by Hope Ramsay
Charlene looked down at her feet. She hadn’t taken off her heavy-duty rubber boots, the ones she always wore when she went tramping through barns and fields. Her boots were dirty up to the ankles with dried muck. They definitely smelled like barn, but that particular odor never bothered Charlene. She liked eau de cow.
Even so, her whole body went hot, right down to the ends of her hair. Damn. How could she allow a stupid comment from an idiot man to embarrass her? Her boots were a necessary part of her job. She often wore them around town on Thursdays. And no one had ever said a word to her about it before.
She turned toward Sabina, trying not to grind her teeth. “I came for the pen,” she said.
Sabina snagged an oblong box from the shelf behind the counter. The box was teal-colored with the words “Waterman Fountain Pen” printed along the top. She placed it on the counter and opened the top to reveal a black pen with a brass clip and ink lever. It was in immaculate condition. The box even contained the original paper instructions that came with the pen.
“Daddy is going to love this.”
“I’m sure he is. So what do you think of Mike Taggart?”
“Not much,” Charlene said, reaching into her purse for her wallet. “Why was he here? He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who loves antiques.”
“I think Elsie Campbell sent him,” Sabina said with a laugh as she took Charlene’s Visa card.
“What? Why would Elsie send him here?”
“Honey, you don’t know the political maneuvering that goes on inside the Methodist Altar Guild. The girls have all decided that it’s past time for the preacher to get married. And since I’m the only single woman of marriageable age who’s a member of the guild, naturally they think I should make a play for Pastor Tim.” She rolled her eyes. “But, you know, I really don’t feel any sparks in that department. The guy is really handsome but kind of a dork at times.” She sighed mightily as she swiped the Visa card.
“But I still don’t get it. What does Mike have to do with the Altar Guild?”
“We’ve adopted him, sort of. The prevailing view is that Mike’s story is true and that his only motive for being here is to find a family for the little girl. Which is why Elsie told him that I would make the perfect wife for Pastor Tim.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. So Mike came in here pretending to shop, but really he was checking me out. And then he engaged me in a conversation that felt a whole lot like a job interview.”
“Really?”
She nodded and handed Charlene her credit card and the sales receipt to sign. “It’s kind of cute, you know?”
“Cute? You think it’s cute? It’s annoying and… I don’t know, wrong or something.” She handed Sabina the signed receipt.
“I don’t know. The idea that he would come here and try to find the perfect family for his niece is sweet, actually. He could have chosen to turn his back on the little girl.”
“But that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s turning his back on her. He’s come here to leave Rainbow on the church’s doorstep.”
“No, I don’t think so. Why would he still be here? Besides, how can he abandon Rainbow if she’s only been in his custody for less than a week? It’s not like he fathered this child. He didn’t even have to take custody of her. He could have left her to the foster care system. That would have been wrong. But taking custody, bringing her here, and trying to find a family for her—that’s not abandonment in my book. And he seemed hell bent to get my entire life history.”
“Really?”
Sabina nodded. “Yeah. He’s completely misguided, of course. But his heart’s in the right place.”
Tim sat in the middle of a white leather couch in Dr. Andrea Newsome’s office. The therapist sat facing him from behind a big desk with brass fittings. To the left, in a corner of the room, stood a low table where Rainbow sat quietly coloring a picture.
She’d just spent the last forty-five minutes with the doctor. Now it was Tim’s turn, and he wondered how much of his own inner confusion he should admit.
He wanted to reveal himself to the woman in front of him. She had an open, kind face with widely spaced brown eyes.
“So,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. She had good, capable hands devoid of fancy polish. “How do you feel about this turn of events?”
How did he feel? “Confused,” he admitted.
She nodded. “That’s understandable. So are you going to check out Mike Taggart’s story?”
He looked down at his hands. “Can I be honest?”
“Honesty is what I’m looking for, Reverend Lake.”
