Small-Town Bachelor

by Jill Kemerer

  With jittery nerves, she went inside. Drywall covered the framed walls, buckets and tools dotted the plywood floor and electrical wires stuck out here and there.

  “Wow.” She moved forward, taking in all the details, then pivoted to Reed. “You did all this?”

  “Me?” His warm gaze held her hostage. “No. I gathered crews from all over the county. Their hard work did all this.”

  Claire closed the gap between them. “I can’t believe how much got done. And so quickly. All because of you.”

  Reed tucked her hair behind her ear. “It would have gotten done with or without me, Claire.”

  She gulped, shaking her head. “No, it wouldn’t. Uncle Joe couldn’t get anyone out here to even give him an estimate, let alone find anyone to do the work. You—you don’t know how much this means to them. To me.”

  His hand dropped back to his crutch, and he blinked. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s everything,” she said. “How can I thank you?”

  He lowered his head. “You don’t need to.”

  She disagreed. Instead of terror or fear, she felt hope and thankfulness. Reaching up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hug.

  “So?” He cleared his throat. “Are you glad you came?”

  “Yes.” Claire took his hand and turned to the door. “And now we’d better get that ice cream.”

  * * *

  Reed let Claire take the lead and knock on Dad’s door. Barbara appeared, her face breaking into a smile at the sight of them. “What a nice surprise!”

  “We’re getting ice cream,” Claire said. “You two want to come with us?”

  “Of course we do!” Barbara ushered them inside and called to the back, “Roger, Reed and Claire are here. We’re all getting ice cream.”

  “What?” His muffled voice carried.

  “Ice cream. Oh, you can’t wear that ratty shirt. Change into a nicer one.” Barbara turned back to them with a big, uneasy smile on her face. Reed knew the smile well. It was her let’s-pretend-everything-is-fine expression. “He’ll just be a minute. Have a seat.”

  Reed hadn’t been here in years. He found excuses to skip Christmas. How long had it been? Jake’s high school graduation? Reed took in the oak floors, turning orange with age, the dark green and maroon plaid furniture, the framed prints of frilly porches. Traditional. Barbara’s touches.

  “Is this okay?” Dad entered, tucking a short-sleeve button-down shirt into his jeans.

  “Looks great.” Claire nodded enthusiastically.

  A long moment held like a water balloon being filled to the max.

  “Shall we?” Reed gestured to the door.

  And it burst. Barbara and Claire chatted happily about some church thing, and he and Dad did the usual. Nothing. Everyone filed out. Claire drove the four of them to Tastee Freeze where they stood in line at the outside window.

  “Reed, I’m telling you straight up, the turtle sundae is the best in the state.” Claire nudged him with her elbow.

  “How can you be sure?” He flashed her a fake skeptical look. “I believe Bryan claimed JJ’s has the best hot fudge.”

  “Bryan doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Roger, doesn’t Tastee Freeze have the best sundaes?”

  His dad flushed and a small twinkle lit his eyes. “I have to agree with Claire here, Reed.”

  Wait. Were they having a conversation?

  Reed lifted his crutch to Barbara. “What do you think, Barbara? Should I trust these two biased ice cream aficionados? Tastee Freeze or JJ’s?”

  She let out a giggle—Barbara, giggling?—and touched her pearls. “Tastee Freeze does have the lemon custard I’m so fond of.”

  “Okay, Claire. I’ll order the turtle sundae, but this means we’ll have to go to JJ’s soon so I can compare.”

  “You’re on.” Grinning, she pretended to dust off her shoulder. “And now prepare yourself for deliciousness.”

  After they ordered, they found an umbrella-covered table out front. They discussed the town’s recovery, and Claire filled Dad and Barbara in on all Reed had done to help out.

  “Claire, you might be right.” Reed scooped another bite full of caramel and pecans on his spoon. “This is really good.”

