by Susan Schild
Kate smiled. “I thought you would.”
When the glass doors whooshed open, Linny breathed in the smell of fresh-baked bread, and heard Celtic fusion music playing softly. “Nice,” she murmured.
Kate wheeled her shopping cart over hardwood floors, with Linny tagging along.
Inhaling the smoky aroma of freshly brewed coffee, Linny noticed a coffee bar tucked beside the bakery. Furnished with overstuffed red velvet sofas and arm chairs, the area was inviting. She paused for a moment, and watched as baristas wove around each other, whipping up drinks to customers. Gracious. Quite a business they had going here. She had to quick-step to catch up with Kate.
Her sister examined a jar of tomato puree. “This place has the best quality seafood, meat, and specialty produce in town. Everything is fresh, and most of it is local.” Linny’s eyes widened as she took in the clerks at the checkout area. Under her breath, she asked Kate, “Why are those two male clerks wearing skirts?”
“Because it’s hot out. Wish I’d worn a skirt,” Kate said, pulling the V-neck of her shirt away from her chest and flapping it for circulation.
“Why do they almost all have arm sleeve tattoos?” Linny persisted. She never saw that at her old job, but she never saw much of peoples’ arms at Kipling.
“They’re young, girl. Remember, we were young once.” Kate’s tone was patient. “Here, Miss Grump.” She tore off the bottom third of her grocery list and handed it to Linny. “I’ll meet you at the checkout in ten minutes.”
“Okay, okay. Sheesh.” Linny began her journey up and down the aisles, searching for items on her list while surreptitiously watching the other shoppers. A casually dressed but polished man who looked like a business type eyed the Reuben and fries special at the deli while dutifully making his salad at the salad bar. A young man in a slouchy beanie and sports sandals sipped his tall coffee while glancing at his phone. Maybe he owned a microbrewery with a clever name or a bicycle shop.
A beautiful sloe-eyed woman with toned arms and a messy chignon wore a leotard top and a flowing batik skirt while she examined vitamin supplements. Linny should buy whatever she was buying. A pretty older women wearing taupe linen and chunky stone jewelry rearranged her vibrantly hued scarf while she chose pastries that had just come out of the oven. A lushly beautiful and un-made-up young mother studied the label on a jar like it was a final exam while her toddler burbled in the child seat in front of her. This was a pretty looking crowd and they all seemed to be trying to take care of themselves. Linny vowed to swear off the Cheetos and start eating better.
“Linny?” A redhead wearing a denim dress touched her arm and beamed at her. “Kate’s sister and Margaret’s new neighbor, right?”
Linny grinned delightedly. “Lil! How are you?”
“Frazzled.” The owner’s mop of curls bounced when she shook her head. “One of my future ex-baristas didn’t show up this morning.” Lil rolled her eyes. “My new pastry chef is baking and crying. They must not have told her about moving fast at the Culinary Institute.”
“It’s so busy in here,” Linny said admiringly as she glanced around.
Lil held up crossed fingers. “We’re grateful for that every day.” She sighed. “I love the store, I love the customers, but supervising these employees is driving me nuts.”
Linny gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand.”
“Right. You’re in Human Resources.” Lil nodded, but her eyes narrowed as she saw the line snake into the coffee shop. “I need to go. So good to see you.” She bustled off.
As Kate tooled homeward, Linny rustled in the grocery bag until she found the receipt. “Do you realize you just spent ninety-eight dollars, and the checkout clerk didn’t even thank you? She barely looked at you.”
Her sister glanced at her, looking thoughtful. “The clerks here are all like that.”
She tsked. It irked her. “Is it so hard for people to just be nice? Civility is going to H-E-double-L in a hand basket. And you keep going back because . . .”
“I mostly shop at Grocery World, I just pick up special things there,” Kate clarified. “But I go to Earth and Sea because their food is so amazing and, generally, it’s a pleasant place to shop.”
Linny sighed theatrically. “The whole world needs customer service training. More employees need to be taught to say, ‘please,’ ‘thank you,’ and ‘we appreciate your business.’ ” Kate had heard this particular gripe many times before, so she spared her a rerun. “Your husband was a prince to help me with my car. How’s he doing?”
