Dixie Belle

by Debby Mayne

  “More than ready.”

  As they walked down the city streets, Tom took her hand in his as though it was the most natural thing in the world. This simple gesture totally made her day. She resisted the urge to sigh her contentment. No point in scaring Tom.

  As they walked, Tom pointed out some things she might not have paid much attention to on her own—from a tiny hole-in-the-wall deli to a produce vendor standing outside a meat market. “You can get some of the best buys from those places,” he said. “They don’t have much, if any, overhead.”

  He also showed her several historical landmarks. “Everything here seems so old.” She left out the rest of her thought—that it also seemed dirty. Particles from exhaust floated through the air, leaving a hazy film on windows and walls. The buildings were discolored where cleaning crews had removed graffiti.

  “That’s because it is old. This town is rich with history.”

  Cissy nodded. She’d never been very good at history in school, but maybe it wasn’t too late to learn. She asked question after question, and Tom answered most of them without too much trouble. Finally he laughed.

  “Cissy Hillwood, you’ve asked me a lot of questions, and now it’s my turn to ask you a few.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “But remember that I’ve never been big on history . . . until now.”

  “Forget history.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Remember what I said earlier. I just want to know more about you.”

  At first the questions were standard, like what she did in her spare time, how many siblings she had, and whether or not she missed her friends. Then he started digging a little deeper, making her squirm.

  “Why the sudden move to New York?” he asked.

  For the first time she could remember, Cissy was speechless. She looked down as she pondered how much to tell him. The ordeal with Spencer was bad enough, but reliving it once again only to have the situation turn Tom away from her seemed downright cruel. Then she thought about how a lie could snowball and get worse. Since this was an impossible question to evade, she decided to entrust him with a brief explanation of the situation and see how he responded. If he didn’t like what he heard, at least he’d know the truth, and she would never have to cover anything up. Plus his reaction would give her a chance to see more about his character.

  After she finished talking, he blew out a long breath. “No wonder your uncle is so protective. I had no idea how bad it was. No man should ever threaten a woman for any reason whatsoever. I’m glad you stood up to him and gave him what he deserved.”

  Her heart swelled as she saw that he meant what he’d said. “That wasn’t even the worse part of it,” she admitted. “What really got my goose was how everyone in Hartselle acted afterward—like it was my fault that the golden boy of Hartselle got locked away.”

  “How sad for Hartselle.” Tom squeezed her hand and turned her around to face him. “But good for New York.” He grinned. “And me.”

  The way he looked at her gave her a tummy tickle, and that always revved her speech engine. “I’m not so sure Uncle Forest would agree with you. He’s probably regretting the invitation, but he’d never actually come right out and say that. He’s such a sweet man, even though he comes across as a grouch most of the time.” She continued on and on, describing her aunt and uncle, and all Tom did was nod or let out a single-word comment letting her know he was listening.

  Finally, after a good fifteen minutes she realized what was happening. She lifted her hand to her mouth.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  The concern in Tom’s voice, combined with a humongous case of nerves, made her laugh. And it wasn’t just a simple ha-ha type laugh. It came out normal at first but quickly erupted into a diabolical laugh that she’d frightened many old boyfriends with in the past.

  Once again Tom stopped and stared down at her. “Are you okay, Cissy? Something seems to have happened here. Something I don’t understand.”

  “I have said entirely too much, and sometimes that makes me laugh . . . from nerves.” She grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

  “Sometimes we just need to talk.” He placed his hand around her shoulders. “And I’m a pretty good listener, if you’ll just give me a chance.”

  “Thank you.” No matter what he said or how comforting he tried to be, her cheeks still flamed with the embarrassment of not knowing when to keep her trap shut until it was too late.

  She was relieved when he changed the subject. “Hungry?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Let’s get something to eat while we’re out. I’m starving.”

  She gave him a jaunty head-toss followed by a flirty grin. “So where should we go?”

  “I could come up with a list of possibilities for you to choose from.” He held up a hand and tapped each finger as he named the types of restaurants. “Chinese, Indian, Thai, Mexican, French . . . ” He put down his hand. “I’ve run out of fingers, but there’s also a great Greek restaurant not far from here.”

  “Aren’t there any normal places like where we can get fried chicken or pork chops or meat loaf?”

  He feigned shock. “Normal? Here in New York City? How dare you even suggest such a thing.”

  She playfully swatted at him. “You know what I mean. I don’t know anything about Indian, Thai, or Greek. I like Chinese and Mexican, but I’m not in the mood for either.”

  Tom pondered that for a few seconds. “There is a decent little café that offers a nice variety of American food.”

  “Variety sounds good.” His smile warmed her from the inside out. “Especially when it’s American.”

  “Then let’s go there.”

  Throughout dinner and afterward on their walk back to her place, Cissy flip-flopped back and forth between letting down her guard and biting her tongue. Would she ever be able to relax completely in Tom’s presence without worrying about giving up the shop? Only time would tell.