  “Excuse me.” Mr. Jay, a hobby store owner affected by the tornado, approached. “Reed, Claire, would you mind if I ask you another question?” He glanced in apology at Dad and Barbara. “The company you contacted gave me a few design options, and I could use your advice.”

  “Sure.” Reed hobbled to his feet and followed Claire and Mr. Jay to the car. Two large presentation boards with sketched plans sat in the backseat. Mr. Jay pulled them out. Claire accepted one and held it up to Reed.

  “I like what they did with the floor plan on this one,” she said. “It’s so open and inviting.”

  Mr. Jay nodded. “But would it be too open? I’m worried about losing display space.”

  Reed gestured for Claire to show him the other plan. She held it up.

  “Don’t you love the storefront on this sketch?” Claire’s face beamed. “Talk about charming.”

  Reed studied them. “Mr. Jay, what are you leaning toward?”

  He tweaked his mustache. “Both. Wish I could merge the two. Tough decision.”

  “Actually, you can,” Reed said. “Ask the project manager to use the outside of this one and the inside of that one.”

  “I can do that?” Mr. Jay pressed his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

  “Absolutely,” Reed said.

  “I’m glad I talked to you. I’ve been going round and round about this for two days.” Mr. Jay smiled. “If there’s anything I can ever do for you...” He shook both Claire’s and Reed’s hands, then loaded the boards back in the car.

  “We make a good team.” Claire fell in next to Reed as they made their way back to the table.

  A good team? He blanched. Collin always used to say that to him. They had been a good team. Until Collin betrayed him. “Yeah, well, our ice cream’s probably melting.”

  He felt her quizzical glance, but he didn’t look at her. Couldn’t explain the mixed feelings assaulting him. He lowered his body to the bench and picked up his sundae.

  “You sure know what you’re doing,” Dad said, keeping his gaze on the table.

  A compliment from Dad? Reed almost jerked his head back in surprise. “Anyone with my experience would do the same.”

  Barbara took a dainty bite of her lemon custard. “Now, Reed, that’s not true and you know it. It’s generous of you.”

  Heat climbed up his neck. “Don’t mention it.”

  Claire studied him. Her knowing expression drove him crazy—crazy enough to want to hold her hand, to kiss her again.

  She turned to Barbara. “Did Jake tell you about Miss Gert’s porch? I had to convince her to come to my house with me—and Whiskers. What an ordeal. She flat out refused. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “How did you get her out of there?” Barbara was all ears.

  “Promised her I had a special fur-ball treatment. And we bribed her with Aunt Sally’s blueberry pie.”

  Barbara laughed. “Anyone could be bribed with her pie.”

  “I know, right?” Claire chuckled. “I wish it could salvage Libby and Jake’s wedding plans. What a disaster.”

  They launched into a full-blown wedding drama while he and Dad focused on the ice cream. Thoughts jumbled in Reed’s brain, questions grown stale as the years went by.

  Hey, Dad, why haven’t we spoken since Mom’s death?

  Why haven’t you looked me in the eye in over twenty years?

  “Well, what do you think?” Dad asked.

  Reed blanked. What did he think about what? Miss Gert? Jake’s wed
ding plans? Twenty years of silence?

  “Pretty good ice cream, isn’t it?” Dad dipped his spoon back into his sundae.

  “Yeah, Dad. It is.” Ice cream. That was all Dad wanted to know. And it broke the crusty seal around Reed’s heart. Ice cream was a good start. There hadn’t been an awkward moment the entire visit. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

  Chapter Ten

  “City council will be electing a committee to organize the restoration celebration next Memorial Day.” Mayor Brantley folded his hands, resting them on his massive oak desk Monday afternoon. “Claire, your dad already volunteered to be on it. He’s contacting local media outlets.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” She smiled, glancing at Reed in the chair next to her. He’d dressed up for the meeting. The man could stop traffic in that button-down.