Her sister paused a beat before answering. “He’s getting headaches and is tired all the time. I made him go in for a physical last week, and they ran some tests.”
Burly, rock-solid Jerry seemed indestructible to her. She felt a crawl of anxiety in her gut. The thought of him weakened in any way shook her. “What did they find?”
Kate’s voice grew reedy. “The doctor said he’s at high risk for developing diabetes. He can’t do much about his family history, but I pack him healthy lunches, and find fast food burger wrappers under the front seat of the truck.” She shook her head in exasperation. “He’ll get sick if he keeps it up.”
“That’s scary,” Linny said softly.
“He’s got to make lifestyle changes,” Kate said tightly. “He and I are going to have a little talk about what those changes might be.”
Hoo, boy. Linny gave her sister a sidelong glance, knowing the grit under that pixie exterior. This was a woman who could quell a room full of rowdy, hormone-addled eighth graders with an arch of a brow. In those talks with Jerry, her money was on Kate.
On Sunday afternoon, Linny glanced around as she placed water glasses at each place setting. She loved the high ceilings and wood details of Kate and Jerry’s 1940s bungalow. Decorated with Kate’s shabby chic, thriftshop flair, the small house was charming.
It was getting down to the wire, only a half hour away from the arrival of the guest of honor. As a musical backdrop for their preparation, Kate tuned the radio to a Contemporary French station. Linny shimmied along to the beat, imagining herself striding confidently down the Champs-Elysées, Frenchmen’s longing eyes following her in her red beret. She carried a cloth shopping bag full of baguettes and flowers that perfectly matched her lipstick.
Ducking around the balloons they’d tied to each chair, Linny slid napkins in place. Cocking her head, she studied her sister. All afternoon, while acting as Kate’s sous-chef, she’d picked up on her sister’s particularly effervescent good cheer. The girl just bubbled. Her face was lovely, as always, but there was a luminous quality to it today. Linny glanced again at Kate as she smoothed the last napkin in place.
Kate stood with hands on hips, surveyed the dining room, and smiled.
Linny inhaled deeply, smelling a mouthwatering combination she knew was cinnamon, butter and nutmeg—her sister’s famous carrot cake. “That smells divine.”
Kate beckoned her back to the kitchen. “Here are my two secrets.” She held up two Pillsbury cans, and grinned as she slicked on a thick coating of cream cheese frosting. “Store bought frosting tastes better than any I could make, and I always pile on much more than the recipe calls for.” Scraping out one can, she added half of the second. “Jerry better enjoy this cake while he can. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s starting his new healthier eating regime this week.”
“Ah,” Linny said, reaching down to pat Roy, who was having a ball, tagging along behind his dog cousins, Duke and Delilah.
“Maybe you should open the window and turn on the ceiling fan; get some of this good smell out of here so he won’t be suspicious,” Kate suggested.
Linny nodded in agreement, and switched on the fan. As she pried open the kitchen windows, she noticed a figure clutching a plastic bag, tip-toeing across the yard toward the back porch. It was her mother, and she wore a trench coat, a floppy hat, and large, bug-like dark glasses. As she stepped in the kitchen door, her mother glanced over her shoulder, exhaled,
and gave them each a hug. “Thank goodness I made it here before the birthday boy.” She slipped out of her trench coat. “I didn’t want Jerry to spot me, so I parked the car down the block and wore inconspicuous clothes.”
Kate caught her sister’s eye, and winked. “Good thinking, Mama.”
Dottie gave Linny an appraising once over. “Don’t you look pretty. Looks like you’ve lost weight. Those Slim-Fasts really work.” She patted her arm encouragingly.
Linny sighed. “Thanks, Mama.”
Kate just shook her head. Her cell rang, and she held up a finger to shush them before she picked up. “Hey, there.” She nodded as she listened. “Okay, see you in a few.” Ending the call, she clapped her hands excitedly, and pushed Linny and Dottie into the bedroom. “I’ll meet him at the door. When you hear him, jump on out.”
A few moments later, Linny and her mother heard Jerry’s voice, and scurried into the living room, showering him with confetti, and shouting, “Surprise! Surprise!”
