Charlie's Angels

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Charlie's Angels Page 12

by Cheryl St. John


  “Julia Childs, then.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Let it go.”

  “Not until I make you pay for not letting on. And for what you did this afternoon.”

  “You mean for saying Ch—”

  He covered her mouth with his hand, then quickly drew it away and glanced around.

  “It’s just such a sexy name,” she said teasingly.

  He had that look in his eyes, the one she recognized as desire.

  “Gramma!” Meredith squealed. “Grampa!” She shot down from the bench seat and ran toward a couple who had just entered the diner.

  Starla laid down her spoon and dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

  “My folks,” Charlie said, standing to greet them and invite them to share the booth. He sat beside Starla so his folks could slide in together opposite.

  Meredith snuggled on the woman’s lap in delight.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Starla Richards. Starla, my parents.”

  “Call us Marian and Del,” the woman said congenially. “We’re very pleased to meet you. Meredith told me all about you on the phone. She said you were as pretty as an angel.”

  Starla felt her cheeks warm. “I’m pleased to meet you, too.”

  “We’re very thankful that you brought Meredith back safe and sound,” she said. “And so sorry that you had an accident and were injured. Is your head all right?”

  Starla’s fingertips rose self-consciously to the Band-Aid on her forehead. She still had a bruise under her eye. “It’s fine. Just a few stitches.”

  “Well, I hope it doesn’t scar, dear. You’re such a lovely girl.”

  “Thank you, but I’m sure it won’t show.”

  “We were half out of our minds with worry when we got the call about Meredith being missing.” She lowered her face and kissed the little girl’s head. “It’s just too awful to even think of the possibilities.”

  Her eyes misted with tears, and her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We lost a daughter, you know. Meredith and Charlie are very precious to us.”

  “Okay, Mom, this is a Christmas party,” Charlie said. “Let’s get in the spirit.”

  “Wait till you see my program, Gramma,” Meredith said, sitting up and talking animatedly. “I hold up a M and sing and everything.”

  “We can’t wait,” Marian said.

  Del sat forward and folded his hands on the table. “So how’s the soup?”

  “It’s a carb overload, but it’s wonderful,” Starla replied.

  Shirley Rumford took the McGraws’ orders and brought them water and silverware.

  Charlie resumed eating. “What spices do you think are in here, Starla?”

  “Parsley for certain, coarse ground pepper, paprika and cumin.”

  “I love cumin,” Marian said. “Do you cook, dear?”

  “Oh, Starla cooks,” Charlie said pointedly. “She’s a gourmet cook, actually. She’s opening her own restaurant in Maine.”

  “What an accomplishment for one so young,” Marian said.

  “Meaning, where’d you get the big bucks?” Charlie translated with a wry grin.

  “Charles,” his adoptive mother scolded.

  “I drove truck for several years before going to college,” Starla said. “Not much to spend money on when you’re living on the road, so I saved. My dad helped with school.”

  “Well, you should be very proud of yourself. I would love to taste your cooking one of these days.”

  “Me, too,” Charlie said.

  “I made you chicken salad,” she returned.

  “So you did.”

  Marian glanced from Charlie to Starla with a look of interest.

  Starla was grateful to see Shirley bring the McGraws’ food.

  “Meredith, move over now so Gramma can eat,” Charlie said.

  Meredith obediently moved to sit beside her grandmother.

  Starla was warmed by the reciprocal adoration between Meredith and Charlie’s parents. Meredith was a sweet and loving child, and the love and influence of grandparents was a blessing Starla herself had never known. The fact that these were Charlie’s adoptive parents, but his late wife’s biological parents was uppermost on her mind. She couldn’t resist studying them for resemblances to the young woman in the photograph on Meredith’s night table. It was difficult to feel out of place around them, because they were so darned nice.

  The conversation was pleasant, including talk of stranded motorists and holiday plans gone awry. “It doesn’t look as though you’ll be able to get back to your family by Christmas,” Marian said sympathetically. “It’s day after tomorrow.”

