The Book Charmer

by Karen Hawkins

  At the end of the counter, Tom reached into his coat and pulled out a flask. He poured a goodly measure into his coffee cup and then caught Grace’s gaze. He held up the flask in invitation.

  She shook her head and he shrugged and returned it to his pocket, then began to sip his coffee with obvious relish.

  Kat shot Grace a curious look. “I heard someone say Mama G was your foster mother.”

  “My sister and I lived with her since we were kids.” Grace held her mug between both hands, soaking in the warmth. “You know, until I started taking care of Daisy—or trying to—I never knew what a sacrifice Mama G had made, taking us in. She’s a freaking saint.”

  “I don’t know anything about parenting, except that I don’t think I could do it.”

  “I don’t think I can, either,” Grace admitted. “It’s difficult. Next time, I’m going to get a plant first, and see how I do with it. Then, if it’s still alive at the end of a year, I’ll move up to a fish. Then a parakeet. A cat. A bear. Finally, if all of those things are still alive at the end of a decade or two, I’ll get a kid.”

  Kat laughed. “That sounds legit. But you can’t be doing too bad with Daisy. Linda Robinson is at your house a lot. If you were doing something wrong, we’d all know about it.”

  “I’m bringing Linda dinner, so she’s hardly an unbiased witness.” Grace tucked her wet hair behind her ear. “By the way, thanks for joining me at the counter here and protecting me from Marian. That was nice of you.”

  “No problem. I’ve been telling everyone that we wouldn’t cut the festival budget if we didn’t have to, but it’s an uphill battle.”

  “I didn’t realize how attached everyone was to a simple street party.”

  Kat sliced her a critical glance. “It’s more than that. It’s a part of our history. And for some, a part of our future, too.”

  Grace thought about the shabby little town and then remembered the duffel bag she’d dragged onto Mama G’s porch all those years ago. The odds and ends Grace had been collecting had all been junk, but they’d made her feel as if she had a future. Was that how the people of Dove Pond felt about their festival?

  Sheesh. Everything was so complicated. She sighed and put down her coffee cup to rub her eyes and found herself battling a yawn.

  “You look like you could use a nap,” Kat said.

  “When Mama G doesn’t sleep well, neither do I. We had to install a lock on the doors to keep her from wandering off, and now every time I hear a creak, I jerk awake. It’s hard to get back to sleep after that.”

  “Sundowners,” Kat said with a knowing nod. “Trav’s father had it. I remember him telling Sarah about it when I was hanging out with Ava at their house.”

  Grace had an instant picture of the four of them sipping drinks, maybe cooking a meal together, all of them laughing and sharing their lives as friends do. A twinge of jealousy pinched her. That’s ridiculous. I don’t have time to parent Daisy, much less hang out with someone. She turned her attention back to Kat. “I hope the task list I handed out at the meeting wasn’t too much work.”

  “Not at all. I got through mine in just a few afternoons.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” Kat put her cup on the counter and watched the steam curl from it. “I have a degree in business management from Appalachian State. Making cold calls like that was an interesting exercise.”

  “That’s handy to have, working in real estate as you do.”

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But I joined my mother’s office, so we do things her way. She doesn’t have time for statistics or business plans or anything like that.” Kat made a face. “She thinks gift baskets and smiles will get her where she wants to go.”

  “But you don’t.”

  Kat shrugged. “She sells a lot of houses, so I guess there’s something in what she says. But whether she wants to admit it or not, there’s room for improvement.”

  “I take it you’ve told her that.”

  “It didn’t go over well. One day, I’m going to strike out on my own. But Mom’s got a lock on the residential market here in Dove Pond. On this whole county, in fact. I’d have to move at least as far away as Asheville if I wanted to succeed.” She gave a sour grin. “And since I really don’t want to leave Dove Pond, here I am.”

  “You like this town that much?”

  “I do. I grew up here and I know everyone.” She grimaced. “Sometimes habits, especially comfortable ones, can hold you back. Which is why it was fun working on your assignment.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I suspect you’ll be the only one.”

