Love Finds You in Sunflower, Kansas

by Pamela Tracy

  Max and Mom busied themselves downstairs getting ready to head to Kansas City so Max could talk to the auto repair place himself. Since Max didn’t have a car, this meant borrowing his sister’s.

  “Can’t believe Joe sent it so far away. What was he thinking?” was Max’s only comment as Mom helped him out the door. He smiled the whole time, clearly glad to be getting out of the house, and not as perturbed as he pretended to be.

  Mom merely shook her head and said, “Annie, do you really need so much coffee this early?”

  “Yes, I really do,” Annie said without turning around. She might as well have not answered. Her mom had already helped Max down the stairs and onto the front walk. Annie was left in Max’s eerily quiet house.

  “I’ll probably need a fourth cup,” she told herself as she turned on the radio in Joe’s room and started stripping down the bed. She tossed the bedding in the hallway, propped the mattress up against a wall, and felt all along the seams. While the mattress was off, she ran her fingers over every nook and corner of the frame. Then she went through the jumble of items under his bed. She found his senior math book, some class notes—complete with messy handwriting—still inside, a pair of blue and white tennis shoes, curved with use, and a couple of magazines dealing with trucks. She sat on the floor and kneaded the homemade quilt, just in case the coins had gotten lost in an errant tear.

  Her cell phone warbled. She checked the text message and replied “yes” to Joe’s invitation to meet for lunch. Eleven was early, but she knew he needed to plan his day around appointments.

  She pulled the drawers out of his dresser and noted only two contained the remnants of his childhood clothing—namely, T-shirts. Every drawer was emptied and every piece of clothing gone through. It didn’t take long. Obviously, either Joe or his father had a hard time throwing away Kansas City Chiefs T-shirts. Although Annie hadn’t noticed Joe wearing the sports logo since she’d been there.

  No, right now he seemed to prefer dark blue T-shirts that stretched across his torso and showed the muscles that came with his trade.

  Her cell phone rang, snapping her out of her daydream before she could start thinking about any more parts of Joe worth contemplating.

  “I passed today’s quiz!” Cathy announced after Annie managed a brief hello. “If I can get at least a C on the final test, my daily average will be enough to pass the class.”

  “Muy bueno,” Annie said.

  “Words good, accent bad,” Cathy responded. They spent the next twenty minutes discussing Beth. Finally, Annie said, “I need to go pretty soon. I’m tearing apart Joe’s childhood bedroom. So far I know he has bigger feet than I thought, did poorly in math, and has kept every Kansas City Chiefs shirt he’s ever owned, starting from birth.”

  Cathy chuckled, then asked, “Why are you searching without Mom?”

  “She’s busy taking care of Max. I don’t leave until Sunday, and if I find the coins, Mom said I could have her share of the reward. It seems like OhSoClean is falling apart while I’m gone, so having earned something while I’m here is a good idea.”

  “What’s happening with OhSoClean? I thought you had more business than you could handle.”

  “We’re doing fine, sort of. But in the week I’ve been gone, girls are calling in sick and we’ve got some unhappy customers. I’ll be doing catch-up when I return and we’ll definitely lose some money.”

  “I don’t think I’d ever want to run my own business,” Cathy said. “I like it when someone else has to deal with all the headaches of customer service.”

  Annie bit her tongue and didn’t tell Cathy that being a teacher meant being on the front lines and dealing with parents and government both. Cathy would learn soon enough, and she’d do fine.

  At twenty-two, it was all right if your biggest concern in life was passing a Spanish class.

  At twenty-seven, the biggest concerns needed to be paying bills and keeping the peace. “These things happen,” Annie said. “If I find the coins, I can leave here knowing the job got done. There are no loose ends.”

  “You don’t consider Mom a loose end?” Cathy asked.

  “No, Mom’s fine. Chances are, next time I visit Bonner Springs, you’ll be with me, and we’ll be attending Mom’s wedding. Don’t tell Beth.”