  Chapter 17

  THE NEXT MORNING Cissy got ready in her tiny apartment. The bathroom was so small she didn’t have room for all her cosmetics, so she had them arranged on a TV tray right outside the bathroom door. She made a mental note to ask Charlene about the container store where she found her little cabinet because this simply wouldn’t do. She also needed better lighting; the single dim bulb above the bathroom mirror didn’t help matters any.

  With all her clothes crammed into the tiny closet, she had a difficult time picking out something to wear. Tonight she’d pull something out for tomorrow so she wouldn’t have the hassle first thing in the morning while trying to get ready. Fortunately Aunt Bootsie had packed a steamer and said she could keep it as long as she needed to. Everything was rumpled and needed freshening, but it was pointless to do anything about it before shoving it into the closet. She sure did miss her walk-in closet back home.

  Feeling somewhat bedraggled, she took one last look around her apartment, stepped out into the hallway, and locked the door. Good thing her apartment was close to the office. She barely made it in on time.

  Dave glanced up and did a double take. “You might want to check yourself in the mirror,” he whispered.

  She dropped her jacket on the back of her chair and headed straight for the ladies’ room. When she glanced in the mirror, she saw lipstick smeared over her chin and a huge smudge of mascara beneath one eye. One side of her collar was turned in, creating an awkward bulge at her neckline. She straightened her shirt and then grabbed a paper towel to wipe the makeup smears. It took her several minutes to fix everything. Her next purchase needed to be a lighted makeup mirror for the bathroom and after that a full-length mirror that she could hang over the door.

  When she walked back to her desk, Dave gave her a thumbs-up and nodded. “So how’s the apartment?”

  “Good.” So far, besides the freedom, the only thing good about it was the comfortable bed, but she didn’t want to say those words aloud.

  “I bet I know what to get you for a housewar
ming gift.” Dave grinned. “A good light. Some of these old apartments are pretty dark.”

  “You don’t need to give me anything. Oh, and thanks for the food.”

  “Charlene said you’d appreciate it.” He stacked some papers and tapped them. “Mr. Counts is having a meeting in an hour. Need help getting ready for it?”

  “Do you think I do?” She forced a smile. “Never mind. I know the answer to that question.” She lifted her hands. “I have no idea where to start.”

  Over the next half hour Dave helped her gather some information to present at the meeting. “He likes everyone to contribute something,” Dave explained. “You’re actually doing just fine.”

  “Yeah, after giving away the farm.”

  “It was nothing that couldn’t be fixed,” he reminded her with a smugness she knew she deserved. “Actually I think everyone is relieved that the owner’s niece made that mistake and not them.”

  “Are people talking about me?”

  He bobbed his head side to side. “What do you think?”

  She sighed. “I think they probably all see me as a loser.”

  “Not a loser. Just someone who doesn’t know a thing about this business but got the job because of connections.”

  “Okay, I know, but you didn’t have to come right out and say that.”

  Dave shrugged. “I thought you liked the truth.”

  “I do, but sometimes it’s painful.” Cissy grimaced, seeing again that her ties to her uncle had pluses and minuses. But she’d show them—and herself—that she wasn’t a total flake. She actually had brains in her head, and she fully intended to use them in this job.

  When they finally sat down in the meeting room, Cissy felt good about what she’d prepared. Even Uncle Forest seemed pleasantly surprised that she contributed. When no one was looking, she mouthed, “Thank you,” to Dave. He smiled and turned his attention back to the meeting. She was relieved when the meeting finally came to an end. She’d gone through the entire hour without making any mistakes or saying something that left others rolling their eyes.

  After work that night Charlene stopped by. “Why don’t we grab some dinner on the street and see what kind of free entertainment we can find?”

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Excitement coursed through Cissy. “Let’s go.”

  They ate chicken on a stick from a street vendor and an apple from a small produce stand as they walked the streets. After watching a mime on one corner, a flautist on another, and a small band on another street corner, Charlene motioned toward a bench.

  “So when will you see Tom again?” Charlene asked as they sat down.

  Cissy shrugged. “I’m not sure. We didn’t talk about it last night.”

  Charlene tilted her head as she studied Cissy. “I still can’t believe you actually went to all that trouble and expense just for Tom.”

  “I’ve thought about that. It wasn’t just for him.” Cissy glanced down.

  Charlene touched her arm. “You’ve already confessed, remember?”

  “I know.” Cissy hated to admit it, but Tom had been a big motivator. However, now that she was out, she planned to make the most of it, Tom or no Tom. “I think it was time for me to do this, regardless of Tom.”

  Charlene gave her a look of apology. “I feel bad—like I somehow contributed to something you might regret. I really egged you on, didn’t I?”

  “No, don’t feel bad. It was my decision and mine alone. You didn’t make me do anything.”

  “Of course I didn’t make you, but I did twist your arm with the temptation of an available apartment.”

  The rest of their evening together was more subdued. Charlene didn’t say much, and Cissy felt that the spark of excitement had long since gone out.

