Seventh Heaven

by Masters, Cate

  Seventh Heaven

  by

  Cate Masters

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Cate Masters on Smashwords

  Seventh Heaven

  Copyright © 2011 by Cate Masters

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  View more books by Cate Masters at

  http://catemasters.blogspot.com

  or select online book retailers.

  For Gary, my hometown sweetheart for more than thirty years.

  Special thanks to The Wild Rose Press, which first published this ebook.

  Previous reviews:

  Recommended Read: 5 angels from Fallen Angel Reviews

  http://fallenangelreviews.com/2009/June/kimber-seventhheaven.htm

  Seventh Heaven is a wonderful story about overcoming obstacles. Lilah has to overcome her shyness and fear of rejection to pursue the love of her life. James has even bigger issues to overcome before, during, and after the war. This is a touching, three hanky read. Seventh Heaven is an uplifting romance set in a turbulent, unique time period. I did not want it to end.

  4 books, LASR

  http://longandshortreviews.blogspot.com/2009/05/seventh-heaven-by-cate-masters.html

  Cate Masters is a gifted writer who wrote this book with talent and marvelous imagery. I could almost see, taste, hear and touch what was occurring in "Seventh Heaven." If you are looking for a book with a wonderful plot that is very well written as well as being entertaining, "Seventh Heaven" is the book for you. I look forward to reading more of Ms. Masters' work.

  Memorable Good Rating, WDRF Reviews

  Cate Masters blows me away with this spicy-sweet story. Lilah and Val are our very complimenting female roles, while the handsome bartender James takes up out male lead. Lilah and Val seem like the kind of friends that can argue and still laugh about it later. They are both very relatable. Lilah is our main character but seems so real you feel like you have known her for ages. As James tries to cut off ties with the people around him Lilah finds her way into his heart. This is a read that will leave you on the edge of your seat. The deep and powerful setting of this story had me wiping away tears while cheering James on. Cate has a great story on her hands with this.

  Read more reviews, view the trailer and more at http://catemasters.blogspot.com/2007/12/seventh-heaven-vintage-sixties-short.html

  * * * * *

  Seventh Heaven

  Lilah carried her morning tea down the flight of stairs from her apartment into The New Hope Record and Crafts Shop. The whir of the pottery wheel drew her through the records and posters section to the back of the store, where she opened the door marked Employees Only. The sign always brought a smile. No employees here, only two owners.

  In the workshop, Val bent over the wheel, shaping the spinning clay into a tall vase. She looked up and smiled, smudges on her denim overalls. “Morning.”

  Lilah leaned against the door. “You’re busy.”

  Val flipped her long blond ponytail behind her. “Gotta make hay while the sun shines, my dad always said.”

  Sunlight streamed across the shelves, a bright rainbow of pottery and candles. “It’s shining, all right. I’m going to open up.” After shutting the workroom door, Lilah strolled past the table holding bins of albums. Someone left the Iron Butterfly album with the Beatles and Beach Boys, so she moved it behind Herman’s Hermits, in front of Jefferson Airplane. Satisfied, she straightened the rest.

  Oversized plastic, neon-yellow smiley faces and peace symbols hung from the ceiling and swayed in the breeze she created as she walked underneath them, crossing into the front room. Val’s slightly misshapen candles and pottery lined the front window shelves.

  Lilah unlocked the front door and flipped the window sign to Open. Last night’s rain left a sheen on Bridge Street, but the morning sun cast a glow across the white clouds rolling high over the Delaware River.

  Humming, she set her cup on the counter by the cash register. The paned side windows opposite her offered a glimpse of the sparkling river. She fingered the basket of round buttons with sayings such as Hippy Power and Peace. The purple Feelin’ Groovy pin fit her mood, so she attached it to her T-shirt.

