Find Me (2 page)

“The thing is, most times finding the other person is hard. People don’t know where to search. They check under flashy exteriors, smug attitudes, and never see the person’s soul.”

“Come on,” Coop growled. “You’re not gonna trust what he’s dishing out, are you? How can manufacturers produce two candies, send them out worldwide, and expect the two people who receive them to find each other?”

Odd, he didn’t get uptight about any of Rill’s other stories. Today, his forehead pulled down, and his lips flattened.

“It’s a myth,” she said.

“Yeah, which you believe.” He spoke with a combination of concern and disgust.

“I think it’s lovely. I bet that’s how I’ll find my soul mate.”

Her comment got another, “Phft,” from Coop.

“I bet it will, little lady.” Rill put the tray back under the counter.

“Let’s go.” Coop grabbed her hand. “Thanks, Rill.”

“Anytime,” he chuckled. “One more thing.”

She pulled on Coop’s hand. He wouldn’t stop, so she yanked it. “Yeah?”

“The two people can only meet in Heather Ridge.”

“You’re kidding me.” Coop fumed, snatched her hand, and tugged her out of the store.

“What’s your problem?” Again, she jerked her hand away from his and stopped. “I think the story is great. It’s romantic. A dream.”

“You haven’t checked out its veracity.”

Leave it to brain boy to think science rules everything
. “Sometimes there is no explanation.”

“I hear pigs fly. Do you think I should trust hearsay?”

Now, he was being mean. “Not nice.”

He smiled lopsidedly. “You’re right.” He pulled her into his arms, and she rested her head on his chest. Unlike with anyone else, she discarded the dispute and absorbed his comfort.

“Hey, Lyse!” Wally shouted from across the road. “Want some flowers for Friday? Come on, I’ll let you pick them out.”

No one ever bought her flowers. “Um…”

Coop gave her a tight squeeze and released her. “Have a great time,” he said and walked in the opposite direction of the florist. “See you around.”

Chapter One

Some believe a superstition is anything based on myth, magic, or irrational thoughts. Others think it gives a person hope.

~Rill Babcock

Present day…

Lyse clutched her chest. She drew her fingers inward and outward over her skin to alleviate the pain from thinking about the last time she and Cooper Schmidt hung out. For the last several years, she’d repeated the saga to her best friend Natalie Monroe, Nate, as she liked to be called, around Valentine’s Day. This year, she thought she would get a break from the numbing ache when she explained the story over the phone. Not so. Even though she didn’t see the empathy crossing Nate’s face, emotions still ripped through her.

“Things changed,” Lyse said. “I can’t explain why. We didn’t see each other much afterwards then we graduated and I moved.”

“Well, get your pretty butt to the high school reunion so you can see him,” Nate ordered.

She tapped the ten year class reunion invitation she received two months ago against the surface of her desk. A habit she’d done every day for the last week as she weighed the pros and cons of going, the negative far outweighed the positive.

Seeing Coop after he tossed their friendship aside as if she was a chew bone he had grown tired of playing with didn’t make her eager, nor did looking into her classmates’ eyes after her terrible display at graduation. “Ugh! I don’t want to go.” She dropped the envelope on her desk and stared at her closed office door. “I am a laughing stock.”

At graduation, she made a cardinal sin. She’d walked up the steps to the stage to receive her diploma, tripped, and laughed so hard she peed, soaking her dress and gown. Once she started, she couldn’t stop.

She dropped her elbow to the desk with a bang and finger-combed her long brown hair. A knot snagged her finger midway. She should have put it up. With rain threatening, it’d be unruly for the rest of the day. “So embarrassing,” she said, focusing back on the phone conversation. “Classmates had all sorts of names for me that I’m sure they’ll bring up.”

“Like crybaby? Or how ’bout Pissy Pants?” Natalie continued, laughing. “Or PIP? Personally, I like PIP.”

Pees in pants.
Lyse ground out a disgusting noise. “You’re not helping!”

“Oh, is that what I’m supposed to do?” The ding of a car door opening drowned out Natalie’s giggle.

“Where are you?” Even as she asked the question, the feeling she wouldn’t like the answer struck. She pressed the phone closer to her ear as if that would help her see where her friend headed.