  “My dad and I didn’t have plans together this year,” she explained. “I was going to cook for friends, and they’ll get by without me.”

  “Well, if your truck hasn’t been pulled out and you’re still here, we’ll be more than happy to have you with us,” she said. “The local roads should be clear by tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” Starla said, taking pleasure in the woman’s sincere graciousness. “As long as it’s not an inconvenience.”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Gramma, can I come home with you?” Meredith asked.

  Marian turned her attention. “You know that’s up to your dad.”

  “Can I go home with Gramma, Daddy?” Meredith asked hopefully. “I got a toothbrush there.”

  Charlie’s mother smiled at him, waiting for his reply.

  “Sure,” he said, avoiding Starla’s eyes and the hot rush of anticipation at the thought of having her alone for the night. “I do have those deliveries to make. It looks as though my customers will have their gifts for Christmas. I’ll come get you tomorrow when the road to town is open,” he said to his daughter. “You have to be back home with me for Christmas Eve.”

  Meredith giggled with delight and smiled up at her grandmother.

  “We can bake cookies,” Marian said.

  “With sprinkles?”

  “How about gingerbread men with sprinkles?”

  “Oh, yeah!”

  Charlie met Starla’s crystal-blue gaze then, and recognized his anticipation of the night ahead was mutual.

  They lingered over pie and coffee, and once everyone was sufficiently warm and stuffed, they headed back outside where the light was fading. Voices raised in song floated on the cold air.

  “Shall we listen to the carolers for a while?” Charlie pulled up his coat sleeve and glanced at his watch. “We have time before we need to get ready for the program.”

  Meredith surprised Starla by taking her hand as they walked toward the library. Starla glanced back at Marian and Del who followed, and Marian gave her a friendly smile.

  A young woman in a long black coat and red hat met them on the sidewalk.

  “Miss Fenton!” Meredith tugged on Starla’s hand and pulled her forward. “You gots to meet Miss Fenton.”

  “Hi, Meredith.” The woman’s cheeks were pink from the cold.

  Charlie and his parents greeted her, too.

  “This is our town librarian,” Marian said, introducing her. “Clarey, this is Starla Richards.

  “Hi,” Clarey Fenton said. “I was just coming to hear the singers.”

  “That’s where we’re headed,” Marian said. “Come join us.” Charlie’s mom had a way of including everyone and setting people at ease.

  At least twenty singers stood on risers, their voices blending as though they had practiced “Silent Night” well.

  “They’re so good,” Starla said.

  “Most of them are the church choir members,” Charlie offered.

  Their director used a pitch pipe to get them on key for the next song, and those standing around joined in the singing of “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” When Charlie sang along unselfconsciously in a fluid baritone, Starla found it easy to participate. Meredith held her hand on one side and Charlie stood on her other. Starla experienced something she�
�d never known before—a feeling of belonging and of being a part of something important.

  Her restaurant plans were rewarding and she’d enjoyed the challenge and the work. She was anticipating favorable recognition from patrons and reviewers, but somehow this was different. This was community. Families sharing the holiday with tradition and heartfelt emotion.

  The sudden sadness that swept over her seemed out of place at such a time, and she worked to tamp it down. She would only make herself miserable if she let thoughts of isolation take hold.

  A week ago she’d been content with her own Christmas plans. Now they seemed empty. Lonely. Superficial.

  But she had tonight. And tomorrow.

  Chapter Twelve

  The carolers finished with “Adeste Fidelis,” and Starla joined the crowd in applauding and calling out Merry Christmas. The carolers broke apart, and Clarey joined a few who were chatting.

  “Let’s get to the church,” Charlie said.

  Charlie’s parents gave them a ride on their way home to change. Charlie found their bags, and Starla and Meredith joined several other females using classrooms and the rest room as dressing areas.

  Once Meredith was ready and her hair brushed and braided, she said, “Is it okay if I go with my friend now? Do you need me to help you?”