  It would likely be awhile before any customers came in, providing an opportunity to make more merchandise. For inspiration, she riffled through the poster rack filled with images of puppies and flowers, Beatles, Donovan and Hendrix. The vivid colors of a Peter Max image--a smiling man leaping over neon clouds--jumped off the glossy page. Perfect.

  She sat on the stool behind the counter, pulled out her bead box and selected bright yellow, fuchsia and lapis-blue glass beads. She worked them onto a leather string until the result was sheer happiness, a necklace to bring a smile to the face of the most adamant women’s libber, or at least a begrudging grin.

  More importantly, to make them want to buy it.

  Val shuffled in, her arms filled with a wide crock. “Finished another necklace?”

  Lilah picked up her needle-nose pliers to add a clasp. “Yep. Almost ready for some unsuspecting woman to fall in love with.”

  Val sometimes criticized her jewelry as too feminine, too yielding, as if Lilah conspired with men who liked their women to dress in frilly Renaissance shirts and long, flowing skirts. But the shop had gained a steady following among locals, and several notable newspaper write-ups. The weekend tourists filled the store from April through October. Lilah and Val were living proof that women could succeed in the world on their own terms, accountable to no man--except, of course, the tax man.

  Val set the crock on the floor. “There’s more to life than falling in love.”

  “All you need is love,” Lilah sang. She untwisted her thick brown hair from its loose knot, and it fell down over her shoulders, covering the stars on her flag T-shirt.

  Val belted out her musical retort. “Gimme money, that’s what I want.”

  If Lilah was McCartney, Val was her Lennon. The cynic. The pragmatist.

  Lilah laughed. “Wouldn’t you rather have both?”

  Val gave a tsk as she thumbed through the Whole Earth Catalog. “Hope springs eternal, I guess. But just in case, I have a new batch of candles brewing. They’ve been selling well.”

  “Hope these little beauties will go fast, too.” Lilah scooped up the three necklaces she finished and arranged them on the jewelry display. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She walked through the workroom and out the back door to stand on the small concrete walkway wrapping their building. She lifted her face up to catch the full glory of the sunlight streaming across the Delaware, which flowed just below the embankment that bordered their shop. Other shopkeepers also took breaks behind their stores, congregating like a small impromptu community up and down the river.

  From this vantage point, the back parking lot to Fran’s Pub edged out of the trees. Sometimes, James stood there in the late afternoons, before his shift began, to look out over the river. Sometimes, he seemed to be looking back at her, making her heart flutter against her ribs like a caged bird aching for flight. Last night, she dreamed he’d climbed over the rail fence lining the parking lot and walked along the river bank to where she waited. His lean muscled arms encircled her. When his warm lips met hers, the very air around them swirled, as if she floated atop the water’s current.

  The pottery wheel whirr
ed beyond the open door, bringing her re-lived dream to an end. For now.

  Lilah inhaled the warm April air. “Hey, I went over our accounts last night. We did okay last month. There’s enough in the dinner fund for some burgers, at least.” The whirring continued, so she went inside. “Let’s close up for dinner tonight. It’s Wednesday, no one comes in on Wednesday night anyway.”

  Val frowned at her clay-mucked hands. “I’ll need some serious washing up.”

  “I could wrap things up while you get presentable.” She didn’t add that today’s date was the seventh, or that she believed the stars had aligned, and tonight, she would be lucky, finally.

  ****

  Later, while Val showered, Lilah tended to their last customer. The girl in a tie-dyed tee set a rainbow candle and an eight-by-ten glossy photo of Jim Morrison on the counter, then counted out enough quarters and dimes from the pocket of her bell bottoms. Lilah imagined that tonight a shrine would glow in the teen’s bedroom. The girl looked longingly at the newest necklace. Lilah forced herself to make small talk rather than taking pity and giving the girl a fifty percent discount. She’d learned that practice had a tendency to backfire, so she kept her sympathies with the shop’s overhead.

  The teen fingered the buttons, picked up one saying Free Acid. Lick Here. Lilah wasn’t about to offer any discounts on that one, even if it was a joke.

