"Chip is also about half a demerit point from having his license taken away," Tracy retorted, put out with my breaking news. "You can't go. I need you. Your foster kids need you. Your family needs...your father needs you," she hastily amended.
I sighed. And that was the crux of the matter. Six weeks ago I had looked around for another job and my own place to live. I was tired of spinning my wheels in Holmes Crossing. Then Dad had his heart attack and my plans were put on hold.
All my life, Dad had been the epitome of strong faith and good humour. Even after my mother, Alice, died five years ago, Dad had grieved hard, then told us all he put his trust in God and went back to being the fun-loving, encouraging man I knew him to be. In the following years, I wondered how he had stayed so positive. How he had pulled out of his grief.
It took me a lot longer than that.
After the heart attack, Dad had become weak and frail and given to bouts of deep depression. These days he didn't even have the strength or the will to get up from his recliner or to crack open the Bible that he used to read every day. My brothers, who stopped going to church when my mom died, didn't share my concerns. Reading the Bible did not seem to be on the "approved" list of activities for guys.
I couldn't leave my father this way, but I had stayed as long as I could. It didn't look like things were changing on the work front so I was the one who needed to do the changing.
"I'm not moving to New Zealand." I pulled open the back door of my car.
"I don't drive like Chip so it would be a four-hour round trip for me." Tracy set her bags in the back and slammed the door shut. "That's a lot of time to spend in a vehicle just for the pleasure of your company."
"I would come home most weekends," I said, still loading up my own groceries. A week's supply of healthy food obviously took less time to load than three days' worth of junk food. "I have enough reasons to come back to Holmes Crossing."
Tracy didn't reply as we got into the car. She said nothing as I reversed out of my spot and turned onto the street. She said nothing when we headed toward the garage where they were working on her car. She said nothing as I pulled into the customer parking stall.
It was her turn to talk, but as I put my car into park I gave in. "Tracy, you said yourself that I needed to get another job. I heard you. I'm simply following your advice."
"I said you needed to talk to your boss about your job. Not...not..." She spun her hand in a circle, wiping away what I had told her. "This moving thing you want to do. That you didn't even talk about with me. That you couldn't even bother to ask me questions about even though you knew I would be as upset as I am now." Tracy complained in a voice that conveyed to me her utter disbelief that I would seriously want to leave our home and community and head to the big, bad city.
I tried to find the words that would make her understand as I wrapped my hands around the steering wheel staring through the window of Wierenga's garage.
"So there's Cor DeWindt, regular at Terra's Cafe," I said lifting my pinky finger to point at the older gentleman leaning against the counter, frowning at Blane Wierenga behind the counter, his canvas coat covering his usual plaid shirt and crazy suspenders. "He pulled me out of Frieson's pond when my brothers dared me to skate across it. He told me to be quiet in church when I was a crazy teenager sitting with her friends. He loves to tease me about an especially touching moment of the Christmas program when I, as an innocent girl of five, lifted up the skirt of my best Sunday dress, displaying my underwear to my horrified family members and an amused public. And that's only him. There are at least a dozen other people who have some memory of me that is either unflattering or embarrassing. There are no secrets in this town for me. There is no mystery. No surprises."
And a few bad memories.
"I can see why you want to leave. Sort of," Tracy conceded. She gave me a sympathetic look and for a moment I wondered if she would go as far back in my past as I had the last week. I held my breath, wondering what she would say. Though she knew about Wyatt, she thought I had moved on. Everybody did. Especially my brothers. We never talked about him. "But I'm selfish," she continued, shifting into a far more comfortable direction. "And I want you here. With me and David."
"I know. And I love you and David too," I told her, surprised at how relieved I felt. I was feeling vulnerable and weepy and fighting too many battles on too many fronts. "But with me and my brothers, well. I'm losing the love. They're turning into permanent residents. If I want to be released from guy-dom, I have to move out."
"But the city..."
