Unsure of what seven-year-olds liked to eat, Daphne set out apple slices and cheese and ginger snaps as well as a glass of milk.
“Wow.” Mabel sat down at the table. “This is a really nice snack.”
“Well, you worked hard.” Daphne sat across from her. “Eat up.”
Mabel eagerly ate as Daphne nibbled and watched with curiosity. The child was clearly hungry. “Who fixes food at your grandma’s house?”
Mabel shrugged as she chewed.
Daphne told Mabel about how her mom died when she was even younger than Mabel . . . and how Daphne learned to cook at a young age. “So I could take care of my daddy and me.”
“My dad’s in prison.”
“Oh . . .” Daphne sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“And my mom,” Mabel spoke quietly, as if she wasn’t sure. “Well, she’s like your mom.”
Daphne felt a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Mabel.”
“Grandma says she’s with the angels.” Mabel picked up an apple slice. “But I wish she was still here with me.”
“I know how you feel.”
After Mabel had eaten enough, they went back outside and loaded the wheelbarrow with seven pumpkins—since Mabel was seven—as well as a nice selection of produce Daphne hoped the grandmother would know how to fix. Then as the sky was turning rosy and dusky, Daphne helped Mabel push the wheelbarrow down to the blue house.
As they walked, Mabel chattered away happily. It was obvious she’d enjoyed their afternoon and that a new friendship was being formed. A friendship that would require more than Daphne was used to giving—and yet she didn’t feel concerned. In fact, she was looking forward to getting better acquainted with Mabel.
Chapter 17
The next morning as Daphne did some overdue housecleaning, she was still thinking about Mabel. Since it was Friday, Mabel would probably be in school right now. Still, Daphne wondered what she might possibly do to help the child. She wanted to think of ways to be involved without being overly intrusive. It was clear that Mabel needed some help with her personal hygiene and clothes. And who knew what the child was eating? Daphne was so caught up in thinking about Mabel, that she was totally surprised when Sabrina showed up at her door, reminding her that they had made plans for a girls’ day out today. “And you do not look the least bit ready for it.” Sabrina frowned.
“I’m so sorry.” Daphne set the dusting cloth down. “I’ll run and change right now. It won’t take but five minutes. I promise.”
“Well, at least put on something cute and festive,” Sabrina called up the stairs. “I’m taking us to a pretty swanky place.”
Daphne hurried to clean up and dress. Why had she agreed to this little outing? Oh, it wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea of furniture shopping or being with Sabrina. It was just that she would rather stay home. She would rather clean house and work in the garden and write in her book than get dressed up and go “out.” This was probably the result of being such a hermit and cloistering herself up like she’d done these past weeks. Not unlike Stockholm syndrome (something she’d written about in her novel) but in this scenario, she was her own prison keeper. For that reason alone, she knew she needed to get out. It’s just that she didn’t want to.
“I’m sorry, kitties,” she told Lucy and Ethel before she went downstairs. “I won’t be back for a while.” Daphne was fully aware of how pathetic and boring her homebody life might appear to the casual onlooker (like Dad or Sabrina). Here she was talking to cats and preferring housework to lunching with a friend—gladly settling for her hermit lifestyle. But the isolation didn’t concern her that much. Perhaps that was because deep down inside she felt worried that it was all going to disappear soon. Next May to be exact. Daphne’s real fear was that when her most-pressing deadline arrived—and she would still be unmarried—this peaceful simple life would all go up in smoke. She would be forced to leave Aunt Dee’s house and everything else behind. But just like Scarlett O’Hara, Daphne didn’t have to think about that today.
As Sabrina drove them to Fairview, Daphne told Sabrina all about their young catnapping neighbor and her rather tragic little life.
“Oh, my. The poor thing.” Sabrina shook her head. “Do you think there’s anything we can do to help her?”
“I hope so. Mabel’s really a sweetheart.”
“Mabel? Her name is Mabel?”
