A Woman Like Annie

by Inglath Cooper

  THAT AFTERNOON, Jack held a meeting in his father’s old office with the two executives who had engineered the setup of the stolen goods. He showed them photos and a written statement from Early Gunter implicating them. He told them with steel in his voice that they were never to set foot on this property again, and if they did, he would take all the evidence he had to the county sheriff.

  They left his office with their tails tucked between their legs, looking shell-shocked. Jack almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

  He spent the rest of the afternoon holding meetings with key management, giving them an edited version of the cause of C.M.’s downward spiral, then laying out his strategy for turning the company around. Long term, he wasn’t sure what he would do with the business, but for now, he only knew he wanted to give it back to the people who worked here.

  As soon as the last of the stunned C.M. employees left the office, Jack picked up the phone and dialed Pete’s cell phone.

  “H’lo.”

  “You must be finished for the day. You sound entirely too cheerful.”

  “Matter of fact, I am. Big date tonight. When’re you heading back to civilization?”

  “Kind of wanted to talk to you about that. Think your car could make it this far past the city limits if you asked it nicely?”

  Silence and then, “Play that again.”

  “We need to talk, Pete. Can you drive out here in the morning?”

  “Sure, but why do I have a feeling I’m going to wish I hadn’t?”

  J.D. SLEPT IN the guest room.

  The decision was not arrived at automatically.

  He’d pulled out his bag of J.D. charm and tried several of his old tricks on her. “You look worn out, babe. How about a back rub?”

  A long soak in her bathtub with the door locked worked just fine for Annie. Up to her neck in bubbles, she stared at the cordless phone at the corner of the tub.

  Call him, Annie. Tell him you wouldn’t take J.D. back if the offer came with a small private island.

  But then how did she explain that she was trying to make J.D. come to his senses? Give him a visible reminder of the domesticity to which he was all but allergic.

  It sounded ridiculous.

  It was ridiculous.

  But if it worked, it could prevent a legal battle involving Tommy. And if it didn’t work, she would take J.D. to the mat in any courtroom he chose.

  If she had any hope of being convincing, she needed to stay away from Jack.

  And then there were the other roadblocks she’d been putting under her microscope for consideration. Jack wasn’t going to be here forever. He had a life in another place. How could what happened between them be anything more than temporary?

  You don’t think he took any of that seriously, do you, Annie? To a man like him, that was little more than entertainment for the boondocks.

  He could never be happy here, a man who’s used to traveling all over the world.

  Maybe he could.

  Stop! For now, she couldn’t think about any of this. For now, she had to focus on wrestling her future with J.D. into a straitjacket.

  The next morning, she got up with the sun. She left J.D. a note on the kitchen table, put Cyrus out in the backyard with an extra chew toy, then tugged a sleepy-eyed Tommy out the front door.

  “Why do we have to leave so early, Mama?” he asked, rubbing one eye with the back of his fist.

  “I have to help with the church bake sale, and we don’t want to be late.”

  “Won’t we be the first ones there?”

  “Maybe, but it’s good to be early.”

  Tommy looked skeptical but didn’t argue. Annie made a detour through the Krispy Kreme drive-through and ordered a caffeine-laced bribe for Clarice. They weren’t supposed to pick her up until eight, but Annie did not trust herself with a J.D. face-to-face this morning.

  Tommy was quiet on the drive to Clarice’s. “Everything all right?” Annie asked him.

  Tommy shrugged. And then, a few seconds later, “Daddy says if you two can’t work things out, he wants me to come live with him.”

  Annie’s heart dropped. “And what do you think about that?” she asked, struggling to keep the panic from her voice.

  Tommy looked down at his lap, silent for so long that Annie’s chest felt as though it would explode. “I wish he would visit more often, but I wanna live with you, Mama.”

  Relief catapulted through her, leaving in its wake sorrow that her son should be put in this position. “Oh, baby, that’s what I want, too,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Can you just trust me that I’m going to make sure of that?”

