by Jean Oram
"It'll be on our website in twenty minutes!" Ed announced, flipping open a small spiral notebook.
"Okay! Today's winner!" The judge grabbed Mandy's hand and raised it high. "And if you want to support this lovely young woman in her new business venture and get your taste buds on these prize-winning brownies, which are simply delectable—" he paused to smile and pat his mouth with a hand "—go to the newspaper's website and donate to Mandy's cause! She's promised us brownies!"
Dazed, Mandy left the stage amid a plethora of back patting that left her shoulder blades stinging, and wondered what kind of wild ride was in store, now that Blueberry Springs had control of her destiny.
Chapter 18
The rumble of Frankie's Harley echoed in the distance, beating an irregular rhythm in Mandy's chest as she stood outside her maybe-soon-to-be-restaurant-if-she-could-pull-a-donkey-out-of-a-money's-butt and waited for his motorcycle to roll into view. The prodigal son of Blueberry Springs: the now soon-to-be famous Frankie. In the flesh.
Two weeks off from the show, according to the rumor mill.
His bike rumbled up the street, sending vibrations through her legs and making her body taut with yearning. In her fantasies, he saw her, offered her his second helmet and took her flying through the mountain passes like old times...
A group of young women dressed to the nines in outdoor gear they must have been convinced was 'the thing' by Jen, elbowed each other, their attention riveted to the tall, lean man rumbling up Main. Sexy and rugged as ever. Confident. In control. Ready to sweep through the crowd and make one woman feel like the only one on the planet worthy of his attention.
In the past it had been her—his best friend—and she longed for those days once more. She rose up on her tiptoes in anticipation and watched as he rode up with the wind, his shirtsleeves revealing the Chinese longevity symbol tattooed on his left bicep. She stepped out of the shadows of the building. He might look like a badass but she knew there was so much more to him that that outer layer. So much more.
Except...something was off with the way he was riding. His helmet seemed bigger. No, there were two of them. There was a small woman hugging his waist the way she should have been. She closed her eyes and leaned against the door to her restaurant, tumbling out of sight as it swung inward.
She fled to the kitchen area, glad the faded paper was still tacked to the windows. She bit her knuckle and stared at the empty fridge, concentrating on making her ribcage contract to let out the breath that had become wedged in her chest.
Fighting the temptation to find out what Blowtorch was doing in town—by yanking her off the back of Frankie's bike by the back of her shirt—she snatched her to-do list and worked until her eyes burned, hoping to find a new pain that would divert her from what she was feeling in her heart.
* * *
Cool drizzle settled on Mandy's arms, chilling her flesh as she stared through the plate glass window of the parts store, peering around a string of 'M's stuck to the window. Her eyes burned from the night spent sleeping in the office of her maybe-restaurant.
Blowtorch. Wearing a parts shirt.
As in, working here. In Blueberry Springs.
With Frankie.
Her heart began acting unexpectedly unstable.
Didn't Blowtorch have a real life somewhere? Away from Frankie? Far, far away from Frankie?
"Want me to run her out of town?" somebody whispered over Mandy's shoulder.
Mandy fumbled the damp package she had tucked against her chest and turned to face Mary Alice.
"We ran Dr. Leham out of town," Mary Alice said in a confidential tone that had Mandy picturing Mary Alice knocking a fist into the palm of her opposite hand as she trapped poor outsiders in dark alleys.
"No you didn't," Mandy said. "He transferred to the city when his contract was up. It was always his plan."
Mary Alice faced Mandy, hands on her hips, looking like the kind of person nobody in her right mind would mess with, let alone talk back to. "What that woman is doing is despicable," she spit. "Just like that Nash-hole nosing into town and honing in on Oz's fiancée just when he was trying to get his act together. Sometimes people need time, not some foreigner meddling and messing with things. Men just need time." Mary Alice shook her head and clucked her tongue.
Mandy scratched her ear and turned back to the window.
"She's trying to get Heart out of the store," Mary Alice grumbled. "That pup is an institution."
