by D. M. Webb
“He’s there now?”
“No. Think he said something about the fire station. Anyway, I wanted you to know.” Jeremy heard his dad call out to his mom. “Gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. Love you.”
The phone went dead. Jeremy sat there. David home? What happened to a week to prepare? His brother couldn’t even give him that. Talk about upping the ante.
He pulled off his gloves. The pink and puckered burn scars stared up at him. What a mockery that he carried scars from doing something David believed he hadn’t done. He had tried. Only he’d failed. Jeremy sighed and opened the door. He needed another cigarette, but Sarah would kill him if he lit up at home.
Sarah, her dark velvet hair pulled into a ponytail, met him at the door with a kiss. “I choose the mayor.”
Jeremy laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “Right choice. Tofu for brains slashed our budget. Now I’m back on nights.”
She sagged against him. “Oh, Jeremy. After all that time to get on days.”
He held her tall and slender frame to his. “It might be for the best. Who knows? Things happen for a reason.”
“Hmm. They do, but we don’t always have to like it.”
He let her go and followed her past the living room and into the brightly lit kitchen. “Where’s Dennis and Sophie?”
“Dennis is at Marty’s for the night. Sophie is at Amy’s house. I told her she had to be home by eight.” She opened the refrigerator and bent to seek out food.
“You mean we got the night alone?” He twirled her around and backed her up until she was pressed against the sink. “See, things happen for a reason.”
Sarah giggled and wrapped her arms behind his head. “Yeah, they do. Don’t you want to hear my news?”
“Later.”
“But your mom called and told me.”
He lifted his wife into his arms and whisked her out of the kitchen and down the hall. He buried his head against her neck. “I heard. Don’t repeat it.”
He pushed the bedroom door closed with his booted foot and lowered her onto the plush bed. “Tonight. Right now.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “No mayor.” Another kiss on her nose. “No chief.” He placed another kiss on her lips. “And definitely no brother.”
Sarah smiled up at him, and her brown eyes softened. “Things happen for a reason?”
“Yeah. Like finally having a night to ourselves. No children.” He lowered his head and kissed her deeply. Her arms latched around his back and pulled him closer. Nothing like the love of a wife to take away your worries.
The front door slammed. “Mom! Amy decided to come over here tonight! Mom?”
Jeremy rolled off of his wife. Sarah sat up and leaned over him, giggling. Oh, how cruel. She kissed his cheek and purred into his ear. “There’s always tonight when they go to bed. Go take a shower. You reek of cigarettes.”
With a smack to his chest, she hopped off the bed and disappeared out of the room. He pulled a frilly pillow over his face and groaned. Things happen for a reason. Like his craving for another cigarette.
Chapter 3
LINKIN PARK PLAYED IN the background. The music bounced off the walls and shelves in the garage, drowning all other sounds and thoughts. David pushed aside the toolbox and turned up the volume on the radio. He needed his thoughts buried this morning.
Early morning rays filtered in from the opened garage door. Fat Tom lazed on an old tire at the corner. David glanced at the cat and grunted. Fat Tom dogged, or more accurately catted, his every step. David either tripped over the danged feline or stepped on his tail.
The wrench slipped. His knuckle grazed the motor of the ‘85 Harley. He bit back a curse and sucked at his scraped knuckle. It was Sunday. The least he could do was curb his language. He picked up the wrench and tried again.
No matter how much force he applied, the nut refused to turn. David stood and clutched the wrench, ready to chuck it at the bike, but he didn’t want to nick the beautiful red paint. He dropped the wrench back into the toolbox. Somewhere on the shelf had to be some lubricant. He pushed containers aside, pulled boxes out, and cast them to the floor as they turned up no results. If they clattered, who knew? Linkin Park belted out In the End at high decibels.
There was no can anywhere. Dad’s supplies sure were lacking. David turned and scowled at the covered hulk sleeping on the other side of the garage. He had resisted touching that part of his history, but he remembered a can lying in the glove box.
