Her Country Heart

by Reggi Allder

Vanna’s smart phone went off. “Hey. Yeah, sorry to hear that. Okay.”

  Amy watched her friend nod, tense and then disconnect. “Emma and Laurie aren’t coming. Emma’s car broke down and they’re waiting for the tow truck. We’ll have to reschedule the meeting.”

  “Are they okay?”

  “Yeah, but disappointed.”

  “Darn, I was looking forward to seeing them. You know getting the high school crew back together.” She grinned.

  “Can’t say I’m surprised the car broke down. Hard to believe Emma’s kept that old clunker going for this long. You know her husband lost his job when the mill closed? Going on two years now.

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah and he’s still looking for work. I guess a lot of the men in town are. If something doesn’t come up soon we’ll lose a lot of good people. They’ll be forced to move.”

  “Is that why Emma’s so excited about crafting for the farm’s pumpkin patch?”

  “They really need the money.” Vanna finished off her coke. “Oh, did I tell you, she’s pregnant?”

  “No.”

  “How far along is she?” Amy smiled remembering the excitement of finding she was carrying Bobby’s and push down memory of her husband’s reaction when he said he didn’t want children.

  “She’s about three months. So she’s still a little queasy.”

  “Ugh, I remember that.”

  “So if she makes money with her crafts, it will sure help.”

  Amy glanced at the regulator clock that hung on a nearby wall. “We could flesh out some ideas for the pumpkin patch and update Emma and Laurie later. I think there’s still time.”

  “Great.” Vanna crunched a piece of ice.

  From her back pocket, Amy grabbed a piece of computer paper and flattened it on the table. “I’ve drawn an idea of the maze. See.” She turned it toward her friend. “Johnny Hansen is making it.” She smiled remembering the old farmer. “He’ll have it done in a few days.”

  She took a quick breath “If you can help the little kids choose pumpkins in the patch and Emma and Laurie bring their crafts we’ll sell them. I’ll have apple and pumpkin pies for sale. Of course there will be jars of apple sauce and bottles of apple cider.” She paused. “If we had a little more time we could have a haunted house for the middle school kids.” She shrugged. “Maybe next year.”

  “Wow girl, you’ve really thought this out. How about we have a few picnic tables and then we can serve the kids and parents pieces of pie and apple cider right there on the farm? I’m sure we could borrow the tables from my preschool.”

  “I love that. Now I’m getting pumped. I so want this to work. Vanna, remember to tweet and share.”

  “I will girl. And it’s going to work.”

  “Hi Amy.” A male voice called.

  She looked up expecting to see Wyatt.

  Mike Donnelly, the manger of the Safeway store, stood grinning at her.

  “Hey Mike. What are you doing here? You like Sophie’s ice cream?”

  “You got me.” He laughed. “I’m sure the ice cream is great. But I buy my ice cream at the grocery store. I just saw you sitting in the window and decided to come in and say hi.”

  “Sit down,” Vanna said.

  “Thanks.” Mike sat down in the chair next to Amy.

  Vanna winked at her.

  Amy kicked her friend under the table and cleared her throat. An awkward silence began.

  “Oh, I didn’t know it’s so late.” Vanna jumped up. “I’ll call you tonight. Got to go. Bye.”

  Amy grunted. There was no way she wanted to stay alone and try to make “happy talk” with Mike.

  His shoulders relaxed and he leaned back in the chair. “So you all settled in now?”

  “Pretty much.” She finished her coke making a slurping sound with her straw and resisted the inclination to grab an ice cube and pop it in her mouth.

  “Uh, how’s your little boy.”

  “Fine.”

  “He’s a cute kid.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sierra Creek’s a good place for a kid to grow up.”

  “What? Uh, yeah.”

  Not exactly sparkly a conversationalist, but she couldn’t think of anything to say to Mike. Why was it so hard to talk to him when it was so easy to chat with Wyatt?

  “Amy.” Mike waved his hand in front of her eyes. You still here?”

  “Oh sorry.” She forced an imitation smile to lift the corners of her mouth. “You going to get something to eat?” She nodded toward the ice cream counter.

