by Tamie Dearen
“She’s very talented,” declared Anne. “She sings and dances, too.”
“Your mom’s never actually seen me do anything.”
“I can tell. I have a sense about these things.”
“That’s my sister, Emily, over there sitting on the floor.”
Ellen looked over to where Emily had plopped down on the floor, surrounded by a pile of old books. “You can tell her there’s a seating area in the back.”
“She’s happy. No use bothering her,” said Anne.
“So Emily’s your big reader in the family?”
“We all read a lot, but Emily is excessive,” laughed Anne.
“Do you have a sci-fi/fantasy section?” Charlie ambled toward the inviting books.
“On the aisle opposite your sister.”
“So, how’s the play coming along?”
“It’s so much fun. We rehearse again this afternoon. But they’re having money troubles—one of the big underwriters dropped out. Hopefully the money will last until we open. Nothing’s for sure with these small groups. That’s why I can’t quit this job at the bookstore.”
“I hope it all works out.”
“Me, too! Especially because of this other actor. She’s got a kid who’s sick, and she doesn’t have insurance. She needs this to turn into a steady gig. I’ve been trying to get donations to help her with hospital bills. And we’ve been taking turns at the hospital to give her a break.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. You know, maybe Mr. Gherring could help.”
“Your boss? Is he that kind of guy? I’ve just seen the stuff in the news about him being such a big playboy.”
“I don’t know what his donation policy is, but he’s a kind and generous man. Or he might even be willing to sponsor the play. In fact, this might be a good way to get the two of you together.”
“What do you mean by together?”
“You know. Together as a couple. Didn’t you volunteer to date him when we talked about him before?”
She started laughing. “I was only kidding. There’s no way Steven Gherring would date me. I’m nobody.”
“Well, he goes out all the time with up-and-coming actresses.”
“I’m not up-and-coming, I’m more like ‘trying to pull myself up and hope to come someday in the future!’”
“You never know until you try.”
“Why don’t you date him?”
“He always dates younger women.”
“But you’re younger than he is, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sophisticated enough for Mr. Gherring.”
“Well, I’m not sophisticated either. And if he’s that snobby, I wouldn’t want to date him anyway.”
“But he’s not snobby at all. He’s really nice, and he doesn’t talk down to me or treat me like a secretary. He even bought tickets for us to go see Beauty and the Beast last night.”
“I just don’t believe he’d want to go out with me, anyway. But I think you have a better shot at it.”
“Well, I’ll introduce you sometime after he comes back from Switzerland. Maybe Gherring Inc. would sponsor your play.”
“I’m willing to meet him if you think that could convince him to help us out.”
“Just wait. I have a feeling I’m right about y’all. I’m a really good matchmaker.”
“Yep, she’s got quite a reputation back in Weatherford.” Charlie arrived at the checkout counter with Emily in tow.
“Is she trying to set you up with someone?” asked Emily.
“Yes. With Steven Gherring, if you can believe that. Isn’t it ridiculous?”
“She’s responsible for quite a few marriages, so you never know. By the way, I’m Emily, and I love your store. Mom, aren’t you going to buy me something?”
“Put it on your Christmas list. It’s time for lunch.”
“I’m Ellen, nice to meet you.”
“Come on, we’ll be late.” Charlie hooked arms with her mom and sister, pulling them outside.
Spencer and Mark were waiting when they arrived at Papa’s Place.
“Aunt May put us in the back room since Mr. Gherring is coming.” Spencer led them to their table, already set up with water and menus. Anne and the girls sat down on one side of the table, and the boys sat down opposite the girls. The aroma of home cooking wafted through the room.
“Wow, that smell is making my stomach growl,” said Emily.
Charlie grabbed a hot yeast roll from a basket on the table, slathering it with butter. “I can see already why this is your favorite place to eat, Mom. I’m surprised you haven’t gained weight.”
“I probably would’ve if I didn’t have to walk so much everywhere I go.”