  “Have a good night.” She waited until the girl was outside and had passed the shop window. Jumping up, she rushed to the door, locked it, then hit the light switch.

  “Val, you ready? I’m starving!” She finger-combed her hair in the daisy-trimmed mirror.

  Val’s boots tromped on the stairs. “Ready.” She slipped her green army jacket over her Kinks T-shirt and faded denim skirt.

  They walked down Main Street, past Gerenser’s Ice Cream Shoppe, past tightly wedged stores packed with imported and handmade trinkets, knickknacks and clothing. As they passed the New Hope Playhouse, Val asked, “So where to, Havana’s?”

  Lilah winced, as if deciding. “It’s probably crowded.”

  “Crowded? The streets are deserted.”

  New Hope normally bustled with tourists regardless of the day or hour, but tonight she and Val were the only ones on the street. “It is weird. Still, Fran’s is right there. Let’s go in.”

  Val smirked. “Haven’t you given up yet? It’s been two weeks. Let the wild mustang ride off into the sunset without you, for cripes’ sake.”

  Lilah trudged down the path to where the outdoor tables sit between the street and the bar. “He drives a Harley, not a Mustang. And I’m in the mood for a good burger.”

  Val followed, muttering, “I know what you’re in the mood for.”

  Lilah hung her handbag on the back of a red wooden chair at the table with the best view of the bar inside. “I love to sit in the open air.”

  “Stare at the cute bartender inside…” Val pulled out her chair and plopped down.

  “Shush.” Bad enough to endure teasing, but Lilah would shrivel to nothingness if anyone heard.

  A thirtyish couple occupied one of the eight outdoor tables; the rest stood empty, their candles unlit. Inside, an older man slumped at one end of the bar where an aproned Ben leaned.

  He stubbed out his cigarette and shuffled through the door with two menus. “Need these? Or are you here to drown your sorrows?”

  “Hey, Ben.” Lilah took the menus, and handed one to Val. “We have no sorrows to drown. Tonight, we eat. And maybe drink.”

  “Cool. Gimme a call when you know what you want.”

  Val opened her menu. “Oh, Lilah already knows what she wants.”

  Lilah slapped shut her menu to glare at Val. “Yes, a cheeseburger. That’s what I want. And a small iced tea, please.”

  Ben’s hair fell across his face as he wrote on the slip. “Cool. Need a minute, Val?”

  Val heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, please. I’m not as fast as Lilah.”

  He turned a chair backward and sat. “Take your time. Not like there’s any rush.”

  Lilah stole a glance toward the indoor bar. “The whole town looks pretty dead tonight.” More than dead – distant. Oblivious.

  Behind the counter, James wiped a glass with a rag, and then hung it overhead. Something about his movements looked too deliberate.

  “It’s the calm before the weekend storm. Can’t keep the tourists away then.” Val handed the menu to Ben. “I’ll have a cheeseburger, too. Well done. And a diet Fanta.”

  “You got it.”

  Nails dug into her arms, Lilah watched Ben. Damn his long legs. They took him inside too quickly. James never so much as glanced up.

  Over their meal, Val said, “Remember, I’m in Cape May all weekend, I worked last Saturday and Sunday.”

  “I know. I’ll cover it.” Lilah took a small bite, in case James happened to look out at her.

  Val pointed a french fry across the table. “And no closing early to come hang out here.”

  Lilah stabbed the ice in her glass with her straw. “I said I’ll cover it.”

  “All right, don’t get mad. But you’ve been so moony lately.”

  Lilah wanted to argue, but Ben was walking over with the check. He sat down. “So, what’s new with you ladies?”

  “Eh, just the usual.” Lilah dug money from her purse. “I think I’ll go in for a margarita.”

  Ben put his pencil behind his ear. “I can get that for you.”

  “Stay and talk to Val. She’s been having these wild fantasies. I’m a little tired of hearing about them.”