I said nothing to that, not surprised she didn't support my decision. Since she and David got married a month ago Tracy had been embracing the whole hearth and home concept with a zeal that surprised even me. She even started a home decor board on Pinterest. Next was an SUV and the requisite Labrador retriever. From there it was a quick slip into having children, and I knew she wanted to share each step with me. But the way my love life was unfolding, I wasn't catching up soon.
"It might not happen," I said with a lame attempt at reconciliation. "I could spend the rest of my days stuck here
in town with Dad and the boys and their toys and dirt and stuff, hanging out with Cor and Father Sam at Terra's and turning into an old maid who reminisces about the few dates she went on with the occasional man who made Holmes Crossing a momentary stopping point in his climb up the career ladder."
"I can see I'm not getting anywhere with you today," Tracy said primly, pushing open the door. "I'll go see if my car is ready."
Tracy disappeared into the building, the tilt of her dark head telling me more than her parting comment did. The vibration of my cell phone gave me something else to think about. The number gave me something else to sigh about. It was my brother Neil.
"Hey, babe," he said as I swiped and mumbled hello. "Can you stop by the shop?" he asked. "Chip needs a ride home to pick up my truck and bring it here."
"I was coming anyway to get you guys to fix my flat tire," I said, glancing at my watch. My brother Neil owned his own mechanic's shop in town. Chip worked there too and I liked to give them my business.
"Where are you now?"
I wasn't sure I should tell them. Tracy's husband David got all his mechanic work at Wierenga's. When they got married, Tracy took her business from my brother’s shop and went there too. I thought this took the whole "whither thou goest I will go" part of the wedding vows they exchanged too far.
They wouldn't be impressed if they found out I was at the ‘competition.'
"When do you want me to come?" I asked instead.
"Right now?"
"I have to stop at the office then run some errands."
"So?"
"So that means Chip will have to wait for about an hour."
"Hang on a sec, I'll ask him if that's okay."
"Doesn't matter if he thinks--"
But my comment was interrupted by the clattering of the phone as he dropped it on the counter. Over the clanging of metal I could hear Neil deliver this information to Chip, then some muttered conversation, followed by a burst of laughter. Sounded like they were having fun. I waited and waited. No surprise that their time was more valuable than mine.
Finally Neil picked up the phone again.
"You comin' right away after that, though? We really need you to come and, I mean, it's okay with Chip that you come later."
Be still my heart.
"I'll be there as soon as I'm done," I muttered.
Tracy came back to the car, nodding. "It's ready," she said as she opened the back door of my car.
I dropped the phone in my pocket, grabbed the rest of her grocery bags out of my car and followed Tracy around the side of the building where her vehicle was parked. She loaded up the bags, closed the door on the groceries in the backseat, then waited a moment as if she had something else to say.
I knew I had thrown out the information about my move with little preparation, but I didn't know a better way to tell her.
Between working with kids whose first language was not found in any respectable dictionary, and brothers who thought tact was something you used to spear notices to the wall, my diplomacy was worn thin.
"Well, I don't want to keep Casey waiting." I waited another beat, then, as I turned to leave, Tracy caught me by the arm.
"I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little pouty right now." She gave me an apologetic smile. "I had visions of me and David, and you and you someone special, growing up in Holmes Crossing together, sharing recipes, swapping babysitting, and all those things you see in life insurance commercials."
I knew full well what Tracy had grown up with and how she longed for a life that at least veered toward normal territory.
"Hey, you never know. Maybe I'll meet the perfect man and he'll want to move to Holmes Crossing..."
"And maybe your brothers will buy you a dozen yellow roses and a box of Lindor chocolates," Tracy put in, referring to an ongoing joke that we had with Leslie VandeKeere. She was a huge fan of the chocolates and was always bugging my brothers to buy them for me.
"It could happen."
"I don't want to think about you going yet. Instead I'm going home, unloading my groceries and then sitting down to start praying."