  Kat slanted Grace a curious look. “What gave you the idea to call all the businesses who’ve left Dove Pond?”

  “It seemed the quickest, most direct way to find out where we’ve failed.”

  Kat nodded thoughtfully. “I learned a lot. People love this town and would move back in a heartbeat, but we don’t have enough foot traffic. The communities outside of Asheville are full of big-box stores and outlet malls, and then you add e-sales on top of that—” Kat grimaced. “Small businesses get outpriced fast.”

  “And yet downtown Asheville is nothing but small businesses, all specialty shops, art galleries, and farm-to-table restaurants. They’re doing well.”

  “Asheville has its own vibe, and the stores reflect that.”

  “Maybe we need to find a vibe of our own.” Grace sipped her coffee. “The business owners who’ve left, they still had good things to say about Dove Pond?”

  “A lot of good things. They loved the quality of life, the people, the community—they were all heartbroken to have left.”

  “Interesting. That’s very helpful.”

  “Like I said, it was fun. I wrote a script, so I said the same thing to each of them.”

  “Nice.” Grace eyed Kat with new respect. “Would you mind sharing that with the committee at our next meeting?”

  “Sure. It makes me wonder why we can’t—” Her gaze locked on something over Grace’s shoulder.

  Grace turned and just caught sight of a BMW as it passed by on the street outside, the steady rain beating down on the roof. She turned back to Kat. “Was that someone you know?”

  Kat’s gaze dropped to her coffee mug. “A little.”

  It was such a huge lie that Grace couldn’t hide her disbelief.

  Kat looked irked. “Fine. I know him. More than a little.”

  “I see. I suppose here is where I’m supposed to say something positive about relationships or whatnot, but honestly, I don’t know a lot about them.”

  “You’ve never had a serious relationship?”

  “I haven’t had time. I worked my way through college and then had a full-time, seventy-hour-a-week job after that. And then my sister died and I became a parent, and then Mama G got sick—it’s been a whirlwind of relationship nonstarters. I’m the poster girl for the woman you don’t want to date.”

  Kat shook her head. “That’s quite a list of too-busy-for-your-own-good life happenings.”

  “Fortunately, I’m perfectly happy on my own.” Or so she’d been telling herself. “I just ordered takeout for dinner. That’s one of my biggest skills as a homemaker, ordering out. I’m damn good at it.”

  “Don’t knock it; that’s a good skill to have. Did you get the meatloaf plate?” At Grace’s nod, Kat tilted back her head and gave a blissful sigh. “My dad has homes in Paris, Lake Como, and Madrid, so I’ve eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world, but none can hold a candle to Jules’s meatloaf plate.”

  Jules was the cook and owner of the Moonlight and was even now working her magic at the grill. “It’s good meatloaf,” Grace agreed, lifting her cup of coffee.

  “Good? As our friend Linda Robinson would say, it’s an orgasm level of goodness.”

  Grace, who’d just taken a sip, almost choked.

  Kat gleamed with satisfaction, her brown eyes shimmering with humor. “Seriously orgasmic.”

>   And in that moment, Grace understood the Carter gift. Sarah had said that the Carter women had the power to make men of wealth and power fall in love with them, and just now, Grace had caught a glimmer of it. Kat had the kind of brunette beauty commonly associated with 1940s movie stars, and the curvy, long-lashed, and sleepy-eyed sensuality one saw in pinup girls of a bygone era. But it was more than that. It was the warm and intimate way Kat looked at a person. It was as if everything she said was for you and you only. Men would lap that up, Grace thought. And fast.

  Kat picked up her cup of coffee, her gaze moving back to the door. As she did so, a deep sadness erased the humor from her expressive face.

  Grace wished she knew what to say, but nothing came to mind. This was where being a loner hurt; she didn’t know what to say in this situation and, to be honest, a lot of other situations, too. I should say something impersonal, something to distract her. “To be honest, I’m beginning to question my decision about the festival budget.”

  Kat’s gaze flew to meet Grace’s. “Really?”

