by Diann Hunt
Before she could say any more, Micah threw up her hands and shouted, “Yay!” She and Chaos ran around the room together, clearly happy at this unexpected turn of events.
Andrea turned to her. “Looks to me as though it’s all settled.”
“I guess so. I won’t be able to pick him up until tomorrow after I get finished at the salon. You’re sure that’s okay?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Mick will be here till I get home, so we have it covered.”
“See you tomorrow, then.” Callie shouted goodbye to Chaos, but he barely glanced her way. He was off and running down the hall with Micah.
When Callie got home from the salon, she called Brad. “Hey, Brad. I just wanted to call and let you know that Andrea said everything was set for this weekend. Micah will be gone next week, so we can get that playhouse finished. Mick will help us when he is home, too.” Holding the cordless phone next to her ear, she paced the floor.
“That’s great. I had hoped we could get started on it soon. I need to get this lumber out of my garage so I can fit my truck inside. Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you later.”
Before she could hang up, he asked, “How have you been?”
The question caught her off guard. “I’m fine. Uh, and you?”
“Keeping busy with house construction. Sure could have used your help on this one.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Like I was a big help. I didn’t know the first thing about building when your brother put me there.”
“You learned a few things, though. That’s what’s important.”
She wanted to say, Yeah, I learned a few things, like how I’d better hide my heart the next time around. But of course, she didn’t. “I guess.”
“You could always lose some more parking tickets.”
Thoughts of the ticket lurking in her handbag made her choke. She started to cough as she retrieved her handbag.
“Didn’t mean to get you all choked up. You don’t have to lose your tickets. It was just an idea to get you back on my job site.”
She let out a nervous laugh while she rummaged through her bag in search of the ticket.
“What’s that noise?”
“What noise?” she asked, picking her way through the various pockets.
“I don’t know. It sounds like a squirrel digging his way through a pack of acorns.”
She gasped and stopped searching. Irresponsible, once again. Hopefully Judge Sharp wouldn’t find out.
“Oh, listen, Brad, I’d better go.” She had to find that parking ticket or Heather would have her head. “I’ll see you on Friday at the Sauderses’ house, okay?” Opening her appointment book, she said, “My last haircut is at four-thirty, so I could be at their house around six o’clock. How’s that?”
“Sounds great. I’ll look forward to seeing you then.”
She clicked off and stared at the phone, repeating Brad’s words, “‘I’ll look forward to seeing you then.’ He could have said, ‘I’ll see you then.’ But he didn’t. He said, ‘I’ll look forward to seeing you then.”
Placing the phone back in its cradle, she realized she was grinning to herself. Apparently she was never going to learn.
Chapter Thirteen
When Callie’s last highlight appointment walked out of the Peaches & Cream Salon, she scrubbed the black basin with a vengeance to remove filmy hair product. “Boy, am I tired,” she said, straightening.
“You’ve been working too hard, Callie. You’re going to have to slow down.” Jessica had her hands on her hips.
Callie grinned. “Okay, Aunt Bonnie.” She wasn’t about to tell Jessica the weariness came from a lack of sleep. It was one thing to say she wouldn’t think of Brad anymore, but it was quite another to comply.
Jessica frowned. “Make fun of me if you will, but when you come down with something, don’t blame me.”
“You worry too much.” Callie put away the cleaning supplies, grabbed a broom and walked over to her workstation. With short strokes, she pulled the cut hair into a pile for easy pick up. Callie and Brad had such different ways of looking at things, yet he drew her in ways she couldn’t explain. In a different way than Jeremy had.
She was attracted to him, but it was more than that. Much more.
She found Jessica staring at her and scrambled to say something. “Now that the Sauderses’ home is finished, my schedule is more manageable.”
“Yeah? So how come I never catch you at home anymore?”
“I didn’t know you called. Why didn’t you leave a message?”
She shrugged. “Nothing important. Just called to chat.”
Callie squatted and swept the hair into the dustpan. “Hey, you never did bring in pictures of that bed-and-breakfast your parents liked so much.”
“Actually, I did. I showed them to Bonnie, and she was very interested. Even mentioned she had an anniversary coming up and maybe they’d check it out.”
Callie tossed the hair shavings into the trash and turned to her. “Really?”
Jessica nodded with a smile.
Callie thought a moment. “Guess I’d better look into it.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Jessica said.
With a glance at the clock, Callie said, “Well, I’ll be back in a couple of hours for my next appointment. Aunt Bonnie should be here any minute. I’m headed over to the nursing home.”
Jessica shook her head. “Like I said, you’re too busy.”
“See you later, Mom,” Callie called over her shoulder.
White-haired folks sat at round tables, playing cards and talking among themselves. A man at one table boasted of his win while several of the women shook their heads and grinned. A couple of people waved at Callie as she made her way past. One old geezer whistled at her. She laughed. They might be old, but they still had plenty of life left in them.
As she neared the end of the room, a man stood to his feet and belted out a blustery chorus of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” Callie turned and listened. When he finished, everyone gave a hearty round of applause. Oh, to live life with that kind of abandon. Just to enjoy yourself and not worry about what people thought.