He growled and stalked to the car. His hands shook as they grabbed the canvas. With a forceful yank, it soared into the air and floated down to the cement floor. His black beauty. The paint gleamed beneath a faint smattering of dust along the hood. He opened the door, and the smell of polished leather greeted him.
David swallowed. The last time he drove his Fastback was at the funeral. His fists clenched as the memory flooded his mind. Rebecca’s closed silver casket and those horrible carnations. Rain. Why did it always rain at a funeral? And thunder.
He cleared his throat and blew out a breath. That was the past. Get over it.
David ducked his head and slid into the seat. It cupped his long frame. He ran his hand along the steering wheel and dashboard. She was so pretty with her black interior, sculpted bucket seats, and gleaming panels. He shook his head. Enough of this.
He hit the button on the glove box and pulled out the small can of lubricant. Keys jingled as they hit the floorboard. He leaned over and picked them up. Without a pause, he inserted the key and turned the ignition. It whined and coughed, but wouldn’t catch. He tried again. The starter chattered but then fell silent. Absolutely great. It sat too long.
He unfolded his long frame out of the car, pocketed the keys, and went back to his Harley. First things first; he wanted to get the Harley going. He squatted back down and used the lubricant to loosen the nut.
The music plummeted to a soft level. David slipped the wrench, and his knuckle connected again. A curse slipped out.
He turned, knuckle at his lips, and found his father standing by the radio, eyes narrowed. Yeah. It wasn’t a very good curse. David picked the wrench back up. “Sorry, Dad.”
“You’re up early. Couldn’t sleep?” His father, cup in hand, perched on the edge of the metal tool cabinet. The smell of coffee wafted over to David.
“No. I slept fine. Just woke up early is all.” His dad watched him as he sipped his coffee. “Really, Dad. I slept just fine.”
“Well, I wondered. Knew you came in late.”
“Met Sam and Toby at the station is all. Stayed talking until late.” David finally loosened the nut and had it off. He was no child.
“Did you speak with Thomas?” Another sip of coffee.
“Yeah. I start tomorrow. C shift.”
His father raised an eyebrow. “C shift? I thought you were going to do A?”
David shrugged. “I prefer the C shift. And I asked the chief for it.”
“I see. Well,” his father slapped him on the shoulder, “breakfast is ready. Clean up and come eat.”
David laid the nut and wrench to the side. The Harley was almost ready. He could finish it after breakfast.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll skip out on early service and Sunday School. I’ll be there for the main worship service.” He rubbed at his hands with a grease rag.
His dad pursed his lips and turned to the door. “Come on. Your mom whipped up a big breakfast, so I hope you got an appetite this morning.”
David grimaced. “If she keeps on, I won’t be able to keep off the weight. I swear, why she got to cook so much?”
His father held the door open and waited for David. “Because she cooks when she is worried.”
David pushed past his father to the utility sink in the laundry room. He popped the lid off the Fast Orange and scooped out a glob of the gritty cleaner. “What’s she got to be worried about?”
“You.”
David paused, warm water pouring over his lathered hands. H
im? Surely no one knew. He swallowed the lump in his throat and dried his hands. His dad still stared at him. He stared back. He’d perfected the act of nonchalance long ago. “Why worry about me? I’m fine.”
“Hmm. So you say.” His dad turned away. David followed him into the kitchen and opened the cabinet door to retrieve a coffee cup as his dad spoke again. “Jeremy will be here tonight for dinner.”
David banged his head with the door. Ow. “And?” His hands didn’t shake as he poured the coffee. That was a plus.
“Your mother is just worried how you two will behave toward each other. That’s all.”
David smiled. He reached out and ruffled his dad’s hair as he walked past him. “Nothing to worry about, Dad. Nothing to worry about.”
A lot to worry about. Like he told his dad yesterday, sometimes three years just wasn’t long enough.
: : : : :
Margaret Allison Goddard waited for the children to seat themselves along the Zion Baptist Church’s pew. Two of the three-year-olds bounced around on the red cushion, anxious for their mamma and daddy to arrive, while the other children from class wiggled and squirmed. She placed her hands on their heads and leaned down.
