by Pamela Tracy
It was what Amy expected to hear. What she didn't expect was the rush of emotion, the letdown, the fear. She didn't want to be attracted to someone who had no roots, someone who could leave on a whim.
And Daniel was the first man in a long, long time that Amy had felt any attraction to.
Still, keeping her face serene, Amy nodded. Daniel's ex-girlfriend didn't need to know the emotions battling inside Amy.
But, lately, since coming to Pecan, she'd been thinking she'd found her picket fence, or at least the start of one. Was she ready to hammer those pickets in for good? There'd come a time when she would want to paint that fence too, with someone standing beside her, sharing the load.
Daniel Starr was not the man who would make her dreams come true.
Chapter Six
Amy knew the Nutty Knitters were right and half the town would be at the shower. She told herself she didn't care, but she struggled with feeling left out right when she had been feeling such a part of things.
If it were at any place but the church…
She waffled. After all, she'd made the cake Brittney wanted. And it had turned out beautifully. It hadn't been a difficult one. And the main reason Brittney had wanted Amy, instead of anyone else, to make it was because the cake would announce the gender.
"I've kept it a secret since we found out," Brittney had confided over the phone after Amy finally agreed to make it. "Please don't tell anyone."
Now Amy walked the two blocks from the closed Craft Away the Day to the Main Street Pecan Church carrying a box concealing the cake she'd stayed up half the night to create. She'd wanted to walk because she knew Daniel would be at the shower, and she needed the extra time to prepare herself to act nonchalant.
It was a ridiculous way to behave, but Amy hadn't dated since she'd arrived in Pecan, and before that, she'd not really encountered a man as special as Daniel.
He's leaving soon, she reminded herself. He's not the man of your dreams. These thoughts were followed by, it's not like he's asked you out or anything.
That particular fact was exactly why she was walking. She needed to say it to herself a dozen times. Chant it, even.
She'd made it to the end of Main Street and only said it twice. She had too much on her mind. Making cakes let Amy know how the Nutty Knitters felt when they finished a creation. She'd started with nothing but the separate essentials: eggs, flour, butter, sugar, and a recipe to follow. They started with yarn, beads, scissors, hooks, and a pattern to follow. Unbidden came the memory of Michelle discussing a Bible class lesson that likened a finished craft as the forming of the world: something from nothing.
The cake was chocolate on the inside, and the outside was white with blue circles swirling on the sides. A pair of real crocheted blue booties topped the cake.
Shirley's old green Buick slowed down next to her and the driver's side window opened so that Amy could see Daniel at the wheel and Shirley in the passenger seat.
"Want a ride?"
"I'm fine. Just one more block."
"It's hot out," Daniel said. "And the box looks heavy."
"Not heavy at all."
"Suit yourself." Even as he drove off, she could hear Shirley scolding him for leaving her through the open window.
When Amy got to the church's entrance, and before she could take a big breath of courage and chant he's leaving soon, Daniel was holding open the door for her and taking the cake from her hands.
"I'm friends with the dad-to-be," he said.
She neglected to mention that she already knew this as she followed him into a multi-purpose room where Brittney sat beside a table full of gifts.
"He made me come." Daniel appeared stricken. Clearly an act.
"I doubt anyone makes you do what you don't want to do."
He wagged his eyebrows. "You know me so well. Did you know I fixed Brittney up with Mike?"
Amy nodded. "Don't drop the cake. It's my gift to her. Let's put it somewhere in the back. I think Brittney has plans for it."
"Brittney's always been big on plans. Mike came down from Abilene today just to attend the shower. He didn't think I'd attend one of these things, but I'm here to prove him wrong."
"Very manly of you."
He grinned, left the cake on the back kitchen counter, flexed his arm to make a muscle, and hurried off to greet another woman at the door and relieve her of her bundles.
"He's quite a guy, huh?" Brittney said.
Amy jumped. She'd not heard the other woman come to stand next to her.
