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Dogwood Hill (9781460345795)

Page 10

by Woods, Sherryl


  “I honestly don’t know why you thought any of this was a good idea,” Doris Benson continued. “Everyone I’ve ever known who worked in retail says it’s incredibly demanding, and that’s without the added pressure of it being your own business. I’ve left a couple of messages over the weekend, but I assume you were too exhausted to call back.”

  Though her mother never meant to instill guilt in her offspring, she managed to do it just the same.

  “To be honest, I haven’t even checked my messages,” Liz told her, her face as flushed as if she’d been caught with her hand in that old chintz cookie jar that had sat on her mom’s kitchen counter for years. “You’re right about the exhaustion. Being on my feet all day has been tougher than I thought it would be. I thought being in a classroom would have prepared me, but it didn’t come close.”

  Even as she made the admission, she knew it had been a mistake. Of course, her mother seized on it.

  “If this is turning out to be so difficult, are you still sure it’s what you want?” Doris asked, her voice finally filled with genuine concern, rather than judgment. “There’s no harm in changing your mind. I’m sure you could get your old job back. I ran into your principal the other day, and she said they would absolutely love to have you whenever you’re ready. Everyone at that school loved you, you know.”

  Liz sighed at the exaggeration. She’d butted heads with parents, other teachers and that very same principal on too many occasions to count. The only thing she’d truly loved about the job had been the kids, most of them so eager to learn and open to new ideas.

  Hanging on to her patience by a thread, she said, “Mom, I’m not coming back to Charlotte, and I don’t want to teach again. This is the life I want, and this is where I want to be. This weekend may have been exhausting, but it was in a good way. Seeing a dream come to life and realizing that the shop was going to be a success was amazing.”

  “But, sweetheart, your family is here. We miss you. And you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  “I’m hardly alone. I’ve made a lot of friends.”

  “That doesn’t make up for family.”

  “No, it’s not the same,” she agreed, though right this second she rejoiced that it wasn’t the same. That wasn’t something she was about to tell her overprotective, easily offended mother, though. “Why don’t you and Dad come for a visit some weekend? You’ll fall in love with Chesapeake Shores the same way I have. And I’m dying to show off my house and the shop. Maybe then you’ll understand.”

  “You know how your father hates to travel.”

  “Then bring LeeAnn and Danielle. We could have a girls’ weekend.”

  “Won’t you be too busy for that?” Doris asked, though she did sound tempted.

  Her reaction was enough to encourage Liz to press a little harder. “I’ll have to work during the day, yes, but you could shop or just enjoy being by the bay. There are some wonderful restaurants you could try. We’d have our evenings together. We could play Scrabble or poker, the way we used to when we’d go to the beach on vacation.”

  Her mother sighed. “I’ll think about it and speak to your sisters. You know how busy they are, though. The kids keep them hopping. I’m not sure their husbands would be willing to take over, even for a couple of days.”

  “Then they’re married to the wrong men,” Liz said without thinking.

  “What a terrible thing to say!” her mother replied. “You know better.”

  Liz didn’t know better, but it was an argument she wasn’t likely to win. Besides, her sisters seemed happy enough with their marriages. It truly wasn’t her place to suggest they’d settled, too eager to walk down the aisle to wait for the right men to come along. Seriously, how could she even hint at such a thing when her own supposedly perfect marriage had turned out to be such a sham?

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Please don’t mention it.”

  “Of course not,” her mom said. “I’m not going to stir up trouble.”

  “I hope you can come, though,” Liz said. “Promise me you’ll try.”

  “I’ll do my best, sweetheart. You take care of yourself. Don’t work too hard. And don’t forget to call me once in a while. Otherwise I’ll worry.”

  As Liz hung up, she couldn’t help noting that her mom had never actually asked how the holiday weekend at the store had gone. Even if Liz had shared the final sales tally with her, she doubted her mother would have been pleased. She sometimes wondered if her family wasn’t hoping that she’d fail just so she’d come home again.

