Finding Home

by Maddie James

  Jane put her palms flat down on the table. Slowly she pushed herself to her feet. Surprising even herself, Jane marched across the dance floor.

  Like Patrick Swayze in the movie, Graham twirled Dawn around and lowered her, bending her back and leaning over her in an imitation kiss. They lingered like that, staring into each other’s eyes, their lips inches apart.

  “Excuse me.” Jane tapped Graham’s shoulder. “I believe this is my dance.”

  Chapter Five

  Graham slowly pulled Dawn to her feet and gazed at Jane with curiosity. Jane flashed a smile, mentally deflecting the glare Dawn threw at her, and then she extended her hand to Graham.

  “Dawn.” Graham acknowledged her sister with a stiff bow and then took Jane’s hand.

  Drawing her into his embrace, Graham looked down at her with his hypnotic gaze. His hand was firm and oh, so very familiar. The fingers that urged her toward him were strong but gentle. In a moment of surprising intimacy, they gazed into each other’s eyes, her knees began to collapse and her insides turned into molten lava.

  With a quick grin, Graham swayed his hips to the beat of the mambo music. As the rhythm enveloped her, Jane imitated him, cautiously at first. What was she doing flirting with this cosmopolitan man—this man so different from the scrawny kid who used to pick on her in journalism class?

  Emboldened, Jane moved with Graham until he hauled her to him with a sharp tug. Startled, her gaze flew up to meet his. He twirled her around and she followed effortlessly, her heart throbbing and her face flushed.

  They spun around the room, their steps never faltering. Jane gave into the exhilaration of the rapid movement and the thrill of being held in Graham’s strong arms. Her nerves shouted. Blood rushed in her ears. She forgot everything. Everything but Graham.

  After one final swing, Graham dipped her down, his hands supporting her back, and just as he’d done with Dawn, leaned over her, his mouth inches away from hers, his gaze sizzling and sultry. Graham’s breath touched her face with sweet warmth.

  And then he kissed her. His lips were tender but demanding. Hot. Moist. She tried to analyze her embarrassing situation—bending backward, off balance, in the arms of the guy she loved in high school. Instead her lashes drifted over her eyes. His heart-stopping kiss seemed to last a lifetime.

  It was a kiss so reminiscent of the one fifteen years earlier. A kiss that led to other things.

  Jane’s tummy lurched at the memory of Graham’s fingers moving over her lace panties. With frightening accuracy he’d found her pleasure points. She remembered the feel of his gentle kissing and stroking, and the incredible heat of their bodies together. She almost heard their rapid breathing.

  There’d been a hint of innocence mixed with Graham’s impatient sex, an awkwardness that Jane attributed to herself. She was inexperienced the night Graham had taken her virginity. Inexperienced, self-conscious, and so very in love.

  Today that awesome lovemaking remained her most vivid memory of graduation night. Having sex with Graham in a car on a dark and lonely lane was her ultimate expression of love. When he’d come inside her, she’d known this was right. This was home. This was where she was meant to be. It was a certainty she’d stubbornly held onto all these years, coloring her view of other men and making her ultimate decision to remain single seem the only choice.

  Now with Graham’s lips on hers, Jane was home again. His kiss and her eager response seemed to go on and on.

  Until the music ended.

  Applause, like the roar of a freight train, erupted around them. She pushed back, almost losing her tenuous balance. With the support of Graham’s hand drawing her upward, she scrambled to her feet. Mortified, she glanced around her to see her classmates clapping and cheering. Clint let out a low wolf whistle. She spotted Steven at the edge of the dance floor, a wide-eyed, hit-by-a-car look on his face. The enormity of her situation sunk in, she turned back to Graham.

  “Thanks for the dance.” Her face was on fire.

  He still held her hand. His grip was affirming and safe. “My pleasure.” Graham bowed and brought the back of her hand up to his lips.

  Her eyes widened as Graham kissed her hand like a fabled knight from long ago, thrilling her English teacher heart. Her pulse shot into overdrive.

  “It’s time for the group picture.” Claudia clapped her hands. “Come along everybody.”

