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Wedding Date in Hot Springs, Arkansas

Page 7

by Annalisa Daughety


  “Overwhelming, isn’t it?” A woman in a navy sweat suit asked as she filled her water bottle with water from the fountain.

  Reagan nodded. “Very.”

  “I’m Maggie. I’ve been a member for about six months.” She patted her stomach. “Lost ten pounds.”

  “That’s great.” Reagan smiled and introduced herself. “I haven’t exercised in years. But after I had my twins, I’ve had a hard time getting rid of the extra weight.”

  “Twins!” Maggie exclaimed. “How old?”

  “Nine months.”

  “Girl, you look great.” Maggie smiled broadly. “You have any more kids?”

  Reagan told her about Ava Grace and Izzy. “I never expected to have four. And can you believe my husband thinks we should try for one more? Says then he’ll have enough for a basketball team.”

  Maggie clucked her tongue. “Why don’t you wait and make that decision after you’ve had a few full nights of sleep?”

  Reagan laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Honey, I’ve been there. Not enough hands, not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Little people depending on you for everything, and you start to feel like a nonperson. A husband who comes home from work late and tired and has no idea that your job is a job, too.”

  That summed it up exactly. “It’s like you live at my house.” She smiled. “But I love them dearly. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

  “But you don’t know who you are anymore. It’s hard to tell if you’re coming or going.”

  Reagan nodded.

  “Well I think you’ve done a good thing by joining here. A little time for you.” Maggie smiled. “Want me to show you the ropes?”

  “Please. I don’t have much time before we need to get home for naps and then go pick Izzy up from school.”

  Ten minutes later, Reagan had decided the treadmill was where she should start. “Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem.” Maggie smiled. “I usually take the Tuesday and Thursday morning Zumba class. You should give it a try sometime.”

  Reagan shook her head. “I’ll stick to walking for now. But you never know.” She stepped on the machine and hit the START button. She should’ve thought to bring her earbuds so she could listen to music. Maybe next time.

  Next time.

  She was really doing this.

  Maggie was right. She’d desperately needed to do something for herself.

  So she ignored the guilt over all the things she could be doing for her kids, her husband, or her house, and she walked. It might be a slow pace, but it was something.

  Operation Hot Mommy had begun.

  Violet stood on the deck of Jackson’s lake house and took in the view. The spectacular view.

  She’d always hoped to have a house like this, right on the water with a sunny garden area and a hammock in the backyard. Not to mention the to-die-for kitchen.

  She enjoyed one more second of sunshine before hurrying toward her car. Arnie was sound asleep on his bed in the family room, and Violet was confident he’d sleep most of the afternoon. Now that he’d lost most of his hearing, he could sleep through just about anything, including the sound of boats zooming past the dock at the edge of the yard as lake lovers took advantage of the last few hot days before fall set in.

  Violet got in her car and drove toward downtown Hot Springs. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d loved visiting the town. Hot Springs was steeped in history, and people had been coming to bathe in the natural hot springs for hundreds of years.

  Traffic along the main drag between the historic Arlington Hotel and Bathhouse Row was terrible. Violet slowed for a group of pedestrians and finally found a parking spot not too far from Aunt Teak’s.

  “There you are,” Grandma called. “I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

  “Not a chance.” Violet grinned and pushed a strand of red hair from her face. “It took me a little while to get to the lake house and then back here.”

  Grandma gave her a quick hug. “Is Arnie okay?”

  “He’s hanging in there. The vet says he’s doing well considering his age, but I don’t know.” The dog would be fifteen later in the year, and Violet knew the time he had left was short. “He’s my longest successful relationship, you know.”

  Grandma joined in her laughter. “He’s a good dog, dear. I’m just sorry you couldn’t stay at my house for a few days because of my allergies.” She smiled. “But if I ever were going to let a dog inside the house, it would be him.”

  Violet linked arms with her grandmother, and they walked toward Aunt Teak’s. “Is Mrs. Kemp planning on staying in business?”