Not that she worried about what people thought—well, except for Brad. It irritated her that his opinion mattered. But it did.
The next couple of hours passed quickly with a steady stream of white hair falling to the floor around her. Callie popped in to say hello to Gram, but she was sleeping, so she left a note and headed back to the salon. She would soon have a pretty good wad of money saved for her aunt and uncle’s anniversary. Keeping up this work pace was getting old, but she would definitely miss the nursing home members when she stopped working there. And though it was understood she was there only temporarily, she decided she wouldn’t stop before she found a replacement stylist. She owed them that much.
After she finished at the salon, Callie stopped in at the Peaches & Cream Ice Cream Parlor to see if Olivia was working. A blast of cold air hit Callie the moment she stepped onto the black-and-white checkered tile in the parlor. The red wood and chrome tables and chairs reminded her more of a soda shop than an ice cream parlor, but Aunt Bonnie had insisted on the furnishings.
Spotting the pretty girl behind the counter, Callie said, “Hey, Olivia, how’s it going?”
Wiping the countertop, Olivia looked up with a smile. “Hi, Callie.”
“So, you enjoying your new job?”
“I love it,” she said enthusiastically. “And I get free ice cream.” She leaned in. “I can say that since no one else is in here.”
Callie laughed. “It does have its perks.”
“So what are you up to?” Olivia asked.
“Just leaving work. Gonna go home and make dinner.”
“How’s it going with Uncle Brad?”
Callie’s breath caught in her throat. The surprise must have shown on her face.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I not have said that? It’s just that you look so cute tog
ether, and I’ve never seen Uncle Brad so in love before.”
It was all Callie could do to keep her jaw shut.
“Uh-oh. I said something I shouldn’t have.” Olivia looked uncomfortable. “You didn’t know?”
Though she knew that no one else was in the room, Callie looked around once more for good measure. The last thing she wanted was gossip about her and Brad to spread through the town. “Know what?”
“That Uncle Brad was in love with you?”
Callie dug deep into her lungs for a bit of air and tried to appear normal so Olivia couldn’t see the emotional storm she was causing. “We’re just good friends, honey,” she managed.
Olivia’s eyebrows raised. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
Callie willed herself to be calm, but her body wasn’t cooperating. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to say hello.” She hoped her manner appeared nonchalant. Forcing a smile, she began to back away.
“You’re not mad at me, are you, Callie?”
“No, no. Of course not. I need to stop by the store before I go home.” Another forced smile and a wave. “Talk to you later.” Her voice was chipper, denying the chaos inside her. She formed slow and deliberate steps toward the door, ignoring her sweaty palms and trying to hide the hiccups that bubbled to the surface.
Olivia was just a kid. She probably fell in love at least twice a week. How could she possibly know Brad’s heart? Callie’s fingers trembled on the steering wheel and she hiccupped. Why couldn’t she be like normal people and just deal with stress without sounding like a drain with plumbing problems?
Callie’s emotions were in a shambles by the time she reached the grocery store. If she didn’t need dog food, she would have skipped the stop all together.
She’d calmed down a little by the time she had pushed her cart into the produce section. She figured she might as well pick up a few things while she was there. She was rummaging through the grape bags for a good clump when a voice called behind her.
“You just never know who you’re going to run into at the store.”
Tiny shivers ran up her spine. Familiar shivers. When she turned around, her nose practically thumped into Brad’s chest.
If she “ran into” him one more time, she was going to accuse him of following her. Not that she minded.
He barely stepped back. His nearness made her self-conscious. She couldn’t back up because the produce was right behind her. He had definitely invaded her space.
She dared not look into his eyes. “Brad, what are you doing here?” She spoke the words squarely into his shirt.
“Aren’t I allowed?”
The words rumbled in his chest, with the beat of his heart providing a steady background rhythm. She eased to the side and looked up at him. He grinned. The gleam in his eyes, the confidence, the determination—it all unnerved her in a big way.
She let out a nervous laugh.
“I just never expected to see you shopping at a grocery store. You know, since you never cook.” As she teased him, the muscles in the back of her neck loosened. She reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
He grabbed her hand in midair and looked at her nails. “Coral, right?”
She tried to swallow. but her mouth got all dry and gritty.
“The nail polish. Seems I remember you telling me that once.” Another lazy grin.
Somehow she managed not to gulp out loud. She made a mental note that coral worked for her.
“I’m going fishing. Thought I’d take some soda along with me, maybe a snack to tide me over till dinner.”
“Where are you going fishing?”
“The riverbank down from my house.” He hesitated. “Want to join me?” Amusement clearly shined in his eyes. “Unless of course you don’t think you can handle it. Some girls get squeamish.”
She was not a “girl.” And yes, she could handle it just fine, thank you very much. Her chin lifted. “Sure, why not. I’ve never been fishing, but I’m game,” she said bravely.