“Yes.” Daphne chuckled. “Seems an unusual name for a little girl.”
“Sounds like an old lady’s name.”
“Although it kind of suits her too.” Daphne told Sabrina about the pumpkins and how excited Mabel was to take home seven of them. “But I really want to do more for her. It’s obvious that her grandmother is unable to properly care for her.” She described Mabel’s hair and clothes and how hungry she seemed. “Maybe after we find your couch, we can stop by a Walmart or something and pick up a few things for Mabel.”
“Maybe so.” Sabrina described where they were going to lunch. “I read about it online. It sounded really good. I got us a reservation and put it into my GPS so we won’t get lost.” A few minutes later, Sabrina pulled up to what looked like a very nice restaurant.
“This is so chic and uptown,” Daphne said as they were being seated. “I almost feel like I’m in Manhattan.”
“That’s right, you lived in Manhattan.”
“Well, not actually Manhattan. I lived in Brooklyn. But I worked in Manhattan.”
Sabrina listened attentively as Daphne described working for The Times and what it was like living in New York.
“That must’ve been so exciting.”
“It was,” Daphne admitted. “At first anyway. I had big dreams. But then I got kind of stuck . . . after I got my heart broke.”
“With Ryan?”
Daphne blinked in surprise. She was shocked Sabrina could even remember his name. She’d told her a little bit of the Ryan story a couple of weeks ago over coffee.
“And then you really didn’t date much after him?”
“Yeah. It took a while to get over that. For years I still imagined that Ryan was the love of my life.”
“Until he showed up in Appleton.” Sabrina grinned.
“Yes. Funny how a small town can show a guy’s true colors much more effectively than a big city. It’s like people can hide themselves in the busyness of New York. You think you know them . . . but you really don’t. At least that’s how it seemed to me.”
“Atlanta was a little like that for me. So different from the sweet little town I grew up in. I suppose I was a lot like you . . . pretty naive.”
“At least you had more experience with men. Sounds like you dated a lot before marrying Edward.”
“I suppose, but that didn’t seem to help my judgment much.” Sabrina shared a little more about her family and growing up with a distant father, who she later learned was having affairs. “I guess it kind of affected my radar about guys in general. At least that’s what my shrink told me.”
“You went to a psychiatrist?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I pretty much flipped out after I realized I’d never have kids. Even having Tootsie didn’t help that much. So Edward made me see a shrink. But she was actually pretty good.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
Sabrina smiled. “I guess so. But doesn’t that make us who we are? Anyway that’s what Pastor Andrew said last Sunday. Right?”
“That’s right. I keep reminding myself of that line. I even wrote it on an index card and stuck it on my fridge. ‘Focus on each step of the journey and eventually you’ll reach your final destination.’”
After a thoroughly delightful lunch, Daphne found she was eager to help Sabrina find the perfect sofa. After a couple of hours of shopping, they discovered a furniture store with lots of good options, and it didn’t take long until they both agreed on a traditio
nal design in a celery green chenille. “This will be gorgeous with your area rug,” Daphne told her.
“And everything else in there. So much better than that oversized sectional.”
Before long the sofa was written up, paid for, and arranged for delivery, and Sabrina and Daphne were on their way.
“Perfect,” Sabrina proclaimed as they exited the store. “I think we should celebrate.” She pointed to a brick building across the street. “McMahan’s,” she said eagerly. “That’s my maiden name! We have to go there.”
As they went inside, Daphne could tell it was a brewery, but Sabrina seemed so excited about finding this place that Daphne just went with the flow, following Sabrina to a pub table and sitting down.
“Why is there a number on the table?” Daphne asked as she picked up the folded card with a nine penned on it.
Sabrina made a funny face, then shrugged. “Maybe it’s for the waiter.”
“Or maybe this table is reserved for someone.” Daphne looked around but all the tables had numbers. Sabrina might be right.