He looked up at her. “Please, call me Tim.”
“All right.”
“I don’t want to check out Mike Taggart’s story. I’m afraid to.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “If what he says is true then my parents lied to me.”
“All parents lie. You know that, don’t you?”
He looked up, frowning. “That’s a cynical view.”
“No, it’s not. Parents lie about all kinds of things. Mostly to protect their kids. They don’t tell children the truth about death. Sickness. Poverty. They make up stories about Santa Claus.”
“Yes, but this is a bigger lie than that.”
“Is it? Or did your father merely want to protect you from the fact that your birth mother was an alcoholic? That he once had a problem with addiction?”
He looked over at Rainbow. “Mike said I owed him something. He seems to be very angry with me. Or maybe it’s Dad he’s so angry with.”
“That makes perfect sense. Your father abandoned him. That’s tough on a kid. He’s probably jealous of the life you got to lead.”
Tim snapped his gaze back to the doctor. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”
She laughed. The sound seemed to find its way inside. What a remarkably joyful sound. “No. I don’t try to make people feel guilty. That’s not what my profession is all about. But I suppose that doesn’t exactly hold true for yours, does it?”
“So you’re saying that I’ve built my career on guilt, huh?”
Something mischievous danced in her eyes. Tim already knew Andrea didn’t regularly attend church. “Well, I certainly sat through any number of sermons as a child in a Catholic household where the priest intended to make me feel guilty. And I rebelled against that. I believe guilt is a waste of time. So you shouldn’t feel guilty about what your father did. The question is what are you going to do now to positively affect Rainbow’s future?”
He let go of a big sigh. “I don’t know. I can see where I might be in a position to give her a more stable upbringing. But I don’t have the first idea of how to care for a child. I’m not even sure I’d make a good parent. And then there’s the matter of the cat. Mike seems to think that separating the child from her cat would be traumatic.”
Andrea nodded. “First of all, Tim, everyone who has ever become a parent enters into that role with trepidation. And as for the cat, I think we need to give that issue a few days. For now I think stability is what she needs.”
Dr. Newsome unfolded her hands. “Let’s talk about Rainbow for a moment. First, I can tell you unequivocally that she is not faking it. She has definitely suffered some kind of traumatic experience. I don’t know if it’s merely related to the violent death of her mother or if she’s been abused. She’s showing signs of regression. And I would imagine that she’s probably having bad dreams. So, do you think Mike has harmed the child in any way?”
Tim looked down at the carpet. It was a calming shade of green. He closed his eyes and prayed for a moment before he looked up. “I don’t believe Mike Taggart is the kind of person who hurts little children. I think he genuinely wants her to have a good home.” He paused for a moment before he went on. “Of course I sometimes think Mike is a con man. And then I don’t know what to think. This situation is ripping me apart.”
Dr. Newsome gave him an empathetic look that was a
lmost like a balm. “We need to make sure that he’s not hurting Rainbow. So you will need to run a background check on him. And if you won’t do that, then I will do it myself. I would also like to meet Mike. In these cases, it’s important to start by ensuring the child is safe. We can’t make any progress with psychotherapy if she’s not.”
“I agree.”
“And, Tim, while I fully understand your conflicted feelings, I can’t allow you to drag your feet on this one thing. If you won’t take the steps to verify Mike Taggart’s story, then I will. Because the girl has been traumatized. And it’s my job to make sure that the authorities know if she’s currently being abused.”
“I understand. But, please, don’t call them yet. I promise. I’ll check him out as soon as possible.”
On Saturday, Charlene met her best friend, Amanda Wright, at the Garden of Eatin’, a new café that had just opened up in the old Coca Cola bottling plant. The café provided food for those visiting the art galleries and studios that now occupied the building. The eatery was trendy for Last Chance. The decor looked like something straight from Columbia or Atlanta, with light wood floors, white linens, and Ball jars filled with wildflowers on every table. Unlike other restaurants in town, the Garden of Eatin’ didn’t serve barbecue or fried chicken. It did, however, serve a nice selection of wines and fabulous low-cal salads.
