Zach is moving so fast you’d think his britches were full of fire ants. He looks like he’s a cross between mad and determined. When he reaches us, he says, “Emmie, I’d like a word.”
“I’m right here,” I say.
He looks at the uncles before adding, “In private.”
I immediately flashback to what happened the last time we were private, and a delicious wave of heat rolls over me. Of course, I’m pretty sure that’s not what he has in mind.
The uncles get all jumpy and Jesse says, “We were just heading to Bobbie Jean’s for some pie.” They’re off like ticks on a hot griddle.
“What can I do for you?” I ask Zach. I know what I’d like him to do for me, but there’s no way I’m going there. Plus, I’m mad at him for treating me like I’m not respectable.
“I’d like to take you out for dinner tonight,” he declares while staring me dead in the eye. Where did that come from?
“You would? Why?” I demand more than a little astonished. What about Shelby, I wonder?
“We have a few things we need to discuss,” he says all matter-of-factly.
“We do? What in the world do we need to talk about?”
“Are you available or not?” he asks.
“Well, I s’pose, but I’d have to bring Faye along. Mama and Auntie Lee are manning the ticket booth at the Ladies of the Creek fundraiser tonight.” It’s a group in town that raises money for the extras, like hosting the ice-cream socials at the pavilion in Frothingham park during the summer band concerts, buying those giant blue ribbons for the winners of the Creek Water Summer Carnival and Games, and supplying backpacks and shoes for local kids in need.
“That’s fine by me,” he says. “Mama says she’s a good baby.”
“Where should we meet you?” I ask. I’m more than a tiny bit uncertain if this is a business meeting or a personal thing. The only reason I’m saying yes is because it sounds like it’s probably business.
“I’ll pick you up. I’ll be at your mama’s at five thirty.” Then he walks off.
Before I can process what just happened, he turns around and comes back. “And just so you know, Shelby and I are not an item. She’s just trying to make Beau jealous.”
“You know that?” I ask.
“Of course, I know that.”
“Why in the world would you bother spending time with her if you know she’s just using you?” I ask.
He shifts nervously from side-to-side. “I’m just trying to help out a friend, is all.”
I know I’ve been hot and cold on Zach, but mostly because I feel like he’s been judging me about having a baby without a husband. On the surface, he appears to be a prize, if you don’t take his odd behavior around me into consideration. I wonder if it’s a chronic condition or if I just bring out the worst in him.
“And?” I demand. It’s none of my business, but I feel like there’s more to it than that.
“I know what it’s like to want someone who doesn’t want you back, and I thought it would be nice to stand up for the underdog.”
With a sigh, he clarifies, “I fell for someone pretty hard recently. I thought we had a really deep connection, but it turns out I was the only one to think so.” Thank goodness he isn’t talking about me and my rudely turning down his dance invitation all those years ago. I really do feel bad about that and wish I’d have been more upfront with him about why I said no. But let’s face it, at sixteen years old, I simply was not that eloquent.
I still don’t know if that makes our dinner a date or not, but it’s definitely ratcheting up my curiosity. “I’m sorry about your recent experience,” I say, unsure of the proper response to this information.
“You’ve had a big loss, too. You know heartache.”
The look on my face must be asking “what loss?” because he says, “Armand?”
“Oh, yes, Armand!” I shake my head and try valiantly to look like I’m still in deep mourning for the fabricated love of my life. “Yes, I’m just not sure I’ll ever be the same.”
“I can’t imagine a sadness of that magnitude. I’m truly sorry.”
“Thank you.” I’m the world’s worst actress. I understand why Auntie Lee perpetrated this myth; I really do. I know she only had my best interests at heart. And while I’m sure the club ladies would have raked me over hot coals of judgment, I’m not sure it’s worth having to live a lie of this magnitude. ’Cause let’s face it—they’re still judging me.