  Well, that, she thought with renewed determination, simply wasn’t going to happen. The doubts she’d harbored over the winter had been wiped away by the weekend’s success. A glance at her very healthy deposit slip for tomorrow morning, which didn’t even include the credit card sales, reassured her once again that she was right where she belonged.

  * * *

  Aidan had been expecting a visit from Porter Hobbs on Tuesday morning, but he hadn’t expected Rob Larkin to accompany him. Now the three of them were crammed into the small coach’s office.

  Rob gave Aidan a sympathetic look, then sat back. “Okay, Porter, say your piece. We need to let Coach Mitchell get back to work.”

  The big man, whose face Aidan recalled seeing plastered on a few auto dealership billboards out on the highway, stood up. He clearly wanted to pace, but there was no room for that. Instead, he bent down, put his hands on the desk and scowled directly at Aidan, deliberately invading his space. Aidan refused to budge an inch, making sure that Porter knew the intimidation tactic wasn’t going to work.

  “I heard some mighty disturbing news from my wife over the weekend,” Porter said. “I’m hoping she got it all wrong.”

  “What’s that?” Aidan asked mildly.

  “She says you’re thinking of replacing our boy as the team’s quarterback.” His scowl deepened. “Now that can’t possibly be right, can it? Not with all the money I’ve donated over the years to help out this team. They’d still be playing in that old, rinky-dink stadium if I hadn’t written a sizable check.”

  Aidan wondered how Mick O’Brien might view that sizable check. It was his impression that Mick had paid for much of the construction out of his own pocket. He glanced at Rob, who merely shrugged.

  Aidan held Porter’s gaze. “What I told your wife, Mr. Hobbs, is that I’m in the process of evaluating all of the players right now to get a sense of what their talents might be and what positions they’re best suited to play. I haven’t made any decisions at all. My goal is to put the best possible team on the field in the fall.” He kept his gaze steady and unblinking, as he added, “I’m sure you feel as strongly about that as I do.”

  “I know I do,” Rob chimed in. “I think that’s a sentiment the whole town would agree with.”

  Some of the bluster seemed to drain out of Porter, but that didn’t stop him from declaring that Taylor was meant to be a quarterback. “I’ve been working with that boy myself since he could hold a football. You might not know this, but I put in some time on the field at the University of Maryland back in the day, so I know a good quarterback when I see one.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Aidan said, vowing to himself to look up exactly what sort of playing time Porter Hobbs had put in and in what position. “And you have the advantage of all those years of working with Taylor to see how talented he is. If he’s everything you say he is, I’m sure I’ll recognize that, too. During my days in the NFL, I played with some Pro Bowl athletes myself, so I do have some idea of what to look for.”

  He wasn’t proud of himself for the one-upsmanship, but he figured Porter had it coming.

  Rob stood up, clearly satisfied with where things stood. “Porter, I told you Aidan would reassure you. He’s being open-minded.”

  “I just want to be sure he gets the picture,” Po
rter said, clearly not ready to let it go. “Taylor belongs in that quarterback position. I won’t see it go to the likes of that Santos kid.”

  Up until that instant, Aidan had been fairly sympathetic to a father wanting to protect his son, but the hint of bias in Porter’s disdainful use of the boy’s Hispanic last name set his teeth on edge. Apparently Rob sensed that the situation was about to deteriorate, because he put a hand on Porter’s back and steered him rapidly toward the door.

  “Thanks for taking the time to see us,” the principal told Aidan.

  “Not a problem,” Aidan said, clenching his fists, but out of sight.

  Five minutes later the principal was back in his office. “I’m sorry,” Rob said. “I had to bring him in here and let him say his piece. He has an overinflated sense of his contribution to this football program, and he also has a big mouth. It’s not worth it to have him running around town stirring up trouble. Just know that whatever your decision is, I’m behind you.”