Mandy felt the earth shift. Damn, that woman was a fast mover. She only just rolled into town and she was already making changes? Mandy was going to have to step up her game.
What was it about Blowtorch? Sure she was cute, but she was messing with his dog and they'd barely just met each other. Mandy couldn't believe the Frankie she knew was standing for that.
Mary Alice leaned in. "That girl spells trouble. And if we let her succeed, what's next?"
"Mary Alice," Mandy groaned. This was going to get messy if she didn't push Mary Alice away and get her to leave Blowtorch alone. Frankie had to come to her, Mandy. On his own. The next move was one he had to make without the town getting involved. "Frankie makes his own choices."
Mary Alice continued, "Is she going to stop Benny from making the best burger in town?"
"You from gossiping?" Mandy retorted, crossing her arms.
Mary Alice laughed appreciatively, her bosom heaving with the effort. "And you from winning the brownie ribbon every year?"
Mandy felt a shiver dance down her spine and she rolled her shoulders, trying to put herself back at ease. "Good luck with that," she muttered.
Mary Alice let out another round of wheezing smoker's laugh.
"She's another Nash Leham," Mary Alice warned.
Mandy waved her off and headed for the entrance. "Give the girl a break," she said. "She has good taste in men." She flashed Mary Alice a wink to try and keep her from going after Blowtorch.
"We don't need a city slicker after Frankie," Mary Alice called, eyes flashing. "Not when he's got homegrown hankering after him."
Mandy ignored her and pushed her way into the store, knowing all she could do with Frankie was play the longtime best friend card and do a little reconnaissance. It wasn't the time for grand gestures and desperate humiliation. Not yet. But mark her words, if she was going down, she'd be engulfed in flames and kicking and screaming and fighting it all the way.
Mandy stopped inside the door and shifted from foot to foot, the store's silence sending creepy crawlies up her back. No radio station declaring the weather. No dog greeting her. Nothing. The shelves were covered in their usual amount of dust and the floor had the grime buildup at the edge of the shelving feet as usual, showing her that Blowtorch wasn't able to change everything overnight. Alex called out from behind a large parts catalog, "I was wondering when you'd finally come in."
Mandy jumped and squeaked out a reply that didn't make sense.
"He's in the back," Alex said without looking up. "Go on, through, if you'd like."
Blowtorch popped out from behind the parts shelves, her expression wary. Mandy gave her a smile and a slight nod of acknowledgement as she passed, gift tucked under her arm. Heart unfolded his long legs to amble after her, but Blowtorch grabbed his collar.
"Stay!" she commanded. To Mandy she said, "Sorry."
"It's okay," Mandy said. "Heart and I go way back." She gave Heart a scratch behind the ears, talking to him in a thatta-boy voice that made his tail thump the nearby shelves, sending boxes of bearings skittering across the floor.
Mandy snatched up the boxes and began placing them back on the shelf.
"I can do that," said Blowtorch in a firm voice.
"That's okay," she replied cheerily.
"I know where they go."
Mandy placed the last box on the shelf. "All done. Come on, Heart," she called, moving between the tall shelves, assuming Blowtorch would release the dog.
"Heart, stay!" Blowtorch commanded, tugging on the dog's
collar when he tried to follow. "He shouldn't hassle customers."
Mandy clenched her fists to keep from making a scene and forced herself to keep moving toward the back room, leaving the dog behind.
Rounding the corner to the room, she found Frankie hunched over a box of brake pads. As she drew near, she had to fight the temptation to wrap her arms around him and never let go. Everything about him was so familiar: the grit under his nails, the furrow between his brows and even the way his eyes lit up as he recognized her. Well, for the split second before caution swept it away and he crossed his arms and leaned back, blocking out all hope.
"Hi."
"Hey." Frankie scratched his forehead with a thumb.
"Um." Mandy fidgeted with her necklace, feeling as nervous as if it was the first time she was talking to someone she'd had the hots for. "You looked good on TV. And the car turned out well?"
"Yeah, real nice."