  “Can’t. Got to get back to the store. I came in to tell you I’ve been thinking about you.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “You’ve been thinking about me?” Amy noticed the dimple in Mike’s cheek as he grinned at her.

  “Yeah. A lot. Remembering you when we were in high school. I had one hell of a crush on you then.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Never told you. But I watched you back then.”

  She felt her cheeks redden. He’d always seemed just one of the guys in her group. Nice enough, but she’d never really paid much attention to him. “High school seems like forever ago.”

  “A long time and yesterday, if you know what I mean.” He laughed and then suddenly looked serious. “Come to dinner with me on Friday night.”

  “Uh. I don’t know. I have Bobby to take care of.” She looked down at her hands and hoped he’d understand she was saying no. “I don’t know if I can get a sitter.”

  “Oh come on Amy, Vanna can babysit for you or Sophie can. I’ll ask Sophie right now if you want me to.” He started to stand.

  “No. Okay. I’ll go to dinner with you.” She paused. “But I’ll get my own sitter.”

  “Okay. I’ll pick you up Friday at seven. See ya.”

  She tried to smile. “I guess,” she said under her breath, but Mike was already gone from the ice cream shop.

  He had rushed out as if he wanted to get out before she could change her mind.

  Damn, what have I done? Guilt churned her stomach for agreeing to go to dinner with Mike. Open and friendly, he deserved someone who was interested in him.

  For days Wyatt was the only man she thought about. But Mike wanted to take her out. And from what Sophie had told her, Mike wanted a wife and lots of kids. He wasn’t running from a permanent relationship. That was more than she could say about Wyatt. With annoyance, she thought of the many women he had on his arm in the multiple photos she seen on the net.

  Bobby needed the influence of a man. But Wyatt didn’t want the responsibility. Why not let Mike have a shot?

  Still, she already regretted her decision to go to dinner with Mike. If she was going to be fair, Wyatt was the man she wanted, but she’d have to go through with the date because she’d promised and she would keep her word.

  ***

  Friday night came too quickly. In Bobby’s room Amy grabbed his pajamas from under the pillow on his bed. “I’m going to dinner with a guy from high school. I know you’ll have fun at Sophie’s house. You can have sorbet and Vanna promised to play a board game with you before you go to bed.”

  “Okay.” Bobby grabbed his teddy bear off the bed and put it under his arm. Then he took his book on snakes and put it under his other arm. Will Sophie read me a book before bed?”

  “Yeah. I think so, if you say please. But why don’t you bring another book too and let her choose the one she wants to read.” Amy cringed at the thought of Sophie opening the snake book and seeing the color photos.

  Can I bring The Teddy Bear Says Goodnight book?”

  “Perfect. I think that’s one of Sophie’s favorites.” Amy smiled in relief.

  “Mommy, some one’s knocking on the door.”

  “That’s probably Mike. Come down and meet him.”

  “Can I bring my books and my bear?”

  “Of course.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  He wiped his cheek and said, “Mommy
, you smell good.”

  “It’s the perfume I got for Christmas last year. Thanks, baby.”

  “Aw, I’m not a baby.”

  “I mean big guy.”

  Bobby grinned.

  ***

  Amy yanked open the front door and found Mike fumbling with a grocery bag.

  “Hey.” He smiled. Dressed in dark slacks and a white long sleeved shirt he looked like he could go back to work at any moment.

  “Come in.”

  She held open the screen door and he entered. Bobby stared at Mike and she realized the man was taller than she remembered. He must look huge to Bobby, though in her mind he was much smaller than Wyatt.

  “Hey kid.” Mike held a hand out to Bobby.

  Her son pressed closer to her and squeezed her leg.

  “Aren’t you going say anything to Mike?”

  Bobby stuck his thumb in his mouth and stared.

  Mike cleared his throat. “I brought you something. Instead of flowers, I got a bag of oranges for you, good vitamin C. I mean you live on an apple farm, so thought you might like a change—these were on sale.” He frowned. “Stupid I guess.”