“Max, Lilly, be still for just a little while longer. Your mamma will be out in a moment.”
Max’s little cherub face smiled. “But I gotta go.”
“To the bathroom?”
“No. Outside.”
She laughed and knelt down in front of him. “We don’t go outside yet.”
He squirmed and tugged at his overalls. “But I gotta wewease him.”
“Release who?”
His smile brightened. Max’s chubby little hands reached down the bib of his overalls and pulled out a brown, warty toad. A ripple effect coursed down the pew. Lilly, his twin sister, stood up on the pew, her high-pitched squeal filling the sanctuary. One by one, the other girls caught a glimpse of Max’s prize and started shrieking. The boys had to see, and they crowded around Miss Maggie and Max. Oh my.
“How long have you had him?”
“Since breakfast. Mamma dinna know, Miss Maggie.”
“Well,” she held out her hand, “let me have him now. I’ll put him outside.”
She grimaced as tiny amphibian feet touched her palm. Quickly, she cupped the toad in her hand to prevent it from hopping away. Last thing she needed was Jasper City’s own version of the Pascagoula squirrel.
“Sit down, guys. Girls, hush. I got the toad now, so sit and be quiet. How are we supposed to behave in the Lord’s house?”
Amber, a pixie faced five-year-old, raised her hand. “Quiet and with good behaveness.”
Maggie’s mouth twitched. Behaveness? That was a new one. The door opened behind her. The youth filed into the sanctuary. Relief at last; her cousin had arrived. The toad hopped around in her hand and felt really quite disgusting.
Sarah followed behind the teenagers and came to stand beside Maggie. “What you got there?”
Max jumped up. “She got a horny toad.”
The youth snickered. Maggie turned to Max. “This isn’t a horny toad. I think you caught a regular toad.”
“But I wanna horny toad, like Papa said he caught.” Max’s lip pushed out, and he plopped back against the pew, arms crossed.
“Well, horny toads don’t hop near churches, Max. Got to find them in the desert.”
“Or the zoo, Miss Maggie.” A redheaded, ten-year-old girl chimed in. She smacked her gum and propped her elbows on the back of the front pew. Her skinny body half plopped over the top as she teetered along its edge.
“Yes. And the zoo. Which, Max, we will get to see next weekend, right?” At his nod of assent, she turned to the red head. “And Poppy, go spit out the gum.”
Poppy screwed her face up in a puckered snarl and left the pew. She clomped her way out of the sanctuary. Maggie turned to Sarah. “Mind watching my group while I go release the hopping prisoner?”
“You really got a toad in there?”
Maggie picked it up between her forefinger and thumb and held it out. Little girls squealed again, and the little boys jumped up shouting “cool.” She held the droopy-legged toad out to Sarah. “Pretty big, isn’t he? And to think Max had him in his pants during the entire Sunday School.”
Sarah shook her head and waved Maggie away. “Go on. I got them.”
Maggie pushed past the double swinging doors and met Poppy in the large, cream carpeted, split level foyer. “Stop. Open.”
Poppy rolled her eyes but complied and showed a mouth full of teeth and no chewing gum.
“Okay.” Maggie leaned down and dropped a peck on top of her head. “Don’t bring gum to church again.”
“But I forgot to brush my teeth this morning. I didn’t want someone to call me garbage breath again.”
Maggie stopped short. She cupped her captive in her hands a littler tighter and knelt down in front of Poppy. “Who called you that?”
“Just some of the boys.” Poppy looked down at her black, shiny Mary Janes and scuffed at the carpet. “But it was only once.”
Maggie sighed. This little girl had no one. Her grandmamma was her only relative, and she was lucky if the woman brought Poppy to church on an irregular basis. She started to reach out and hug the girl but stopped. She almost forgot about the toad. “How about if I keep a toothbrush here for you? In the office? That way, if you forget again, it will be there for you. Okay?”
Poppy’s smile lit her face. “Really? Oh, thank you, Miss Maggie.”