  Cathy didn’t even gasp. Just said, “I’ll start shopping for a new dress.”

  After ending the call, Annie decided to check in with Rachel. She tried both the work number and Rachel’s cell but only got voice mail.

  Not good.

  Wishing she could be in two places at once, she finished going through the corners of the drawers and even turned them upside down to look at the bottoms. Nothing. She took everything off the shelves and ran a broom along the back edges. Dust trickled down.

  Sitting on his bed, she started going through the mementos from the shelves. Not that she thought she’d find the coins; maybe she thought she would find out more about the man. Joe had left trophies behind and lots of pictures, too. She’d noticed them the first time she’d passed by his room the day she arrived, her clothes covered in dog hair, irritated at him, and wanting to wash up.

  She had dog hair on her pants right now, and she’d not even seen Jacko this morning.

  It didn’t bother her at all.

  The photos that were framed were all professional. She saw Joe, maybe ten years old, in the bottom left-hand corner of one picture. He held a baseball bat and stared straight at the camera with a huge goofy smile on his face. At the top of the picture was the whole team. There were probably five pictures of the same ilk, only Joe and his team got older and sometimes the sport was football. His smile changed from goofy, to serious, to cocky.

  Annie liked them all.

  Joe also had lots of loose snapshots. There were pictures of two little boys making snowmen with a big brown dog in the background. The boys were so bundled up Annie had to really study the photos before figuring out Joe was the one rolling the snowman body. Then there were two boys, not so little, skateboarding and definitely not bundled up. Both teenagers wore low-slung jeans and black T-shirts. There were family photos, too. Joe’s mother was almost always in the center, a gentle hand on both her husband and Joe. In one of the last ones, Annie recognized Kyle Hicks. He was older now and leaner, but the shape of his face was the same, as were his eyes. She went back to the earlier photos and confirmed what she already knew. Kyle was the snowman builder and one of the skateboarders.

  “They were friends from the time they were born, just two months apart.” Margaret stood in the doorway.

  Annie almost dropped the pictures. She’d been so engrossed in studying Joe’s history, she’d not heard the front door open, footfalls on the stairs, or anything.

  “Joe’s the older, but Kyle had a brother and so figured things out first. He dragged Joe along. It was good for Joe. I don’t think he ever felt like an only child.”

  “Must have really hurt Joe when Kyle left.”

  “Yes,” Margaret acknowledged, coming into the room and sitting down next to Annie on the bed. She gave her the box with the kitten in it so Annie could take over the feeding. As they switched, Boots meowed as if afraid he’d never eat again. “I came to see what you had planned for lunch. I could make us some sandwiches.”

  “I’m meeting Joe. Want to come with me?”

  The invitation was automatic, but Annie almost immediately wanted the words back. She was leaving in two days. She wanted to be alone with Joe, with no one else vying for his attention.

  “No, you two go on. I don’t mind eating alone.” Margaret took one of the photos from the pile and studied it. “This was their senior trip. They went to Worlds of Fun in Kansas City. Both Max and Elizabeth went along as chaperones. I think this was one of the last times Joe and Kyle had a good time without accusations and suspicion interfering. It was just a few weeks later the coins went missing.”

  “I work with my best friend. We were afraid it might hurt our friendship, but i
t hasn’t. We have different strengths and weaknesses.”

  “I got the idea your partner wasn’t doing her share?” Margaret queried.

  “No, it’s that she’s not good at doing my share, too. Plus, Rachel’s not one who likes to tell people what to do, and when you’re in charge, you pretty much have to. Together, we’re a good team; apart, we somewhat flounder.”

  Margaret laughed. “I guess we all need someone like that in our lives.” She sobered. “If we’re lucky.”

  Annie thought about yesterday morning. She opened her mouth to ask if Margaret wanted to talk, but Margaret was looking at yet another picture: one of Joe and Kyle, wearing football jerseys, their arms around each other’s shoulders. “Luckily,” Margaret said, “Joe went off to college a few months later.”