A dog barked, a very deep bark. Only one dog in this area of Nashville, Tennessee, possessed an unbelievable deep tenor. Scotty, her Scottish terrier. “Natalie, what are you doing at my house?”

“Getting the dress I’m borrowing.”

A creak erupted, and she knew Nate opened her gate.

“Scoot, Scotty, move,” Nate said.

The familiar swoosh of her front door opening filled her ears and then it thudded closed.

“Honestly, Lyse, someone is gonna steal Scotty.”

The concern touched her, but she wasn’t worried.

“You need a locked gate.”

The white board fence around her yard stood three foot high. “If someone wants him, they’ll climb the fence. Besides, he knows danger. He’ll run in through the doggie door.”

“I’m in your house,” Natalie whispered in a horror-flick tone.

“I want my key back,” Lyse demanded, half teasing.

“No you don’t. If you take mine, I take yours. We both know you don’t want to lose your treasure escape.”

No, she didn’t. One block lay between Natalie’s apartment and Haynes Travel Agency, the perfect escape for a nap when she pulled a long shift. “You know me too well.”

“I do. That’s why I think you should go to your reunion, see your buddy. I keep harping on it, but I hate that you haven’t seen this guy who meant so much. He was your best friend.”

“You’re my bestie now.”

“I am, but he should still be in the picture.”

A scraping sound came across the line. She sighed. Natalie opened her closet. Her friend alone with her clothes meant trouble. Her things would disappear. “No underwear stealing. It grossed me out the last time.”

“You have some great stuff,” Nate said. “I need to return your black lace thong.”

Her favorite. She purchased the sexy garment with the expectations of wearing it on a special date. Who was she kidding? Over the last year, she went out on very few dates. Soon, her insides would turn to raisins. “No. You. Don’t.”

Natalie chuckled. “Actually, I bought you a new pair. They’re in a bag on your bed waiting for Mister Right.”

“Is your conscience nagging at you?” Several times, her undies went missing after one of Natalie’s borrowing expeditions. She never got replacements.

“Little bit. Nice talking to ya. I’ve got to go check out my personal shoppers’ wardrobe.” The phone went dead.

“Ugh!” She set the cell in its holder. “She’s gonna drive me to drink.”

“If I haven’t, I doubt anyone will,” Dad said, peeking in around the door. Once again, he entered without knocking.

She took in his weak, watery eyes and her heart pinched. For several months, his energy level didn’t match a person in their seventies. “Hi, Dad. How’d the doctor’s visit go?”

He remained quiet for so long she reclined in her chair. Either he received a bad report or he wanted to talk again about selling Mom’s quilt shop, the vacant space adjacent to her father’s business, Haynes Travel Agency. The place she worked almost twenty-four-seven.

“Redfern, LLC wants to rent instead of buy.”

No…no…no, she didn’t want any other business in Mom’s shop. He knew this, yet he didn’t have to ask her opinion. As the sole owner of Haynes Travel Agency and Mom’s shop, Quilting Time, he made the decisions. Still, he kept her in the loop. “Dad—”

He showed her his palm. She hated when he did that. It was like slapping a hand over her mouth.

“It can’t stay empty.”

“It’s bad luck for someone to put a business in a dead person’s building when family members are capable of running it,” she said, knowing her reasoning rang ridiculous.

“Sweetie, you haven’t even tried.”

“Because you keep me busy here, at the travel agency,” she snapped. Immediately, guilt crept in. No matter what, Dad didn’t deserve grief. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I know how much the place means to you, and I know you’re thoughts on superstitions.”

“The truth is…” He moved inside and closed the door on her aunt Claire talking to customers. “We need the money. Between the economy’s downfall, and now with the doctors wanting to run tests, I need more funds.”

While he continued to pay her full-time and her aunt and uncle part-time, she knew he cut his pay in half. “Oh God, Dad, no,” she said, yet she couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice.

“Nothing to be concerned over. Standard stuff. They need to rule out things before they can determine why I feel sluggish all the time. It may be as simple as getting B-12 shots. No biggie. Until I know the problem, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Such a private man. He didn’t tell his only child anything he thought would upset her. Still, if Mom had survived the flu that took her away from them twenty-six years ago, he would have told her. “Okay, Dad. Whatever you want.”

“Including leasing your mom’s quilt shop?”

