by Susan Schild
Linny Lou—Gave your name to a client who asked for management training we don’t offer any more. Annalise still a slithering manipulator, but Big Walt catching on. Karma, baby. Hey, hey. Jarod.
She smiled at the idea of Annalise being outed as a wench, and, meanly, hoped Walt felt both foolish at his bad judgment in believing in the girl, and regretful about letting Linny go. As she watched the long train roll by, she felt a buzz of anxiety. Jarod’s vote of confidence warmed her, but she needed to get cracking with designing programs and materials in case she landed even more training work.
The next morning, she dressed to take Roy back to the vet for the day. Glancing in the mirror and chided herself, knowing why she’d gussied herself up, and slipped on the pretty floral skirt she’d bought at the thrift store for a dollar. The side seam was slightly frayed, but you’d hardly see it unless you looked for it. She secretly hoped to run into Jack. Maybe she could act normal around him.
As she turned onto Red Oak Road, she saw two joggers bound toward her and veer off down a side road. She drew in her breath sharply, realizing the man was Jack Avery and his pony-tailed partner with the sculpted calves and the effortless stride was the nymphet she’d seen him with downtown.
In a plaintive tone, she said to the puppy. “Roy, what is it with these guys and the much younger women? Don’t you think it’s kind of pathetic?”
Roy sighed heavily.
As she pulled into the vet clinic, her breathing was shallow. Channeling Indigo, she took several deep cleansing breaths. She needed to get a grip. How could she feel possessive of a man with whom she’d never even had a date? It was ridiculous.
When Linny picked Roy up that evening, the puppy looked bright-eyed, and gave her face a tongue bath as she gathered him in her arms.
Ruthie called, “Bring him in tomorrow morning for one last day with us. If his numbers look good, Dr. Jack will probably let you take him home in the afternoon.”
As soon as she and the puppy walked in the door to the trailer, the phone rang, and she saw Mary Catherine’s number. Kicking off her shoes, she lounged on the couch. “I’ve missed you! Where have you been? I’ve called and texted and written . . .”
Her friend sounded harried. “Work is crazy busy, but the big news is that Dare was in an accident.”
Linny gasped. “No! Is he okay? What happened?”
She sighed. “He’s bruised up, but basically fine. I’ll fill you in.” Her voice brightened. “Will you walk with me before work tomorrow? I can come out at 6:15 and we can power walk and catch up.”
“You’re on.” Linny exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. She loved Dare, and felt a knee-weakening flood of relief that he’d not been hurt more seriously.
“Hold your rear end cheeks together when you walk,” Mary Catherine advised the next morning as they puffed down the driveway. “Gives you buttocks you could bounce a quarter off of.”
“You read that in a tabloid, right?” Linny grinned, trying to squeeze as she walked. “So fill me in. What’s happened to Dare?”
“He spent the night on a friend’s couch after a late-night party with that crowd from the restaurant where he works. He’d been drinking.” Mary Catherine’s mouth looked like she’d bit a lemon.
“Oh, no.” Linny’s heart sank. Mary Catherine and Mike felt so strongly about underage drinking, and tried to hammer that home with Dare. “But not driving if he’d been drinking was a good decision.”
“He did drink and drive though—on his bike.” Mary Catherine shook her head, looking disgusted. “He woke up real early, still under the influence, and decided to pedal on home. According to Dare”—she shot Linny a skeptical look—“a car almost hit him, and he had to careen down an embankment to avoid getting hit. We just picked him up from the hospital yesterday afternoon.”
She gasped. “No! He had to go to the hospital?”
“He’s just banged up. He’s got two black eyes, cuts and bruises, and he knocked out two teeth.”
“Oh, boy.” Linny shook her head sympathetically. “Was he wearing his helmet?”
“He was. Backward.” She cracked a weary smile. “He’s going to drive us crazy.”
Sighing, Linny shivered as she thought about how much worse it could have been. “We both thought we were immortal at that age though, didn’t we?”
“I know.” Her friend nodded grudgingly. “But we’re not letting him off the hook. He’s going to spend the rest of the summer with us, and Mike’s still so mad he’s hardly speaking to him.”