  Grace looked around to make sure no one was listening and realized that Tom had moved a stool closer. She frowned at him before returning her gaze to Kat. To make sure no one could hear, Grace bent nearer and said in a low voice, “I don’t want to say anything before the meeting, because it might get people’s hopes up and I don’t want to let everyone down again. But maybe reducing the festival budget wasn’t the best idea. It’s just that if we don’t take the money from there, I don’t know where else we’ll find it.”

  “I know,” Kat said glumly. “Zoe’s already looked and she said the budget’s too tight as it is.”

  Grace leaned back and sighed. “Maybe we could find sponsors for the festival. That would answer the problem, at least for this year.”

  Kat winced. “I don’t like the idea of corporate sponsors. I don’t think anyone else in Dove Pond would, either. It would lose its personality if you did that.”

  “The Apple Festival has a personality?”

  “Lord, yes. Surely there’s some sort of record in town hall that’ll tell you all about it?”

  “All I’ve seen is in that one folder from Mrs. Phelps. It has the event list, receipts, and flyers from the past few years, but that’s it.”

  Kat’s gaze grew thoughtful. “You should talk to Sarah. The town archives are in the library basement. I’m sure there’s information on the festivals there.”

  Grace looked at her coffee mug. “Could you help with that? You could talk to Sarah tomorrow and then report at the meeting—”

  “Hold on.” Kat’s gaze had narrowed. “What’s going on? Why don’t you want to talk to Sarah?”

  “I don’t mind talking to Sarah,” Grace said.

  Kat raised her eyebrows.

  “Okay, okay. I think I may have made her mad.”

  “You can’t make Sarah Dove mad. She’s the nicest person in the world. The most positive one, too.”

  “Yeah, but apparently I’m not a nice person, nor a particularly positive one. And I was mad after that prank she and Zoe pulled to get me to take the chairmanship back.”

  “I helped, too,” Kat said.

  “I’m mad at you, too, then.”

  “You’re still talking to me,” Kat pointed out. “You’re talking to Zoe, too. I saw the two of you sitting on that bench in front of the bank yesterday, going over some papers.”

  “Fine, fine. To be honest, I’m not mad at you or Zoe. I’m just mad at Sarah.”

  “It was Zoe’s idea. Sarah and I just helped. Actually, I helped. Sarah didn’t have much to do with it.”

  Kat wasn’t saying anything Grace hadn’t already thought. “I can’t explain it to myself, much less you. It just bothered me more that she was a part of it. And then she wanted to carpool.”

  Kat waited.

  So Grace added, “I didn’t want to. So I told her no, but she kept showing up and . . .”

  “And?”

  “I left for work late so I wouldn’t have to drive her.”

  “Oh.”

  “More than once.”

  Kat raised her brows.

  “Okay, okay, I did it five times.”

  Kat flinched.

  But Grace wasn’t through. “And one morning, I may have dropped to the ground because I saw her coming and she may have found me there.”

  “On the driveway?”

  “Yes. Laid out like a rug. It was so embarrassing.”

  “That was mean.”

  “I know! I’m horrible!” Grace covered her eyes. “I just couldn’t—but she’s so happy in the morning, and I hate that. But really”—Grace dropped her hand—“I didn’t want her to expect stuff from me.”

  “Like what? A ride?”

  “Oh, come on. You know how it is. You do something for someone once, and then they expect you to do it every day after that. So many people have expectations of me right now—Mama G and Daisy and work. I just couldn’t handle one more.”

  “So tell her that. She’ll understand.”

  “I know, I know. But it may be too late.” Grace put her elbow on the counter and dropped her chin in her hand. “I saw her before I came here, and she didn’t wave.” Which had bothered Grace a lot.

  Kat shook her head slowly. “I can’t believe you made Sarah Dove mad. No one has ever been able to do that. She sees the best in everyone. I mean, it’s uncanny.”

  Grace nodded miserably.

  “You’re a piece of work. I wish I could help you with this one, but you’re on your own.” Kat tilted her head to one side. “But can I point something out to you?”