Gherring appeared in the doorway. “I’m afraid I’ll have to eat quickly and get back to work.” He took the empty chair opposite Anne.
Charlie spoke between bites of roll. “So let me ask you a question, Mr. Gherring. Do you love what you do? Do you find fulfillment in your work?”
“Charlie, don’t start this with Mr. Gherring.” Anne groaned, recognizing a familiar argument.
Gherring raised his eyebrows. “Why do you ask?”
“We have this ongoing debate about whether you should work at a job you hate just because it makes money, or whether you should work at a job that pays less doing what you love to do,” explained Charlie.
“For instance, Charlie thinks I sold out by getting an accounting degree. I’ve already passed my CPA exam, and I’ll be certified in another four months,” said Emily.
“But she hates it,” said Charlie. “Admit it, Em. You dread going to work.”
“But the truth is there’s not a job where you get paid to read really fun books of your choosing all day,” said Emily.
Charlie laughed. “That’s why I said your ideal job was to be a princess, like Belle in Beauty and the Beast with that huge library.”
“And your ideal job?” Gherring asked Charlie.
“I’m doing it. I ski all winter and get paid to teach kids to ski, and in the summer I get paid to take people rafting and rock climbing. What could be better?”
“Maybe a job where you made enough money you didn’t spend every cent on food and rent and then live in a crowded apartment all winter and sleep on friends’ couches all summer,” said Anne.
Gherring laughed. “I’m not getting in the middle of this one.”
“But you didn’t answer my question,” said Charlie.
Gherring thought for a moment. “There’s a lot of things I could say to that. But if I’m honest, I’d have to say I’ve never thought about it. Gherring Inc. was my destiny before I was born. I never had much choice.”
“Maybe you should take a year off. Come to Colorado and be a ski bum. Take some time to enjoy life.”
He laughed, but his expression was almost wistful. “I’ll keep that idea in mind.”
The young people started a debate on whether technology had caused a decrease or increase in communication. Anne and Gherring were quietly listening to their banter, when he said, “I can see why you miss them.”
“They’re really fun, aren’t they? Although I wish they were a little more careful of what they say. Things just pop out of their mouths before their brains have engaged.”
“It’s possible they inherited that trait.”
Anne felt a spark of instant anger, quickly abating when she realized he was teasing. Besides, he was probably right.
“There… You did it again,” he said.
“Did what?”
“About twenty different emotions just zoomed across your face. It must be your eyes. They’re so expressive—I just try to guess what you could possibly be thinking.”
“Well, I hope you can’t ever figure it out. You know, read my mind. That would be really uncomfortable.” She lowered her chin to hide her face.
“Why? What are you thinking that I shouldn’t know? Are you saying secret curse words under your breath?”
Anne reddened
, unable to think of a decent comeback. It would be terrible if he knew what she thought about him. What if he knew how his touch affected her? What if he knew her heart beat harder when he came close? What if he knew the real reason she wanted him to have a wife was to help her stop thinking about him all the time? No, that wasn’t the reason. She wanted someone to take care of him. She didn’t want him to be alone. He deserved to have someone to love him, and the worst thing was he didn’t even know what he was missing.
He was still studying her face when the plates arrived. They devoured the food and stayed at the table chatting for almost thirty minutes. To Anne’s surprise, Gherring no longer seemed to be in a hurry to get back to work.
“I’m not trying to get rid of you or anything, but did you say you had to work some more?”
He stretched and groaned. “I think I’m going to take a break and tackle it tomorrow. I’ve got plenty of time. In fact, if you guys want a ride back to the apartment I could take you.”
“That’d be awesome. I’m not even sure what we’re doing this afternoon since we already went to a play. Oh yeah, we’re going to do MOMA. Hey girls, Mr. Gherring’s going to give us a ride home, and we can rest a bit and then go see the Museum of Modern Arts. They have an Impressionist Exhibit.”
“Can we invite the boys?” asked Emily.