  He looked up at her and nodded. And Annie was grateful and relieved for the love in her son’s eyes.

  Krispy Kreme offerings in arm, she and Tommy landed on Clarice’s front porch an hour ahead of schedule.

  Clarice answered the door with hot curlers in her hair. “You’re early?”

  “Ah, you know how important it is to be early for the bake sale setup.”

  “It is?”

  “It is.”

  Tommy shook his Krispy Kreme bag. “Mama, can I eat my doughnut now?”

  “Sure can.”

  “Kitchen’s all yours, Tommy,” Clarice said.

  Tommy bounded down the front hall. “We got you whole wheat, Aunt Clarice,” he threw over his shoulder. “You know better than to use my jokes!” she called after him.

  Tommy giggled.

  Clarice turned to Annie and whispered, “Couldn’t stand another minute with J.D.?”

  “He’d better break fast.”

  Clarice smiled and headed upstairs, tugging curlers from her hair as she went. “I guess we’ll be early for the bake sale.”

  THEY COULD NOT have ordered a more perfect day.

  The sky was a beautiful blue, not a single cloud marring its surface. The air held just enough of a nip to make a sweater comfortable.

  The Lord’s Acre Sale was one of the most anticipated events in Langor County. All the churches participated, regardless of denomination. Standing under the tent set up by Macon Point’s First Baptist, Annie felt newly grateful to be a part of a community like this one. All around her, women from the congregation were busy pulling cakes and pies from Tupperware containers, setting them up on the tables at the edges of the tent.

  Clarice had offered to operate the cash register since baking was not in her reportoire. Pitching was, though. She’d already sold more than a dozen cakes in add-on sales. And she was at it again. “Mrs. Teal, these cookies look wonderful, but did you see that apple walnut over at the corner of table one? Honest to goodness, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cake that moist. And it’s so nice to stick in the freezer for unexpected company.”

  “What a good idea, dear. Well, maybe I’ll just take a quick look.”

  “You go right ahead. I’ll hold on to these cookies for you.”

  Watching, Annie smiled, grateful that she and Clarice had cleared the air between them.

  Annie scanned the crowd as far out as she could see. Tommy to her right with a group of boys and girls playing Red Rover. J.D. coming through the front entrance.

  No sign of Jack. He wasn’t here. To her discredit, she’d been watching from the corner of her eye all morning. Disappointment hung inside her like a water-filled balloon.

  She glanced at her watch and made her way over to the register where Clarice had just rung up another cake sale. “Dunking booth time.”

  Clarice shook her head, taking Mrs. Teal’s money. “You’re really going through with that?”

  “Part of the mayor’s job.”

  “I’d resign. Effective immediately.”

  Annie smiled. “It won’t be that bad. I get to wear a wet suit.”

  “How about a shower cap?”

  “And send all the men running? I don’t think so.”

  Clarice laughed. “May your customers all have bad aim.”

  PETE ARRIVED IN Macon’s Point just after eleven.
He’d called Jack on the way, and they’d agreed to meet in the high school parking lot.

  He pulled up in the old white Suburban he used for hunting trips, window rolled down. He was wearing a Redskins baseball cap and small-lens sunglasses. He’d given up smoking six months ago and taken up bubble gum, his jaw working it like a weightlifter building a bicep.

  Leaning against the door of his car, Jack folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Afraid you were going to get ambushed on the way?”

  Pete got out, chuckling. “West of D.C., it’s travel at your own risk, isn’t it?”

  Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll buy you lunch for the added risk factor.”

  “So what is this, anyway?”

  “Lord’s Acre Sale. County’s been having them every fall as far back as I can remember. Come on, you’re in for a treat.”

  They walked the perimeter of the parking lot, ending up outside the Second Presbyterian tent where they were selling chili faster than they could put it in bowls.

  “Man, that’s good,” Pete said after they’d gotten theirs and headed back through the crowd.