  “Understood,” Aidan said, not envying Rob for the position he’d been put in. “By the way, have you seen Hector Santos on the field?”

  Rob nodded. “He’s got raw talent, no question about it. Are you leaning in that direction?”

  “Too soon to say after just a couple of practices and drills,” Aidan said. “But if it’s best for the team, I won’t hesitate to make that call.”

  “You do what you need to do. I’ll deal with Porter.” He grinned. “So will Mick O’Brien, if he ever hears Porter bragging about funding that stadium. His check might have covered the snack bar. O’Brien money built the rest.”

  “I wondered about that,” Aidan admitted. “I’d sure hate to offend a major donor, when the team’s not even on the field yet.”

  “No worries about that. I think he’s been neutralized for now,” Rob said. “You handled the whole thing with amazing tact.”

  Aidan wasn’t entirely reassured. “Are there other people in Chesapeake Shores who’ll react the way he did, just because Hector’s Hispanic?”

  “I’d be surprised if there are,” Rob said candidly. “I’ve never seen any hint of prejudice in this community. Mick O’Brien might not hold any formal position in this town, but he’d never tolerate that kind of an attitude. Obviously he can’t control people’s private thoughts or even their actions, but I think people look up to him. They tend to follow his lead.”

  Aidan nodded. “I’ll have a chat with him next time I see him. I want to get his take on how much ruckus I’m likely to stir up if I make a change.”

  “Seems like a smart idea,” Rob said. “How are the other players getting along with Hector?”

  Aidan allowed himself a smile at last. “I noticed there was a little tension the first time we got on the field, but then he threw a couple of long spiral passes that were dead-on. They would have been easy touchdowns. Even Taylor Hobbs went up to congratulate him. And Henry’s taken him under his wing and been working with him on his English. He even offered to tutor him over the summer to keep his grades up.”

  Rob looked pleased. “Henry is a constant source of amazement to me. He has such a well-developed sense of kindness and maturity.”

  “Naming him team captain was an impulsive move on my part that first day,” Aidan replied, “but nothing that’s happened since has given me cause to regret it.”

  Rob grinned at him. “If all your instincts are on track like that, I’m predicting it’s going to be a good year.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Aidan cautioned. He wanted the community to be excited, but not so optimistic that disappointment was bound to follow.

  * * *

  Because Shanna always had a coffeepot going in her bookstore for her customers, Liz occasionally popped in there to grab a quick cup to go, especially when she didn’t have time to wait at Sally’s. Shanna’s coffee might be weak, but at least it had enough caffeine to keep her going for an hour or two.

  As she walked in late on Tuesday afternoon, she found Henry in the seating area with an unfamiliar boy with an olive complexion, dark hair and big brown eyes. Henry looked up, pushed his glasses back into place and grinned.

  “Hi, Ms. March. Are you looking for Mom?”

  “I’m actually looking for coffee. Any left?”

  “I guess so,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just keeping an eye on the store because she had to run around the corner to help Grandma Megan with some pictures she was trying to hang in the gallery.”

  “How was practice today?” Liz asked as she checked the fancy coffeemaker, then poured herself a cup.

  “Awesome,” Henry said excitedly. Then his expression turned apologetic. “I’m sorry. This is Hector Santos. Hector, Ms. March owns the pet store next door.”

  The boy greeted her shyly, his English heavily accented.

  “Hector, are you on the football team, too?”

  “Si. I mean, yes, ma’am.”

  “He’s going to be a superstar quarterback,” Henry declared as color stained Hector’s cheeks.

  “Not so,” he said. “Taylor is quarterback.”

  “Not for long,” Henry argued. “Wait till you see Hector pass, Ms. March. He’s awesome, and he can scramble out of the pocket like a pro. Taylor can’t do that.”

  Liz chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Are you sure you’re not his agent?” she teased. “You sure do know how to sell his skills.”

