Love In a Small Town (4 page)

The conversation in the restaurant had bothered her. She was fed up with the constant static she got because she seldom dated. Casual hooking-up for an evening of meaningless sex didn't appeal to her. It was her choice—deciding to live her life without male companionship. Why did it have to be everybody's business? She'd dated a few times, but memories of her disastrous, violent experience when a teenager, always ruined the evening.

In the ten years since her mother died, and she'd started her business, she'd been too busy learning retailing and the art of creating a perfume, without a background in organic chemistry, which made it doubly hard. Then she'd moved on to the science of plants and Aromatherapy, an even more complex subject. She studied hard and had no time for relationships.

Besides, there wasn't much choice in a small town. The kids who didn't marry after high school went to college or moved away to better job opportunities. Newcomers were mostly couples starting a business or retiring. She sighed, resigned. Single men had no reason to move here, since there was no industry and few jobs.

There weren't any dependable men, or, at least ones you could be sure would hang in there for the long haul. They got tired. They got bored. They left. Her father did, causing her to wonder what was so terrible about his daughter that he didn't want to hang around anymore.

At times she wondered if she were cheating herself. There were too many empty weekends, too many lonely nights, and especially, a life without children. Meeting Sarah had reminded her how much fun it could be to have a daughter. Such a delightful child; though so troubled. Lynn wanted to mother her, but it wasn't her place.

Going out with someone as handsome as D.G. Martin would be fun, but nothing would come of it. She wouldn't take that chance. Generally, men made no impression on her. When they came on to her she closed up, making it clear she wasn't interested. Maybe she was frigid. She couldn't lust like Janine. At least, that's what she thought, until tonight. Her reaction to D.G. went way beyond mere interest. The sudden jolt she felt the first time their eyes had met, shook her to her toes.

No. She wouldn't think about it. She was perfectly content with her life. D.G. was lethally attractive, and therefore to be avoided at all costs—the kind of man who could make you want to be in his arms.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

There were times when she allowed a bit of yearning. What would it be like to be held close and not be afraid? Just once, she'd like to know. An image rose of D.G. taking her in his arms, pulling her against his hard body, his warm, beautiful eyes searching her face as he prepared to kiss her. Her heart told her she wouldn't need to fear him.

Her mind drifted.
He probably smelled good.
It was only a guess. She rarely got close enough to smell men.

His hands were soft, she knew, because they weren't callused. They'd feel like silk wandering over her naked body.

Alarm shook her as awareness grew. Something was happening 'down there.' Sexual arousal? She hadn't felt that for a long time, except, maybe, when she read a sexy scene in a romance novel. Her panties were wet. Strange vibrations stirring in her gut made unfamiliar muscles contract. She refused to acknowledge the thrill she felt—shaking her head in denial.

You don't do that,
her inner voice warned. Getting giddy over a man was kid stuff, and she was way beyond that. Remember that he'll be gone when summer is over, then what?

"Meow?"

The imperious summons sounded from the porch. Charlotte, her calico cat, sat regally on the railing, reminding her that dinner was about two hours late.

"Sorry, Charlotte. I'll be right there." She got out of the car and hurried toward the house, breathing in the satisfying odor of her very own freshly cut grass.

~ * ~

It was nearly midnight by the time David pulled into the driveway at home, went into the house and found Sarah still reading.

"Hey, Dad. How'd it go?"

"I'm a wealthy man, kiddo. Tips were great tonight. My busboy will have the cash to take his girl on a hot date tomorrow night."

"Those guys don't have a clue to your 'double life,' do they?"

"The wait staff doesn't. Management does, of course. We see each other at Rotary Club Breakfasts." He'd had no problem fitting in with the local businessmen. Some of them had been his clients before the move and they shared an interest in making money.

Sarah said, "My French teacher, back at the academy, used to say, 'Be sure your sins will find you out.' You'll be outed."

"Maybe sooner than later. I met a woman there tonight who got my attention." At Sarah's look of interest, he hastened to add, "I don't know her name, but I think she might be local. People seemed to know her. Anyhow, judging from the part of her conversation I overheard, I don't think she's interested in
local
men." Before she could say anything, he added, "Well, I'm for bed. See you in the morning."

He left her looking at him with speculation.

Monday afternoon, Lynn worked at Scentual Encounters, creating a new fragrance while unsettling memories of dinner at the Kensington, with her since Friday, filled her mind. Images of D.G. Martin bobbed to the surface of her mind like a beach ball in a pool. There was no keeping them submerged to a safe depth. Worse, every time she thought of him, she had to resist the thrill she felt, by reminding herself that she had insulted him and he ignored her for the rest of the evening. Period. End of episode.

Determined to purge him from her mind, she arrived at the shop that morning, eager to start a new project as a distraction. This time of the year she could count on an hour or two to perfect a formula. She worked with essential oils distilled directly from plant material. Natural oils' ability to enter the bloodstream through contact, effecting physical and emotional changes in the human body fascinated her. She found it more exciting than working with synthetics, referred to simply as perfume oils in the trade. The connection between plants and humans brought her into the study of Aromatherapy, and the blending of oils for massage.

She laid out a dozen narrow paper strips, about three inches long, on the counter in front of her. Both ends of each strip were bent so they stood straight up when the strip lay flat. Also on the counter were about a dozen small brown bottles, holding samples of fragrant oils.

"Hi, Lynn. What's all that?"

Startled, she looked up to see Sarah coming into the shop. "Oh, hi. I'm working on a new fragrance. It needs something and I can't quite figure out what."