“Uh-oh.” Linny winced, remembering Dare’s short-lived joy ride in the truck on the eighteenth hole of the Raleigh Ridge golf course, the goat in the narthex of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, and Dare’s forgetting to put the drain plug back in and sinking Mike’s two-week-old bass boat. Mary Catherine and Mike always made him pay for or work off every penny of damage he caused, and their tough parenting style had helped grow Dare into a basically responsible, kind, young man. He was the Prince of the Near Misses, but this was his first bout with trouble involving alcohol, and Linny knew how upsetting that was for her friend, given her mother’s unquenchable thirst.
“He’s going to pay us back for the dental work he needs, and he’s not going back to the party hearty restaurant. We want to put him to work, but Mike took care of every project around our house when he was unemployed.” She cocked her head. “Do you have any hard labor that needs to be done, preferably in the hot sun? Any tobacco to be picked? Any asphalt to be laid?”
“Ah, I see. Atonement. A reminder of the importance of good teeth and a college education.” Linny bobbed her head and thought about the moldering pile of carpeting and paneling that still sat in her driveway. “I’ve got a few projects that might just fit that bill.”
“Good.” Mary Catherine nodded decisively. “I’ll have him call you.”
“How’s work?” Linny rubbed the stitch in her side, and slowed her pace.
“Let’s see.” Mary Catherine tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “The usual—husbands finding younger, perkier replacement brides, people connecting with old flames online, wives leaving husbands for married co-workers, and custody battles that have nothing to do with the best interest of the children. Lately, couples are divorcing because they married in the years of high cotton, and now have to live on a budget.” She shook her head ruefully. “They liked the ‘for better’ part but not the ‘for worse.’ ”
Linny blew out a sigh. “Tell me again why you’re not a cynic about marriage?”
Looking serious, Mary Catherine said, “Every day I get reminded to put my shoulder into my marriage.” She glanced over at Linny. “I wouldn’t wish it on anybody, but Mike’s getting laid off made us stronger. We made it through some tough days.” Pausing, she looked out over the fields. “And Mike sees my best self and my crazy lady self, and still seems to love me. Go figure.”
“You love being married to Mike,” Linny said, nodding thoughtfully. “I felt that way about being married to Andy.” She pushed down a surge of sadness.
“I know, girl.” Mary Catherine touched her arm, and, for a moment, the only sounds were the soft thuds of their sneakers hitting dirt, and the caws of crows. She cocked her head. “What’s new? Give me the skinny.”
As they strode down another dirt road that led them past fields of bushy soybeans, Linny recapped most of her news, including the promising conversation with Miriam and the possible job in Austin.
“Holy cow.” Mary Catherine gave a low whistle. “Great about Kate, thank goodness about Roy, and bummer about the hunka-hunka vet. Very cool about not getting the project with the Sales and Marketing group but landing a better one.” She slowed her pace and glanced over, looking worried. “But you can’t take a job in Austin. You can’t move away.”
Touched at the alarm she saw on her friend’s face, Linny patted her shoulder. “It’s not even officially an offer.” Pausing, she gave her friend a sidelong glance. “But if
it does materialize, I may need to seriously consider it.” She raised one shoulder. “Working on the Sweet Dreams List has given me some ideas, though.” Pulling a folded paper from her pocket, she asked, “Can I read you what I’ve got so far? Some of these ideas are half-baked, and I’m not sure how to go about . . .” She hesitated.
“Spill.” Her friend waved a hand impatiently. “The suspense is killing me.”
Linny slowed her pace, read the list, and summed it up. “So, I’d be working for myself, and getting work on a project-by-project basis. I’ll take jobs I can get in corporations for now, but I want to move toward specializing in working with small business owners.” In a voice that had gone up an octave, she added a disclaimer. “I have no clue how to start a business or how to get more clients, but you asked me to think about what I care about, so that’s what I’m doing.”
“Good.” Mary Catherine nodded vigorously. “Why small business owners?”