“I don’t mind, but they may have other plans.”
“No ma’am. We have nothin’ but time today. We’ll study tomorrow.”
“Okay, meet you there at, say, three o’clock?”
“Works for us.”
Rayna exclaimed the moment she saw the group enter the apartment lobby. “Look! Look what came for you. You got a dozen red roses. And two gift baskets. I didn’t read the card.”
Anne glanced at Gherring, who was brooding near the elevator. She opened the envelope attached to the roses, but didn’t read it out loud.
“It’s a welcome to New York present from Henri,” she told the girls. “Why don’t you grab the gift baskets and we’ll take them upstairs to open them?”
With their arms full of flowers and cellophane wrapped packages piled high in decorative baskets, they tromped into the elevator.
“Aren’t you going up?” asked Anne when Gherring remained outside the elevator doorway.
“No, I’ve decided to go back and accomplish something at work.” His voice was flat and his eyes stormy.
“Thanks for the ride and for everything else,” said Charlie.
“Will we see you again this weekend?” asked Emily.
His glower softened. “I’m not sure. We’ll see.”
Upstairs, the girls started unpacking the baskets while Anne called Henri on Skype. She turned the laptop toward the girls so he could see them busy exploring their surprises.
“We love the stuff, Henri. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I am sad I cannot be there, so I will try to bribe them to like me.”
“Hi, I’m Charlie. This is awesome. Thank you, thank you! Look Mom—they’re full of different New York stuff, mostly food. There’s a New York Checker Cab Crunch, Statue of Liberty Lollipop, Hampton Popcorn’s White Truffle & Parmesan Popcorn, New York Mints. What’s this? New York Traffic Treats. What’s in that other one, Em?”
“Sour Puss Pickled Ginger Carrots, McClure’s Garlic and Dill Potato Chips, NYC Hot Sauce, Mast Brothers Chocolate Bar, Butter+Love Moustache Cookies. There’s some other stuff in the bottom. Oh! McClure’s Bloody Mary Mix, Z crackers. Ohmygosh! This is so much fun. Oh, sorry. Hi Henri. Nice to meet you. I’m Emily.”
The girls continued to examine the goodies, while Anne turned the computer screen back. “That was so sweet, Henri.”
“And did you like the card with the roses?”
Anne blushed. “Shhhh. I didn’t let anyone read it.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Anne glanced toward the girls to make sure they were not eavesdropping. “Because you said something about wanting to kiss me again.”
“Is that bad? They do not want you to kiss me? Perhaps I should talk to them.”
“If y’all are going to talk about kissing, y’all should get a room.” Emily’s teasing resulted in even more heat in Anne’s already flushed face.
“Mom you’re such a prude. We don’t really care. Just don’t make kissing noises where we can hear them,” said Charlie.
Exasperated, Anne grimaced at Henri. “That’s why.”
The girls left early for the subway station, so Anne could take them by Carved Wood Creations. Mr. Hamilton was nowhere to be seen, so Anne showed them all the beautiful carvings. Each girl picked out a favorite.
“This one is mine,” declared Anne, showing them the Inseparable Love pair. “He carved it from a single piece of wood. That’s how he made them where they won’t come apart.”
“I like this one,” Emily picked out a mom reading a bedtime story to a small pajama clad child, nestled in her lap. “Or maybe this one.” She spotted a pair of ballet dancers, with the female, gracefully arched backward, and perfectly balanced over the head of the male dancer by one hand.
“These are the best. Look.” Charlie found a group of five figures, male and female, with their feet together and their hands clasped, stretched all the way out in a leaning position and held up by the balance of the others. “Look, you can change them around, but they only balance if you put them in just the right order. Otherwise they fall over. It’s like a puzzle.”
“I secretly call that one ‘World Peace.’” Mr. Hamilton emerged from the back. “It’s a really delicate balance and if anything is out of order, it topples over. These must be your daughters you were so excited about.”
“Yes, Mr. Hamilton. This is Emily and Charlie.”