An important factor, because Amanda’s wedding was slated for mid-August, and both Charlene and her best friend still needed to shed a few pounds to fit into their dresses.
“Do you think orchids or roses?” Amanda asked as she sipped her glass of Chardonnay.
“I like roses,” Charlene said.
“Orchids are classier.”
“But more expensive. Honey, you don’t have to impress Grant with orchids. He loves you, and he’s totally down to earth. I wish there were more guys like him around.” Charlene took a big sip of her wine. It tasted cold and tangy on her tongue.
“Don’t be glum. You’re going to catch someone someday. And it will happen when you least expect it. Just look at what happened with Grant and me.”
“Actually, there is one guy who fits the bill. But he’s my boss.”
“You need to give up on Dr. Dave.” Amanda’s face sobered. It wouldn’t be the first time that best friends had a difference of opinion about a man.
“Why?” Charlene asked.
“Because if it hasn’t happened yet between you and Dave, it’s never going to.”
“You’re probably right,” Charlene said. “The truth is I no longer believe Prince Charming is ever going to waltz into my life when I least expect him. The clock is ticking, and pretty soon what’s left of me won’t be worth much. According to my master plan, I was supposed to find Mr. Right and have a few babies before I turned thirty.”
Of course, she had made those plans as a nineteen-year-old, on that horrible day when she’d done what her parents wanted. She had told herself that there would be other babies for her. She had told herself that Derrick could never be Mr. Right—not if Daddy was able to buy him off so easily.
She’d been patient all these years. Looking for the love of her life. But he’d eluded her. And she’d finally come to realize that she had a weakness for guys who either couldn’t commit or, like Dave, were beyond her reach.
“Honey, life has some wild twists and turns in it sometimes. I didn’t expect to lose Tom or be a single mom for such a long time. And I sure didn’t expect to find Grant the way I did. You just have to keep on being patient.”
“Yeah.” Charlene took another sip of the wine she shouldn’t have ordered because it wasn’t on her diet. She stared through the big windows at Palmetto Avenue. Her life had not gone the way she’d expected it.
Amanda leaned in and spoke forcefully. “I can see exactly where your mind is wandering off to. Stop it right now. We’re not going to dwell on the past. So I’m changing the subject. What’s the scoop on your new neighbor? The Methodists are in an uproar.”
Great. She didn’t want to discuss Mike Taggart. Sabina’s comments about him last Thursday had wormed into her brain, making her second-guess herself. And every time she saw Rainbow, all her deep-down maternal urges came roaring through. She’d seen the little girl a couple of times, going and coming from the apartment next door.
There had been no further tantrums. Aside from Rainbow’s crazy, wild hairdo and the fact that the child rarely smiled and never laughed, she seemed to be well cared for.
“I don’t know the scoop on Mike Taggart. And I really don’t want to talk about him.”
“Whoa! What’s the deal?”
“I’m not a busybody like Aunt Millie.”
“Don’t BS me.”
Charlene put her wine glass down and stared at the daisies in the center of the table. “The little girl—his niece, Rainbow—she’s… so sad. And Mike Taggart is…” She didn’t exactly know how to explain Mike. He gave off serious bad-boy vibes. She’d been convinced he didn’t care about the child. But Sabina had helped her see a different side of him. He had certainly managed to charm the Methodist church ladies.
“What?” Amanda asked in a whisper, pulling Charlene back into the conversation.
“I don’t know. The other morning I saw him carrying the little girl over his shoulder while she threw a temper tantrum. It was an ugly scene.”
Amanda gave her one of those best-friend stares before she said, “Obviously you’re not a parent. Just remember you can’t always judge a parent by the behavior of their child. Sometimes hauling a kid over your shoulder is the only damn way to get them into their car seat.” Amanda had a five-year-old son named Ethan who had been born a few months after his daddy had been killed in Afghanistan, so Amanda knew the ins and outs of parenthood.