"No fair," I protested. "I have to do all my praying on the run. There's no way I can compete with you."
"It's not a competition," Tracy said.
"Well, I know what you'll be praying for," I muttered. "For me to stay here."
"You're just guessing at that." She grew serious and laid a hand on my arm. "I always pray for you, Danielle. I pray that God will keep you safe. I pray that you will find strength to do your job. I pray for your heart..." She was quiet a moment and I could tell from the look of sorrow on her face that she was slipping back to that horrible day.
And I realized why that cowboy had been on my mind so much. On Friday it would be exactly four years since the accident.
Right now I was praying she wouldn't bring it up. I didn't want to cry right now. Not just before I was seeing Casey. He would love nothing more than to see any sign of weakness in me. The rotter.
"And now I'm going to pray that you'll find someone here in Holmes Crossing to love," was all she said.
"That's unlikely," I returned.
"Well, you make sure you get your brothers to help you unload that tire." She gave me a careful smile and I just laughed, glad to get back to mundane, safe topics.
"That won't happen. My brothers haven't spent all those years teaching me to be self-sufficient only to jump in at this time of my life."
Tracy shook her head. "Someday, some woman is going to have one of those guys on the run. Mark my words."
"I will. And I'll be there with pom-poms cheering her on." I punched the air, underlining my comment. I gave her a quick hug to show her I still loved her, then left to see Casey.
The meeting was a mini case conference with a father who was still in rehab. We chatted and I encouraged him, and the meeting seemed to go well. He left and I was feeling good. Then Casey pulled me into his office and things went downhill. I got a mini lecture on overtime and prioritizing. I pulled out my "understanding" expression, listened dutifully while keeping my hands folded on my lap so I wouldn't be tempted to smack him. Striking your boss does not look good on a resumé especially if he's the only reference you have. With Casey I had to tread carefully since I told him I was looking for other work. I had to make sure he had no reason to get petty.
Thankfully I was back in my car in time to get my other stuff done. At the dry cleaner's, I chatted with Arlene who worked at the hospital and made the appropriate admiring noises when she showed me her engagement ring. I knew the guy she was marrying, so jealousy wasn't an issue, but being reminded of my single status was. I knew in this day and age I should be embracing my independence, but truthfully there were times I'd sooner be embracing a man.
Next stop was the shoe store to pick up my repaired boot and endure a lecture on how to polish them so this expensive footwear would last longer. Then, I finally pulled up to the Chip and Neil's garage.
The front door was locked, but I knew from experience that the side door would be open. I parked beside an unfamiliar truck with a sign on the back that said, “born to run, live to ride” and had a picture of a bucking bronco underneath it.
I sucked in my breath and looked away feeling as if God was trying to send me some kind of subliminal message.
Or maybe Wyatt was.
I closed my eyes a moment, sent up a prayer for strength and peace, whipped that tire out of the trunk of my car with an expert twist of my hips, and even managed to keep my skirt clean.
I was good. I was so good I should have SnapChatted that move.
Tracy's comment about getting the boys to help made me laugh. They would say they were busy; they would ask me if my arms were broken; they knew I was tough. I'm sure there were times they thought the skirts and dresses I wore were clever disguises to fool them into thinking I might actually be different from them.
The flat tire was hard to roll, but once I got it going, it went okay. The door was tricky and from the sounds of laughter inside, I guessed the jacked-up truck belonged to a long lost buddy of one of my brothers.
Yay. Just what I needed in my current mood. Another guy.
I maneuvered the tire down the hall and into the open mechanic shop.
And wasn't it simply divine justice that the guy perched on the bumper of Chip's truck was the same "guy" I had seen in the grocery store still wearing his sunglasses.
"And out of nowhere comes the sunshine," he announced.
I ignored him but, to my surprise, he jumped off the truck and took the tire away from me.
"Pretty little lady is pretty tough," he said, angling me another smile.
