by Molly Cannon
He studied her with a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Be careful, Etta Green. If you weren’t going back to Chicago, I might consider that a challenge.”
She was almost tempted to smile back, but he was already so full of himself, she resisted. “Good night, Donny Joe. I’ll be in touch.”
“Goodnight, Etta, and thanks again for the dance.”
She walked to the front porch and then turned and waved. She wasn’t about to tell him, but if she was feeling a little riled up, his smooth dance moves had everything to do with it.
Donny Joe threw his keys on the kitchen counter, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and wandered out to sit on his back porch. He stretched out on his favorite lounge chair and tried to let the night sounds of barking dogs and far off traffic calm him, but the truth was, he felt as restless as the breeze that danced across his face. He sipped his beer, not remembering the last time he’d been home this early on a Friday night.
The old yellow cat that lived out in the barn behind his house wandered up and jumped into the chair next to him. He pinned Donny Joe with his yellow-green eyes and circled around the cushion before settling down.
“Evening, Gabe. How’s it going?”
The cat meowed several times to fill him in on the events of the day. Gabe was a talker, and Donny Joe reached over and scratched the old scruffy tomcat on the head. He had a purr louder than a lawn mower, and the sound soothed Donny Joe like a lullaby. He’d never realized he was a cat person until he bought this house and made the acquaintance of the yellow cat that came with it. The house had sat empty for several years, and no one knew exactly when Gabe adopted the barn out back. Miz Beulah and Miz Hazel fed the bad-tempered cat, but he had kept his distance from people in general. All that changed when Donny Joe bought the house. Gabe sensed a fellow rapscallion in Donny Joe, and they’d been fast friends ever since. He’d grumpily learned to tolerate visits to the vet, but to anyone but Donny Joe he remained standoffish. “I know I’m home early. It’s truly pathetic, but I’m afraid I’m not much fun tonight.”
Gabe blinked slowly, taking in his words before licking his front paw.
The reality was he’d been ready to leave Lu Lu’s long before Etta showed up and asked him for a dance. The Green sisters’ arrival back in town had stirred things up. No doubt about it. The beautiful Belle had every man in town in a tizzy, while he was left to deal with bad-tempered Etta. Not that she wasn’t pretty too when she bothered to smile. In fact she was downright radiant, and a foolish man could get caught up dreaming about ways to wipe that scowl off her face and make her smile at him instead.
He supposed he should be glad they’d come to a truce of sorts, her half-hearted apology notwithstanding. And he wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn’t happy to hear she planned to fly home soon. A long distance working relationship, the longer and the farther away the better, suited him just fine. But he didn’t altogether buy her announcement that she was ready to let him handle things his way either. She’d already shown that she was going to question every choice at every turn, as if it was the only way to honor her grandmother’s wishes. Looking out for Miz Hazel’s interest was one thing. Making his life miserable was another. No, things would be much better if she stayed out of his way.
But Etta had thrown him for a loop when she asked him to dance. Especially since it was as plain as the freckles on her face it was the last thing she wanted to do. Normally, if a woman didn’t want to dance with him he’d considered it a challenge. A pin prick to his ego. A test of his ability to woo a woman. But trying to figure Etta Green was like trying to read a foreign language. He prided himself on being fluent in all things female, yet he couldn’t translate her at all.
Not that he hadn’t become aware of her more womanly aspects while they’d been moving around the dance floor. For one thing, she smelled like heaven. Vanilla combined with some elegant fragrance that teased his senses. And she’d fit into his arms just right. Surprisingly, given she was hardly any taller than his nightstand. But her head had come to the middle of his chest, and when she tilted her head and nailed him with those piercing brown eyes, he’d missed a step. Then she’d nestled herself against his body as if she was taking up residence. Funny thing was he’d almost been sorry when the song ended. And sure he’d seen a softer side of Etta tonight. Seen her laugh and even let her guard down for a minute or two, but that bristly, tetchy temperament of hers was bound to reappear, and he’d prefer to be out of striking range when it did.