Jerry broke into a smile. Kate led him to the dining room, and he glanced at the balloons and streamers. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Y’all shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”
Linny grinned as she watched Kate beam at his response.
After ensconcing Jerry at the head of the table, the three women ferried food from the kitchen to the dining room. Linny paused to admire the dishes they’d artfully arranged on the table—pepper-encrusted filet of beef, green beans with almonds, steaming sweet potatoes, and deep red slices of German Johnson tomatoes.
The diners tucked into their meals. Linny glanced around the table. If the sighs of rhapsody about the food were any indicators, supper was a success.
A muffled crash came from the kitchen, and Linny hopped up to investigate. A tipped over chair lay on the floor beside the counter where the birthday cake sat, and the three dogs scurried around, looking furtive. Linny gasped. A jagged hunk was missing from the side of the birthday cake. The second can of icing lay on the floor, empty. Roy’s tail was between his legs, and he had blobs of white icing on his brow and muzzle. Duke and Delilah’s faces were clean. Linny tossed the empty icing can in the trash and scowled at Roy. “You hoodlum.”
Kate stepped into the kitchen, sized up the situation, and burst out laughing. “I hope no one gets sick. The cake must be good. We’ll cut around the bites.”
Linny breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for her sister’s equanimity.
After an enthusiastic but wobbly rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Linny watched Jerry blow out the candles and Kate cut and serve the cake. After eight years of marriage, he still looked at her like he’d found a jewel, and she still twinkled at him. Linny sighed as she chewed the moist cake. “All right, you two lovebirds, stop looking so sappy at each other. Let’s get going with the gifts.”
Grinning, Kate handed Jerry his packages.
As he tore open the paper on his first gift, he examined the yellow thrift store pants and threw back his head in laughter. He laughed even harder as he unwrapped the rest of his new wardrobe. He plunked the coonskin cap on his head.
Linny grinned.
“This is from Mama.” Kate handed him another gift.
Tearing open the wrapping, he examined a glossy book called, ‘Civil War Sites of North Carolina.’ A big Civil War buff, Jerry smiled.
“Thanks, Dottie. Looks great.” Next, he slit open an envelope, and pulled out a photo of a cabin. He gave Kate a questioning look.
Her sister explained, “I did some bookkeeping for Scott Davis in exchange for a weekend at their place at Topsail Beach. I thought we could use a getaway.”
Jerry looked proud. “Smart girl.”
As Kate handed him one last gift, her hands shook and she gazed at him steadily.
He pulled off the wrapping paper and held up a baby monitor. For a moment, he looked confused, then comprehension slowly dawned. He stood, picked his wife off the ground, and swept her up in a fervent embrace. “Oh, sweetheart.”
The tears that coursed down Kate’s face turned into sobs, as Jerry kissed her head and held her tighter. “I just found out Friday afternoon,” she murmured. Her sister’s sobs subsided into watery hiccoughs. “I just wasn’t feeling good, and went to see Dr. Grace. When she suggested a pregnancy test, I was shocked. I’d given up.” Kate dried her eyes with the napkin. “The test was positive.” She leaned into Jerry.
Linny swiped at her tears, and she got up and hugged the couple. She felt her mother’s arms on top of hers, and the four stayed in a sniffling group hug for several moments. Thank goodness. What an amazing gift for her sister and Jerry. Her heart swelled with love, but she felt lonesome, left behind. She felt the heat of pure envy, and reddened, ashamed for not being able to simply be glad for two of the people she loved most in the world.
Kate caught her eye and said casually, “Come help me put food up.”
She nodded mutely, and followed her sister into the kitchen.
“You okay?” Kate tilted her head.
Linny leaned against the sink, and flushed guiltily. “I’m happy for you, Kate, I really am . . .”
“I know you are.” Her sister gave her a sweet smile.
Linny swallowed around the lump in her throat. “What if I’ve already gotten my whole life ration of happy moments?”
“I don’t think you have, sweets.” Kate’s gaze was steady. “I really don’t.”
“I’m ninety percent happy for you, and only ten percent wallowing in self-pity.”
Her sister cracked a grin. “I appreciate you doing the percentages, sweets.” She reached over to touch her arm. “And I understand. You’re allowed, Linny.”
