Where Azaleas Bloom

by Sherryl Woods

  He winced at the probably accurate description. “Was I that pitiful?”

  “Not pitiful,” she soothed. “Just a boy suffering from his first unrequited love, as near as I could tell.”

  “Well, if you knew it was unrequited, then you also know there’s nothing to be rekindled. Besides, I rarely catch a glimpse of Lynn while I’m working over at Raylene’s.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t take more than a glimpse to know when a possibility’s intriguing,” she said. “Seems to me she could use a steady man like you in her life. Ed Morrow wasn’t exactly a prize, and if I didn’t think much of him before, I think even less of him now.” There was a weight behind her words that suggested she’d heard things that maybe others didn’t know. There were, despite what everyone in town thought, things not even Grace would share with the world, not if she felt somebody stood to be hurt by the talk.

  She looked Mitch directly in the eye. “And you already know what I think about it being time for you to move on.”

  He laughed. “Grace, you probably know a lot more about romance than I ever did, but it seems to me that being steady almost never sends a woman’s pulse scrambling.”

  “It does when she’s been dealing with a man like Ed. And you know exactly what I mean, a man with a broken moral compass,” Grace replied firmly. “Trust me on that. I hear things.”

  Mitch nodded. “More than you need to, I suspect,” he said wryly. “And I’ll keep your advice in mind should something change. Now, do you suppose I could get my eggs, ham and grits?”

  “You’ll get oatmeal on a chilly morning like this,” she countered, then gave him a wink. “Then we’ll see about the rest.”

  “How on earth do you keep customers coming in here if you boss ’em around like this?”

  “What can I say? I have a charming personality,” she said. “And I always have the best gossip in town.”

  That, to his dismay, was all too true. “Just as long as I’m not your hot topic for today, I’ll put up with the oatmeal,” he called after her.

  “Why would I talk about you? So far, you haven’t done a single outrageous thing,” she called back, then added, “more’s the pity.”

  Trying to imagine what would happen if he did break any of the hard and fast rules he’d lived by since Amy’s death, Mitch prayed for the fortitude to keep it that way. As much as he loved Grace’s sass and vinegar, he wasn’t quite ready to be on the menu right along with the tuna melt.

  * * *

  Satisfied that she’d grilled Jeremy sufficiently to eke out a passing grade on his history test, Lynn sent him off to school, then walked into town. Outside Wharton’s, she grabbed the local weekly, then went in for a cup of coffee she intended to nurse as long as possible. Grace gave frequent refills, so it was usually enough caffeine to get Lynn through the day.

  “Well, well, look who’s here,” Grace said loudly as she entered.

  Only then did Lynn notice Mitch sitting by himself in a booth just inside the door. He gave her what looked like a nervous smile, then gestured to the table. “Join me?” he asked with apparent sincerity.

  “Are you sure? You look as if you’ve finished. Don’t you need to be over at Raylene’s soon?”

  “The crew knows what to do if they get there before I do,” he assured her. “Coffee?”

  “Yes,” she said eagerly even as Grace arrived with a cup and filled it to the brim, then refilled Mitch’s, a smirk on her face.

  Lynn watched her walk away. “Was she smirking?”

  Mitch sighed. “She was. Trust me, you don’t want to know why. How about something to eat? My treat.”

  “No, thanks,” she said, though she couldn’t help gazing longingly at a plate of French toast as Grace carried it by.

  “When was the last time you had Grace’s French toast?” Mitch asked with a knowing grin.

  “A while,” she admitted. “But seriously, I’m not hungry.”

  “Nobody looks at food the way you just did unless it’s a real temptation,” Mitch said, then called out to Grace. “An order of French toast, Grace, and put it on my tab.”

  “Done,” she called back.

  Lynn regarded him with dismay. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to. Having someone besides Grace to talk to while I finish my second cup of coffee is a real treat.”

  “I heard that,” Grace said as she passed by. She gave Lynn a wink. “The man has the hots for me, and don’t think I don’t know it. So does Neville, but my husband claims he’s past caring what I do as long as I quit bothering him.”

  Lynn laughed, noting the pained expression on Mitch’s face. “You know she wouldn’t tease you like that if she didn’t adore you.”

  “I know.” He leaned across the table and confided, “The woman scares the daylights out of me. If she has her way, she’ll marry me off before the summer’s over. You probably want to run for your life.”

  Once again, Lynn couldn’t control a chuckle. “I think you’re tougher than that.”

  He gave her a look then that she couldn’t quite interpret.

  “I used to think so, too,” he said, his voice suddenly sober.

  Before she could try to figure out what he’d meant by that, Grace put a plate of thick, golden French toast in front of her, along with a pitcher of warm maple syrup, butter and a shaker of cinnamon and sugar.

  “I wasn’t sure which way you liked it,” Grace said. “Me, I like the syrup, but a lot of folks prefer the cinnamon.”