  “Let’s see if we can find a spot on the sidelines,” Jack said. They parked and ate.

  “That hit the spot,” Pete said when he’d emptied his bowl. “So what’s on your mind? The suspense is killing me.”

  “Things have worked out a little differently with the factory than I anticipated. I’m thinking I’ll stay on and run it a while.”

  Pete’s eyebrows shot toward the bill of his cap. “Wow.”

  “Any interest in buying me out of the consulting business?”

  “Any interest in selling cheap?”

  Jack laughed. “No, but I’ll entertain offers.”

  “You’re serious.”

  Jack kicked a toe against the pavement and folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t do both, Pete. This feels like something I need to do. Like the outcome will matter to a lot of people.”

  “Well, from a selfish standpoint, I wish like hell you didn’t feel that way. But I understand why you would. I assume you think you can turn the business around, or you wouldn’t be considering taking it on.”

  “With a lot of hard work. I’m not kidding myself. It won’t be easy. But I have to try.” That was the feeling he couldn’t shake. He had to try. This town had worked its way back into his heart, and he wanted to do what he could to make sure it didn’t have to change. Staying here under the knowledge that he would likely run into Annie with J.D. felt like a club to the chest, but he was in too deep now to walk away.

  To their right, a crowd began to gather around the dunking booth set up at the edge of the asphalt parking lot. Reverend Landers stepped forward and hung a sign on the front: DUNK THE MAYOR: $1

  Annie appeared from the front, climbed the short ladder on the side, wearing a wet suit that defined her shape curve by curve. Jack’s mouth went suddenly dry.

  Pete pursed his lips in a silent whistle. “Whoo. Is she available?”

  “Get in line,” Jack said.

  Pete stuck his finger in his ear and waggled it around. “Just when you think there aren’t any surprises left. She wouldn’t have anything to do with your sudden decision to turn country on me, would she?”

  “You mean aside from the fact that she just got back with her ex-husband?”

  Pete’s face scrunched in disappointment. “Man. That sucks.”

  “Tell me.”

  They watched while a line formed straight out from the booth. Two boys took a shot with wind-up throws and missed. Three teenage girls, all giggling, followed without success. An older man took the next, and he missed. Another dozen takers lined up, all of whom missed. Good-natured laughter rumbled through the crowd.

  Annie wiped her brow in comic relief.

  Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was adorable. And he wanted her like he’d never wanted anything in his life.

  “Honey, you can’t sit in there and not get dunked even one time.” This from J.D. who stepped out of the crowd up front near the booth.

  “Hey, isn’t that J.D.—”

  “Yeah,” Jack said before he could finish.

  “That does suck.”

  “How about letting me take a shot?” J.D. pulled some money from his wallet and handed it to a surprised Reverend Landers.

  The crowd went instantly silent.

  Annie’s face drained of color.

  “Five shots,” J.D. said. “All or nothing. If I miss, I’ll pay double.”

  “Big of him, huh?” Pete said.

  “Seems to be the kind of guy he is. All heart.”

  “You think he’ll really dunk her?”

  At that moment, J.D. took aim and threw.

  Splash! Annie hit the water.

  She stood up, smiling, looking, to her credit, as if J.D. were just any other citizen playing the game. She climbed back on the board, water streaming from her hair.

  Not a man or woman in the crowd laughed. Or for that matter said a word.

  The only person enjoying this seemed to be J.D. It was a little like watching someone spear fish in a bucket.

  Pete leaned close to Jack. “Doesn’t it say some where in the marriage manual that husbands aren’t allowed to do that to wives?”

  “They’re not married anymore, but if it doesn’t, it should.” Jack raised a hand and called out, “You miss this one, how about giving me a shot with you in the booth?”

  J.D. turned around, his gaze landing like a laser on Jack, as if he’d known exactly where he was standing. “Deal,” he said, confidence oozing from the word.

  He wound up, made an exaggerated pitcher’s pose, threw. And missed.