  “What’s that?” Grace said glumly.

  “You’re exhausted. I can see it from here. And I know you feel like the world wants too much from you. God, I don’t know what I’d do if I had your responsibilities. So you’d think that you, being a managerial sort, would do what you do best—collect a good team of people around you to tackle the problem. Sarah is exactly the sort of person who would bring you soup if you were sick, or sit with your niece when you had to work late, or bring dinner because you mentioned you were tired. She’s the sort of person we all want on our team, and yet you’ve chased her off because she’s too happy in the morning.”

  It sounded so petty when Kat said it that way. Grace sighed. She knew she was being ridiculous, but at the time, her actions had been an honest reflection of her feelings. “Look, even if Sarah and I carpooled, I wouldn’t ask her to help with Daisy or Mama G or dinner or any of those things. That would be too much. I just met her. I couldn’t ask for her help with something like that.”

  Kat rolled her eyes. “Boy, do you have a lot to learn about friendship.”

  “We’re not friends.”

  “You would be, if you’d just try.”

  “What do you—”

  The bell dinged. “Order’s up!” Marian brought Grace’s to-go order and stacked the dinners on the counter. “I’ll put them in two bags. The one with the knot in the handle will be Linda’s.”

  “I’d better get going.” Kat stood and put some money on the counter. “Grace, do yourself a favor and apologize to Sarah. And then see what she has in that vault of hers about the Apple Festival. She’ll be tickled pink to share it with you. She loves those old books and papers.”

  “You’re right. I have to talk to her. I’ll go tomorrow.” Grace stood and pulled out her wallet. She paid the bill, collected the bags, said goodbye to Marian, and followed Kat through the café. “I suppose it won’t kill me to have friends.”

  As they walked, Kat said over her shoulder, “You don’t need scores of friends. You need only one . . . the right one.”

  The words tickled a memory somewhere deep in Grace’s mind and she stopped. Where had she heard them before? She couldn’t quite— Oh yes. The quote hadn’t been about friends, but about suitors. You need only one . . . the right one. She’d read those very words in Little Women.

  The book kept popping up in her life in the
most disconcerting ways. I need to return that ridiculous thing to the library. For a weird moment, Grace wondered if it would let her.

  Grace realized that Kat was already at the door, so she hurried to catch up. She’d just hung the bags on a hook so she could pull on her raincoat when the door swung open and Trav walked inside. His hair was wet and slicked back, and he wore a damp T-shirt that clung to him in ways a mere T-shirt shouldn’t. As he walked past her, he favored her with a dark stare as if irked to find her there.

  She started to say something snarky in return, but a perky blonde wearing a too-low-cut shirt hurried past her. “Trav! There you are. I got a table over here.” She linked her arm in his and practically dragged him away, cutting a hard look at Grace as she went.

  Without sparing either of them another glance, Grace tugged on her raincoat, reclaimed her dinners, and pulled her umbrella from the stand. She went outside, Kat close behind. It was after-shower cool, everything looking washed and fresh.

  “Lisa Tilden is a pain,” Kat announced. “She’s a massage therapist at some spa in Asheville, and a total flake. But wow, does she have it bad for Trav.”

  “It doesn’t look like he’s avoiding her.”

  “Chances are she invented some sort of emergency so he’d meet her. Where Trav is concerned, she’s a desperate sort of woman.” Kat sent Grace a curious glance. “You and Trav barely said hello. You haven’t pissed him off, too, have you?”

  “He’s not much of a talker.” She shrugged as if she didn’t care, and indeed, she didn’t. Much.

  “I’ve always liked Trav. His father had the same illness as Mama G. He might be of more help than you think.” Kat leaned forward. “That means he would be another good member for your team.”

  “Maybe,” Grace muttered. But Kat was wrong about this one. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Perpetually Scowling liked his privacy just as much as she liked hers, and that was perfectly fine. She glanced back at the café, where he sat with the clinging woman, and was surprised to find him looking at her. Their gazes caught and locked, and Grace had an instant impression of a spark, long and bold, arcing between them.