Charmed Life (12 page)

“That’s what I thought when I saw the previews. Look, Freddy,” Theresa said calmly. “I know you’re worried. But give it some times. You …. You …” Theresa tilted her head. “Hey, you’re the new guy that just moved in with that blonde woman.”

“That’s me.”

“Is she the one missing?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Not anymore, did you check across the street at the café. I just saw her when I went to get coffee.”

Freddy gasped out an ‘oh!’ and grabbed his chest in relief. “You are Lodi’s finest. Thank you, dear.”

“You’re very welcome.”

With dashing speed, Freddy ran from the police station, looked both ways and crossed the street. He felt very small town like when he raced across the park to the café.

As soon as he neared the coffee shop, he could see Grace sitting inside at a table by the window. Reaching for the door, Freddy stopped. He jumped back, and looked again at the window. His hands slammed to the glass, she was sitting with a man.

Grace saw him and waved.

Freddy walked in. “Princess, I was worried sick. I got home, you weren’t there, I searched.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be back yet.”

“I thought you were kidnapped, I went to the police, filed out a missing person’s report. Met a lovely woman named Theresa with hard hair.”

Grace chuckled. “I’m sorry; I should have left a note.”

Bobby stood and extended his hand to Freddy. “Bobby Dawson. And you are?”

“Not as hot as you.” Freddy shook is hand. “Freddy.”

Bobby shook his head with a laugh. “You can join us if you like.”

“Is this a date?” Freddy asked.

Grace answered. “Coffee. The sink broke today and Bobby came and screwed my pipe back on.”

Freddy’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, he pointed. “Dawson. Are you Polly and Clyde’s son?”

“Yes,” Bobby answered.

Grace asked. “You know Polly and Clyde?”

“Everyone does,” Freddy replied. “They own the hardware store. If you go out more often, you’d know this. She doesn’t get out, Bobby. How long have you two been having coffee?”

Grace looked at her watch. “Holy cow, over an hour.”

“You don’t say,” Freddy rubbed his chin. “Well, I’ll let you two be, I’m going back home. I got you buttered popcorn so you can eat and be inspired. I hear Anne Rice eats popcorn while she creates. Did she tell you she is writing a conspiracy novel?”

“She did. I can’t wait to read it,” Bobby replied.

“Bobby’s an artist.” Grace said. “Painter.”

Bobby winced and held up his hand. “I paint houses.”

“Bobby,” Grace said. “How many times do I have to tell you? Painting scenery counts.”

Freddy smiled. “Isn’t she just so cute, Bobby?”

“Actually, yeah.” Bobby smiled at her.

“Yes.” Freddy opened the door. “Oh, before I forget. As I was saying, she doesn’t get out much. She’s off this evening. You should ask her for a date.” Before any response could be made, Freddy was out the door.

Her hands shot to her face in embarrassment and Grace slid in the chair. “I’m sorry about Freddy.”

“No, he’s seems nice.” Bobby reached across the table. “So do you want to go out tonight?” He grabbed hold of Grace’s hand, sliding it down. “What do you say?”

“You don’t know me.”

“What better way,” Bobby said. “Besides, you’re new in town, cute, and I want to ask you out before Craig Barnet does.”

“Ok.” Grace smiled. “I’d love to go out with you. Sounds fun.” She paused and titled her head. “Who’s Craig Barnet?”

Bobby only responded with a waving finger, smile and a look of ‘you’ll see’.

+++

“That’s Craig Barnet,” Bobby pointed as he and Grace walked in the bar.

Craig Barnet wore a cowboy hat that tipped just perfectly down across his forehead. He looked like a cross between a country singer and movie star. As he walked by, women swooned.

The Hubba Balloo Saloon was the newest rage and establishment in the Medina area, Karaoke twice a week, the rest country music and dancing.

Peanut shells were on the floor, and baskets of peanuts set on the table. Patrons were encouraged to toss the shells.

A corral appeal, the Hubba had thick wood decor and thick wood tables.

Grace looked at the ‘No peanuts on the Dance floor’ sign, as she took her seat. “This is … this is interesting.” She looked around.

“You look like you feel out of place,” Bobby said.

“Well, I’ve never been to a country place before. Actually, I’ve never been anywhere where people drink beer out of bottles. Actually …” She said fluttered her lips. “I don’t recall being anywhere where people drank beer.”

“You’re kidding.”

Grace shook her head and watched Bobby sigh out and roll his eyes. “What?”

“Freddy said to take you some place country. This is as country as country gets. Was he starting trouble?”

“No, he just wants me to experience new things, that’s all. He wasn’t misleading you on purpose.”