  “We have a team working on the application for federal aid.” The mayor frowned and adjusted a stack of papers. “It’s doubtful we’ll qualify. Believe it or not, our damage won’t be considered severe enough. In the meantime, we’re petitioning the state of Michigan to help defray the cleanup costs.”

  “Not severe enough?” Claire straightened her back, her good mood dissolving. “Have they seen our town? Half of it’s leveled.”

  “I know. From what I’ve been told, though, the cleanup would need to cost close to twenty million dollars. I’m thankful our costs will be a fraction of that. And we have options. Donations and fund-raising make a big difference in disasters like this. Thank you both for your efforts.”

  Reed pulled his crutches from the floor and stood. “Thank you.”

  “If there’s anything more we can do to help, let me know.” Claire followed the mayor to the door, where he shook both their hands.

  “Will do, Claire.”

  She and Reed walked in silence down the hallway to the door. “When the mayor mentioned the possibility of federal money, it was like a beam of hope. To find out we won’t qualify is really tough to take.”

  “I know.” Reed opened the glass door. Drizzle fell, leaving tiny beads of moisture on them. “I’m supposed to meet your dad at the restaurant. Mind dropping me off?”

  “Sure.” She started her car. “I’m heading to Aunt Sally’s. I need to drown my sorrows in whatever she baked today.”

  Before she shifted into reverse, Reed covered her hand with his. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Everything is on track. The town will get rebuilt with or without government assistance.”

  She tried to smile. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

  “And don’t worry about driving me around tomorrow. John emailed another report earlier. I need to review it.”

  Her spirits sank lower. “Okay.”

  Claire dropped Reed off and drove to Aunt Sally’s, letting herself in through the side door. “Yoo-hoo, it’s Claire.” She poked through the living room and kitchen, but no one was home. She texted Aunt Sally and instantly got a reply. Sit tight. At grocery store. Be back in a minute.

  Claire took the lid off the Tupperware on the counter. Chocolate cupcakes. Just what she needed. She peeled the wrapper off one.

  “The wedding is off.” Libby, red eyed and wearing a pale pink sundress with a cropped denim jacket and cowboy boots, slammed the side door, then dropped onto the bar stool next to Claire. “I am done with him. It’s over.”

  Claire’s heart thumped at Libby’s clipped words. What would make Libby cancel the wedding now? It didn’t make sense. And why had Aunt Sally picked this moment to be out at the grocery store?

  Libby clicked her nails on the counter. Crossed one leg over the other, swung it quickly, then switched legs.

  “What happened?” Claire asked, licking the frosting off her finger. Her sister in anger mode always churned her stomach, made Claire want to fix whatever bothered her.

  Libby whipped her neck to the side and glared. “He is the most unbending human being I have ever come across in my life. I’m convinced if I marry him I will be miserable. Miserable!”

  Claire inwardly groaned. She didn’t want to sit through a session of let’s-bash-Jake. He was a nice guy. Not perfect, but a good, solid, Christian man. “Want a water or a pop?”

  “Like I can drink right now. Claire, please. Didn’t you hear me? When I informed him we would have to move the wedding to five o’clock to accommodate the pastor, do you know what he said?” Libby stood and began pacing, the heels of her boots clapping on the hardwood floor. “Well? Do you?”

  “Um...”

  “He said, ‘If the pastor can’t do the seven o’clock time, maybe we should forget having a Friday wedding and get married at the courthouse.’”

  The courthouse? Claire sputtered. Had Jake lost his mind? Libby would never consider anything but a church wedding or a religious ceremony. And, Claire had to admit, she wouldn’t consider it either.

  Reed’s support this afternoon filled the loneliest corridor of her heart. Working with him, partnering with him made her feel understood, special. Why couldn’t she get it through her head he had a promotion to return to?

  “Well, you can guess what happened. We got in a massive fight. He started yelling. He never yells. I told him to calm down, if he would open his calendar, we could figure out a better time, and do you know what he told me? Do you?”

