Coming Up Daffy (4 page)
Authors: Sandra Sookoo
Roger hooted with laughter. “You should know. Remember when you invited your sister to stay with us, and we'd not been married six months?”
The beauty parlor maven rolled her eyes. “I'll never be able to forget.”
Alice held her breath as long strands of hair fell onto the smock. “Mark did mention he might be looking for a place to rent soon. I guess it's true.” She chewed her bottom lip as Doris continued to clip. “It's a shame, though. It's not like this town is a real estate hotbed. Only a few houses for rent and a handful of apartments scattered about.”
“True enough. Folks keep property in the family. Plus, you can't expect young people to stay in one place forever.” Doris traded her scissors for a blow dryer.
Why not? I was born and raised in Francesville. I don't want to live anywhere else.
Another stab of annoyance lanced through Alice's chest. It was no one's business what Mark wanted to do with his life. If he was happy, nothing else mattered. At least, she hoped she believed that if faced with the same situation.
By the time Doris had shut off the blow dryer, Alice had come to a conclusion: she'd track Mark down and ask him out. Regardless of his seemingly dead-end job or paper-thin aspirations, he might be a fun person to hang out with. Then again, it didn't matter to her. She wasn't looking for forever.
“All right, honey. I'm just going to put some product in your hair and you'll be good to go.” Doris squeezed a dollop of something into her palm, rubbed her hands together, then passed them through Alice's cut tresses. The hair now fell to her shoulder in enticing ringlets, plus the wispy bangs highlighted a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“Oh, wow. It looks nice.” Alice leaned forward. She combed her fingers through the strands. “I might have to put on make-up to go with the hair.”
Doris snorted. “Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts.” She lightly sprayed Alice's head with hairspray. “I think you have too much fun being in the dirt. Getting dolled up probably isn't in your nature, and it certainly won't mesh with the plants.”
How did a person respond to such criticism? Having no answers, Alice merely sat still with her jaw slightly open.
“Okay.” Doris whipped off the smock. Hair clippings fell to the floor. “You're done.”
Alice scooted off the chair and had her debit card out of her pocket before Doris wandered over to her computer. “Thanks. At least it's not ratty anymore.” She'd have to think long and hard before coming back to
His-n-Hers
again. Criticism had its place, but she didn't need it in every topic of conversation she discussed.
Her cellphone chirped. Alice pulled it out while Doris rang up the haircut. The text message was from her dad, asking if she'd bring home a roll of heavy duty silver tape and batteries. His flashlight was on the fritz. She sighed. Of course she would.
I really need my own life.
****
Mark spied Alice popping into
Everything You Need
, the tiny grocery store that claimed to have enough on hand that anyone could make a quick dinner. Their slogan was “if we don't have it, you didn't need it.” Except, she seemed different from the morning. After abruptly swinging the pick-up into a public parking lot, he shut off the engine and hopped out, determined to talk to Alice this time around and ask her out.
The grocery store boasted four hundred square feet, and by the time the shelves of dry goods and sundries were added plus a small, cold meat and dairy case as well as the front checkout counter, there was enough room for two aisles. Mark grinned. There was nowhere for her to hide. He came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Alice.”
She whirled around, clutching a roll of heavy duty silver tape to her heart. “Sweet fancy Moses.” A blush crept over her cheeks, but she smiled. “You scared the living tar out of me.”
“Sorry.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker.
“What are you doing here? I figured you'd be running the bait shop at this time of day.”
“I was. Grandma sent me into town to pick up a package for her at the post office.” He readjusted his ball cap on his head. “Besides, I forgot to ask you something while you were at the farm this morning, so when I saw you come in here⦔
“Oh?” Her blue eyes were wide with expectation. “What's that?”
He couldn't figure out what was different about her. Something about her hair maybe? It wasn't in a ponytail, but she seemed to glow. Was that possible? Had she always had that hair swooping down over one eye? A feeling of floundering swamped him. Why did talking to a pretty woman always have to be so hard? “Uh, I was wondering if you'd like to go out⦠sometime?”
“Sure.” She nodded which set her hair bouncing. The curls just begged him to touch them, but he conquered the urge. “I hoped you'd ask.”