  Henry took her quip seriously, his expression immediately turning thoughtful. “Maybe that’s what I should be,” he said solemnly. “I’ll never be good enough to play professionally, but I recognize real talent just like Mr. Mitchell.”

  “Something to consider,” Liz said. She glanced at Hector. “Do you have a pet?”

  He shook his head. “I would like a dog, but my parents have said no.”

  Liz recognized the real longing in his voice. “Well, you have Henry bring you by my house one day. I have three dogs and a cat. They’d all love some extra attention.”

  Hector’s face lit up. “Is true? We could do that?”

  “Anytime I’m home,” she assured him. She put a dollar in the honor jar by the coffeemaker and held up her to-go cup. “Henry, tell your mom I said thanks. Study hard, you guys.”

  By the time she reached the door, she could already hear Hector chattering excitedly, half in English, half in Spanish, about the chance to play with her dogs. She had a hunch she’d have company before the week was out.

  * * *

  After so many long days in the store, Liz was in desperate need of some exercise. She also needed to do something to work off that caffeine she’d had late in the day just to keep her eyes open till closing.

  Since the dogs had been cooped up too much as well, she got all three of their leashes and headed to the dog park. As soon as she unsnapped the leashes, the dogs barked exuberantly and took off. Fortunately they were all socially well behaved and got along well with the other dogs who were there, giving her a chance to chat casually with the other owners.

  “Uh-oh,” Kitty Fawcett said, laughing. “There goes Archie!” A shouted warning to the man just leaving wasn’t in time to keep Archie from making his escape through the open gate.

  Liz sighed. “Can you keep an eye on the other two for a few minutes while I round Archie up?” she asked Kitty.

  “Sure,” the other woman said at once, then added with a chuckle, “But I do want to be home before dark.”

  Since dark was at least an hour away, Liz made a face at her attempt at humor, then took off running.

  As she raced out of the dog park and over Dogwood Hill shouting for Archie, she reminded herself that tonight had been about getting exercise not just for the dogs, but for her. Archie had definitely assured that she’d get more than she’d bargained for.

  As she emerged from the dogwood
trees, she spotted her traitorous speed demon of a dog sitting calmly at Aidan’s feet.

  Aidan shot her a grin that made her already-racing pulse scramble just a bit more. Apparently all those lectures she’d delivered to herself over the holiday weekend hadn’t had any effect at all. She was alive, all right!

  “I figured you’d be along soon,” he commented. He gestured to the dog, who was ecstatically wagging his tail. “Does he belong to anyone you know?”

  Liz bent over at the waist trying to catch her breath, but she still managed to feign a scowl for Aidan’s benefit. “Very funny. This is all your fault, you know.”

  “How so? I was nowhere near the dog park. I assume that’s where he was since he’s not dragging a leash behind him.” He glanced pointedly around. “No geese in sight, either.”

  “No, but he seems to have some sixth sense when you’re around. He obviously came straight to you.”

  “Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” Aidan teased. “If it weren’t for me, he could be down by the bay by now going for a swim.”

  “You’re right. I should be thankful for small favors,” Liz said as she clicked the leash into place on Archie’s collar. The dog regarded her with what she could only interpret as disgust. Making an impulsive decision, she handed the leash to Aidan. “Here. He’s all yours.”

  She turned around, allowing herself a small smile as she deliberately walked away.

  After a moment of stunned silence, Aidan and Archie caught up with her.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Aidan said. “I’ve told you before there’s no way I can have a dog.”

  “You already have a dog,” she said. “He may be staying with me, but he’s adopted you. I’ll give you a bill for room and board.”

  Panic seemed to flit across Aidan’s face, and she sensed it had nothing to do with being charged for Archie’s care.

  “Liz, be reasonable. It’s a tiny one-bedroom apartment, barely bigger than a studio, when you get right down to it.”

  “And I have a two-bedroom house with two other dogs and a cat. What’s your point?”

 

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