When it came time to leave, he’d tried to ignore her. Sitting over at that table all by herself. But damn if she didn’t keep catching his eye in that sparkly blue green get-up she was wearing. He tried not to notice as she scanned the room, unsuccessfully looking for Belle. It wasn’t his problem. No way, no how. But before he knew what he was doing he’d marched himself across the room and offered her a ride home. He just didn’t have it in him to leave her stranded. Call it his good deed for the day.
She’d climbed into his truck and her scent had filled the close quarters of his truck. With his luck it would linger for days on end. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or bad. The conversation they had about Daphne’s father lingered, too. How would he feel if he found out he had a child out there? One he’d never been given the chance to know? He knew there were plenty of men who shirked their responsibilities, and maybe that was the situation Belle had been in. But he would never be one of those guys. He knew how it felt to be raised by careless parents, and no child deserved that.
In the meantime, Miz Beulah would be moving into one of his guest rooms once they started on the kitchen remodel Monday morning. He had to admit he was looking forward to the company. It would be nice having a conversation with someone over dinner at night. Nice having someone fill up the empty space of his big old empty house. One of the most respected families in Everson had lived in this house while he was growing up, and it came to symbolize all the things he fiercely dreamed of having for himself someday.
The day he was able to buy it marked a victory over his past and served notice that a boy from the wrong side of Old Town Creek could make something of himself. At least that’s what he’d told himself. But lately all the empty rooms only served to remind him that despite his success, he was still all alone. He shook off that thought and pushed himself up from the deck chair. Talking to his cat he said, “We’re gonna have company, Gabe. We better go make sure we have clean sheets for the bed in the guest room.”
Gabe meowed, jumped off the cushion, and followed him into the house.
Etta buried her head under the down pillow and tried to ignore the knock on the bedroom door. She just wanted five more minutes of sleep and then she’d get up and face the day. She needed to check the schedule for flights to Chicago. If she waited until Monday she could make sure Beulah and Belle and Daphne were settled for the time being. And she needed to make some concrete plans for dealing with the B&B. Mr. Starling was going to have to draw up new partnership papers. Maybe Donny Joe could take care of that and fax them to her. She’d have to ask him. Their first official long distance communication. It wasn’t ideal, but for now it was the best she could do. There was another knock. Louder than the last.
“Etta? It’s Beulah.” Her voice came through the door. “Wake up, darlin’. You need to see this.”
She stuck her head out from the pillow and said, “Come on in, Beulah. I’m awake, sort of.” Etta sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
The door opened and Beulah stood there sporting an orange terry cloth robe over her blue plaid flannel pajamas, and the pink corkscrew curlers she favored still decorated her head. She looked flustered. “I hated to wake you up, but I found this envelope on the kitchen table when I got up this morning, and I thought you should see it right away.” She hurried into the room and held out the paper to Etta. “It’s a note from Belle.”
She reached for the note with that old familiar feeling of dread that
so often accompanied her dealings with her sister. “Good Gravy, what’s she done now?” Etta started reading the note aloud. “Dear wonderful, fabulous, family of mine,”
Etta shot Beulah a dangerous look. “Ooh, if she thinks she can butter us up….”
I’ve gone to Paris with Roger. What can I say? He swept me off my feet.
I’ll be in touch soon with more details.
Love and hugs,
Belle
P.S. Etta, be a doll and check on enrolling Daphne in school!
Etta jumped out of bed, stumbling on the quilt wrapped around her feet. “Do you believe this? I’m going to kill her the next time I see her. With my bare hands. Does Daphne know yet?”
Beulah shook her head. “I peeked in at her before I knocked on your door. She was still sound asleep.”
Etta balled the note in her fist and started pacing around the room. How were they supposed to tell Daphne that her mother had run off to Paris with some man and left her behind without a second thought? “Where’s my phone? I’m going to try to call Belle again. She wouldn’t answer last night, but she’s crazy if she thinks she can waltz out on all of her responsibilities.”