  “No, sweetie, I don’t need any help. You go ahead and see your friend. Just make sure your dad knows where you are.”

  “Okay.” Meredith danced away, her red velvet dress swirling around her knees.

  Starla washed her face and brushed out her hair, then applied makeup, taking special care to conceal the bruising, then changed into her black pants, short jacket and black pumps. She made it a habit to pack for an unexpected occasion, and this outfit was appropriate for dinner or business, so it was her standby ensemble.

  The door to the rest room opened as she was packing her jeans and sweatshirt into her bag and Ryanne entered, dressed in a stylish crème-colored dress and flat shoes. She was a lovely young woman, and pregnancy seemed to agree with her. Her gaze took in Starla’s appearance. “Oh, my.”

  Starla glanced down at her clothing, then in the mirror. “Am I dressed all right?”

  “You’re dressed perfectly. I’m just—well, you’re so striking. I feel like the Goodyear blimp next to you.”

  Starla laughed. “I was thinking how pretty you looked.”

  “Thanks. But right now I have to take care of something for about the hundredth time today.” She headed quickly for a stall.

  “I’ll see you later,” Starla called and picked up her things.

  She stored them where Charlie had before and made her way along a corridor and into a foyer filled with mingling townspeople. Heads turned immediately.

  Charlie had been watching for her, but he wouldn’t have needed to. He knew the instant Starla appeared, because a hush fell over the gathering, and attention shifted.

  So he wasn’t crazy and it wasn’t only he who thought she was the most incredible-looking woman who’d ever graced the state of Iowa with her presence. He hurried toward her, knowing she’d feel uncomfortable at the attention.

  She wore a black pantsuit that made her look even taller and slimmer than ever. Her skin and hair seemed to glow, and the effect of the makeup she wore made her extraordinary eyes even more striking. He couldn’t shake the impression that she looked like a supermodel who’d just stepped off a runway.

  As lovely as those eyes were, uncertainty and hesitation filled them when he reached her. He didn’t touch her, because he didn’t want to cast speculation on the two of them, but he stood close and gestured for her to walk beside him.

  “This is Starla Richards,” he said to the nearest bystanders. And, one by one, he introduced her to the people of Elmwood, hoping to put her at ease.

  Leta Ruby worked at Three B’s Bar waiting tables evenings and weekends, but she never missed Sunday service or a social event. She was somewhere in her forties with a teenage son who occasionally accompanied her.

  Charlie had introduced her to Starla, and Leta was extolling Charlie’s virtues. “This is a good man,” she told Starla while patting Charlie’s arm, “and believe me I can spot ’em. Some of ’em waste their evenings drinkin’ and playin’ pool and you gotta wonder what their homelife is like. Well, you can usually figure that. I don’t see Charlie here, ’cept at church, and he always has that sweet little girl with him.”

  Starla smiled and nodded.

  “Such a shame, losing Kendra that way,” she said. “The whole town was just in shock over her death and we still feel so bad for Charlie.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Your life has never been the same, has it, sweetie? She was always your special girl.”

  Charlie didn’t have a reply, but his reaction was anger at Leta for expressing words and feelings on his behalf. How the hell did the meddling busybody know how he felt? Typical of the assumptions that ran rampant in this town.

  Music began playing in the sanctuary, and the crowd slowly dispersed and took seats. Charlie let Leta’s words go. She only meant well, no matter how off the mark her assumptions were. His own guilt and frustration were beneath the anger, and those weren’t her fault. Leta assumed the best of him. That was her mistake.

  He had taken Meredith to her Sunday school room where the teacher was organizing the children, so it was just him and Starla beside his folks in the pew.

  He carefully held his expressions in check when he looked at her and had made a point not to touch her in front of people. The last thing he wanted to encourage was a tidal wave of gossip, though just having her at his side was probably enough to have started the floodwaters flowing.