  “I like it drowning in butter and syrup,” Lynn admitted. She spread butter over the slices, doused them in syrup, then tried the first mouthful. “Oh, my God,” she murmured, drawing a smile from Mitch. “What?”

  “I remember that look,” he said. “You used to get the same expression on your face at Rosalina’s when you’d take your first bite of pizza.”

  “As if I’d died and gone to heaven?” she said. “No doubt about it. When it comes to certain foods, it’s as if they speak to some part of my soul.”

  “So, pizza and French toast do that?” he asked, clearly amused. “What else?”

  “Chocolate decadence cake,” she said readily. “Almost better than sex.” The second the words left her mouth, she felt herself blushing furiously. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

  He laughed. “I don’t see why not, if it’s true. I’ll have to remember your very high opinion of those things. Now tell me what you’re doing in here so early.”

  She tapped the newspaper she’d set on the table. “Looking for another job.”

  Mitch frowned. “I thought you were working for Raylene.”

  “Only part-time. I need more hours.”

  “But what about the kids?” he asked, then waved off the question. “Sorry, none of my business. I guess I just assumed Ed would be paying support.”

  “He is,” she said quickly.

  Mitch held her gaze. “But? I know I heard a but in your voice just then.”

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Is he late with a check or something?”

  Lynn squirmed. “Mitch, I’m really not comfortable talking about this.” She didn’t want everyone in town speculating about Ed and the way he was behaving. Not that they weren’t already, but she didn’t want to confirm or add to the talk.

  Mitch clearly wasn’t going to back down, though. His expression filled with concern, he pressed, “I thought we were old friends. If
there’s a problem, maybe I can help.”

  “It’s sweet of you to offer, it really is, but this will work out,” she insisted. “And it’s not going to kill me to work a few more hours every week. It won’t hurt the kids, either,” she added defensively.

  “I know you’re a great mother, Lynn,” he replied patiently. “I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. I see enough of Jeremy and Lexie over at Raylene’s to see how well they’re turning out, and I know they have you to thank for that.”

  She drank in his praise. She’d heard far too little of it from her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “Thank you for saying that. They’re great kids. I worry myself sick sometimes about how the divorce is affecting them. Lexie’s growing up too fast, that’s for sure. She’s a sensitive girl and no matter how hard I try to keep my problems from her, she picks up on everything.”

  “She looks just fine to me,” Mitch consoled her. “You should hear her and Mandy over at Raylene’s. I can hear them giggling over the sound of all the hammering and, even more impressive, over that music they play. She sounds like a happy, healthy teenager to me.”

  “I wish I’d heard that,” Lynn said wistfully. “She and Mandy don’t hang out at our house much these days.”

  “Could be she feels guilty about having fun when she knows you’re sad,” Mitch said, surprising her with his insightfulness. “Kids are like that. Those first months after Amy died, mine did plenty of tiptoeing around whenever they came home on visits. Surprised the heck out of me. I didn’t think either one of those boys had a sensitive bone in their bodies, but they were raised by Amy, so of course they did.”

  She saw the faraway look in his eyes and responded to that. “There’s no mistaking how much you loved her, Mitch,” she said gently. As hard as the divorce proceedings were, she knew it was nothing like losing someone you loved so deeply with such finality.

  “Always will, I imagine,” he said. “But every day does get a little easier.”

  He seemed to snap himself back to the moment. “Now I’d better get over to Raylene’s or she’ll be wondering what happened to me. She always has some kind of checklist for me before she goes off to work.” He leaned closer and confided, “Don’t tell her, but I stuff ’em in my pocket and never look at ’em again.”

  “Is that because you really don’t give a hoot about what she wants or because you have a photographic memory?” Lynn asked.

  He shrugged. “Maybe a little of both. I know I’ll get to all of it eventually. I haven’t been in this business my entire life without knowing what needs to be done and when. See you around, Lynn. Thanks for the company.”

  “Thanks for the breakfast,” she said, then watched as he walked away. She was still following him with her gaze when Grace appeared just as he was climbing into his shiny new four-by-four parked out front. She couldn’t help wondering if a man who took such good care of his truck would be equally thoughtful when it came to caring for a woman.

  “That man does look good in a pair of jeans,” Grace said with a dramatic sigh. She pinned Lynn with a look. “Just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Hard not to notice,” Lynn replied, then gave Grace a chiding look. “But don’t go getting any ideas in your head, you hear me? I’m not looking for a man, and he says he’s not looking for anyone, either.”

  “And sometimes people lie to themselves because it feels safer,” Grace retorted.

  She sashayed off, leaving Lynn alone with the discouragingly paltry list of classified ads. Contemplating Mitch’s sexy butt in a pair of jeans was a whole lot more fascinating than the few menial jobs available in Serenity.