  Jane jerked her hand away. Graham’s gaze stroked her like a searing brand.

  At that moment Claudia grabbed Graham’s arm. “I need him for the class picture.” The reunion tyrant ushered him off the dance floor toward the photographer.

  As her classmates drifted away, Jane remained in the middle of the dance floor. Her hand strayed to her lips that still tasted of his kiss.

  She felt the same stupid embarrassment once before. Back in high school when she’d forgotten her only two lines in the school play and ran off stage. The next day she’d hardly managed to show her face at class sure everyone would point at her and say she ruined the production. But no. The accolades were for Dawn’s triumph. No one cared that poor Jane, the “other twin,” had blown her lines. No one, but Jane.

  What had she done? Tonight she made a fool of herself on the dance floor with all of her Dragon classmates watching. And she enjoyed it.

  Graham was a confirmed bachelor. He’d become the kind of guy who pursued woman like her sister. Sophisticated women. Women of experience. Not shy hometown girls.

  A lump lodged in Jane’s throat. Wait a minute. She wasn’t sorry she kissed him. She was much too old and independent to care about what other people thought.

  “Jane?”

  Steven stood in front of her. The same Steven who asked her to marry him. Divorced a good two years now, he was steady, employed, a CPA, and attractive in a ho-hum sort of way. To top it all, he was available. There weren’t many available guys in Legend, Tennessee.

  “Claudia said to hurry. You know how my sister is.” Steven grinned, a lopsided sort of grin and put his hand on the small of her back to escort her toward the others.

  Steven’s touch didn’t matter. It was as meaningless as the casual brush of a stranger’s hand. No electricity. No sensual burn through the fabric of her dress. Nothing like Graham’s touch.

  Jane knew she couldn’t have it all. She had a better chance of getting staid, boring Steven Ridgeway than capturing exciting and stylish Graham Winchester.

  She didn’t know what she wanted, but Steven wasn’t it. Graham might not be it either, yet she had to find out. Somehow she had to get him to make love to her. Then she would know. She’d know if Graham was truly her “home” or a sad fantasy from her lost youth.

  Pleased by her renewed resolve, Jane could be generous. She turned toward Steven and smiled. “I hear your son won his flag football game.”

  ****

  Graham didn’t like the smile Jane wasted on Steven what’s-his-name. He remembered that guy. A loser as a kid.

  “Come on, you two.” Claudia shooed Steven and Jane toward the assembled group. “Steven, in the back row by Graham. Jane, in front next to Dawn.”

  “Okay, sis.” Steven saluted.

  Graham watched the way Jane flipped her blond hair out of her eyes as she slid in beside her sister. She intrigued him. Breaking in on Dawn had shown uncharacteristic audacity. He liked that. He liked the inviting look in her blue eyes and the way her body melded to his. He shifted uneasily as a certain part of his body began to respond to his thoughts.

  She’d grown more beautiful in fifteen years. Maturity became her. Jane wasn’t a thin, gawky teenager any longer. Far from it. When he remembered the brush of her breast against his chest, Graham stirred uncomfortably.

  He purposefully moved behind Jane where he could smell the soft essence of her lavender perfume. He sensed the pent up yearning that was ready to explode within her. She was a wallflower unfolding in a delightful, seductive way.

  “So, you’re not afraid to cross Dawn any longer,” h
e whispered into her ear.

  “Some children grow up.” Her back stiff, she didn’t turn to face him.

  “I’m glad.”

  He wanted to run his hands across her brows and stroke the tender edges of her eyes, rubbing them, caressing them, kissing them. He realized he wanted to do so many other things with Jane. Things he’d never thought about doing to Jane until graduation night.

  Claudia pushed into place beside Jane. What was wrong with him? He’d no business thinking about having sex again with Jane Smith. Not that he didn’t want to. Really bad. But where had lust without love got him in New York?

  Better to think about her as his friend. The way they were in elementary school—building snow forts and throwing snowballs. Or holding hands at middle school skating parties during the couple skate, and falling on their butts doing the silly hokey-pokey dance. They played flag football until Mr. Smith intervened, telling him to play with his male friends.