  “No. It’s very uh—original. Bobby and I love oranges. And you’re right, being on an apple farm we haven’t had an orange in ages.” She grinned and took the bag. “I’ll just put them in the kitchen. Bobby, why don’t you show Mike your book?”

  “Do you have a horsy?”

  “No. Can’t stand the smelly animals.”

  “I like horses.” Bobby stomped his foot. “They’re nice.”

  Amy heard the conversation from the kitchen, and quickly rushed back to the living room before Bobby could say anything else. She was just in time to see Bobby step closer to Mike.

  “Want to see my book?”

  “Okay.”

  “This is my favorite one.” Bobby handed Mike the book with the page open to the color plate of the poisonous snakes.

  “Get that away from me.” Mike knocked the book from Bobby’s hand.

  Bobby screamed.

  Amy ran to pick up the book.

  Mike’s face reddened.

  “I don’t like him.” An expression of disgust spread across Bobby’s young face. “Can I watch Lady and the Tramp?”

  “Good idea. I’ll tell you when Sophie gets here.”

  Bobby ran into the den.

  “Don’t like snakes much.” Mike shrugged and ran his hand over his chin.

  “I don’t blame you. My history with them hasn’t been a happy one. But I don’t want Bobby afraid of them.”

  Mike stared at her.

  Well, this meeting went as well as a train wreck. She remembered how Bobby and Wyatt had connected the first time they saw each other. Don’t go there.

  “I think I hear a car.” She hurried to greet Sophie. It’s was going to be a very long evening.

  ***

  Mike held the door open to the Italian Village Restaurant. “The food’s great here. The best Sierra Creek has to offer. But not as fantastic as you look tonight.” He grinned.

  She might have scoffed, but she saw by his expression, he meant what he said. Self-consciously, she adjusted the strap on her green tank top and smoothed her short multicolored skirt. “Thanks. It’s been a long time since I’ve dressed up.”

  “You should do it more often.”

  His glance chilled her.

  Quickly, she walked into the restaurant. The aroma of fresh baked pizza and red wine greeted her. People’s voices and Italian folk music mingled pleasantly in the room. Though dimly lit, she saw the hand painted scenes of Tuscany that covered the plaster walls. People sat at the red and white cloth covered tables. Lights from the twinkling candles, set in the middle of the tables, sent shadows flickering on their smiling faces.

  “Hey Mike, haven’t seen you for a while,” A forty-something maitre d’ said, “Saved a good table for you.”

  The man pulled out a chair for Amy at a table much too close to the dark corner of the room. She noticed the man winked at Mike before he left. “Your waiter will be here soon,” he tossed the words over his shoulder as returned to the front of the room.

  After they ordered, Amy leaned back in the chair a sipped her glass of Chianti. The wine warmed her and left her feeling less tense. Mike was just finishing his second glass of wine.

  “So how do you like working at the grocery store?” she asked, not really wanting to know, but trying to be polite.

  “It’s good.” Mike perked up. “If I play my cards right, I’ll have a job for life.”

  “Wow. Not many people can say that in this economy. You’re lucky.”

  “Yeah. I worked in the store when I was in high school. After I graduated from Sac State I came back.”

  She tried to look interested.

  He kept talking, explaining the ins and outs of the grocery business. She said “yeah” at what she hoped were the appropriate times. She admired his enthusiasm for his work. Though he was a nice guy, she was having trouble raising any passion for him.

  Many women would love to be at an expensive restaurant having dinner with a single, employed, good looking guy. And he was paying for the meal. Why wasn’t she pleased? As Mike continued the premonition of a long night loomed again. She suppressed a sigh and pushed down the wish to be at home reading a nighttime book to Bobby.

  “The margins are small. People don’t know that.” Mike’s voice raised in volume. “Everybody has to eat. Right? They see the store congested with people and assume were making a ton of money. But that isn’t necessarily true. You have to buy right. Cause produce goes bad and so does milk and yogurt. It’s not as easy as you might think to run a store.