"Shirley raised him. That says something." Amy watched as Brittney opened the top of the cake box a tad and peeked in.
"It's perfect. I can't believe you could do this in such a short time."
"It was fun. I'm glad I could make it for you."
It was then that Amy finally got a look at the church's kitchen. "Wow."
Brittney agreed. "They remodeled about seven years ago and let the Nutty Knitters have their way. As you can see, they went all out."
"I could live here."
"I can't imagine anyone wanting to cook this much," Brittney said. "Poor Mike lives on meatloaf and grilled ham."
Amy scanned the room. This was as close to a commercial kitchen as she'd seen outside a restaurant. The stove even had a hood. There were three built-in refrigerators to her left, a double stove and warming oven to her right, plus counter space and two sinks.
Someone called for Brittney, and Amy followed her into the party. At her aunt's funeral, she'd done little more than sit in shock while people tried to shake her hand, hug her, and tell her how very sorry they were. There'd been a meal, but she couldn't eat. She'd excused herself to go to the bathroom and instead slipped out the side door to hurry home.
She doubted that back then, she'd have appreciated all the church had to offer. The walls of the multi-purpose room were decorated with all kinds of photos. Here were photos of weddings, baby showers, and even youth events. She recognized her Aunt Abigail laughing amidst the Nutty Knitters. The Starr brothers were prominent in quite a few. Some were group photos, and she studied the boy who must be Luke, the youngest Starr. He was flanked by two other boys. One she recognized as Carol's nephew. The other she didn't know. Three of the photos showed Daniel and Brittney together.
Someone clapped and shouted, "It's time to begin," so Amy sat with her favorite ladies. Shirley's white hair contrasted with Carol's dark as they looked at Daniel and then whispered something to each other. Michelle fidgeted with her blond braid while she watched the goings on. Lynn leaned toward Amy and pointed out the ladies who didn't sew. "Brittney's mother can't hem. I did up Brittney's pep squad hem for her."
Shirley leaned forward. "That's because Lizbeth was too busy driving kids around. Sometimes it's a choice."
"Oh, I hate it when you're right," Carol said.
"I give it a year before Brittney and Mike move here," Lynn said. "The school's always looking for teachers."
Brittney's mother seemed to be everywhere. She was motioning for Brittney to sit, guiding Mike to sit next to his wife so she could take yet another photo, ordering Daniel around—a chair here and more punch please—and greeting the last minute arrivals. Amy liked watching her. It was the details. The way Brittney's mother touched Brittney's shoulder, patted Mike's hand, beamed at all the attention her daughter was getting.
All this happening in a church's multi-purpose room.
"Make sure," Brittney's mom said, coming to their table, "that you take some pictures. We provided the camera."
Michelle reached toward the center of the table and snagged the Fujifilm Quick Snap Waterproof disposable. "We'll do."
After a moment, Carol, who was sitting next to Amy, scooted to the left, and Daniel positioned a chair between them. "You look like you're enjoying yourself," he said.
Something fluttered in her stomach, and for a moment, Amy wasn't sure she could form an answer. Why did he have this effect on her? She scooted her chair over a few inches because h
e was way too close. There was a heat that threatened to disarm her, and she was bothered by how much the idea of being disarmed by this man, this cowboy, appealed to her.
She cleared her throat. "I am enjoying myself. This is the only place in town serving pink ice cream punch."
Daniel looked thoughtful. "I wonder if that means she's having a girl."
Amy almost choked on the sip she'd taken. Brittney was as good at planning as her mother. Probably everyone was noting all the pink decorations. Even the mints were pink and green. Not a blue hint anywhere. At least not out in the open.
When everyone was seated, Miss Lisa and a young girl who looked a little like Brittney welcomed everyone and started the games.
Daniel stayed seated for Baby Word Scramble, which Amy won. Even his occasional covert glancing at her words didn't help him catch up. Then, he made an outrageous guess at How Many Baby Items are on the Tray. He declined the opportunity to play pin the diaper pin on the baby.