“Or maybe they’re playing some kind of game.” Sabrina picked up the drinks menu. “You know for happy hour, I remember being at a place where they had this elimination game and you won prizes like free pizza. It was really fun.”
“Oh yeah.” Daphne nodded. “That makes sense.”
“What do you want to drink?” Sabrina asked. “Looks like they have a huge selection of beers.”
“I’ll just have coffee,” Daphne told her.
“Good idea,” Sabrina agreed as the waiter approached. “Two coffees, please. With cream and sugar. Thanks.”
It wasn’t long until he returned with their coffees. “You guys here for the—”
“That’s right,” Sabrina said quickly. “We’re here for all the festivities.”
“Will there be prizes?” Daphne asked.
His brow creased. “Well, I guess some people might think they’ve won a prize. But from what I’ve seen in the past, you usually go home with a—”
“Could I get some Sweet’N Low?” Sabrina asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“I didn’t know you liked sugar substitutes,” Daphne said as the waiter left.
“Sometimes I do.” She patted her midsection. “Especially after a big lunch like we had today.”
The room was starting to fill as the waiter returned with some packets and the noise level was increasing. “Looks like this is a popular place.” Daphne stirred cream into her coffee.
Sabrina looked uneasy now, as if something was wrong.
“Do you feel okay?” Daphne asked her.
Sabrina bit her lower lip. “I have to explain something.”
“What is it?”
Sabrina picked up the card with the nine on it. “This is your number.”
“We can share it,” Daphne said.
“No.” Sabrina pointed to a nearby table where no one was sitting. “That’s my number. I’m ten.”
“Ten?” Daphne was confused.
“You see . . .” Sabrina made a nervous laugh. “We each get our own table in this game.”
Daphne frowned. “What kind of game is this?”
“Have you ever heard of speed dating?”
“Speed dating?”
Sabrina winced. “Yeah. It seemed like a fun idea.”
“What are—?”
“It’s a quick, easy way to meet some available bachelors, Daphne. I knew you would never agree to it, so I took the liberty of arranging it myself.” She glanced at her watch. “It will begin in about five minutes and—”
“You cannot be serious. You signed me up for speed dating without even telling me?”
“I knew you’d act like this,” Sabrina said quietly. “But just you wait, when it’s all over with, you’ll be thanking me.”
Daphne was flabbergasted. “Are you saying that you cooked this whole day up? Needing a new sofa? Offering to take me to lunch? Driving over here? Just so we could do this?”
“I did need a new sofa. And I wanted to have lunch with you. You’ve been way too much of a hermit and—”
“But you lied to me, Sabrina.”
“Just a teeny-weeny little white lie.” Sabrina held her thumb and forefinger barely apart. “I didn’t know how else to get you here.”
Daphne narrowed her eyes. “And I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend. You know I am. But I really wanted to do this. And I felt certain you would want to do it too. Except that you’d act like this. I mean, as much as I love you, honey, and I surely do, you can be such a stick-in-the-mud sometimes.”
“A stick-in-the-mud?” Daphne blinked.
“Oh, you know how you are. If left to your own devices, you might never meet Mr. Right. Can you blame me for trying to give you a little ol’ boost?”
“A boost? Or a kick in the—”
“It’s only because I love you, Daphne. And I don’t want to lose you as my neighbor. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you across the street.” She smiled hopefully. “Please, don’t be mad.” She tipped her head to where a couple of guys were coming in the door. “And check out some of the guys you’re going to meet. Don’t they look like they might be worthwhile?”
Daphne just shook her head.
“And think about it. Each fellow will only take five minutes of your time. Remember how much you hated that date with Dr. Tony? How you said it lasted forever? Well, this is a quick, painless way to avoid—”
“Can I have your attention?” A middle-aged man by the bar was ringing a bell and slowly the room quieted and everyone was looking at him. “Welcome to McMahan’s Fourth Friday Fast Finds.” He chuckled. “Otherwise known as speed dating. For those of you who are new here, I will share the ground rules. Women, you should already know your number and you should be seated at your table. Men, you have your cards with numbers and time slots. It is up to you to find the right table at the appropriate time. Each mini date will last exactly five minutes. No more, no less. If you know you want to get better acquainted with someone, you simply request his or her phone number. But then you must move on. Is that clear? No lingering at a table just because you want to. Anyone who doesn’t play by the rules will be eliminated.”