  The crowd erupted in a cheer. J.D.’s expression fell. He quickly put a smile back in place and said, “Deal’s a deal.”

  Annie climbed out of the booth, took the towel Reverend Landers handed her. Jack looked at her and winked.

  Was it his imagination, or was there relief in her eyes?

  “Five shots,” Jack said, handing the Reverend his money.

  J.D. pulled off his shoes—expensive-looking shoes—and climbed in. Jack wished he’d kept them on. He really wanted to get those shoes wet.

  The area around the booth had gone completely quiet. The crowd had deepened, and people were standing on tiptoe to see.

  Jack stepped up to the line, focused for a few seconds and threw the ball. He missed.

  J.D.’s smile was practically blinding. “Don’t choke now, Corbin,” he said.

  Jack picked up another ball, focused on the target, thought about the look on McCabe’s face yesterday when he’d announced he and Annie were getting back together. He threw again.

  This time, he didn’t miss. J.D. hit the water with a satisfying ka-thwunk.

  The crowd erupted in a roar of approval.

  Jack did not look at Annie. He didn’t dare.

  J.D. climbed up, his expression decidedly more somber. “Everybody gets lucky once,” he said.

  Jack took aim and threw. Again, J.D. hit the water.

  Another roar from the crowd. J.D. climbed back up, looking a lot like the wet rat Jack personally thought him to be.

  The fourth throw, Jack missed. J.D. got a little of his confidence back, crossed his arms across his chest and smiled.

  “Last throw,” Reverend Landers said. “Make it a good one, son.”

  Jack didn’t disappoint. The last throw carried with it every ounce of his frustration that a guy like J. D. McCabe could end up with a woman like Annie.

  The ball hit the target with a thump, and J.D. went down.

  A simultaneous cheer went up from the crowd. “Whooo, Corbin! Way to go!”

  For the first time since his return to Macon’s Point, Jack felt as if he belonged. As if this were his team, and he mattered. He liked the feeling. He understood, then, what Annie had meant about belonging.

  He let himself look at her then. Her gaze was pinned on him. She was smiling. H
e smiled back.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  STILL MANNING THE cash register for the bake sale, Clarice missed the excitement at the dunking booth. But she heard all about it from every customer who passed through the tent. Just the thought of seeing J.D. take a bottom-first dip into that booth made her want to go find Jack and hug his neck.

  He was as good a guy as she’d pegged him to be from the start. And if she couldn’t have him, she hoped Annie could.

  “Last call at the First Baptist tent,” she called out to passersby. “We’ve sold fifty-four cakes this morning. Only two left.”

  “I’ll take them.”

  Clarice turned around to find a pair of amused brown eyes staring at her. Very nice, amused brown eyes. The rest of the package, at a quick glance, was pretty nice as well. He looked like someone who spent a good deal of time outdoors, red cheeks, a nose that had been sunburned a few times. “I have to charge extra if you buy both. They’re all we have left.”

  The man let out a choked-sounding laugh. “You are good.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  “No doubt.”

  He was flirting with her. Clarice’s face went warm. She was blushing! In a very uncharacteristic moment, she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  “So what kind are they?”

  “What?” she asked, distracted again by those brown eyes.

  “The cakes.”

  “Oh, those. Ah, Myrtle, what were those two last cakes?”

  The white-haired lady at the other end of the table scanned the tags on the boxes. “Carrot and white chocolate.”

  “Mmm,” he said. “And if I bought them, could I talk you into a slice with some coffee or something?”

  “Well, I…there’s an offer I haven’t had this morning. Appealing as it is, I don’t make a habit of sharing cake with strangers.”

  “I have references,” he said, palms raised.

  “Really?”

  “Really. That’s my buddy over there.” He turned and pointed. “He just defended the honor of the town mayor—”

  “My sister.”

  “Your sister. Two lookers in the family.”

  Oh, all right, so flattery worked for her. “Jack’s your buddy, huh?”