mix and fill the holes.”

  “Are you doing that by hand?”

  “Of course. It’s more fun than hauling fire gear for exercise.”

  Moselle shook her head and grinned. “Macho man.”

  She ste
pped away. “Mind if I turn on the radio since your CD clicked off?”

  Eric nodded, wondering why he kept allowing thoughts of Beth to enter his head. He’d closed that chapter of his life, hadn’t he?

  They listened to Randy Travis sing about three wooden crosses and a spared life. Moselle stood lost in thought, surveying the back of the building. He figured she pictured herself sitting on the deck, or working in the new space.

  Eric tuned once again into the life-changing lyrics of the song. He reflected on the legacy he would leave behind. Would there be any?

  “That’s a lovely song,” Moselle said with a hint of moisture in her eyes, “but sad. Have you ever wondered what you’ll leave behind, Eric?”

  There it was again, their thoughts on the same path.

  He wished for clean hands so he could wipe the tear from her eye. “It is kind of sad. But redeeming. And hopeful. Yes, I have thought about a legacy.”

  She looked so soft and vulnerable at the moment.

  “I hope to have children,” He finished. Lord willing, they’d be with Moselle.

  She searched his face. “No matter how we mess up our lives, Jesus always gives us hope, doesn’t He?”

  “Yep. So with a musical message like we just heard, Moze, why do you listen to country instead of Christian radio?”

  “That’s a good question. Mom sang hymns all the time when we were kids, remember?” At his nod, Moselle continued. “When I started growing as a believer I tried to listen to Christian radio, but the songs still sound too hip-hop to me.”

  “I’ll give you that one,” Eric conceded, “one of our differences is our choice in music.”

  “I know the message is still there, just presented a different way.” She tossed the ice cubes from both glasses. “And one way we’re alike is that we both finish what we start.”

  He slung her a salute and agreed they needed to get back to work. He watched her every move until she was out of sight.

  “Oh, Lord,” he whispered, “I need direction in regard to getting closer to that woman.”

  Beth wormed her way back into his head after the short prayer. He figured he’d need more prayer, lots of it, for the next time he’d have the misfortune of running into her. Could Beth have changed like the people in the song?

  Eric considered the biblical Job. Peace eventually washed over him. God would give Eric courage when he saw Beth again. Would God protect him, no matter what he faced? Be it a raging fire—or the uncertainty of a future with Moselle.

  Thank You, Father God, that You enable me to rest in safety. Please grant that same assurance to Moselle.

  ****

  “Eric is so sure of himself, Mom.” Moselle concentrated on creating an even flow of ranch dressing over her taco salad. “Where does a person get that self-confidence?”

  “For some men it just comes naturally.” Geneva flipped a lilac-patterned napkin over her lap. “But for those of us who believe and have faced trials too big to handle, there is only one source of security.”

  “The Lord.”

  “You got it, dear.”

  The women bowed their heads and Moselle gathered her thoughts. She listened with her heart while her mother prayed, especially feeling empathy at the request for Lanae’s renewed health. It was past lunch time, and her aunt was still in bed.

  Moselle looked up after she heard Amen. “When does the Interferon treatment begin?”

  “We’ll know this afternoon, once she’s seen the doctor in Lincoln.” Geneva reached for the dressing bottle.

  “Mmm.” Moselle crunched a crisp bite that woke up her tongue. “Did you list what needs to be done while you’re gone?”

  “You know me too well.” Geneva traced a heart-shaped button design near the left shoulder of her navy T-shirt. “It’s your turn to get to know our copper and chrome beauty.”

  Moselle mimed her mother’s gesture, fingers splayed over her chest, “Oh, latte my heart.”

  Lanae entered the kitchen while they were still enjoying a laugh. “We need to give that beauty a name, don’t you think?” Lanae asked, while crossing the kitchen with a wide yawn.

  “You always did have ears too big for your own good,” Geneva teased her sister. “Your salad is there on the bottom shelf.”

  Lanae opened the door, scanned the cold contents, then closed the refrigerator without reaching for a thing.

  Moselle and her mother exchanged glances. Lanae’s rose-colored silk robe drooped low off the shoulders. She had lost weight along with her appetite.

  “No wonder I slept in,” Lanae murmured while glancing at the sky through the window over the sink. “Those clouds look heavy with humidity and rain.”

  “Rain or no, the day’s a-wasting, sleepy head.” Geneva started to rise, but then sat again. “And if you don’t eat, you’ll have to answer to your big sister.”

  Lanae twirled and stuck out her tongue. “I’ll have instant oatmeal and a cup of tea, if you please.”

  Moselle slid back her chair.