"You must be insanely busy with new jobs."
Frankie's eyes glowed with pride, but he shrugged modestly. "A few. But the show hasn't aired yet, so..." He shrugged again.
"That's good. Maybe you could do restoration and custom mods full time now?"
He turned away, placing the box on a shelf, straightening a few others as he worked his way down the row of returns. "What did you need?"
She clutched the wrapped, flat box with both hands and came around to where he was and held out the gift. "Happy birthday."
He hesitated for a second before meeting her eyes and accepting the package. "Thanks." He hefted the gift, contemplating it.
"Open it."
He looked at her and swallowed, almost as if he was considering something. "Right," he said softly and tore the paper off in one gentle swoop. She'd never been with him on Christmas day but she was pretty sure he surpassed all gift-opening records with his casual, efficient moves. She bet his mom used extra tape to foil him. And ribbon. Lots and lots of heavily knotted ribbon.
He held out the small picture frame, assessing it. She held her breath as he looked over the uncut sheet of stamps bearing iconic muscle cars. The stamps hadn't cost much, but figuring out how to mat and frame them in a professional way had. She hoped he understood that she'd thought of him and that he saw beyond the few dollars the gift had cost her.
Frankie gave her a quick, one-armed hug and said lightly, "Thanks. You always remember." He shook his head, looking pleased. "I'm going to hang this in my shop." He looked at it again, holding it out with both hands. "No, in my house." He gave her a crooked smile and the worry Mandy had been carrying eased.
They were friends. Maybe not more, but she still had a friend.
"Remember what?" asked a quiet voice that made Mandy start. She turned to find Blowtorch looking at her as if she'd just witnessed her boyfriend making out with another woman. Not Frankie sharing a half hug with his longtime best friend over a gift.
Which meant Blowtorch was going to end their friendship or at least, severely cripple it.
And she didn't like it. Not one bit.
She turned to Blowtorch, making herself play nice. "His birthday. I remembered his birthday."
Blowtorch shot Frankie a surprised look and Mandy felt a jolt of renewed life. "It's today," she added helpfully.
"Oh." Blowtorch seemed to shrink slightly and Mandy felt a pang of remorse. She knew how it felt to be the one on the outside. To be the girl who wasn't quite as close and important to the man in her life as she had hoped or been led to believe. And how much it sucked to be shown that in front of others.
"Don't worry," Mandy said lightly. "He's never made a big deal about it. He's weird that way." She gave Blowtorch an understanding smile, and moved to the door and turned to Frankie. "Are you doing anything special?"
He'd always made sure he was single for his birthday, as he hated the hoopla as well as the obligatory return fuss over the girlfriend's 'big day.' So it wasn't so hard to believe he wouldn't have told a new girlfriend it was his birthday. But still...did he have to fall for her so damned fast?
"You know. The usual. Supper with my parents."
She shot a glance at Blowtorch, who was standing with her legs apart, as though she was preparing to wrestle a greased pig to the ground. The girl might have a slight build, but Mandy had no doubt the girl could use physics to her advantage.
Mandy forced a smile and a light voice. "Great. Have a good birthday."
She shook her head at her lousy timing as she walked out. Why was she ready to say yes to Frankie now? Why couldn't it have been a few months ago? And how had things flipped so quickly?
She wished she could get in a time machine and give her old self a severe shake. It must have just about killed Frankie being on this end of things for so many years because it sucked. Sucked hard.
She froze as Frankie called after her, "Talk to your brother." Frankie leaned out the back room. "He's been a real ass since you let him go. Nobody's been able to hold him. You're the only one, Mandy." He repeated, his voice soft, "You're the one."
She lowered her head and sighed. She'd wanted to hear those words so badly but in a different context. Raising her head, she nodded and left the store. It was time for the grand gesture, no matter the consequences. If she wanted his love, she was going to have to show him in a way he'd understand exactly how serious she was about the two of them being together.
* * *
Mandy pasted a smile on her face and tried not to sweat or look guilty as she stopped in front of the hardware store. Her movements felt about as natural as the Tinman from The Wizard of Oz.