  “You know everyone in town, everyone who was at the party that night. What do you think happened to the coins?”

  “I wish I knew what to think. I always sort of liked Max’s theory that someone off the street saw we were having a party. The door was wide open—not that Max ever turned anyone away—and they came in, saw an opportunity, and took it. Er, took the coins, that is.”

  “Why would they take only three when there were nine altogether?”

  “Three were out of the display mat. Maybe they didn’t see the others.”

  “Who first accused Kyle?”

  Margaret didn’t hesitate. “Me. It seemed so obvious, and the kid acted guilty. Of course, when Elizabeth got back, she thought the same thing.”

  “What did Kyle say?”

  “That he didn’t take them. That he felt bad he’d taken them out of the mat and that he felt he should pay for them. He offered to pay twenty-five dollars a month until he got a full-time job.”

  “Max didn’t take him up on his offer?”

  “Max said if Kyle didn’t take them then it wasn’t Kyle’s problem. Then, the kids graduated, and I left for Nebraska and my teaching job. When I came back a few years later, the whole thing had died down, except the friendship never recovered. For the most part, Kyle left Bonner Springs and never looked back.”

  Annie knew that wasn’t quite true. He’d looked back two months ago.

  Taking another photo from the pile, Annie showed it to Margaret. “So no one really considered Missy, Marlee, or Billy to be the thief? Or even Cliff?”

  “No. Anyone who’s met Billy and Cliff know they’d return a penny if they found it on the ground. Marlee was engaged, and her boyfriend’s family owns the restaurant in town. They’re not hurting for money. Missy, now, that girl couldn’t hold on to a dollar if it were glued to her hand.”

  “Why didn’t anyone suspect her?”

  “Her family gave her all the money she ever asked for. That was high school. She was a princess. It wasn’t until after high school that suddenly nothing went right in her life.”

  “Like?”

  “Never going to college, one job after another, things like that. She’s back now and seems to be trying to make good. For a while I hoped she’d get with Joe. But now I can see she wasn’t meant for him.”

  “Who is she meant for?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe if Kyle Hicks hadn’t left town… But Joe needs someone like you. Someone not afraid to put him in his place. Someone strong.”

  Strong? Annie had never thought of herself as strong. Beth was strong. Cathy, for all her quirks and struggles, always came out on top. That was strong.

  Annie just accepted things, moved forward, did the best she could.

  Margaret set down the picture of Joe and his high school friends and picked up one of the family shots. Joe must have been five or six. He was wearing a Spider-Man costume and showing his fake muscles. Her face softened.

  Annie finished feeding the kitten and put it on the bed. It curled up—more like collapsed—against her leg. Reaching over, she put her hand on Margaret’s. “Why were you so sad yesterday? Are you upset that my mom and your brother really like each other and might actually consider marriage? I realize it’s happening fast. Joe and I—”

  “I wasn’t upset.”

  “No, you were sad. I could see that.”

  “How old are you?” Margaret asked abruptly, suddenly withdrawing her hand.

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “You don’t have a boyfriend?”

  “No. I’ve dated a couple of guys, but no one I could imagine being with twenty-four/seven. I’m not in a hurry.”

  Margaret nodded. “That was my problem, too. I wasn’t in a hurry. I dated some young men, especially when I attended the Christian college over in York, Nebraska. One of them even let me know he wanted to propose.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “I didn’t give him the chance.” Margaret clasped her hands together in her lap, her expression woebegone. “The minute I realized how serious he was and how serious I wasn’t, I stopped hanging around with him. I would cross the street, hide in bathrooms, and even stay in my dorm room to avoid him.”

  “You shouldn’t marry if you’re not sure,” Annie said. Lord knows she’d said that often enough to Beth. Beth, however, was sure. At least she’d been sure until yesterday.

  “Yes, but I spent my youth—high school, college, and beyond—thinking that I would meet the perfect man for me. I didn’t want to be single. I wanted a husband, a family. But every guy I dated had some flaw I couldn’t seem to overlook.”