He had to be kidding. Sunshine? Pretty little lady? Could this guy get any more guyish?
He helped you with your tire.
Well some points for that, I thought begrudgingly.
Chip wiped his hands on a greasy towel and watched me. Carter leaned against the truck, grinning at their new friend as if he had said something wildly original.
"Hey, sis. You're late," Carter called out as their buddy dropped the tire by the compressor.
"Hey, Carter. I don't care," I retorted, not bothering to pull out my manners. I still felt grumbly. This guy's unsubtle come-on as he watched me struggle, piled on top of Casey's earlier patronizing attitude, didn't help to push my mood out of the red zone.
"Okay if I bring this back later on?" Neil asked.
"I can make it home on the spare." I glanced over at their friend who looked at me like I was some trophy he wanted to win.
"Jigs, this is our sister Danielle," Chip said as he tossed the towel into a nearby can. "Jigs likes fishing. That's why we call him Jigs."
Chip only rechristened guys he considered good friends. I had heard vague references to Jigs in the past few days. Apparently he was new in town. Just moved in but I'd been too busy to pay attention.
I gave him a polite smile accompanied by what my brothers called my office telephone voice. "Welcome to Holmes Crossing," I said, pleased that I sounded so civil.
"Thanks for that," he said, tipping his hard hat back on his head and grinning at me again, his teeth white against his thick, dark beard. "Holmes Crossing seems like a real friendly town."
I gave him a vague look.
"I'm thinking of moving here," he continued, obviously oblivious to my not-interested attitude. "I've heard good things about this place and—," he paused and grinned at me, "--the people in it."
"Isn't that great?" Carter said, looking as if his favourite dog had just come home. "And isn't he a great guy?"
"I'm sure he's a fantastic guy," I said emphasizing the last word, still wondering what they expected me to say. I turned back to Chip. "You ready to go?"
Chip glanced from me to Jigs, then to Carter, his expression clearly puzzled.
"But Danielle, this i
s Jigs."
"Got that the first time." I waggled my fingers, a gesture I knew would immediately raise any one of my brothers’ ire. "Tick, Tock, brother."
I lifted my eyebrow in question and resisted the urge to tap my foot.
I saw Carter shrug, then shake his head in surprise.
Then Neil poked in the side and give him the taunting grin of winner to loser. "Told you she was fussy," I heard him whisper.
"That's okay," Carter said with a grin overflowing with masculine self-confidence. "She'll come around."
I gave Carter a withering look and he had the grace to look down.
But Jigs was still looking at me with a considering expression on his face.
As if he had something to prove.
As I looked at my brothers’ expectant faces and Jigs's smug expression, realization dawned in technicolor.
I was supposed to have fallen for the obvious charms of this Jigs guy, thereby making my brothers the happiest men in the world. I couldn't believe these guys. They were a testosterone-laden version of The Little Engine That Could. They didn't quit.
A month ago they introduced me to a heavy-duty mechanic who was, they claimed, sensitive because he owned two black Labs that rode around with him in the cab of his pickup. Two weeks before that, it was a guy who worked for the department of highways and did extreme mountain biking in his spare time.
My brothers lived in mortal fear that I would end up marrying someone who could talk for over five minutes and not bring up internal combustion engines, the fate of certain hockey teams, the price of feed wheat or anything to do with horses.
I suspected this Jigs guy was their latest effort at the game, but with their usual ineptness, they once again missed the matchmaking mark.
I gave Carter my vintage ticked-off-sister look, the kind reserved for moments when my brothers had gone over their quota of silliness.
Carter had the grace to look somewhat abashed. Chip was looking at me as if he expected me to throw myself into this bushman's arms and declare undying love. Neil just looked interested.
Jigs, however, had a curious half smirk on his face, as if he saw me as a prize that, given time, would be his. That annoyed me most of all.
Any Man of Mine (Holmes Crossing Book 5) Page 2