  She didn’t. And she didn’t want to. Claire prayed for wisdom.

  “He told me to grow up.”

  They faced each other. Libby, impossibly fresh and pretty, Claire in her striped blouse and black pants. Her heart ached for the beautiful woman her sister had become. How many times had she agonized over her little Libby? When Bree made fun of her hair in fourth grade. When Libby’s sixth grade teacher decided she had an attitude problem. When a trio of mean girls spread lies about Libby her freshman year.

  And now this.

  Claire rose and held out her arms. A tense moment later, Libby fell apart, sobbing. Claire rubbed her back, wishing she could take away her pain, wishing she had the right words, but words wouldn’t fix this. “I’m sorry, Libby.”

  Libby pulled away and dried her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I ever fell in love. I should have listened to you.”

  Claire ran her hand up and down Libby’s upper arm. “Don’t ever regret love.”

  “How can I not? You were right. Tommy thought Stephanie was the one, and, what, six months later they broke up? Or take Bryan. He and Abby were divorced, like, two weeks after their one-year anniversary. Love doesn’t work in our family.”

  “Love works, Libby. It does. It’s not easy.”

  Libby sniffled. “And what about you? Justin broke your heart. We all knew it. How many times have I heard you say you don’t see yourself married? You got it right. I’m not going down that dismal road either.”

  Guilt ripped through Claire. She had never intended to shut her sister off to love and marriage.

  “Listen, Libs—”

  Libby ignored her. “My face must have given away how hurt I was, because he tried to apologize, but really, after that, what is there to say? I told him it was over. He can find someone else. Some grown-up who wants to get married in a courthouse. I’m sure they’ll be perfect for each other.”

  “Hold on.” Claire stretched her hands out. “I understand how you’re feeling, I do. But what happened between me and Justin is nothing like the relationship you have with Jake.”

  Libby studied her fingernails.

  “I mean it. Jake cares about you. I see it in his eyes. It’s in the way he treats you.” She averted her gaze. “Justin never treated me the way Jake treats you. You’re like a princess to him.”

  “I don’t feel like a princess. I’m working on my degree and I have a part-time job. I pull my weight.”

  “That’s not what I meant.
Jake—”

  “I’m not going to stand here and listen to another lecture on marriage from you. It’s normal to want a church wedding, okay? I should have known you’d blame me.” She stalked out of the kitchen, down the hall, to the front door with Claire on her heels.

  “I don’t blame you. Your ceremony should be in the church.” Claire lunged for Libby’s arm, spinning her to stop. “But I don’t want to see you throw away someone special over little wedding details.”

  She wrenched her arm free. “That’s the problem. You see all the marriage details as little. Well, I don’t. Getting married by Pastor Thomas means a lot to me. I’ve been dreaming about those details since I was three. Sorry. I’m not like you—I don’t want to live my life alone.”

  Libby flung the door open and strutted to her car, her chin angled to the sky. Every word sliced through Claire as they repeated continuously in her head. She had thought Claire wanted to live alone. That she mocked her for wanting a church wedding. Of all the cruel things to say, Libby had found the one that hurt the most.

  Claire returned to the kitchen and dropped her head in her hands.

  She couldn’t believe this had just happened. She’d been worried about Libby rushing into a lifelong commitment but never realized how she was coming across. Did Libby really think Claire was against marriage?

  Lord, I don’t know what to do. What can I say to get through to her?

  She waited, listening, needing an answer. This was her sister—she couldn’t afford to mess up any more than she already had. Oh, Libby, why can’t you see past your stubborn side?

  Should she apologize for giving Libby the wrong impression? Try to get Jake and Libby together to talk things out? Or...her throat grew tight—should she let them work it out on their own?

  Everything within her shouted, No! She needed to fix this. Could she let her make her own mistakes? Libby wasn’t a baby anymore. She’d figure out the right course for her life.

  Claire scrunched her nose. Could Libby figure it out? Without Claire’s help?