  Later that night as she lay in bed listening to the sirens below, Cissy pondered some of her decisions over the past few years. Most of them had been made impulsively, and this was no different. However, in spite of her misgivings over the tiny apartment, she felt that until she had to deal with things on her own, she’d never learn total self-sufficiency. She’d learned how to swim by being given a few basic lessons then jumping off the deep end. And that’s exactly what she was doing now. What scarier place to be on her own than New York City? Could she get any deeper than that? One thing about it—she’d either sink or swim. There was no in between in this town.

  On her way home from work Tuesday her cell phone rang. When she glanced down and saw that it was Tom, her pulse quickened.

  “We’re having a coffee shop talent show at my church tomorrow,” he said. “Would you like to go?”

  “Would I ever!” She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. “I mean, yes, I would be delighted.”

  He laughed. “I like your first response better. I’ll pick you up at six thirty at your apartment. It’s casual, so wear jeans and sneakers.”

  Wednesday seemed to drag, but the end of the workday finally came, and she didn’t waste a second gathering her things and heading for the elevator. Now that Dave had been promoted, he stayed a little longer. As she passed his desk, he smiled.

  “Got a date?”

  She grinned back. “Do I look like I have a date?”

  “Have fun.” He held up a paper. “This report is a bear, but I’m not complaining. Maybe I’ll get out of here in time to eat dinner and go to bed at a decent time tonight.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  As Cissy walked to her apartment, she thought about Dave and how much energy he was putting into his work. She understood his ambition, but she felt bad that he neglected his social life. A single man living in the big city shouldn’t be cooped up in an office from sunup to sundown.

  Thoughts of Dave faded quickly as she pulled on her most flattering pair of jeans. It took her a little longer to choose a top, but she finally settled on a retro muslin peasant style that seemed somewhat coffee-shoppish. One look from Tom let her know she’d made the right choice.

  Tom tried to describe some of the people as they walked toward the storefront church. “They’re from all over the country, and we even have some international members, which makes it quite a bit different from what you’re probably used to.”

  As soon as they walked into the building with the glass door, she realized what an understatement his last comment was. The room wasn’t terribly wide, but it was deep, with folding tables and chairs on both sides of a center aisle.

  “We use folding chairs so we can reconfigure the room according to the program.” Tom glanced down at her. “The chairs are in rows for Sunday services, and sometimes it’s hard to find a seat we’re so packed. We’re thinking about having two services, but we don’t want to rush into that until we’re sure it makes sense.”

  Cissy continued looking around the room and noticed the plain white walls on either side and band equipment on the platform at the front. “This doesn’t look anything like a church,” she said.

  “Since we minister to a wide variety of people, including some who didn’t like traditional churches, we thought it would be best to keep all the focus on the services rather than the building and furnishings.”

  That made sense to Cissy.

  Tom led her to the refreshment station, where they got coffee and pastries, and found a seat near the front. Tom started out introducing the acts, but halfway through the night, one of the assistant pastors took over. Cissy found herself sighing with contentment throughout the night as she realized she was finally living her dream. She couldn’t have planned a more perfect evening.

  As they walked to her apartment afterward, Tom alternated between holding her hand and putting his arm around her. She loved the hand-holding, but when he rested his arm on her shoulder or middle of her back, she felt protected. When they got to her apartment door, she invited him in.

  “Not tonight. I have an early morning tomorrow, so I need to go home and get some rest.”

  Disappointment pulled her shoulders down, and she h
ad to dig deep to keep the lilt in her voice. “Maybe some other time?”

  “Of course. Would you like to go with me to hand out sandwiches in the subway on Saturday?”

  “I would love to.” She frowned. “Who do you hand sandwiches to and why?”

  A peaceful expression covered his face. “We find people who look like they could use a meal and a message of hope.”

  “And you give them both.” Cissy looked up at him, and he took her breath away as they locked gazes. At that moment she knew he was about to kiss her.

  As his face closed in on hers, her lips tingled with anticipation. She let out a deep sigh as they made contact. She instinctively placed her hand behind his head, and the kiss grew deeper.

  He finally pulled away with his eyes at half-mast. “Cissy, you are an amazing woman. Not only are you sweet and pretty, I love the fact that you love the Lord. I can see something really special forming between us.”

  That was all Cissy needed to hear. “Me too.”

  “Good.” He leaned over, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and took a step back. “I’ll call you Friday.”

  As Cissy closed the door behind her, she practically melted into the floor. There was no way she’d let this one get away. Even Mama would love him, and that was rare.

  Now the only thing she needed to work on was her professional life. Training and studying had gotten old after the first week, and now it was really getting under her skin. Cissy had pushed hard to do more on her own, but Dave kept telling her that Uncle Forest still didn’t feel that she was ready. By Friday she had decided it was ridiculous for him to hold her first mistake against her, so she marched right up to his open door and knocked.

  Grinning, he motioned for her to come on in. “What do you need, Cissy?”

  “I’ve been studying for—like—ever, and I’m ready to make some sales. I know you’re all worried after what I did, but I learned my lesson and I won’t ever do that again and—”

  He held up both hands and belted out a deep laugh. “I know, I know. I’m surprised it took you so long to do this.”