Linny gave her a tremulous smile.
Back home, the trailer seemed cold and empty, a stark contrast to Kate’s warm nest. She was making progress, but her life was still hard. Pouring herself a large glass of a boxed wine, she slumped on the sofa, mulled over Kate’s news, and stuck a metaphorical finger in the sore places to try to figure out her feelings. She wasn’t desperate for her own baby, she realized. She didn’t think she could just adopt, go to a sperm bank, or endure the invasive procedures Kate and Jerry had undergone—certainly not as a single mother. Raking her fingers through her hair, she exhaled. Emotionally and financially, she couldn’t afford a baby now anyhow. She just wanted family—whether that meant creating the homey and familiar routines with a husband, helping raise a man’s children, getting a pack of dogs, or becoming the best aunt in the world with her new niece or nephew. Knocking twice on the wooden end table, she sent up a quick prayer for Kate’s safe pregnancy.
At her laptop, she checked email. Nothing interesting. As she reached to shut the computer down, an ad flashed on the home page. MEET EXCITING LOCAL SINGLES! Impulsively, she clicked.
She peered more closely at the screen, and grimaced. “Successful Executive” was a “48 year-old man looking for beautiful woman between 21 and 28 years of age for . . .” Linny sighed heavily and clicked on. Next. “The Total Package” described himself as, “Embarrassingly blessed—handsome, six pack abs, MBA from Wharton, cultured. Low tolerance for boring women. Basically, I’m a WINNER, and you should be a WINNER, too. I’m . . .” Linny clicked, disgusted. Here was another winner. “Mile High Club?” wrote, “Successful entrepreneur who pilots his own small plane interested in a sexy co-pilot for naughty . . .”
“Give me a break,” Linny groused, but was strangely compelled to look at even more profiles. “Complete Me” posted a photo of himself shirtless, wearing what he probably thought was a brooding, soulful look, but Linny thought he looked confused. He had big breasts for a man, too. She needed to spray her eyes with Lysol.
But “Family Man” wrote, “Honest, grounded, nice guy looking for partner for the second and best parts of our lives.” Hmm. He sounded normal. “Looking for My Best Friend” wrote, “Decent, low key, outdoorsy guy looking for my better half.”
Okay. Not all these guys were bad.
Kate met Jerry when she hired him to repair her house after that pine tree fell through her roof during Hurricane Jamal. Stranger things could happen than meeting a nice man online. If she wanted her own family, she needed to take a few risks. But she felt the old familiar doubts creep back. She’d taken a risk on Buck, and look how that had turned out. Sighing, she shut down her laptop. She’d think about it tomorrow. Draining her glass, she headed for bed.
CHAPTER 9
Dog Days
The next morning, Linny stirred and Roy groaned. Though only half-awake, Linny registered that the puppy wasn’t doing his usual morning routine—leaping off the bed and doing his let’s-get-this-day-started dance. Sitting up, she eyed him worriedly, but he looked fine. Was he just having a lazy morning? She rubbed his belly and he groaned again, lumbered off the bed, and vomited.
Alarmed, Linny cleaned up the mess and then had to coax him to go outside to go to the bathroom. The flutter of worry in her stomach grew. A few minutes later, Linny watched him anxiously as he only sniffed his breakfast, plodded heavily back to her room, vomited again, and clambered onto the bed. The stomach flutter was now gnawing anxiety. Something wasn’t right. As she lay down beside him on the bed and stroked him carefully, he moaned softly and gazed at her with limpid brown eyes. Softly scratching his head, a wave of protectiveness and love washed over her. He meant so much to her, and she loved every one of his mannerisms—the way he chased his tail, hogged her bed, and marched across the yard like a very short General Patton. He was so blissfully happy to see her when she came home after being away. She drew a shuddering sigh. If anything happened to him, she didn’t know what she’d do.
As soon as Red Oak Animal Hospital opened, she was on the phone. She managed to keep her voice steady, but her hands shook. “I need to bring my puppy in as soon as I can.”
By the time they made it to the vet’s, Roy looked even more wilted. Linny checked in at the desk, rubbing the puppy’s back as he rested dispiritedly on her shoulder.