“That girl’s always been a mite impulsive,” Beulah offered.
“But she’s never been reckless when it comes to Daphne.” She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and hit Belle’s number. The phone went straight to voice mail. Etta tapped her foot as Belle told her to leave a message, and then she did just that. “Belle Starr Green, you’ve pulled some dumb stunts in your day, but this one takes the cake. What in the world would you like us to tell your daughter? How long are you going to be gone? And I was planning on going back to Chicago Monday. What am I supposed to do now? Call me, Belle. I mean it.” She snapped the phone closed and climbed back onto the bed.
Beulah sat down beside her and patted her on the arm. “You go on home to Chicago whenever you need to, dearie. Daphne can stay here with me. It will probably only be a couple of days, and Belle will be back. Like you said, she’s always been a good mother. A little flaky sometimes, but still, she loves that child.”
Etta grunted. She wasn’t in the mood to sit around extolling any of Belle’s better qualities.
Beulah continued, “We’ll be just fine, and Donny Joe is right next door if we need anything.”
“Donny Joe? I don’t want you to have to bother him.” Etta didn’t like that idea one little bit.
“I’m pretty sure it’s no bother. Besides I’ll be moving over there tomorrow anyway, and Daphne can go with me.”
“Moving? Why in the world would you move to Donny Joe’s?” Her head was spinning. Beulah seemed to be jumping from one subject to another.
“I’m sure I mentioned it.” Beulah flapped her hand. “It’s just this next week while the kitchen’s being remodeled. Monday morning they are going to tear out the old kitchen so they can install the new cabinets and counter tops. It’s going to be a mess and the power and water will be turned off half the time. Donny Joe thought it would be easier if we bunked with him until it’s finished.”
“How thoughtful of him,” Etta said grudgingly.
“I know you don’t want to believe it, but he’s been a good neighbor to me and your grandma.” Her eyes got watery and she sniffed. “And we were really looking forward to it. Instead of focusing on the inconvenience, Hazel just laughed and said we’d treat it like an old-fashioned slumber party.” She smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek. “She had a real knack for making everything so much fun.”
Etta felt her own tears building up again. She wrapped her arms around Beulah, giving her a big hug. “I can talk to Donny Joe about rescheduling the work on the kitchen. You deserve to have some peace and quiet now that the funeral is over.”
“Oh, don’t do that, darlin’. Peace and quiet is the last thing I need right now. It’s better for everyone if the work on the B&B stays on schedule. Have I told you I’m making quilts for each room that the guests can take with them when they leave? For a price, of course. I’d let my quilting fall by the wayside, but now I’ve got all sorts of ideas for new patterns and colors.”
Etta felt a jolt of guilt. Other than making sure Beulah didn’t end up on the street, she hadn’t really given her feelings about what happened to the place much thought. Cousin Beulah grew up in Everson and taught at the high school for thirty years. She never married or had a family of her own, though Grammy Hazel used to make vague references to some man who’d broken Cousin Beulah’s heart when he married another woman. But when Beulah retired, she moved in with Grammy Hazel and they’d lived together in the house ever since.
“So, Beulah, you’re excited about the plans for the Bed and Breakfast?”
“Oh, my, yes. It will put some real life back into this old house. And now that Hazel’s gone it’s important to carry on in her honor.”
“Aunt Etta?”
They both turned to see Daphne standing in the doorway. “Good morning, sweetie. Come on in.” Etta patted the bed beside her and Daphne came over and crawled up on the bed between Beulah and Etta.
“Where’s Mama? I can’t find her.”
Etta didn’t want to just blurt out the news of Belle’s treachery so she made an attempt to divert Daphne’s attention in another direction. She did what she always did. She turned to food for help. “Hey you, I was just thinking I might whip up some of my special French toast? What do you say? Think you could help by sprinkling the powdered sugar on top?”
Daphne’s face lit up. Bouncing in place, she declared, “Oh, goody. I love your French toast. I can help with the syrup, too. Should I go get dressed?”