  The program began with a prayer and a song, then the robed choir moved in procession down the aisle to the back to give the stage to the children. The students put on their production of the first Christmas and the smaller kids sang. Meredith proudly held up her cardboard M, which helped spell Merry Christmas, and Charlie’s mom reached over to squeeze his hand.

  She had tears on her cheeks, tears of pride in her granddaughter, tears of hurt and loss at not having her daughter there to share. He held her hand and swallowed his own disappointments, reburied feelings of guilt and inadequacy.

  After the program, coffee and cookies were served in the fellowship hall. Meredith ran to wrap her arms around his knees. “Did you see me, Daddy?”

  “I saw you.” She let go and he knelt to wrap her in his arms for a hug. “I love you with my whole heart.”

  “I love you with my whole heart, too, Daddy.”

  Charlie kissed her cheek and picked her up.

  “Starla, did you see me?” she asked.

  “I sure did. You were great. And you knew all the words to the songs, too.”

  Marian approached them then. “Grandpa is ready to go, sweetie. I have your bag and your coat all ready.”

  Meredith gave Charlie a quick kiss. “Bye, Daddy. I got to go with Gramma now.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, setting her on her feet. “You be a good girl.”

  Marian took her hand and they headed for the hall leading to the foyer.

  “I suppose I should be seeing about our ride,” Charlie said. “Russ will have several people to take home and we need to get on the schedule.”

  Starla nodded. “Go ahead. I’m enjoying the coffee.”

  A few minutes later he returned to find her chatting with Ryanne and Birdy Nichols. “Russ has the sleigh ready to go. He was just pulling up when I went to look for him. “I’ll get your things.”

  “It was great to meet you,” Starla said to the two women and followed him.

  This time the other passengers for the sleigh ride were the Spaulding sisters, twins in their thirties who ran the local greenhouse and lived in town. “We just made Russel take us for a ride for the fun of it,” Ashton told Charlie.

  He introduced Starla to Ashton and Elyssa.

  Moonlight sparkled on the snow, bathing the countryside in a
n ethereal glow. The bells on the horses’ harnesses rang out, and the Spaulding sisters sang “Here Comes Santa Claus” in an off-key duet. Laughing, Starla joined in.

  Charlie found himself looking at her more than the scenery. She was the most fascinating and fun woman he’d had the pleasure to know. She had her little insecurities, which he’d picked up on and which he couldn’t quite comprehend at first because of her extraordinary looks. However, a measure of understanding had dawned that day. Her beauty was part of her hang-up.

  He’d seen the way some of the women looked at her as though she was a threat or a competitor. And he’d definitely noticed the way men looked at her. All of them had shown appreciation, but a couple had worn downright lecherous expressions. What was it she’d said when he’d called her beautiful? Beauty is relative. And superficial. And sometimes an affliction. Affliction. At the time, he’d thought it was an odd thing to say, but he understood more clearly now.

  Charlie’s house came into view, and it wasn’t long until Russel reined in the horse in the yard.

  “Thanks, Russ,” Charlie said. “Thanks to you we didn’t miss the celebration.”

  “Glad to do it,” he replied.

  The Spaulding sisters waved and everyone called out a Merry Christmas.

  They trudged through the snow to the door and once in the house shed their coats and boots. Starla still wore her black pantsuit.

  “I’ll start a fire,” Charlie said.

  “Want coffee?” she asked.

  “I was thinking about wine. Grab one out of the rack.”

  She returned with a bottle and two glasses and he noticed her shiver. “Cold?”

  She rubbed her arms. “The air went right through my coat on the ride home.”

  “I have an idea. To warm up.”

  “What is it?”

  “We’re alone tonight. We can take the wine in the other room and use the Whirlpool. We can enjoy the fire later.”

  “Sounds…delicious.”

  Charlie picked up the wine and glasses and headed toward the hallway. “I’ll start the water.”

  She hurried up the stairs. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  He had stepped into the full tub and nearly sent the bubbles cascading over the edge when she came in and shut the door behind her. She’d changed into a long silky white dressing gown.

 

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