Zach says, “Well then, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”
“We’ll be waiting,” I say, possibly starting to wish this was a real date. Even though Zach gives me occasional disapproving looks, I know he could make some lucky gal a fine boyfriend. I say a brief prayer that Shelby won’t come to her senses and go after Zach instead of Beau. I don’t know what girl was stupid enough not to return Zach’s interest, but I do know he deserves better than someone from Cootie’s line.
When he gets about halfway to the door, Zach comes back again. “One more thing …” he says.
“Yes?” I stare at him expectantly.
“I’m sorry if I disrespected you in any way at the club yesterday. You know, in the locker room?”
Oh, my god, we’re going to talk about it? I thought I’d either imagined it or we’d decided by some unspoken agreement to pretend it never happened. “You mean when you helped me with my buttons?” I try to steer the conversation into safe territory.
“I never helped you with your buttons,” he says, taking another step closer to me.
“Well, you were going to before Cootie came in.” I unsuccessfully try to swallow down a basketball-sized lump forming in my throat.
He leans in and whispers, “I was going to do something before Cootie came in …” Then he sniffs the side of my hair and I have to reach out and hold onto his arms to keep my knees from giving out on me.
Spontaneous combustion is a thing, right? ’Cause right now my body is so hot, I’m pretty sure I could light a match. We’re standing there, in what can only be construed as some kind of lovers’ embrace, when Zach says, “I’ll see you tonight.” And he turns and walks away for good this time.
Chapter Nineteen
I’m useless the rest of the morning. I try to work out a proposal for the uncles, but my mind can’t seem to stray from the image I’ve created of Zach and me standing with our arms nearly wrapped around each another, and him saying, “I was going to do something before Cootie came in …”
I don’t know what he thought was going to happen, but I let myself imagine a whole slew of exciting possibilities. Hence, my inability to focus on my work. When Mama pushes the stroller in so I can nurse the baby, I tell her, “I’ll keep her. You take Daddy’s car and I’ll take yours, so I have her car seat.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Yeah. I’m gonna spend the day getting to know Creek Water again. I need to walk around the shops and see what kind of merchandise is already here, so I can advise the uncles on what our store should sell.”
“Good thinking, honey. You should hit the new shops on Main Street. They’ve mostly sprung up in the last couple of years.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Before she walks away, I add, “I have a meeting tonight, so if Faye and I aren’t home when you get back, don’t worry.”
“Okay, baby. I might be late, myself. I’m going to meet Jesse for supper after the fundraiser. I think he’s having lady problems he wants to discuss.”
“Love you, Mama.”
“Love you, too.” She gives Faye a kiss on the head and walks off. Mama looks like a ray of sunshine in her sleeveless summer dress. He hair doesn’t have a spot of gray in it yet, and her figure speaks to the amount of tennis she plays. It breaks my heart that she doesn’t have a man in her life.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think men are the end-all to-die-for, but Mama loved being married to Daddy. She’s one of those women who’s destined for romantic partnership, and it would be a real tragedy if
that part of her life had ended when she entered her thirties. Being that she’s only fifty, she has plenty of good years left.
After feeding Faye, I put her back in her stroller and head out into the beautiful June day. It’s already hot and muggy, which means it’s going to be a real scorcher of a summer. I point the baby carriage toward Amelia’s bead shop and leisurely amble up and down the streets of the Creek Water. It’s so different from how it was during my formative years. I find myself utterly charmed.
Bead It is on the corner of Main and Magnolia streets, just a few blocks from the old sewing machine factory. The store has a bohemian-chic vibe, like Amelia. There are brightly colored apothecary chests with tiny drawers full of colorful beads, Turkish rugs adorn the dark wood floors, and chandeliers with multi-colored crystals hang from the ceiling. This place would be an instant hit in the Village in New York City. I can’t imagine why my cousin doesn’t want to try her hand at an urban shop.
“Amelia!” I call when we walk in.
“I’ll be right out!” she replies from the back of the store.