“It certainly looked like he was abusing her,” Charlene said. “But then I heard the Altar Guild is completely down with his plan to hand the little girl off to Pastor Tim. In fact, they have gone into a matchmaking tizzy, and they’ve even enlisted Mike’s help. Sabina told me that he went down to the antiques mall and practically interviewed her for the job of mother.”
Amanda giggled. “He sounds kind of sweet.”
“Believe me, there is nothing sweet about Mike Taggart.”
“How old is Rainbow?”
“Five maybe. She’s of mixed race,” Charlene added as an afterthought and immediately regretted her words.
Amanda leaned forward, an avid look on her face. “Ah, I see. She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?”
Charlene shrugged. “I guess.”
“There’s no guessing about it.”
“Okay, I’ll accept that. But it doesn’t change the fact that I feel like the little girl is in trouble. I want to do something to help her. But I have no clue. And thinking about helping her has me kind of scared.”
“Scared?”
“I don’t know a thing about kids. What makes me think I could help this little girl? And besides, we both know the reason I want to help is all screwed up to begin with.” Charlene looked out the window and clamped her back teeth together. She’d already said too much.
Amanda had the good sense not to say a single word. Instead she reached out and patted Charlene’s hand. Amanda knew all of her secrets. They had been friends since grade school.
“I need to do something,” Charlene said. “But what? I mean, I’m not the kind of person who brings over a cake or a pie. And I wouldn’t want him to think I was flirting with him, because I heard that he’s a professional gambler, and I’m sure money is the only thing he worships. I’ve sworn off guys like that.”
“Guys like Derrick?”
Charlene gave her best friend a sober stare. “Yes. And Phillip the stockbroker from Charleston, and John the real estate lawyer from Atlanta, and Erik the plastic surgeon from Columbia.”
“Good girl. It’s important to learn from your failures.”
“And there are so many.”
“So this has nothing to do w
ith the guy. It’s all about the kid, right?” Amanda asked.
“I guess. I feel this compulsion to get involved. It’s probably some deep-seated guilt.”
“Probably.”
“So I should stay away?”
“You won’t, Charlene.”
“But what should I do?”
“Take her a present. It sounds like she’s had a pretty rough time of it. She deserves a little present.”
“Like what? I have no idea what a little girl might want.”
“Pete the Cat.”
“What?”
“It’s a book. Just go to Flights of Fancy Bookstore in Allenberg and ask them about it. Get them to teach you the song that goes with it. It’s a book about a cat that doesn’t let anything bother him. He’s cool and adaptable. The book has a wonderful message about going with the flow. Maybe it will help the little girl. And it will probably get you through the door and give you an opportunity to read to her. You can tell a lot about what’s going on with a kid if you read to them. And I think you need to do it for yourself, as much as for her.”
“But it’s not my place.”
“Of course it is. It takes a village to raise a child,” Amanda said, flashing her dimples.
“I want to.”
“Of course you do. And you should. She needs a friend, and you need to channel your guilt into something worthwhile.”
“I do?”
Amanda laughed and waved her hand at the waitress. “Yeah, you do. Trust me. So let’s get the check, and I’ll take you to the bookstore myself. You’ll love this book the minute you read it.”
And with that, Amanda took charge of Charlene’s life.
CHAPTER
7
Mike discovered the playground at the elementary school on his way back from the BI-LO. It had a spiral slide, a crawl tube, a bunch of climbing structures, and a big sandbox. Rainbow didn’t like the crawl tube, but she took to the sandbox. They spent several hours there on Friday. On Saturday he purchased a bunch of inexpensive sand toys at Dollar General, and Rainbow spent most of the afternoon making a sand castle with a little help from Timmy, who joined them in the afternoon.