"Oh, look." Lynn motioned for Michelle to hand over the camera and then snapped a photo. "Brittney's mom's starting to tear up."
"I wonder if it's because she going to be a grandma," Michelle said.
Amy thought it an odd remark. Obviously Brittney's mom was going to be a grandma.
"Michelle means old enough to be a grandma," Carol whispered. "It's a bit shocking to some women."
"Oh."
"I'd like to be a great-grandma," Shirley said.
The remark was enough to send Daniel out of his chair and into the lobby.
#
Daniel had been enjoying himself, but maybe coming to Brittney's baby shower hadn't been a good idea. It made him think about life's choices. A few days ago, talking to Mike on the phone, he'd listened as his college friend talked about how cool it would be in just under a month when there'd be a mini-him. "I'll teach him how to throw a football and build a skate ramp. If it's a girl, I can play Barbies. Just don't ask me to braid hair."
Daniel couldn't get over the change in his old college buddy.
"I'm going to be a dad," Mike had said, clearly in awe.
Daniel had been in grade school when his parents died and he'd gone to live with his grandparents. He dimly remembered his dad, a man who looked a little like Grandpa only younger. The most persistent memory had them inside an arcade, playing a game that had to do with music and jumping around. He remembered being swung in the air and laughter.
But it had been Grandpa who'd thrown the football and Grandpa who'd taken him and Dusty out to the work shed and built a skateboard ramp with them. The ramp had lasted all of three months before weather, constant use, and destructive kids had ruined it.
There'd been a time when he'd dreamed of having kids with Brittney. But she'd never looked at him the way she looked at Mike. And if he were honest, she'd been convenient, a beautiful girl who was easy to be around. Luckily, they'd both been smart enough to realize that circumstances were not always the most reliable matchmaker.
Careful to avoid his Gramma's attention, he peered through the small windows on the door to check out what Amy was doing. She already had a few more clothespins from the 'Don't Cross Your Legs' game. He remembered the dozens of showers his grandma helped organize. He and his brothers had often been stuck folding napkins into diapers and such stuff. Yeah, baby showers weren't all bad. Not that he'd confess this adventure to Dusty. Although Dusty might be smart enough to appreciate the appeal of an afternoon spent with plenty of sweets and plenty of ladies. Two of their favorite things.
Gramma was as happy as could be, and that made Daniel happy, even though Gramma's hands shook a bit, and her exhausted expression seemed more pronounced.
They'd been to the doctor in Texarkana yesterday. The news wasn't quite as good as Daniel had hoped. According to the assessment, Gramma still needed the wheelchair because she could only manage putting fifty percent of her weight on the hurt ankle. If Gramma did physical therapy, she might be able to use a walker in a few weeks. The doctor considered that good news.
Gramma didn't. She wanted to be walking on her own in a week.
What it meant for Daniel was extending the time spent in Pecan. Gramma wasn't great with the wheelchair. She kept forgetting to lock up the brakes when she needed to move from the chair to bed or to another chair, and the ankle boot she still wore made her movements more difficult. Luckily, Daniel or Burt had always been with her when she'd done that. With that in mind, Daniel had stopped at an appliance store and bought the biggest microwave he could find. His grandmother didn't think much of the black color, but it would make cooking easier, and Daniel needed all the help he could get.
"Hey, Daniel." Burt Vanderly walked through the church's front door.
"You here for the shower?"
"No, I thought I'd do some work on the church's finances, and then I'll help you get Shirley in the car when all this is over."
"Appreciate that. I forgot you were the church's accountant."
"Fifty years now, except for the three I spent in Florida. I'm still trying to fix the mess left by that interruption."
Daniel's interest piqued. Even though it had been a couple of years since he'd done any real financial advising, maybe he could help. Following Burt down the hallway and into the church offices, Daniel reminded the man of his degree and asked, "What kind of mess?"
Thirty minutes later, Daniel sat behind the computer while Burt went through some of the IRS's written correspondence. "We've plenty of fines and penalties," Burt said.