Everyone acknowledged that was clear, and giving Daphne a quick wink, Sabrina moved to her table. Daphne had never really known the meaning of the old adage “fit to be tied,” but that was just how she felt right now, like they’d have to tie her down to keep her here.
The man rang the bell again. “Whenever you hear this bell ringing like this, fellows, you know it’s time to move on. I’ll give you one minute to get to your next table, but when you hear that bell ring again, it’s time to begin. And don’t forget, since I’m the owner of this pub, if anyone needs a drink or a refill, just hold up your hand and the waiter will see to you.” He held up a stein of beer as he looked over the crowd with a big grin. “You’re a great-looking bunch of kids. Here’s to you finding the love of your life tonight!” He clanged the bell. “Let the games begin!”
Chapter 18
Before Daphne could jump down from her stool and make a quick exit, a bookish-looking young man with dark, curly hair and tortoise-framed glasses sat across from her. “Hi, uh, Number Nine,” he said in a nervous tone. “I, uh, I’m Jack Brandt.” He stuck out his hand to shake hers. “I’m, uh, I’m happy to make your, uh, your acquaintance.”
“I’m Daphne Ballinger.” She peeled her hand away from his slightly sweaty palm. “Nice to meet you too.” Okay, she felt sorry for him now. “To be perfectly honest, I’m kind of in shock about this speed-dating thing. You see, my friend over there, Number Ten, she sort of kidnapped me into coming here today. I had no idea we were doing this. She got me to come to Fairview under the guise of sofa shopping, if you can believe
it.”
He looked worried. “Oh, so you don’t really want to find someone here? Want me to go, then?”
“No, that’s okay.” She shook her head. “Remember what the emcee said. You have to play by the rules or get eliminated.” She forced a smile. “And you probably don’t want to risk that. Anyway, you seem like a nice guy. So why don’t we just play along. Go ahead and tell me about yourself.”
“Oh . . . yeah . . . well, there’s not much to tell. I graduated from college last spring, but the only job I can find is in a convenience store. I live in my mom’s basement and I—”
“Hang on, Jack.” She held up her hand to stop him. “If you want to succeed at this speed-dating thing, you might need to sound a little more positive about yourself and your life.”
He looked slightly confused. “How do I do that? I don’t want to lie. I mean, I am what I am. If a girl doesn’t like that, she—”
“Why don’t you start by telling me about something you really enjoy doing?”
He frowned as if thinking hard. “Well, I do play the banjo. I like that. And I really like folk music and bluegrass.”
“Really? Are you in a band or anything?”
“Some of my buddies and me—we’ve just started up this bluegrass band. We’ve had a couple of gigs already and it’s been pretty fun.” It was like she’d uncorked him and he went on telling her about how they wanted to record an album and attend some of the folk festivals around the country.
“That sounds very cool,” she told him just as the bell clanged. “Now, if you just talk about that kind of thing—not your mom’s basement—you might garner some interest.”
“Thank you. That was really helpful. But you never got a chance to tell me about your—”
“Move on,” a muscular guy with a shaved head was telling Jack. “Time’s up, bud.”
Jack vacated the stool and Mr. Baldy sat down, grinning widely at Daphne. He was just telling her his name, but the bell rang and she didn’t quiet catch it. “I live over on the west side,” he said quickly. “In a condo I bought a few years ago. It was a short sale so I got a killer deal on it. I work at Bob Brown Motors. In sales. I’m only thirty and the youngest sales manager Brown’s ever had. But that’s because I was top salesman for three years running.”
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