“I like their independence, and how they do things their own way. I like how they make their dreams real.” She relayed the problems she’d seen at Earth and Sea, and at Ronnie’s shop. “But the owners need management training, and the employees need to be trained to act more pleasant, and treat customers better.”
Her friend nodded gravely. “I like your idea, and I’ll bet you can make it work.”
Linny gave her friend a tentative smile. As they made a U-turn and strode back to the house, she let out her breath. Everybody seemed to have confidence in her—except maybe Linny.
CHAPTER 10
Fix Up
At nine fifteen Monday morning, Linny fumed as she glanced out the window yet another time, craning her neck for Dare, who’d promised to be at her house to begin work by eight. She’d already composed an email she wanted to send to colleagues, made a shopping list for a run to Lowe’s, and—after another heart-attack-inducing, spider-in-the-shower episode—set up an appointment with Sam, the Bug Man, an exterminator Jerry had recommended.
At her laptop, she examined each word of the note. Chewing on a pen, she wondered if she’d struck the right tone with her careful wording. Did she sound desperate, overly cocky, too tentative? Imagining she was Jared, Aaron, or Miriam, she re-read it and nodded in satisfaction. Drawing in a breath, she patted the Lucky Duck, imagined herself jitterbugging toward joy with the jackal goddess, and pushed the Send button.
At the sound of dully thudding hip-hop, Roy scrambled to the front door, stood sentry, and barked madly. Linny glanced at the clock, and felt a flash of irritation. Dare wasn’t off to a good start. People who were late annoyed her, and she was so sick of the piles of junk in the yard. She wanted them gone. Trying to put on a neutral expression, she stepped out on the porch and waved as Dare rolled up the driveway in his Dad’s battered work truck.
Wearing faded khaki shorts, black Converse sneakers with no laces, wraparound shades, and a red bandana tied round his head pirate-style, Dare gave her a cool nod and he stepped down from the truck. With his high cheekbones, full lips, and sinewy body he must surely be fluttering co-eds’ hearts. Good Lord. When had Dare turned into such a hunk? Linny blinked, willing herself to think maternal thoughts.
Taking a leisurely last pull of a frozen coffee drink, he glanced at his phone, and then at her, his expression sullen.
“Hey, Dare.” Linny walked over to him and, trying to keep her tone mild, added, “I was looking for you at eight.”
“Real long line at Starbucks,” he drawled, lifting his shades to his head and slipping his phone into his pocket.
Wincing inwardly as she took in his two black eyes, she shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”
“What?” he said, skeptically.
“Supposed to be 102 today, 108 with the heat index. Jerry and his guys start at six AM these days to beat the heat, but you do the job however you think is best.”
He cocked his head. “I thought I was helping you, not doing it for you.”
“Oh, no.” She laughed. “That’s why I’m paying you the big bucks.”
He grumbled under his breath, “Right. Minimum wage is big bucks.”
After giving him instructions, she gave a little wave and went back inside. From behind a curtain, she watched him shoot a sour look in the direction of the trailer, send a few texts and slowly finish his drink. Sighing, she wondered when the tenderhearted young boy—the one who’d thought a sleepover on her and Andy’s screened back porch was a Swiss Family Robinson type adventure—turned into this sulky young man? Ever since he turned fourteen, Mary Catherine had complained about his back talk and general know-it-all attitude, but Dare had always been polite around her. Now she’d caught a glimpse of the post-adolescent attitude, Linny felt a pang of sympathy for Mary Catherine and Mike. She sat at her desk, sipping coffee and mulling it over. To her, a child meant a cute, cuddly baby smelling of talcum powder, not a mulish nineteen-year-old. She shook her head, momentarily grateful at having missed parenthood. Unable to resist, she peeked out the window again.
The truck was again booming music as Dare backed it over to the pile and ambled back to load it. Pausing, he fished a phone from his pocket, sent a message, and laughed as he read the reply. With his non-phone hand, he picked up a small scrap of carpet with his fingertips, wrinkled his nose and gave it an ineffectual little toss, missing the truck bed. Linny rolled her eyes. Wouldn’t want to get those lily-white hands dirty.