  Lanae’s head whipped in Moselle’s direction. “Don’t you dare get up, niece. I’ll let you know when I can’t prepare my own silly oatmeal.”

  Moselle settled back on the chair. “Do you think that chrome furniture that seems to be all the rage would work in the loft?”

  Her answer came in twin groans.

  “You two can go crazy stocking Frivolities. Why can’t I furnish my own space the way I want?”

  “Honey, you go right on ahead and do what you want,” Geneva encouraged.

  “I just associate chrome with not having enough money for another choice,” Lanae added. “When we were girls, I wanted a round oak pedestal table like my best friend.”

  With the ding of the microwave, Moselle kept any comment to herself.

  Her own two best friends from high school had run off together, leaving her with a broken and bitter heart.

  Moselle’s Insurance

  10

  Moselle stood at the Main Street window of Frivolities, her gaze fixed on the front door to Eric’s insurance office down the street, willing him to present himself. She drew in a long sip of a foamy latte, rolling the taste of black cherry inside her mouth. She had determined to taste each syrup flavor so she could chat knowledgeably with future customers. She wondered if she should follow her mom’s example and serve fancy coffee at Use it Again, Sam’s antique store in Kansas City.

  That may be a selling point for her future at summer’s end, but what would she do about her future with Eric? Could it be as simple as taking one day at a time? Should she really let bygones be bygones as easily as reading words printed on a page from the Bible?

  And what about Beth?

  As that thought intruded, a face appeared on the other side of the glass.

  Beth.

  Moselle reared back, the sticky coffee contents of her mug close to splashing over the rim.

  With blonde eyebrows raised in question, Beth pointed to the door.

  Moselle’s mind and muscles proved sluggish. Then she moved in slow motion when Beth mimed knocking on the door. Moselle set the mug on the sill of the display window and reached for the dead bolt on the door. Instead of a pleasant tinkle, the ring of the bell grated with foreboding.

  She and Beth each had a hand on the doorknob so the door swung in too fast, scraping against Moselle’s bare little toe.

  “Ouch!”

  “Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Moze.”

  Moselle’s already clenched teeth ground tighter. “Don’t. Call me. That.”

  Beth hiked the shoulder strap of her ragged fabric purse higher on her shoulder and anchored it against her side, holding it with both hands.

  “I really am sorry.” Beth stepped in and pushed the door closed with a hip.

  Even though Beth used the very words Moselle longed to hear, she repeated, “Stop. Saying that.”

  “Well, it’s true. I…I was curious about the shop so I came for a peek. Sorry it’s so early.” Her pale eyes r
ounded and looked huge in her face, as she swept a glance over Moselle’s shoulder. “But I really didn’t expect to see you. I meant to look you up when I heard you were in town.”

  “Just for the summer.” Moselle wanted to be in the back storage room, where she felt confident and safe with her glue gun and thingamabobs. “Why did you want to look me up?”

  Beth took a deep breath but met Moselle’s eyes unwaveringly. “I need you to forgive me. In order to completely heal, I mean.”

  Moselle’s breath escaped in a rush of forced air. She studied the changes in her ex-friend’s face. Beth had a lot of miles on her. Heartache, skepticism, unimaginable hurt. But there was somehow peace there, as well.

  Geneva’s words from long ago flowed through her thoughts. “You can’t judge another person because you don’t know what it’s like to walk in someone else’s shoes.”

  But for the grace of God I could be looking at myself.

  “In all honesty, I think I’ve done that deep down somewhere. But I know that you hurt Eric, too, and he was my best friend long before you were.”

  Beth drew in an audible sharp breath. “I guess I deserved that one.” She fisted her hand on the shoulder strap. “Let’s not talk about Eric. I’ll settle things with him at another time.”

  She paused, rolled her gaze around the chaotic items.

  Moselle didn’t comment.

  When Beth returned her direct gaze to Moselle, she broke out in a smile. Her face looked like it belonged to some other woman. “My best friend is Jesus now, and I’m a new person you have yet to meet.”

  At the mention of her own Savior, Moselle’s animosity melted a notch. “I’m sorry that you lost your baby, Beth.”

  The air was thick with memories of impulsive teen actions that had involved three lives. Four, if you counted the lost baby.

  “Thanks I’ve worked through it.”

  Moselle waited again. For what, she had no idea.

  Beth’s voice held the slightest tremor when she finally spoke. “Losing the baby still hurts when I think about it. But I’m sure it worked out for the best because that little one is with Jesus. Eric and I were just kids, you know, when it happened. We didn’t have Jesus in our lives. But now I understand that he’s really living for the Lord.”