“The way I see it,” he said, practically rocking on his heels, “there’s no time like the present to get started.” He winked at her.
Was this the same guy she couldn’t get along with?
“Don’t I need a license?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Actually, you should have one. Why don’t we see if you like it first? If the gaming guys come around, I’ll pay the fine.”
Did she just agree to go fishing with Brad? If she could keep her mind off anything more than friendship, they’d get along just fine. Olivia’s words came back to her. That was a big “if.”
“Good. I’ll swing by my house and grab an extra pole. Nothing fancy. Just your basic stick with a line. Why don’t you meet me at my house, and we’ll walk.”
By the time they were ready, Callie wondered what had gotten into her. Not only had she never fished, but also she hated worms. She had hoped Brad would use a more sophisticated type of bait but her hopes sank like a broken bobber when he pulled out the box of worms.
Callie tried not to think about it as she followed him toward their place on the riverbank beneath a big oak tree. As the sun slipped slowly from the sky, splinters of light sprayed through tree branches and settled softly upon the water’s surface. Birds fluttered and chirped, but otherwise the only thing that could be heard was the gentle rustle of the river.
“The first thing we have to do is bait the hook,” Brad said with a grin.
Callie tried not to gulp out loud. I can do this. I can do this.
“Want me to help you?”
She could almost hear the drumroll in her head. This man traveled internationally. Probably ate chicken’s feet and octopus, and wrestled crocodiles and platesized spiders. She could not—and would not—squirm at the sight of a worm.
“No, I think I can handle it.”
“You’re sure?” He looked at her as though he had his doubts, which fueled her determination all the more. She could almost hear a band playing a triumphant tune in the background.
“I’m sure.” Taking a discreet but very deep breath, she opened the box of worms. There were hundreds of them, crawling all over one another, leaving slime everywhere. She’d never liked worms. As a kid, Johnny Barker used to chase her with them. The little twirp. He probably owned the fishing shop where Brad got them.
The one thing she never understood was which end was the head of the worm. Not that it mattered. She swallowed. Hard. One more time for good measure.
“You sure?” he asked again.
If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she saw his mouth quiver, as though he was trying to hide laughter. She straightened.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Pushing the disgust deep inside her, she cheerfully smiled at Brad while plunging her hand into the box. She acted as though she were merely reaching for a soda from the ice chest, all the while choking back her urge to scream loud enough to strip the bark from the trees. She pulled out the fattest, slimiest, wiggliest worm she had ever seen in her life. Her stomach lurched, but her pasted smile stayed, well, pasted.
That irritating grin still lurked at the sides of his mouth.
She looked at the worm, and then at Brad. Suddenly she saw a slight resemblance.
She grabbed the fishing rod and with trembling fingers lifted the worm—and hiccupped.
She dropped the worm back into the box, for which she was thankful. No doubt the worm was, too.
Brad laughed. “I was waiting on that.”
Callie wanted to be mad, but the way he said it made her laugh, too.
“Here, let me help you.”
He baited her hook and soon they were both playing the waiting game. For the life of her, Callie could not understand what people found so great about fishing. Going through all that gross, slimy stuff just to wait for a scaly fish to wiggle about on the end of your hook? Hadn’t these people ever heard of fish sandwiches at fast-food restaurants?
“So, do you clean your fish and cook it?” she asked
.
“I clean it but I don’t cook it. Mom does that for me. I’m not a cook, remember? The only time I go into the kitchen is for snacks.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Callie thought of Uncle George and figured he’d get along just fine with Brad.
“I hear you’re quite the baker.” He reeled in his line and recast it upon the water.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Gram.”
Callie chuckled. “I brought her a piece of cake once or twice. Figured she could use some meat on her bones.”
He looked at her. “I think so, too.” Brad turned his attention back to his bobber. “I’m worried about her. She doesn’t seem herself lately.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“Thanks for making time for her. You don’t have to do that.”
“She’s my friend,” Callie said, meaning it.
“Thanks, just the same.”
Callie’s pole started dancing. “Wow, I’ve got something!”
“Reel it in nice and easy,” he said. “Not too fast, not too slow.”
“Oh, sure, that tells me a lot,” she squealed.
Brad got up and moved behind her, placing his strong arms around her; his calloused hands covered hers. “Like this,” he said, reeling slowly on the bobber. “Feels like a good-sized catch,” he said, yanking on the line, little by little.
Callie thought maybe she could grow to like this after all. His hands were warm and protective. The musty smell of his cologne overpowered the fishy smell of the river. It seemed he didn’t stick with the same cologne for long. Unpredictable. She liked that in a man.
Once he pulled the fish out of the water, she couldn’t believe the size of it. It was enough to feed a family of eight—okay, five. Well, it was certainly enough to feed both of them.
“Oh, you caught a walleye. Great job,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if it was too late in the season for them.”
He held the fish up to her. “This is how you take it off. Put your hand on it like this so you won’t get stuck by its fins.”
Brad was so close, holding her hand as he helped her maneuver the fish free from the line. Fishing wasn’t so bad after all.