"You mean, like, you're making a perfume?"

"Yeah, but this will be a cologne. Not too many people buy perfume these days. Too expensive."

"You know how to do this? I mean, make cologne and perfume?"

"It's a hobby of mine as well as a profession. If it turns out, I'll bottle it and sell it in the store."

"I didn't know a person could, like, make their own perfume. I thought it happened in a factory somewhere."

"There's no mystery about it. It's all made the same, if it's Est
ée
Lauder's or mine. It's like cooking. Instead of tastes, though, you think odor. You decide on the basics first by putting it together in your head; like should it be floral or woody or citrus? When the idea is there, you begin with these scent strips." She gestured at the narrow pieces of paper with the ends turned up.

"I moisten the end of a strip with one of the oils, and label it. That way I can smell several, in any combination, to get an idea of the finished product. When you have a possibility, you mix a small amount. If it still smells good, you add pure alcohol in a proportion of four to one part mix, if you want perfume. It's about sixteen to one if you want cologne."

"That's it?"

She laughed. "I wish. You have to let the fragrance age in the alcohol, sort of like wine, to see what happens. These are mostly natural oils. When the molecules get together they interact and you might be surprised and end up with an odor like cabbage soup."

The confusion on Sarah's face made Lynn decide to take it a little further, enjoying the pleasure of sharing something she loved.

"Look at these scent strips. Each one has an oil sample I think I might use. See? I've marked them. We have rosemary, lemon, rose, cedar, jasmine, and cinnamon.

"Pick up two of them and hold them together, close to your nose. You can tell if it works without actually mixing it."

Sarah carefully picked up a rose and a jasmine strip, and sniffed cautiously.

Lynn watched her, amused. Sarah was so intent. It would be fun to teach her about perfume. Having an interest might distract her from some of the unhappiness in her life.

"Yuck, that is really sweet."

"The jasmine is probably a bit too much. Try the lemon with the rose."

"That's better, but I still don't like it."

"Well, you get the general idea. In a couple of hours you might work your way through all the bottles I have here and find a combination."

"It must take a long time to do this."

"It helps if you've memorized a couple of hundred scents. It's called, 'having a nose.' Professional 'noses' can identify about two thousand different odors."

"Could I learn to do this?"

"Sure. Like any other creative art form, it takes practice, but I'd enjoy teaching you. Of course, if you wanted a career working for a lab somewhere, then you'd need a college degree and a lot of organic chemistry courses to get hired."

Sarah's habitual glum expression softened a bit. "Lynn, could I come back again and maybe watch you do this? Maybe tomorrow?"

"You're welcome anytime, Sarah." Lynn paused, thinking. "Well, the rest of this week won't work for me. I'm closing early tomorrow because I'm working at the Soup and Bread Supper Fundraiser for the high school athletic programs."

"Oh, yeah. I heard about it at school."

"Will I see you there?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so. I don't really know anybody."

Lynn sorrowed over the lost look on the young girl's face. She'd definitely make time to teach her about perfume. "Come next week and we'll start on your fragrance."

As Sarah turned to leave, the phone rang and Lynn, noting who called, answered it with an impatient grimace, "Hello, Janine."
Damn it.
She didn't want to talk about Friday night, and she was certain that's what this was about. Sure enough.

"Lindsay, I'm not going to mince words. How interested are you in D.G.?"

"Look, Janine, I'd rather not discuss it. I assure you I have no interest in dating an itinerant waiter. He's all yours."

She slammed the receiver into its cradle, looked up, and saw Sarah standing there.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Sarah. Just a couple of grown women acting like children."

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything like that."

Sarah showed such distress, Lynn said, to reassure her, "It wasn't anything important. I went to dinner at the Kensington last Friday with some friends, mainly because they wanted to meet a new waiter, rumored to be really good looking. My friends wanted to check him out."

"You did, too?"

"No, absolutely not. You heard me tell Janine, I'm not interested in summer flings with these guys who blow in here for a couple of months and then leave.

"I'm ashamed to say grown women can act silly over a good-looking guy the same as girls your age." She felt her face flush while Sarah watched her with real interest. "Anyhow, Janine liked this guy, and I didn't want to interfere."

"Did you like him, too?"

Why was she so fascinated? Well, sure. She was the age to be interested in boys. Without a mother, she didn't have a woman to talk to.

"He's handsome, I'll admit. No, he's way beyond handsome, and I might have experienced a little flutter of attraction, but Janine went overboard flirting with him."

"Oh. Well, did you think he was dope?"

Lynn looked at her, considering how much to reveal. "Definitely dope," she said, using the current teen term for 'awesome,' "but not for me. We get these guys in town every summer. They work until the season is over, and then move on. They're not worth the time."

"How do you know he's like that? He could be here to stay."

"Sarah, why all the questions? I'm not looking for a boyfriend. Believe me, that's the last thing I want."

"Oh." Her voice echoed her disappointment. "Well, thanks for talking to me. I have to get home now. My dad worries if I'm late." She picked up her backpack and went out the door while Lynn watched her, wondering.

~ * ~

Once more, the feeling of being watched overtook Sarah when she approached her house. The deep shadows created by the trees and bushes made her uneasy. "Stupid, dumb town," she muttered, kicking angrily at a piece of broken sidewalk, avoiding the weeds growing through the cracks of the old limestone paving. Everything here was at least a hundred years old and looked every bit of it, as though being left over from the nineteenth century was a big deal.