  “Well I—”

  “Your vegetarian lasagna.” A young waiter set a dish in front of her. “Careful. It’s very hot.”

  “Thanks. Smells wonderful.”

  She took a steaming bite and swallowed carefully. She could eat the mouth watering wheat pasta without worry that Bobby could somehow taste it and have a reaction to the gluten.

  Mike ate his mashed potatoes, meatloaf and mushroom sauce, talking between bites. He never once asked her a question about herself, no concern about how she was doing or how things were going on the farm.

  When she couldn’t eat any more, she took a sip of wine. Mike had eaten everything on his plate and had exhausted his monologue on the running of a grocery store.

  Now he was spouting statics of the San Francisco Giants Baseball team. And the memory of the day he got drunk when the Giants won the World Series in 2010. Presumably he’d had to work when the Giants won the 2012 World Series, because he made no mention of those games.

  She glanced up and found him smiling, but not at her. His warm grin was for his memories. The sound of his voice became white background noise. She even gave up nodding appropriately. He didn’t seem to notice if she did or not.

  Freed from the responsibility of answering or responding to his babble, she relaxed and gazed around the restaurant and took another sip of wine. How romantic the restaurant would be if she were with someone she cared about, like Wyatt.

  A young couple at the bar were kissing, “necking” as Granny used to call it. She watched. Not polite, but she couldn’t seem to stop.

  Movement in a dark corner caught her eye.

  “Wes, you’ve had enough to drink.”

  Wyatt‘s voice. The words sent a chard of pain running through her. She squinted to see further into the corner.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of here. That’s right Wes, stand up.”

  She watched him drag his brother to a standing position. It was too dim for Amy to see if he was embarrassed by his brother’s behavior, but his voice was composed.

  He was back in town. She wouldn’t have known he was in Sierra Creek if she hadn’t accepted the dinner invitation from Mike. She felt a sting and her chest tightened. He could’ve at least let Bobby know.

  “Bro, I need another drink.”

 
“You’ve had enough.” Wyatt took a deep breath.

  Wes swayed and moved from the bar into the main part of the room. She watched as he came closer to her table. He sagged and Wyatt pulled him up right.

  “You’re doing fine. Just keep moving.”

  Wes stopped at her table and glared. “Amy, you slut, you ho. What are you doing here? You’re not good enough to be in a respectable place like this.”

  Conversation in the restaurant stopped and the people stared at her. The silence grew. A waiter stood frozen, holding a tray of hot food. He gawked at her like the rest of the people in the room.

  “I won’t let you destroy his career. Leave Wyatt alone. Bitch.”

  She gasped.

  Wes lunged at her. Wyatt grabbed him. “That’s all. Get out.”

  Wyatt’s eyes met hers. Even in the low light of the restaurant, she could see his blue eyes flash, but she couldn’t read the emotion in them.

  He helped his brother navigate his way out of the restaurant. Her back crawled customers were still staring. At that moment she realized Mike was gapping at her too.

  “What the hell was that about?”

  “Uh.” Amy’s cheeks burned. In order not to make eye contact with any of the other patrons in the room, she looked down at her plate.

  Slowly the buzz of normal speech returned to the room, the sound of silverware being used and the tinkling of glasses could be heard.

  “Can’t stand a man who doesn’t hold his liquor.” Mike drank the last drop of wine and burped. “Watch who get involved with. You have your boy to protect. This isn’t San Francisco.” He set the empty glass on the table. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Amy bristled at his advice, but she bit her tongue. She wanted to do tell him to get his mind out of the gutter and show her some respect. But there’d been one scene in the restaurant tonight, there didn’t need to be another one.

  The ride back to the farm seemed longer than usual. Mike didn’t speak. She tried, but couldn’t think of much to say to him that wouldn’t start an argument.

  In the driveway he turned off the engine and glanced at her, his expression grim. “Amy, I’m a plain spoken man and I have simple plans for my life, marriage to a good woman and a big family.” He looked her in the eye. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school. I’ve thought about you—a lot. Maybe I let my fantasy of you get out of hand, but I expected more from you. You let me down.”