  “Oh yes. She and Oliver adore the shop. Me, I like retirement. But they seem really happy.” Grandma had taught kindergarten for thirty years before retiring.

  Violet paused to look at the exterior of the building. “It’s really beautiful.” The first story of the Victorian-style building was a glass storefront, but the upper floor revealed large bay windows and turrets.

  “I think you could have a wonderful little business here,” Grandma said. “No pressure though. The Realtor left a key with Betty. You can look around and decide if this is something you want to pursue.” She held the door open to the antique store.

  “Good afternoon, Violet.” Mrs. Kemp smiled from behind the counter. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been in. There are some new items that you might like to see.”

  Violet adored things with a history. Her love of vintage clothes was only the beginning. “Every time anyone comes in my house, they want to know about the typewriter.” She’d purchased a green Optima Super model typewriter from the store a couple of years ago. “I love thinking about the stories and letters that machine must have typed back in the fifties.”

  Mrs. Kemp nodded. “I’m sure it looks wonderful in your home. Rose showed me some pictures she took the last time she was there of some books you’d gotten at an estate sale.”

  “I love hardback copies of classic books,” Violet explained. “I think they look so pretty on the shelf, not to mention how they smell.”

  “You like the way old books smell?” Shadow asked.

  Violet hadn’t noticed her sitting in the corner on a plush footstool. “I sure do.”

  The teenager made a face. Gone was the all-black attire and inky hair, and in its place was a tennis dress and light brown locks.

  “I like your hair,” Violet said.

  Shadow absently touched her ponytail. “I’m not sure about the color, but it will do for now.” She stood up and picked up a tennis racket. “I’m walking to the courts. I’ll be back soon.”

  Mrs. Kemp nodded. “Don’t be late. We’ll leave here promptly at five to go home. Your granddaddy wants to go eat barbecue tonight at McClard’s.”

  Shadow shrugged and walked out.

  “Teenagers.” Mrs. Kemp sighed. “That girl is her mama made over.”

  “How’s she adjusting?” Grandma asked.

  “She won’t talk to us, so I don’t know. She’s struggling trying to fit into a new school. But she met a boy at church last week, so maybe that’s a step in the right direction.” She grinned at Violet. “I saw a picture of her last boyfriend, and he had so many piercings sticking out of his nose and lip, I’ll bet he has a hard time going through airport security.”

  “Well, at least she’s moved on,” Grandma said.

  Mrs. Kemp nodded. “I just wish I knew how to reach her. These past years have been tough. First Jenny’s accident and then Stuart remarrying. I guess it’s no wonder Shadow is having a tough time finding her place in the world.”

  Violet understood something about that. She hadn’t experienced the tragedies Shadow had, but she’d never felt like she was on completely solid ground either. “Maybe I could talk to her sometime,” she offered. “Take her out to eat or shopping or something.”

  Mrs. Kemp’s face lit up. “That’d be wonderful. You are only a couple of ye
ars younger than her mom would’ve been. She and Stuart married so young—right out of high school. Shadow came along a couple of years later. I always said she and her mama grew up together.”

  Violet froze. It was hard to comprehend that she could be nearly old enough to have a sixteen-year-old. And here she’d not even started on a family. “I have no idea if she would open up to me. I’m good with small kids, when just giving them a stick of gum or a lollipop makes you automatically cool.” She grinned. “But I’m pretty sure a teenager might think I’m kind of lame.”

  “You’re no such thing.” Grandma patted her on the arm. “I happen to think you’re very cool if it’s any consolation.”

  Violet giggled. “Thanks, Grandma. You’re pretty cool yourself.”

  “Are you ready to go next door?” Mrs. Kemp asked. She fished around in a drawer beneath the cash register. “Here’s the key.”

  Violet took it. Would this turn out to be a blessing or a waste of time? Only one way to find out. “I’m ready.”

  “I’m going to let you go over first,” Grandma said. “See what you think without me butting in.” She smiled. “But then I’ll come over and give you my opinion.”