  Trouble was boys weren’t as interesting or challenging as Jane. She could hold her own on the debate team and offer a thought-provoking political opinion. In high school, she helped him write his first newspaper article, removing all his sloppy passive voice and questioning the angle of his story.

  “Move closer.” The photographer motioned them together.

  Steven pushed up against his right shoulder. Clint shoved into his left side. Graham was forced to move behind Dawn with her sharp, flowery fragrance. She turned and smiled.

  Graham mentally smacked a hand against his forehead. He’d been naïve back then to think going steady with Dawn wouldn’t ruin his friendship with Jane.

  “One more,” the photographer said. “Hold that pose.”

  The flashbulb popped. Graham blinked. He wanted something more. Permanent. Old-fashioned. Something that could never be gotten from the women he dated in the city. But something Jane seemed to possess. Then and now.

  Chapter Six

  Midnight realized sometime during the first day of interviews that Legend didn’t run on the same time she did. This was The South, and life moved more slowly. People arrived when they arrived, didn’t mind waiting, and were glad to sit and talk a while. Midnight had to stop herself from tapping her pen, or shaking her foot nervously as she endured yet another story of the history of the person’s craft. Or the person’s house, health, or pet dog. Living in Mayberry was going to require some adjustments.

  Friday night at five-thirty, Midnight closed and locked the big oak-and-glass doors. The sign painter had done his thing earlier in the day. Gold-and-black letters arched across the large plate glass window advertising THE EMPORIUM, and a placard hung over the doorway, perpendicular to the building, with the name in smaller letters. It looked like a business. It looked successful already. Midnight felt a surprising swell of pride.

  There seemed no end of local artisans willing to showcase their wares, and no end of the variety of wares they created. Short of voodoo dolls, she’d have nearly everything under the sun available for sale. Midnight’s initial notion of how to make a profit for herself while making money for the vendors would only have to be altered slightly. She’d have contracts prepared and signed as soon as she had a moment to find a lawyer in the area. But three straight days of interviews had taken a toll. She was exhausted. She doubted there’d be a law office open on Saturday, but if there had been, she wasn’t sure she’d have had the energy to call.

  Since arriving in Legend, she’d been staying at the Legend’s Landing Bed & Breakfast, where proprietress Suzie pampered her with a wonderfully soft bed in a feminine bedroom, fluffy towels and creamy scented homemade soap in the bathroom, and a beautifully presented, delicious breakfast and supper each day. Suzie didn’t serve lunch at the B&B, but Midnight had approached her about preparing lunches for The Emporium and Suzie seemed amenable to the idea. Suzie was one of the cheeriest, most energetic people Midnight had ever met. She’d surely been born to run a bed and breakfast.

  Suzie had invited Midnight to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas at the B&B, even though by then she would have moved to her apartment above The Emporium. Suzie had said it wasn’t good to be alone in a new place for the holidays and that Midnight was not to worry. Midnight had quickly accepted. The B&B was homey, even though it wasn’t home. Suzie had the place looking very festive with her old-fashioned decorations, and with her constant baking, it smelled like Christmas. Suzie believed in getting into the spirit of the holidays early, even though it was October. She figured if retailers could get in the Christmas spirit before Halloween, she could, too. Midnight had even helped string popcorn for the tree tucked back into the second floor landing. She felt cared for, and welcome, here.

  Rounding the corner of her building, Midnight heard the honk of a horn and automatically raised her hand in greeting, feeling a smile light her face. She didn’t know which vehicle had honked. Maybe the white Sunbird with the dented passenger door, maybe the dark green sedan with the tinted windows. Without doubt, it was someone she’d interviewed in the last three days. Or their spouse or cousin or brother, sister, neighbor, boss, or employee. Everyone talked to everyone else around here. So far, Midnight hadn’t run into distasteful gossip, but there was sure a lot of talk. A lime green Volkswagen Beetle pulled over to the curb as Midnight continued down the sidewalk, and she glanced over to see Betsy McClain.

  “Hey, Betsy!” she called as she rounded the front end of the car and stopped at the driver’s side window.