She loved him and would do anything for him. She’d even refused a soccer scholarship and discarded her dream to one day play in the World Cup. The decision was hard, yet she did it easily because he needed her to manage Haynes Travel Agency. She had thanked her aunt and uncle for raising her and simply moved home. Her aunt and uncle retired and followed her to Tennessee.

But this, this was different. Mom’s shop meant more to her than any scholarship or possibilities of playing in the big leagues. Mom’s shop held her heart. “Sorry, I can’t.”

He moved closer and kissed the top of her head. “I know, sweetie. Promise me, you’ll think about it.”

“I promise.”

“Hey!” Nate barged in. “I think you got it!”

Geez! No one respected the closed-door policy. “You got here fast.”

“Yeah, blew past all the cops. Guess what?” Nate stopped when she spotted Dad. “Hi, Mr. Haynes.”

“Natalie, how are you?” He studied her as if he viewed an alien or as a father would when eyeing his teenage daughter who changed her appearance too often.

Nate sparkled. Today, she painted her eyelids in a bluish-purple. Lavender highlights streaked her ebony straight hair. The makeover worked with her olive complexion. Yesterday, orange brightened her day. “I’m peachy. Thanks. And you?”

Such formalities. “She has a hot date tonight,” Lyse said.

“Oh, I see.” He closed his mouth and nodded his understanding.

“Yes, I do, but that’s not why I’m here.” Natalie held out a brown padded package. “Open it!”

A peculiar sensation ran over her. She eyed her friend and took it. “What is it?”

“You have to open it to find out, silly. The mail lady came by, and I signed for it.”

Dad crossed his arms and squared his shoulders.

“It’s from Heather Ridge.” Nate’s voice reached a high pitch. “It’s from him, isn’t it?”

She stuck a finger in her ear. “Not so loud. Didn’t you see the customers when you walked in?”

“Oops.” Natalie closed the door on Aunt Clair glancing in from talking to someone. “It is, isn’t it?”

She read the return address.
Cooper Schmidt, Class President.
Her breath caught, caught wasn’t the right word, it stopped. For him to send her a package after all this time shocked her.

She reread the address, class president. Reunion business, not personal. Why did she think any different? Ever since Wally asked her to go with him to buy her flowers, her and Coop didn’t see each other as much.

What a bust the date with Wally had been. They ate at a four-star restaurant in a neighboring town then went to the dance in the high school’s gym. An hour later, he pulled her into the stairwell for some earn-your-keep-action as he called it. He figured since he bought her dinner she owed him payback in a form of his hands sliding up her dress. Thanks to him, she’d relished slapping her first jerk. For good measure, she’d flipped him the bird and walked home. She had needed Coop so freaking much her lips pinched taut now just thinking about it.

“Are you going to open it?”

Her friend knew a lot about her past, but the loneliness after her and Coop became estranged she doubted anyone could understand. Even she didn’t. “It’s more reunion stuff. I’m not interested.”

Nate reached for the package.

“Dang it. I’ll do it.” She ripped open the end of the package and dumped a box and piece of yellow paper onto her desk.

“What’s it say?” Nate rubbed her hands like a kid waiting for the ultimate surprise.

“Do you not get any excitement from your own life?”

“No, I don’t,” Nate said, shaking her head.

She laughed. “You’re nuts.”

“Yeah,” Nate said. “So I’ve heard, but let’s not cast stones. Read.”

The quarter-size piece of paper stuck together on the ends. “A sticky note. Hmm.” She tugged them apart and read aloud.

Fellow classmates,

To honor what put Heather Ridge on the map, I’m sending out packages of Valentine heart candies. Rill Babcock, of the legendary Rill’s Country Store, assured me this shipment contains the mythical FIND ME candies. Maybe, two single classmates will receive them.

Hope to see you there.

Cooper Schmidt, Class President

Heathercream inventor

“Delicious ice cream,” Nate said from behind her shoulder. “Wow, you could have the FIND ME candy in your box.”

The pink box with a purple ribbon around it was different from the packaging at Rill’s Country Store. “I don’t remember the boxes being so colorful.”

“Hurry, open it,” Nate said. “I want to see if you’ll find your soul mate. Lord knows, no one turns your head in this town.”

True, but she stayed too busy to think about dating, even though she had the undies to say differently.