“I’m so glad to meet you both.”
“Mom told us about your shop, but I couldn’t really picture it. These carvings are incredible.” Charlie managed to balance the figures in their original order.
“How on earth did you ever learn to do this? The detail is amazing,” said Emily.
“Lots of practice. I was a chauffer for the Gherring family for many years. That’s a lot of time sitting around waiting to drive them home. Whittling was how I passed the time. Now I have to use these magnifiers to see what I’m doing, but I still love it.”
“See Charlie, it wasn’t that he loved his job, but the job made his pastime possible. And he loved his pastime,” said Emily.
Charlie crossed her arms. “So if you had your life to do over again, would you do it the same way. Would you choose the same job?”
“Yes dear, no regrets. It’s not really the job anyway. It’s the people. Wherever you work and whatever you do, whether it’s a job or a hobby, it’s the people you interact with that really matter. If the Gherring family hadn’t been such incredible people, I would’ve found another job, lickety split.”
“Round two for Emily.” She sported a smug smile.
“You haven’t won yet,” said Charlie. “Mr. Gherring hasn’t given an answer yet, so round one is still up for grabs.”
“Have you met Mrs. Gherring?” he asked.
“Not yet,” said Anne. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night at her house. I can’t wait for them to meet her.”
“Yes, she is quite a woman.” Mr. Hamilton chatted easily with the girls, and by the time they left for the museum, they were exchanging hugs and regrets.
“He’s like a great-grandpa, right?” asked Charlie. “I mean he’s old enough to be ours?”
“Yeah, I guess he is. He’s ninety.”
“Maybe we could just adopt him,” Emily suggested. “He’s so cute and artistic and talented. That’s what I want to be like when I get old.”
“Not me,” said Charlie. “From what Mom has told me, I want to be like Gram.”
The girls arrived fifteen minutes early to MOMA, having effectively traversed through the subway system with Emily’s phone app. Spencer and Mark were waiting inside the lobby. Anne traile
d behind the other four, who conversed easily about the artwork. Charlie loved a huge picture of a man that was made up of thousands of tiny photographs of other people. Emily loved everything in the Impressionist exhibit.
“I can’t believe I’m actually looking at ‘Starry Night’,” said Emily. “It’s a lot smaller than I thought it would be. Look. People are taking pictures of it. I thought you weren’t supposed to. They just kind of wait ‘til the guard wanders off.”
“Maybe it’s okay as long as you don’t use a flash,” suggested Spencer.
“I’ll get you next to the painting.” Charlie pulled out her phone and took a picture of Emily standing by the famous painting.
“Ma’am,” said a guard who happened to pass by. “Picture-taking is not allowed.”
“Okay, sorry,” said Charlie, giggling.
Emily, totally mortified, gave a scathing look to Charlie. And both boys stifled laughter. Charlie immediately posted it on the Internet. “It’s not like they’re going to put us in jail.”
Anne stood for a long time looking at the Monet paintings. He was her favorite. She loved the colors and the peaceful impact of the artwork. In contrast to the Van Gogh, the Monets were huge, covering entire walls.
As the group moved through the museum, Spencer seemed to be spending more time near Emily, while Mark was talking to Charlie. Anne was surprised that the pairs were reversed from her prediction. But both pairs seemed to enjoy a good bit of verbal sparring, and Anne congratulated herself on a successful matchmaking effort, at least for the span of the day.
Arriving back in the museum lobby, Anne said, “I wanted us to do a tour of some kind, double decker bus, maybe. But it’s kind of late, I guess.”
“Hey,” Spencer said. “We should all go on the Twilight Tour. It’s a boat that takes you on the Hudson. I think it costs about thirty bucks. Is that too much?”
“Well, since we got theater tickets for free, we could afford that,” said Anne, glancing at the girls to see if the idea was agreeable.
“I’m gonna want a warmer coat and a hat, if we’re out on the water at night,” said Emily.