  “Hey, Midnight. How’s it going with the interviews?”

  “Well, as you no doubt know, the interviews are complete. As of about ten minutes ago. It’s been tiring, but great. For the most part, except for people tending to run late, the process ran flawlessly. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Betsy turned a very becoming shade of pale pink. “Oh sure you could. I guess it might have taken longer.”

  “It would have taken forever. I wouldn’t have had a clue of who to ask, in the first place. I just had this general idea of opening an arts and crafts showcase. Without you, there’s no telling what would’ve happened. I owe you, big time.”

  “No you don’t. I’m just glad to be part of it. I think it’s exciting, and it’ll be good for the economy, too. Who knows what will happen with that factory. There’s so much red tape and controversy about that whole thing. I’m not even sure what I think about it.” As she spoke, a delicate frown creased her golden brow. “But let’s don’t talk about that. Are you headed back to Suzie’s?”

  Of course Midnight hadn’t told Betsy she was staying at the B&B. Word had simply gotten around.

  “Yes, till I get the upstairs apartment in my building fixed up. The B&B is a great place to stay, but if I’m there much longer I’ll have to buy elastic waist jeans. Suzie’s a great cook.”

  “Exactly! My poor husband wishes I was like that. Sometimes I go to Suzie’s cooking school on Saturdays, but lately I haven’t felt all that energetic about it. After working all week at the office, I want to do my nesting thing on weekends. And sometimes I nap. I know my napping days are coming to an end.” She patted her tummy affectionately. “When Junior gets here, I’ll be lucky to sleep at all. Sometimes I can’t now because he kicks and wakes me up.”

  “What will you do when the baby comes, Betsy? Stay home or go back to work?” Midnight hoped Martin McClain would let Betsy make that decision, and hire someone if she wanted to stay home and raise their baby. Evidently, his teenage son had a different mother, because Betsy was clearly too young for that.

  “I don’t know yet. With money being tight, the decision’s more complicated. I’d rather stay home until Junior goes to school.”

  “So, Junior is definitely a boy?”

  “I just say Junior. She might be a girl. I decided I didn’t want to know ahead of time. Takes away that much of the fun.”

  “Could be Betsy, Jr., then,” Midnight said with a wink.

  “Wouldn’t that be funny? Can you do that?”

 
“I don’t know if anyone has, but I bet you can name a baby just about anything. Celebrities come up with pretty odd names for their children. Some that would make Betsy, Jr. seem ordinary.”

  Betsy giggled. “True. But I bet her daddy wouldn’t go for it. He’d think it was a crazy idea. Really, he doesn’t even want the baby named after him if it’s a boy. Too many McClains have done that, and it makes family reunions real confusing. If you say one name, five fellas think you’re calling them.” She sighed. “So no Betsy, Jr. But it was fun to think about for a minute. You have cool ideas, Midnight!”

  “You were probably closer when you said ‘crazy.’ Crazy ideas. That would be me. Sometimes they work out, though.” She tipped her head to one side as she did when considering a new thought. “Actually, my crazy ideas work quite often,” she said much more quietly, almost to herself. She was thinking of the store displays for which she’d become renowned, traveling around the country to create a one-of-a-kind look for each location of the department store chain that had employed her for so many years. She hoped to do the same for displays in her own little shop.

  “Um, Midnight?”

  She pulled herself back to the moment. “Yes! My mind was wandering, huh?”

  “Extremely. Anyhow, I gotta go. Supper to nuke and throw on the table. See you!” She waved and spun her car around, saluting with a quick toot-toot on the little car’s horn.

  Midnight waved limply, trying to keep her mind on the present. Away from the expensive and award-winning work she had done for years in her job. Away from the major cities she had visited, away from the co-workers who had been the closest thing Midnight had to actual friends.

  Away from her old life which, though glamorous and monetarily rewarding, had been pretty hollow. She realized that now. Had realized it the day she’d found the farewell note on her kitchen table. Jeff had been just as glamorous as the places she’d lived and work. He’d also been just as devoid of substance, when you got right down to it. Midnight had had a lot of time to ponder her relationship with Jeff.