  He leered at Val and leaned forward. “Oh yeah? Am I in them?”

  Lilah laughed as she made her way inside Fran’s, pausing a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark interior. The old man still slumped on his stool toward the far end of the bar. James leaned against the bar, his hair shining in the overhead light, reading Rolling Stone. He glanced up as she walked in. He stilled. The brief glint in his eye dimmed.

  She pulled out the stool closest to the door. “Is this seat taken?”

  James set down his magazine, pages open. “It’s all yours. What can I get you?” He waited, expressionless, hands resting against the counter.

  She smiled, but he didn’t return it. Or anything like it.

  “A margarita. Frozen. With salt.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. Maybe she should have let Ben get her drink.

  He pulled the top from the Cuervo bottle, poured it into the shaker, and added some triple sec.

  She’d never been good with silence. “So, how’s it going?”

  James rimmed the glass with salt. “Oh, great.” He snorted, and anger flashed in his eyes. His lips tightened into a thin line as he poured.

  Lilah waited for elaboration, but none came. “Really? You seem a little upset.”

  He set the glass on the bar and glared at her. “Should I open a tab? Or is it a one margarita kind of night?” A harsh edge in his voice gave her a chill.

  “Probably just the one.” The tequila burned, melted the salt in her throat, unraveled her coiled nerves. She left a five on the bar. “Thanks.”

  He picked up his magazine and frowned at an article.

  Ben and Val were sharing a cigarette as she returned. The other couple had gone.

  The haze of smoke Val blew softened her face. Or maybe it was the candlelight. It gave her a sympathetic air. “Back so soon?”

  “Yeah, it’s a little chilly over there.”

  Ben hugged the chair. “He’s been like that for almost two weeks. Mad at the world.”

  Val leaned forward. “What’s up? Girl troubles?” Her eyes flicked to Lilah.

  He winced. “Worse. Got his ticket to Nam.”

  Lilah grabbed Ben’s wrist. “Oh, no.” Not Vietnam. Each week, she read Life magazine’s articles telling of the unbearable horrors the soldiers had to endure. Anything could happen to James there.

  Val took a drag from the cigarette and handed it to Ben. “When does he l
eave?”

  “Monday.” His voice was heavy with trepidation.

  “This Monday?” Lilah’s throat constricted.

  Inside, James turned a page and continued to read, leaning his elbows on the bar as if it’s a night like any other, as if he’s not leaving in less than a week. He didn’t acknowledge the weight of her stare.

  Smoke curled around Ben’s head. “It’s a real bummer. I was just getting used to his surliness.” He stood. “If you’re done, I’m gonna blow this graveyard.”

  Val pulled the dinner fund pile of ones from the front pocket of her army jacket. “Your tip’s in there, too. See you.”

  Lilah grabbed her handbag. “I need a walk.” She stood too quickly, and the chair tilted backward. She righted it before it could fall, and looked over to see if James noticed.

  His head down, he turned another page.

  The distance between them felt immense already. She didn’t know how to traverse it, how to scale the walls he was constructing. Somehow she knew if she didn’t find a way, he’d leave and never come back to her.

  Val threw her napkin on the table. “Take it easy, I’m coming.”

  “No. I want to be alone.” She said it too fast, and Val focused her wide green eyes on Lilah.

  Lilah’s emotions twisted into a jumbled knot, a knot that might unravel a little if she walked. She softened her voice. “I need to think.”

  Val eased away. “Okay. You know where I am if you need me.” She touched Lilah’s arm as she walked down the sidewalk, then turned toward the apartment.

  James nodded to a guy with a bandanna walking in the rear entrance. The guy reached into his back pocket, pulled out a wallet and handed a bill to James, who filled a tall beer glass from the tap.

  He’d seen her standing there, knew she was leaving. She could feel it. She could also feel that she could stand here until closing and still he wouldn’t look at her, no matter how much he wanted to.