I look at the display cases full of her jewelry and wonder where she gets it. It’s totally unique with large chunky stones you wouldn’t necessarily think would pair well. Amber and turquoise on their own are quite popular, but you rarely see them strung together, and it really works. She’s also got a line of black pearl and leather bracelets, and carnelians strung with hand painted beads on colorful silk cords.
Amelia walks through a beaded curtain. She’s wearing an embroidered peasant blouse with a long flowy skirt. Her sandy hair hangs straight down her back and she has a beaded headband wrapped across her forehead. “You look gorgeous, as always,” I declare.
She kisses my cheek. “Back at you, Em, even though you look like a Junior Club Lady. What’s going on with your prematurely middle-aged look?”
“Bite your tongue,” I admonish.
But she just looks me up and down as if to say, “really?” What she says is, “You’re just so conservative and prim-looking.”
“Amelia, I have giant boobs, thanks to nursing, and I’ve just come home with a baby and no husband. Believe me, I’m going to look like a wanna-be club lady for a while yet. Mama figures the less I give them to judge me on, the better. I’m inclined to think she might be on to something.”
“I say screw ’em. You don’t need to be anything other than who you are.”
“I agree with you wholeheartedly, in theory. In practice, it’s another matter. Now, enough about me, show me your store.”
She shows me everything. And when I ask who makes the beautiful jewelry in the front case, she says, “I do.”
I ask, “Would you be willing to put together a line for us to sell at the new store?”
“For your gourmet shop?” she asks.
“I’m not convinced it’s going to be a gourmet shop, yet. I’m thinking it’s going to be more of a gift/gourmet shop. I need to look around Creek Water to see if there’s a need that’s not being filled.”
“I’d be happy to have you sell my stuff there. I don’t get a lot of people in here who buy jewelry. They’re mostly here to learn how to make their own. Branching out into your place might be a way to draw them over to my shop.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Now, I’m going to go grab a coffee. Can I bring anything back for you?”
“No, ma’am, I only drink tea and I have plenty of that here. But if it’s coffee you’re after, you might want to try She Brews down the street. They’ve become quite popular.”
After leaving her store, as I’m about to cross the street, I catch sight of something that stops me dead in my tracks as tingles of annoyance dance down my scalp. Zachary Grant is sitting outside the frozen yogurt shop and he’s not alone.
Chapter Twenty
Why in the world is Zach having yogurt with Shelby Wilcox right after flirting up a storm with me? Is this a friendly thing or was he lying to me about not being interested in her? I’m torn between going over there to confront him and fleeing down the street in the opposite direction.
I don’t have a chance to make up my mind because Shelby catches sight of me and starts waving like she’s trying to signal a rescue ship from a deserted island. She’s making sure that I know she’s staked her claim. Meanwhile, Zach’s trying to duck off to the side, like I might not see him. Well, that does it, I have to go over there now.
I cross the street with my eyes trained on them the whole way to make sure Zach doesn’t try to leave. When I get to their table, I say, “Shelby, Zach, fancy meeting you here.” I let my eyes bore into Zach’s like I’m demanding answers.
Shelby looks at the baby, and completely out of character, and somewhat longingly, says, “My word, she’s simply beautiful, isn’t she?” She looks up like she’s surprised herself by saying that out loud. But she unexpectedly nods her head sharply like she’s decided to own it.
“Thank you, Shelby.”
She can’t seem to help herself and adds, “She must look like her daddy.”
“Yes, she does. She has his hair and his eyes.” I’m just guessing she does, as she doesn’t have mine.
“We were just discussing our weekend plans,” Shelby says. “I think we should go boating on the river and Zach thinks we should scurry away to St. Louis. What do you think we should do?”
Before anything untoward can come out of my mouth, ’cause believe me, I can think of a couple choice suggestions, I turn to Zach. He looks like he wants to crawl under the table to hide. He quickly explains, “I told Shelby I might need to go to St. Louis this weekend to pick up some supplies for the warehouse and she said she wanted to go along.” Then he turns to Shelby and says, “But I told her I didn’t think that was a good idea, so she suggested boating.”