Daniel frowned. "I didn't know a minister couldn't have taxes withheld like a regular employee."
"Neither did the volunteer who took my place."
Daniel didn't ask who the volunteer had been. He didn't need to know, and Burt wouldn't have said. What Burt did say was, "If you stick around, this job could be yours."
There it was again. The elephant in the room. Shirley needed family nearby. Sure, once her ankle healed, she'd be able to get around on her own, but emotional need could be as great as physical need. Besides that, she wasn't getting any younger.
Dusty was on a roll and could win it all this year. Gramma could use the money he'd be earning.
As for Luke, well, Daniel's little brother needed to heal himself before he'd be any use to others.
Laughter rolled down the hallway and, against his better judgment, Daniel excused himself and returned to the baby shower. Just inside the door, he noticed Amy taking yet another clothespin from one of the Nutty Knitters. It looked like she'd collected a dozen already. At the end, whoever had the most clothespins won a prize. He wondered if Amy knew that the prize most certainly would be something baby related. Heading for the kitchen, he helped Mike refill some of the candy jars and then ventured out to the hall to scoop more frothy pink drinks into tiny cups.
"Your grandmother looks tired but happy." Amy took a drink from him. "Having you home is the best remedy."
Amy looked like she was having fun. Her cheeks were flushed, and it wasn't every female who could walk around with that many clothespins clamped to the bottom of their shirt and still look good.
He was standing next to Amy, silly frothy pink drink in his hand, when she won the clothespin game and was rewarded a giant bag of disposable diapers.
His grandma waved him over and whispered in his ear, "Tell her she's supposed to give them to the mother-to-be. I'm not sure she knows."
He waited until there was a lull and then told her. Looking relieved, she walked them over to the gift table.
"I'm glad I came to the shower," Daniel said when she came back. "You might have been stuck with those diapers forever."
"I'm glad you came too. You made Shirley happy."
Daniel studied his grandma, noting her smile and at the same time, how pale and frail-looking she was.
Amy looked over at his grandma and as if reading his mind, gently said, "I felt the same way while I was taking care of Aunt Abigail."
"Gramma tell you about the doctor yesterday?"
"That she'd be in the wheelchair a while longer?"
"A lot longer, and she's not very accepting."
"She's always been active," Amy said. "This can't be easy."
"When I think of her lying on the ground and not being able to get up…I'm so glad you came to check on her."
"I called and called her house. Plus, I knew she'd never miss church."
"Time for cake!" someone called.
Brittney came flying back to the kitchen and headed right for the box he'd carried in for Amy. She hurried to the table all decorated with balloons and diapers and such. Sitting it in the center, she gathered everyone around, and in a loud whisper said, "I haven't even shared this information with Mike."
Daniel noted a few ladies smiling at all the pink hints.
"I don't care what we have," Mike said.
"Me, either," said Brittney. "But just so you know." Carefully she lifted the cake from the box, smiled, and took the crocheted blue booties from the top.
"A boy," Mike breathed, taking them from her.
Brittney's mother burst into tears. "We had three girls," she told the woman standing next to her. As if anyone in Pecan didn't know that.
Amy returned to her seat, and Daniel and Mike took the job of gathering up torn wrapping paper. An hour later, they were putting the presents—minus the wrapping paper—in the back of Mike and Brittney's brand new minivan. Gramma had left a while ago with Burt, something about wanting to go home and rest. Inside, Brittney, her mom and sisters, and Amy cleaned up.
#
When Brittney's mom locked the church, Amy started across the parking lot toward home.
Except a green Buick Skylark blocked her way, and a good-looking cowboy leaned out the driver's side window, black hair somewhat ruffled, eyes somehow looking both intense and amused. "Come to dinner with me?"
She shouldn't accept.
He'd be leaving as soon as Shirley got better.
But, oh, she wanted to sit beside him, get to know him, and think about white picket fences.