She threw her arms around Maggie’s neck. A small oomph escaped her. She teetered. Heels didn’t help. With Poppy around her neck and the toad cupped in her hands, she couldn’t catch herself as she toppled. Poppy landed on top of her, and the toad escaped.
“Quick, Poppy! Catch him!” On hands and knees, Maggie and Poppy tried to catch the elusive toad. “There!”
She and Poppy dove under the water fountain, but the toad hopped away. Across the hallway and down the steps they scuttled. Maggie lost a high heel somewhere on the steps. Poppy missed the dratted creature and slid the rest of the way down. Five steps at most, but it seemed like Mt. Everest as Maggie chased after the creature.
The toad made it close to the welcome table, and Maggie stood and hobbled after it. She fell to her knees. Her hand slapped down. And missed. Good gracious, that thing was hard to catch.
“Where did it go, Poppy?”
“Um. He’s got it.”
He? Maggie pushed away from under the table and looked up. A very handsome, very tall man in a white shirt and dark denim stood in front of the full-length stained glass that bordered the front door. Light from the windows lit his body in an aura of red and white. His hair, long enough to brush against his ears, glowed like a halo about his head. He stepped away from the door. Green eyes met her gaze head-on. A wide, beautiful smile spread across his sad face.
“Is this yours?” The velvet timbre of his voice caressed her ears.
Wow. Nothing but wow. Even Poppy was speechless.
Maggie rose to her feet, feeling off balance with one shoe missing. What she must’ve looked like. A grown woman in a pink sundress on hands and knees chasing a toad in church.
“Thanks.” Maggie started to reach for the toad, but he pulled it away and held it up in front of his face.
“Doesn’t seem like your kind of pet.”
Maggie laughed. “He isn’t. One of the kids had him during Sunday School. He escaped from me before I could throw him out.”
He laughed, turned to the door, and opened it. With a gentleness she didn’t expect, he placed the toad on the doorstep and pushed it with his finger. The smell of freedom sent the toad into a frenzy, and he hopped off lickety-split.
“Thank you.” She started to hold out her hand but then thought better of it. “I don’t know if the old saying is true about toads and warts, but to be safe I better not shake your hand.”
He laughed as he closed the door. “Well, I held the toad too. So I s
ee no problem.” He held out his hand.
Maggie hesitated a second and then slid hers into his. A working man’s hand, callused and hard. “Maggie Goddard.”
His eyebrow quirked up. “Ah, related to Bro. Johnny?”
“Yeah. He’s my father. This is Poppy Littleton.”
He gave the little girl a smile. “Poppy, that’s a very beautiful dress.”
The girl blushed and twirled around in the black and white checkered dress. “Thanks,” she mumbled and dashed back into the sanctuary.
“She’s shy around strangers.” Maggie limped to the steps to retrieve her shoe. Two big steps had him there before her.
He scooped up her pink high heel and held it out to her. “Cinderella, your shoe.”
He was a charmer, indeed. “Thank you. New in town?” She propped against the wall with one hand and replaced her shoe.
“No. Used to live here. Name’s David Boyette.”
So this was the elusive brother. “Jeremy’s brother. Sarah’s my cousin.”
“Figured that out. Sarah told me her uncle took over the church a couple of years ago. You like it here?”
“I do.” She held her hands out. “If you don’t mind, I need to wash my hands just in case there is toad pee on them.”
A chuckle shook his chest. “Sure. See you around, Maggie Goddard.”
She watched him push through the double doors. He threw a smile over his shoulder at her, and then the doors swung closed. Charmer, indeed. Well, with Jeremy’s bad boy brother back in town, life just got spicier.
Maggie ducked into the restroom and turned on the water to wash her hands. She glanced in the mirror. A small smudge of dirt ran across her forehead. Great. Guess he was smiling at that and not at her.
Oh, well. Who could say her life was boring and needed more spice? Garden snake last week. Toad and a sad Prince Charming today. What would happen next week? A squirrel or a lizard, maybe? Who knew? She smoothed her dark blonde locks back into place and checked to make sure no other smudges existed before she returned to the sanctuary and the Disney kids.
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