  But, she told herself staunchly as she forced her gaze back to the paper, ogling a man wouldn’t put food on the table. And that was what she needed today, not the fleeting and dangerous satisfaction of feeling her pulse race for the first time in a very long time.

  * * *

  Lynn was down to her last possibility, a cashier’s job at a mini-mart in a dicey section of town. Even in a tranquil community like Serenity, there were places to be avoided. Unfortunately, she was too desperate to take that into consideration.

  To her chagrin, she was being interviewed by a girl half her age. She’d probably barely met the twenty-one-year-old age requirement specified in the ad.

  “You willing to work nights?” Karena asked, snapping gum as she spoke, her expression bored.

  “What are the hours exactly?” Lynn asked, inwardly cringing at the thought of leaving the kids at home alone in the evening.

  “Eleven at night to seven in the morning,” Karena replied.

  Dismayed, Lynn shook her head at once. That was out of the question. “Sorry. I have kids at home. I can’t do that.”

  “Well, that’s all we have.” Karena stood up, ending the interview.

  “Thanks, anyway,” Lynn managed to say. “Sorry to have wasted your time, but the ad didn’t mention that it was a night job.”

  When she got back to her car, she rested her head against the steering wheel and fought the tears that were never far away these days. She tried hard not to give in to them, but sometimes she simply couldn’t hold back all the pain and frustration. A few minutes later, a tap on her window had her sitting upright, her heart racing.

  “Mitch!” she exclaimed. “You scared me half to death.”

  He gestured for her to roll down the window. When she’d complied, he regarded her with what looked like real distress. “Please tell me you were not even thinking about applying for a job here,” he said, heat in his voice.

  She frowned at his tone. “I did apply, but the only thing available is overnight. Obviously, I can’t do that.”

  “You shouldn’t be working here at any hour. It’s dangerous.”

  “If the clientele’s so rough, what are you doing here?”

  “I was on my way to my plumbing supplier’s and saw the HELP WANTED sign in the window and your car in the parking lot. After our conversation earlier, I stopped to check it out, make sure you weren’t about to do anything crazy.”

  “There’s nothing crazy about needing a job.”

  “Of course not, but not here, Lynn,” he said flatly.

  Annoyed by his attitude, she retorted, “I already told you I couldn’t take it because of the hours. What business is this of yours, anyway?”

  “Just one friend looking out for another,” he said, clearly not fazed by her attitude. “Do you know the reason they need a new night clerk? The last one was shot a week ago during a robbery.”

  Lynn started trembling uncontrollably. “Good God,” she murmured. “I had no idea.”

  “It was in the paper, the same one you were reading this morning.”

  “I just checked out the ads.”

  “Well, I imagine if I hadn’t come along to tell you, Carter would have stepped in. He has more problems around this area than anywhere else in town.” He hesitated, clearly waging some sort of internal debate with himself. “If you’re this desperate for a job, work for me,” he said with unmistakable reluctance.

  She almost laughed, but the expression on his face said he was serious. Not happy, but definitely serious. “You? Doing what? The last do-it-yourself job I tried to tackle at the house was such a disaster, it had to be redone by a professional.”

  He had the audacity to smile at that. “I wasn’t suggesting putting you on one of my construction crews. I could use the help with paperwork.”

  She studied him skeptically. “D
on’t you already have someone?”

  “Nah. In the winter I can usually keep up with the billing and payroll myself, but with spring coming on and more jobs, it’s harder for me to manage all that and the paperwork, too.”

  “I doubt I’d be much better at that than I was at wallpapering the kitchen,” she told him candidly.

  “It’s an easy system,” he assured her. “I can teach you in an hour.”

  “You have an office?”

  “No, that’s the beauty of it. You can work at home. I’ll just bring my laptop and a printer to your place and leave ’em. How about we give it a trial run, see how it goes? If you’re comfortable with it, we’ll take it from there.”

  Lynn felt a faint frisson of hope. “And you swear you’re not making up work just to give me a job?”

  “Cross my heart,” he said with a grin, sketching an exaggerated cross on his chest. “You can start tomorrow. I’ll bring the laptop by in the morning and show you the basics. There are half a dozen bills that need to go out, and maybe you’ll be up to speed to do payroll by the end of the week.”

  “If all this is as simple as you make it sound, how many hours are you thinking?”

  “Just part-time, maybe twenty. You’d be able to keep the job at Raylene’s, too. Would that be enough to help?”

  “It would be a godsend,” she told him, especially the part about working at home. “But only if you’re sure. You didn’t look all that certain when you first mentioned it. Were you already having second thoughts before the words were even out of your mouth?”

  “Not at all,” he said, sounding more convincing. “I’m sure about this, Lynn.”

  “And you’ll fire me if I’m lousy?”

  “I don’t think you’re going to be lousy, but if you are, something tells me I won’t have to do a thing. You’ll quit, either out of frustration or mind-numbing boredom.”