“You did?” When an older gentleman came down the aisle, Mark shuffled closer to Alice and caught a whiff of her floral scent. If he wanted to, he could tuck her against him, and she'd fit perfectly with her head against his chest. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets. It wouldn't do to be
that
guy, the one who rushed to be touchy-feely with a girl so soon. “Why?”
Her smile widened. “Because I wanted to ask
you
out.”
“How come you didn't?” How cool. He'd never had a woman want to ask him out before. His stomach clenched. Was that a good or bad thing?
Alice shrugged. She retreated down the aisle and snagged a four-pack of DD batteries. “My dad wouldn't be happy about that.” When she rolled her eyes, Mark felt her exasperation. “Dad's old-fashioned. He thinks it's the man's responsibility to ask a woman out, pay for dinner, and generally treat her like a queen. He doesn't understand that times have changed, and we're fully capable of taking care of ourselves.”
“Well, I can't say that I blame him.” Mark battled against caveman tendencies he never knew he harbored. He was two steps away from tucking Alice under his arm and carrying her out to his truck for no other reason than to be alone with her. Something about the petite florist brought out a possessive streak. He cleared his throat while shoving those thoughts aside. “We poor men have little opportunity to be manly or heroic these days. It's actually kind of nice to be able to treat a girl once in a while.”
“I can see that.” She cocked her head to one side while the older guy one aisle over snorted with laughter. “So, do you want to go out for lunch? Thanks to the llama incident and the stop into the hair salon, I've already frittered away half the day. I might as well start the second half with lunch.”
Knots formed in his gut. A date so soon? Crud, did she consider lunch with him a date? He thought he'd have time to psych himself into it or at least have time to worry about what to say. “Okay. Sounds good.” Mark followed her to the checkout counter and waited patiently as she paid for the two items. Once they'd exited the store, he said, “Where to? My truck is in public parking.”
“No need. Let's go across the street to the diner.” She led the way into the street with apparently no thought to oncoming traffic. “I'm in the mood for a nice, greasy cheeseburger. It's a good stress buster.”
Mark plunged across the road after her. He held up a hand in apology to a driver who had to slam on his brakes. Had she noticed the car or did she care? He frowned. Chances were she completely spaced the fact she'd stepped into the road. “What are you stressed about? I didn't think flowers were that demanding.”
“I had a less than stellar experience at
His-n-Hers
this morning.” She didn't elaborate. Instead, she pulled open the door to the diner â whose name was really
The Diner
â and entered.
Obviously, talking and interacting with the pretty blonde had a huge learning curve. She really was a bit daffy. Mark followed after her and soon settled into a booth across from her. By the time they'd both been given menus, a light bulb went off in his brain. “You got your hair cut.” This time, he really looked at her. Instead of the long ponytail, her hair fell to her shoulders, each curl defined and bouncing with a life of its own. “I like the wispy things around your face.” He gestured to his own head in case she didn't understand him. Realizing he still wore his hat, he whipped it off and casually threw it onto the bench beside him.
“They're called bangs, and thanks.” Alice rolled her eyes. “I'm still getting used to them.” She scanned her menu. “According to the woman who cut my hair, my new style doesn't go with my gardening job.”
Mark's jaw fell open. “She said that?”
“Yup.”
“What did you say?” He couldn't imagine anyone insulting Alice. She seemed to be, to use a term from his grandma, a peach.
“Nothing. Besides, what could I say that wouldn't result in ugly words?”
The arrival of the waitress temporarily interrupted the conversation. Alice ordered a cheeseburger and a soft drink, while Mark ordered the same except with iced tea. Once the server left, Alice continued.
“It's all right. She probably doesn't realize how critical she is.”
“That sort of person always does.” Mark reeled that someone had been outright rude. “For what it's worth, I think the haircut looks great on you.” He held her gaze, hoping he'd gotten his point across. “You were pretty before. Now you're gorgeous.”
Does that sound as lame to her as it does to me?
“Thanks.” She dropped her gaze but not before another blush swept across her cheeks. “So, do you have any plans for the future?”
Mark struggled while his brain tried to adjust to the abrupt change in subject. “What, for this afternoon, next week, next month?”