  Violet laughed as she walked out into the September humidity. It was a nice spot for a shop. She could see Bathhouse Row from where she stood. Tourists from all over would pass by and might be unable to resist a cupcake. She unlocked the door to the empty building and stepped inside.

  The sparsely decorated space had a lot of potential. Violet could already imagine how it would look with a fresh coat of paint and maybe a mix-and-match set of tables and chairs. Reagan could help her with the design.

  She ran her hand along the counter and peered into the glass case that likely had once housed sandwiches and salads. But it would look even better with her cupcakes inside.

  She sat down in a lone wooden chair in the corner and the wobbly leg explained why it had been left behind. Could she do this?

  It would be a lot of work. A business plan, marketing, financing. She knew a little about those things but not a ton.

  And baking for real customers scared her. She’d loved to bake in law school. Her favorite part of study groups had been baking goodies to get her group through the long nights. Making cupcakes and cakes for friends’ birthdays and special occasions was one of her favorite hobbies.

  But could she pour herself into a business venture without knowing what the outcome would be? It all seemed so scary.

  Lord, am I crazy? No. Don’t answer that. Just help me make the right decision. Please show me the path to take and give me the courage to take it. Amen.

  She opened her eyes as Grandma walked inside.

  “Well? It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

  Violet nodded. “More than I ever could’ve imagined.”

  Grandma walked around the space. “So much potential. Don’t you love the high ceilings? And that bead board wall? A little paint on that and it would look so pretty.”

  “It is my style, that’s for sure.” Violet stood up. “Let’s go look at the kitchen.”

  She followed her grandmother into the good-sized kitchen and could immediately picture herself there. Baking. Icing. Creating new recipes.

  Happy.

  “Change has never been easy for me,” she said.

  Grandma nodded. “It isn’t easy for anyone. And if they say it is, they’re pulling your leg.”

  “What if I fail?” Violet whispered.

  Grandma put an arm around Violet’s shoulders. “I can tell you this. You’ll never succeed if you don’t try. And to me, that would be the real failure.”

  Violet considered the advice. “I’m going to sleep on it.”

  “I’ll be praying.”

  Violet hugged her grandmother. “Me, too.”

  Dear Mama,

  Well, I’m in trouble with Nana. As usual. I texted her to let her know I’d be back to the store a little later than I was supposed to be, but instead of waiting there for me, she drove her big old Buick to the tennis courts. It was so mortifying. Chase thinks I’m a total baby now because my grandmother came and made me get in the car so we could go home.

  I have my driver’s license. I don’t understand why they treat me like a baby. Granddaddy told me that I’d have to prove to them that I was responsible enough to borrow the car and that so far I hadn’t because I kept missing curfews and not doing chores. That’s really only happened twice, and I said I was sorry. They make a big deal about nothing. Daddy didn’t care about stuff like that. I wish I could just go back to Texas, except that I’m an outsider there, too, now that the new baby is here.

  Did you ever feel like you didn’t belong anywhere? That’s how I’ve felt ever since you’ve been gone. I’m living up to my name and turning into a shadow that no one even notices or listens to.

  What if I never fit in anywhere and have to live in some hut in the woods like Thoreau? (See, I was paying attention in lit class last year despite what Mr. Baker said on my report card.…)

  Ily,

  Shadow

  Chapter 11

  Mom: THIS NONSENSE HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH, VIOLET. IT’S BAD ENOUGH THAT I HAD TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR RESIGNATION FROM YOUR FATHER, BUT NOW MY OWN MOTHER INFORMS ME THAT YOU’RE IN HOT SPRINGS. AND YOU WON’T ANSWER YOUR PHONE. EVER. WHAT IS GOING ON? (Text message sent September 7, 5:02 p.m.)

  Violet Matthews: I LOVE YOU, MOM. I’LL FILL YOU IN SOON. DON’T WORRY. (Text message sent September 7, 6:11 p.m.)

  Violet sank into the comfy deck chair and leaned her head back. She’d called the Realtor this morning, and the man had graciously offered to give her one more day to consider things.