Her plan was only a little bit illegal and nothing would probably even happen if she got caught. Straightening, she entered the hardware store and marched to the paint section. A girl could buy paint—especially a business-owning (well, sorta) gal such as herself—without it being an indicator of some evil plan about to be hatched. Right?
She nodded to herself and carried on.
She grabbed the closest spray can of paint and turned to go pay for it.
Halfway to the register, she paused. How much did a can cover? She checked the can's back. Square footage certainly wasn't helpful. She had no idea how much area she would be covering. She'd better get two cans, just in case. She pivoted on her heel to double back to the shelf and nearly smacked into her mother. Immediately, her face flushed and she hid the can behind her back before mentally taking the boots to herself for acting like an idiot.
"Mandy," her mother said quietly. "What have you got there?"
"A...a..." She pulled the can around in front of her and tried to act sheepish. "A surprise."
Her mom raised her eyebrows. "Oh!" She clasped her hands together after a second. "Are you going to fix my car?"
Mandy gave her mother a look. Of course she wasn't going to fix her red fender with spray paint that was—she checked the can—pink. She smiled and gave her mom a quick hug. "Happy Mother's Day."
"You've got the wrong color and Mother's Day was months ago." Her mom flicked her nails along the various spray cans until she got close to her Impala's color. "How do we tell if it's a match?"
Mandy put the cans back on the shelf and sighed. "You know what? I should talk to Frankie about this."
"Good idea. He's such a smart boy about these things. He was on television and everything."
"Uh, assuming he has the time," Mandy said, shuffling her feet. "He has to go back soon."
Her mother patted Mandy's hand and gave her head a little shake. "You know what?"
"What?" Mandy asked, her eyes on the paint behind her mother. She needed paint. Without paint, there was no plan. No Frankie.
"You take after my mother. Everyone says you take after me, but that's just our hair. You're so much stronger. You aren't afraid to speak up and get what you want." She gave Mandy's hand a squeeze, looking at her with something Mandy hadn't seen before: pride. "So strong," her mother said. "And bold like I never was. My word." She gave a light laugh of astonishment, as if she couldn't qu
ite believe Mandy was her progeny. "You astound me. Just look at you. All grown up and independent and making your place in the world." She held Mandy's hands out at her sides as if they were about to engage in a round of Ring Around the Rosie and looked Mandy up and down. "Always so immaculately dressed. You are so much more than a small town girl. I'm so proud of you, finally seeing that in yourself and making your world open up in front of you."
Mandy stared before managing to say, "Thanks."
"I've never wanted to interfere, Mandy. You get that enough from your father's wife..." Her mother lowered her voice and glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers. She stepped closer to Mandy, which would surely only encourage the eavesdroppers. "Now, what are you going to do about Frankie?"
"What do you mean?" Mandy asked, leaning in closer, despite herself.
"You two would be good together. Terrific, even!" her mom exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air. "You two need to get over whatever it is you need to get over and—"
Mandy put out a hand to stop her mother from continuing. She shook her head.
"Oh." Her mother nodded slowly. "I see."
Mandy crossed her arms and watched the sunlight stream in the store's front door, clearly a sign that she should step toward the light—and away from this conversation.
Her mother placed two cans of black spray paint in Mandy's hands. "Now, go buy your paint." She turned and trundled down the aisle, trilling a hello to someone in the electrical aisle. Mandy stared at the cans of paint, mouth open.
So much for being stealthy.
At the cash register, Trey checked the labels and frowned. "What do you need spray paint for? Hasn't all the painting been done by those city folks?"
Mandy tried to focus on his lips. Maybe she'd understand what he was saying if she could read his lips.
"Your restaurant? Whatcha painting?" He took her money, flipping the bills over and lining them up so they all faced the same way.
"Oh!" She drew in a quick breath, twigging on. "Right! Um, just some projects." She shot him a wink, trying to distract him, but found she just couldn't do it. That Mandy was gone.