Twenty minutes later, Linny saw that Dare was arranging his fourth piece of carpet as if it was a mosaic piece that needed to be perfectly positioned. She sighed. At this rate, the debris would decompose before he loaded it into the truck, but she realized she had no leverage. She could use his help, but if she tried to chastise him, he’d move even slower—if that was even possible—or stalk off the job.
The phone dinged, and Mary Catherine’s text read, How’s he doing?
Linny tapped out, Late, sullen, texting, and if he moved any slower, would be going backward.
Mary Catherine’s response was immediate. I’ll stop by to visit in few minutes.
Grinning, Linny put down her phone, tickled at the prospect of watching Mary Catherine jerk Dare’s tail in a knot. When her friend was riled up, she was a force of nature. Looking for an excuse to hear every word, Linny fished in the closet for a pair of leather work gloves, and walked to the yard. Feigning nonchalance, she handed them to Dare. “You’re getting there,” she said.
He looked at her suspiciously and, apparently satisfied that she was not being sarcastic, grudgingly accepted the gloves.
As Linny walked back to the trailer, she heard a car and spotted Mary Catherine’s blue crossover coming up the driveway at such a fast clip that it kicked up clouds of dust. Giving her friend a wave, she busied herself pretending to deadhead a plant on the porch. She didn’t want to miss this.
Looking like a page from the Talbots catalogue in her linen shift and pearls, Mary Catherine stalked over to her son. The disgusted look fell from Dare’s face, and was replaced by one of pure fear. Her ears straining, Linny got busy with her faux plant care.
Her friend’s voice was pleasant, but she enunciated each word slowly and clearly. “Michael Dare, you listen to me. You got yourself into a mess, and you will do whatever it takes to redeem yourself. I expect you to buckle down and apply yourself. If I hear you won’t, I’m going to call that nice police officer that we talked into not citing you for underage drinking or giving you a DUI, and ask that he reconsider. Your daddy and I will cease and desist on your tuition bill, and you can figure out how to pay for college all by your smart self. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”
“Yeah,” the young man mumbled.
She said sweetly, “I beg your pardon?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was strong and clear.
From the corner of her eye, Linny watched her pat her son on the arm, and steam back to her car.
Giving him a few moments to nurse his wounds, Linny went in and fixed him a tall glass of ice water. She
brought it out and wordlessly handed it to him.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took long, thirsty gulps.
When he’d finished, she peered at him. “Let me see your teeth.”
He looked chagrinned, but bared his teeth in a smile.
An incisor and the tooth beside it were gone, and with his shiners, he looked like he’d gone one round too long with a heavy hitter. “Good gracious.”
He reddened and shook his head. “Dude, it was a long trip down that hill.”
Linny’s lip twitched. No one had ever called her Dude before. “I imagine it was.”
He drained the glass.
Linny took it from him. “Tell you what. You get two loads to the dump by noon, and I’ll buy you lunch. Anywhere you want, as much as you want to eat.”
“Deal.” He flushed. “I mean, yes ma’am.”
As she walked back to the trailer, she turned and called to him, “After lunch, I need your opinion on the walls. Have you ever hung sheetrock?”
His head bobbed. “Oh, yeah. Worked for Jerry four weeks one summer.”
She tried to hide her grin at his cockiness. “Four whole weeks, huh?”
“Yup,” he assured her.
Linny smiled as Calico Jack pulled on gloves, stood up straighter, and approached the pile with new vigor.
When she went back into the trailer, Linny scrolled though the book titles she’d downloaded on her Kindle: How to Start Your Own Business, Designing Dynamic Training Courses, and Building Customer Service Skills: Winning Business by Pleasing Customers. The online visit to the Worth County library had proved fruitful. Over the weekend, she’d read until her head swam. She shook her head, amazed. For the first time, she felt a sliver of confidence that starting her own business might work.
Roy snoozed at her feet, resting his head on her toes. Reaching down, she scratched the hard to get spot down by his tail, and he sighed in pleasure. Her heart filled with love. She was so happy to have him home and healthy. Jack Avery came to mind, and she hurriedly snapped her thought-banishing rubber band.