  Grandma and Grandpa had tried to get her to go to dinner with them, but she’d declined. It was best that she stay focused. She’d made endless pro and con lists throughout the day and still came up uncertain.

  She took a sip of water and stared out at Lake Hamilton. It was so beautiful here. A definite pro. She loved the outdoors, and moving to Hot Springs would give her endless opportunities to hike, fish, and water ski.

  But would she really be happy here?

  The distant sound of a doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Surely Mom hadn’t found out where she was staying and driven over. She’d made it clear through her barrage of texts and voice mails that Violet was crazy for resigning and was clearly just going through some kind of “my little sister is getting married instead of me” brand of crisis.

  As if.

  Violet hurried through the house and banged her knee on an end table.

  The bell rang twice in succession, followed by a series of knocks.

  “Just a minute.” She rubbed her knee. She just wanted peace and quiet. She peeked through the peephole and jumped back.

  Jackson Stratford.

  She glanced in the mirror above the offending end table. Her hair had air dried that morning, and it curled around her face like a lion’s mane. Big hair might be her special talent. She hadn’t bothered with makeup either.

  The doorbell rang again. “Violet?” he called.

  It irritated her that she looked so disheveled. Not because she wanted to impress Jackson, but because she hated to give him the satisfaction of seeing her less than perfect. She needed to be on her toes to deal with him, and looking all bare-faced and wild-haired put her at a disadvantage.

  A girl needed her confidence to face someone like him.

  Oh well. Violet opened the door. “Yes?” She crossed her arms.

  He grinned. “Sorry about showing up like this. I called the house a couple of times, but you must not have heard the ring.”

  “Oh I heard it. I just didn’t think it was my place to answer it.” She’d had a suspicion it might be him calling to check in on her, but hadn’t wanted to speak to him. Which, come to think of it, was probably a little rude considering he was letting her stay for free. “Sorry about that.”

  “Can I come in?”

  She managed a smile. “It’
s your house. It’s not like I could say no, could I?”

  He chuckled and walked inside. “Well, I know I promised you peace and quiet.”

  “I’ve definitely had that.” She narrowed her eyes. “Until now anyway.”

  Jackson didn’t even have the decency to look sorry. Instead he grinned. “Come on now, you were probably ready for some conversation.”

  She ignored his comment. “It’s an amazing space.” She motioned to where Arnie slept on his bed in a corner. “Arnie sure thinks so.”

  Jackson nodded. “I see.” He pointed at a closed door. “The vacuum is in there in case you want to make sure there’s no dog hair left behind.” He grinned. “If I were going into politics, that’d be a program of mine. No dog hair left behind.”

  “Ha-ha.” His jokes were as corny as ever. “I’ll have you know that Arnie doesn’t shed like some dogs.” She bent down to give Arnie a pat on the head. “But I’d be happy to vacuum before we leave just the same.”

  “Thanks. I hate the thought of dog hair on the floor.” He smiled. “The way I’m always vacuuming and sweeping drives my sister crazy every time her family visits. She always accuses me of being OCD about stuff like that. It’s why I’d never have an inside dog.”

  “Never?” She couldn’t imagine life without a dog in the house.

  He shook his head. “Nope. Way too much trouble. Plus they’d dig up the yard.”

  “And provide unconditional love and companionship. Or is that something you don’t know anything about?” She couldn’t help it. He was crazy.

  Jackson held up his hands. “Whoa there. I’m just telling you my position on inside animals. Don’t get defensive.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just offended on Arnie’s behalf. He’s a great dog. I can guarantee that your life would be more complete with a dog like him in it.”

  “Yeah. Completely full of dog hair.” He snickered.

  She glared. “You’re impossible.”

  “I could say the same thing about you.”

  Violet sighed. The last thing she wanted was an argument. “Listen, if there’s a problem with me and Arnie staying tonight, we can pack up. No big deal.” There was surely a pet friendly hotel nearby. Or she could just drive home and come back tomorrow if she needed to.

 

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