“Nah, let’s be wild and crazy and cook in our pajamas. As a matter of fact, I may not get dressed ’til noon.”
“Me, either,” Beulah said.
“Me, either,” Daphne repeated with a giggle.
Etta thought Daphne needed to giggle more often. Etta took Daphne by one hand and Beulah took the other and they pulled her off the bed.
“What about Mama?” she asked again as they walked down the back hallway and into the kitchen.
Etta helped Daphne up onto one of the barstools that edged one side of the kitchen island before answering. “Well, your mama and I went out last night after you were asleep.”
Daphne’s feet swung back and forth as she scooted around getting comfortable on the tall stool. “I wasn’t really asleep. She came in and kissed me good night. I squeezed my eyes real tight so she’d think I was, though.”
Etta started pulling eggs and milk out of the refrigerator. “You little stinker. Well, anyway, we went dancing at Lu Lu’s and she got a surprise visit from Roger.”
“Roger came here?” Daphne’s feet grew still.
“She seemed really happy to see him.”
“He wants to take her to Paris,” Daphne said solemnly.
“And that’s what they decided to do.” For Daphne’s sake Etta tried to sound delighted by the turn of events. She found a loaf of sourdough bread in the bread box, set it on the cutting board, and started hacking it into thick slices.
Daphne’s eyes widened and her chin trembled. “She’s gone? She didn’t tell me good-bye?”
I’m going to kill her. “I’m sure she did, honey. I’m sure you were really asleep when she came in last night, and she didn’t want to wake you up.” A slow, painful death inflicted with this dull bread knife. Etta felt sure her thoughts were hanging like cartoon bubbles over her head, so she dropped the knife and grabbed the canister of cinnamon, dumping some in a bowl.
“Mama left me here? For how long?” Daphne’s thumb went in her mouth.
Etta cracked eggs into the bowl while she struggled for something comforting to say. She was no good at this. What if she screwed up and said the wrong thing? She could upset Daphne even more. “Well, she didn’t say exactly how long, but I think the three of us are going to have lots of fun together. Isn’t that right, Beulah?”
Beulah walked over and hug
ged Daphne. “I was thinking besides quilts, the bedrooms in this place need some kind of stuffed animal to make people feel homey. Would you like to help me with that?”
Daphne blinked her big eyes and asked hesitantly, “Can we make stuffed dinosaurs, maybe?”
Beulah’s wrinkled face broke into a grin wide enough to stretch across the back pasture as she declared, “That’s brilliant, Daphne. I think stuffed dinosaurs are exactly what this place needs.”
“I agree. Absolutely brilliant, Daphne.” Watching her niece cope so bravely with the situation made her want to cry. But she couldn’t let Daphne see how angry and disappointed she was with her mother. Slapping a serene smile on her face, Etta grabbed the cast iron skillet from the pan rack and pictured beaning Belle over the head with it.
Her fantasies of killing Belle were interrupted by a knock at the back door.
Chapter Six
Donny Joe knocked on the back door and pushed it open wide enough to stick his head inside. “Good morning, ladies. Beulah, I’ve come to remind you about moving over to my place tomorrow night. The cabinet guys will be here Monday morning to start pulling out the old ones, and you know this place is gonna be a big ole mess.”
Daphne jumped down from her stool and ran over to greet him. “Hey, Donny Joe. We’re making stuffed dinosaurs, and Etta’s making French toast. Do you want some?”
“Stuffed dinosaur? That’s a funny thing to eat for breakfast. Does it taste like turkey?”
Daphne laughed at him. “No, silly, the French toast is for breakfast. The dinosaurs are stuffed animals for the rooms.”
“Well, thank goodness. I thought you were serving brontosaurus for a minute there.” The smell of fresh brewed coffee and whatever magic Etta was whipping up in that bowl swamped his senses the minute he walked in the door. It smelled great. He rubbed his growling stomach, and grinned down at the little girl. “Thanks for inviting me, but I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