“I mean the future. Your life. The bait shop specifically. Is that what you want to do? Talk around
His-n-Hers
says you've got a degree in business.”
“I'm not sure, and yeah, I do. Dad was adamant both Matt and I go to school, as a back-up plan, I guess. Afterward, I still didn't have a clue what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, so here I am.” He thanked the server as she brought drinks to their table and then frowned at Alice. “I enjoy working at the bait shop, but to be honest, it's not fulfilling, and it certainly won't net me enough income to tuck away for savings.” Why did she want to know, and more importantly, why had he been a topic of conversation at the salon? Did it mean she was interested in him for a long-term commitment? His chest tightened. Was
he
interested in that? And what did she think about a guy who sold live bait for a living? “And I sure don't want to run the farm if Matt all of a sudden decides he doesn't want it anymore.”
“What do
you
want to do?” Alice peeled the paper from her straw, carefully balled the wrappings, then deposited them on the tabletop before plunging the straw into her beverage. “If you were able to walk away from the bait shop, what would you do for money?”
“I haven't thought about it.” He ripped the paper from his own straw. “Grandma has pretty much decided I'm the bait guy. Once she kicks off, I'll own it free and clear.” He shrugged and took a sip of tea. “At least then I'll have total say on what we stock and carry. It's not a bad gig, but⦔ Did he really want to have this conversation now?
“But what?”
Again, he paused while the server placed plates of food in front of them. Immediately, Alice reached for the ketchup bottle. She squirted a big dollop of the red stuff on top of her fries. Mark thanked the waitress then removed the pickles from his burger. Alice promptly appropriated them, adding them to her burger before taking a huge bite. His heartbeat kicked into a quicker rhythm. Watching Alice eat with unabashed enjoyment instead of taking little bird bites like most women did on first dates sent warmth crashing into his chest. Maybe this dating thing wouldn't be as bad as he thought.
“Here's what I'd love to do if I had the time and money.” He picked up his cheeseburger while Alice took another bite of hers. “There's a lake in the next county where you're allowed to rent motor and pontoon boats. I'd love to expand the bait business and offer fishing lessons.”
Alice washed her swallow down with a swig of her soft drink. As she lifted her hand to brush the bangs from her eyes, a huge splotch of ketchup marred her sleeve. “Will doing the fishing thing make you happy?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. I'd have to try it first.” He took a bite and chewed but didn't taste his burger. Staring at Alice occupied every one of his brain cells. A tiny drop of mustard sat at the corner of her mouth, and it mocked him. It took all the willpower he possessed not to lean across the table and lick it away. Of course, then he'd be obliged to kiss her angelic mouth. How could he not? The more he stared at her mouth â and holy cow she was talking but he had no idea what she babbled about â the more he thought kissing her was a good idea. Would her rosy lips be soft and plush?
“Aw, man.”
The vehement statement from Alice brought him back to the moment. She dabbed at a streak of soda she'd spilled down the front of her shirt. Mark quickly averted his eyes before his over-active imagination told him to offer his help in wiping up the wetness. Was she naturally clumsy and as nervous as he â or even as daffy as the rumors said â and if she was, did it bother him?
“Alice?” He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. What was wrong with him? It was a date not a death sentence.
“Yeah?”
“Are you working tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday, but he had a plan. Not only would he find out if teaching fishing was a feasible side business but he'd also have the chance to spend more time with Alice. From the way his body behaved as well as his imagination, she could very well have long-term potential.
“Um, if I can fill all the flower orders tonight so my assistant can deliver them in the morning, then I'll be off. Why?” She tossed the soiled napkins onto the table and grinned. “Wanna do something?”
Mark nodded. He fiddled with a fry while his brain raced to form actual words. “Come on out to the farm tomorrow morning. Right after I feed the llamas, I'll take you fishing, you know, if that's something you'd be interested in.”
“I've never done it so I guess we'll both see, but it sounds like fun.” She followed the agreement with another big bite.
Never had something as ordinary as eating lunch with another person had the power to steal his breath, but Mark thought he could quite happily die of oxygen deprivation. Finally, when she wiped her mouth with a napkin and removed the mustard did he remember to breathe again. How in the world would he survive a fishing trip when it would be just the two of them?