“If you want to go …”

“No. No, this seems fun. Not sure I can dance. I ballroom dance, but
 
...”

“Ballroom dance?” Bobby asked with a snicker. “Really?”

“Yeah, took lessons. But I’m not sure I can country dance. I’d like to learn.”

“They have line dancing lessons here every Friday night, maybe you and I can go.”

Grace smiled. “Bobby, maybe you ought to see how this goes tonight before you make the determination that you want to see me again.”

“Ok, you’re right.” He chuckled. “What would you like to drink?’

“You know what? I’m gonna try beer in a bottle.” Grace gave a single nod and folded her hands on the table. “Beer in a bottle for me please.”

“You got it. I’ll be right back.” Bobby walked over to the bar.

Grace took in the room. She watched that Craig Barnett. He kept looking over at her. Maybe he found her interesting because her hair wasn’t big. She absorbed the country music, trying to determine if she could dance to it and how.

“Here you go.” Bobby set the beer on the table. “One beer in a bottle.”

“Wow, this is so cool.” Grace lifted it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get something to eat. I planned on taking you to dinner.”

“Sorry, Freddy made that delightful salad … but if you’re hungry. Why don’t you eat?”

“I may get wings. How do you like them?”

“What wings? Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. I never had them.”

“You never had wings? Ever.”

“Nope.”

“Wow. What a sheltered life. I’ll tell you what? I’ll get them mild to start off with.”

“Ok.” Grace was congenial.

“Be right back.” Again, Bobby dashed to the bar, this time Grace watched him, he spoke to the bartender, pointed at the table and hurried back. Sitting down, he lifted his beer. “To a great night.” He held it to Grace.

She lifted her bottle and clinked it with a snicker. Then came the problem. She brought it to her lips and paused. At first, she hovered her mouth over the opening of the bottle, then brought her lips down to the bottle. Paused again, lifted the beer to her mouth, and began to tilt it toward her. Before any liquid flowed down her chin. She stopped. “How does one drink beer from a bottle in lady like manner?”

Bobby smiled and slid a glass forward. He grabbed her bottle and poured the contents inside. “This is how.”

She giggled. “You’re funny.”

“Actually, Grace, no I’m not. You are.”

“No I’m not.” She sipped the beer. “Oh, this is good and cold. I never had beer before.”

“Ok. Stop.” Bobby formed a ‘T’ with his hands. “Never had beer, never had wings?”

“I just had Popeye’s fried chicken for the first time in my life.”

“Holy hell, we have to get you to experience the finer, cheaper things in life.”

“I’d like that.”

“So, Grace, I’m gonna take it you don’t have any kids.”

Grace shook her head. “No.” She brought her glass to her lips. “You?”

“Three.”

Grace choked and spit out.

“Sorry.” Bobby handed her a napkin.

Grace shook her head and wiped her mouth.

“I usually tell that little tid bit first before I ask someone out. I should have. Sorry.”

“No. No, that’s Ok. Three kids. Holy shit. Wow. Where do they live?”

“With me.”

“You raise them.”

“With the help of my mother and father, yeah. My ex just up and left. Must be a woman thing, you know, running away and needing to start a new life … and I’m sorry.”

“That’s OK. It’s all the new rage, you know,” Grace said. “Cosmo is preaching it. So what do you have? Boys? Girls?”

“All girls. Three, five, and eight.”

“Bet they’re nice girls.”

Bobby inhaled. “Um, sure. So … do you want to have kids some day?”

“I’d love to have kids someday. Not quite sure how well I’d be as a mom. I probably suck. Maybe that’s why I can’t have them.”

“Oh, my God, that’s sad. You can’t have kids?”

“Nope. When I was sixteen I was hunting with my father, and I got shot by another hunter who mistook me.”

“You were shot hunting? That’s bizarre.”

“And the truth.”

“So did you keep hunting?”

“Please, once a hunter always a hunter. I love to shoot. I’m better at small game.”

“That is so great. You never had beer or wings, but you hunt.”

“Go figure. I loved a sheltered and pampered life. Even when we hunted it was with the best stuff.”

“You shoot well?” He asked.

“I was born with a gun in my hand. Ok, not born, but one was put in my hand as soon as I could hold it. Hell, my father is …. My father is an avid gun guy.”

“This is such a positive to you,” Bobby said. “Shit. Don’t look now.”

Grace did.

Craig walked over. “Hey, ya’, Bobby, who’s your friend?”

“Craig this is Grace.”

Craig held out his hand. “New in town?”

Grace nodded.

“Wow, anyone ever tell you that you have an uncanny resemblance to Cara Mia Benson.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “Who?”