The expression on Shelby’s face is priceless. She’s obviously shocked Zach would rat her out like that. She reaches across the table to hold his unresponsive hand, and says, “We’ll just figure it out later, when we’re private.” Then she eyes me like that time is now, and I’d best move along.
But I don’t want to move along. I’m thoroughly enjoying making them both uncomfortable. “Would y’all mind if I leave the baby here while I go order myself a yogurt?”
You’d think I’d just asked her to babysit my pet barracuda or something. The counter is only a few feet away and I can see them the whole time, I’m not actually counting on them to keep Faye alive. Also, she’s sleeping, so she won’t need anything for the next few minutes.
Zach smiles down at Faye almost wistfully, and says, “We’d be happy to.” That look and those words stir up some powerful longings inside me.
To cool myself down, I go and order a unicorn swirl, full of enough food coloring to tie dye an entire bolt of fabric. But it’s so pretty I can’t resist. Plus, maybe a little unicorn magic will rub off on me. Either that or I’ll grow a horn and discover I can fly. My life is an ever-changing array of surprises.
When I get back to the table, Shelby is in a near huff as I pull out a chair to join them.
“You’re sitting here?” she demands.
“I thought you waved me down so we could eat together,” I say innocently.
Zach unsuccessfully tries to stifle a laugh and Shelby shoots him a glare that says she’ll cut out his tongue if he dares. She forces a smile in my direction. “Seeing that you don’t have anyone else to eat with, you might as well join us.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” I say. Sweet like a boa constrictor.
“Yes, well, we all feel so sorry for you, Emmie. I mean getting yourself in such a state and all.” She shakes her head.
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me, Shelby. I’ve got a beautiful little girl and a wonderful family. If anything, I feel sorry for you.”
“Me?” she demands. “Why in the world would you pity me?”
“I heard how much you like my cousin Beau and that he just doesn’t feel the same way. It must be tough to have such deep feelings spurned
.”
Zach looks like he’s about to shoot yogurt out of his nose. He tries to mask his reaction by coughing, but you can tell Shelby isn’t buying it.
She stands up with her hands on her hips and says, “I’ll have you know, Emmeline Frothingham, that your cousin is not good enough for me. Do you hear me? And furthermore, how dare you? You’re nothing but trash!”
She turns to Zach and says, “I’m ready to go.”
He points to his yogurt. “I’m still eating. I guess I’ll catch you later.”
“Well, I never.” She shoots daggers between the two of us.
I smile sweetly and say, “Girl, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Then it’s just me and Zach.
Chapter Twenty-One
“You really put Shelby in her place, didn’t you?” Zach lets loose the mirth he’s been trying to contain.
“I swear, that girl just doesn’t know how to keep a civil tongue in her head.”
“Before you arrived, I was telling her that I didn’t think we should pretend to see each other anymore.”
“Really?” My eyes go all buggy. “Why?”
“I thought you knew,” he says. “I’ve met someone I’d like to get to know better, and I don’t think it would be respectful to her to be parading around town posing as Shelby’s boyfriend.”
My insides go all gooey like a freshly toasted marshmallow on a s’more. Until I wonder, he means me, right?
My heart races in triple time and my palms go all sweaty as I bravely ask, “Anyone I know?”
“I’m pretty sure.” His smile is devastating, but he doesn’t say anything else.
We finish our yogurt quietly, but not uncomfortably. We’re at ease sitting together without filling the space with sound. Until Faye wakes up, that is. That girl lets out a scream that could win her the starring role in a horror movie.
I immediately pick her up and bounce her on my knee, but that’s not what she wants. She wants to eat. I say, “I best take her to the bathroom and feed her. If you’ll excuse me.”
The Event Page 7