  Annie wasn’t sure what to say.

  Margaret shook her head. “Max met Elizabeth in elementary school. I think from that first meeting they knew, the whole town knew, they’d get married. Sometimes I think the whole town knew I wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “Elizabeth’s been gone four years now. The casserole brigade started just a few months after her passing, and Max, at first, didn’t seem to notice. Then, when he did, I think it scared him.”

  “Casserole brigade?”

  “Single women over sixty who see an unattached male and try to get to him through his stomach.”

  “Oh.”

  “Then your mom swoops in, and in a matter of days, he’s not only in love, but so is she.”

  Annie nodded.

  “Why couldn’t it happen to me?” Margaret said. “Why couldn’t the armchair detective have been a guy? A widower who took one look at me and said, ‘There she is, someone who likes watching the news and football. Someone who thinks staying home to eat soup and sandwiches, not casseroles, is greater fun than going out to eat. Someone to take long drives with.’

  “Oh, Margaret. I’m sorry. I had no idea that’s what was bothering you.”

  “No one does, and I shouldn’t have told you. I don’t mind eating alone, but I just didn’t realize that I’d be eating alone forever.”

  “Come to lunch with us.” This time Annie meant it.

  Margaret hesitated. “What time are you going?”

  “Eleven.”

  “That’s right when one of my shows is on. Plus, I have a few other things I need to do.”

  “Like?”

  “Like take care of your cat.”

  “Boots can come with us.”

  “No, really, you kids go on by yourselves. And please don’t share what I told you with anyone. I’m almost sixty, set in my ways. I don’t know why it hit me so hard yesterday. I guess it just reminded me of what I missed out on.” She pushed herself off the bed and seemed to try to shake the melancholy mood. “I shouldn’t have burdened you with this. You’re too young to understand.”

  “Not true. My oldest sister has been engaged to the same guy for years. She met him on her first day of law school, and they’ve been together since. Even when he goes out of town, he calls her on the phone.” Annie decided not to mention that when he called, he had a list of things for Beth to do. Nor did she mention that every day had ended yesterday. “Then, my little sister, Cathy, she’s a magnet. She walks into a room and the guys flock to her. She always knows what to say. Me? I’m quiet. Mo
st guys want a little more excitement.”

  Margaret shook her head. “That’s not it. You just demand a little more than the first guy you see or every guy you see. Maybe I was a little like that, but I thought there’d be some Harrison Ford–type guy just around the corner.”

  “I’m more a Matt Damon kind of girl,” said Annie.

  Margaret nodded. “I want to say that’s sensible, but I’m not sure. I do know if I’d have been sensible I’d have stayed with the guy from York College. By the time I figured out he was a catch, he’d gotten away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. He married one of my friends. They have three children, nine grandchildren, and are about to become great-grandparents.”

  “You keep in touch with them?”

  “Oh yes, somewhat. They send me a Christmas card every year. She used to thank me for breaking up with Robert.”

  “So, what was it you didn’t like about him?” Annie really wanted to know. Maybe he was short or had yellow teeth. Maybe he had dandruff or smelled funny.

  Margaret looked at one of the professional photos lying on the bed of Joe and his parents. “I can tell you what I thought it was. He wanted to be a preacher and I didn’t want to be a preacher’s wife.”

  Before Annie could comment, Margaret continued, “Now that I’m older and wiser, I can tell you how foolish I was.”

  “Okay, tell me.”

  “I didn’t realize I could plant a garden anywhere and it would grow.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Margaret decided to help. She picked up the bedding from the hallway and headed downstairs to the laundry room. “I’ll search around there a bit, even though I know you’ve already done it.”

  “Actually, we’ve not been down there yet.”

  After Margaret walked away, Annie got started putting things back where they belong, dusting and feeling along crevices the whole time. She’d just about finished when the doorbell rang.

  She listened for Margaret’s footfalls on the stairs but didn’t hear them, so she headed down to the front door.