Love Inspired November 2013 #2 (24 page)

Funny...and impressive.

She shook the memory of David running and diving for those soaring discs and told herself she would stop recalling anything about him that might be considered overly appealing. He was appealing enough without being an athlete, too. But this was a business relationship between friends. He'd given her a job and helped her find a place to stay, and he'd watched over her since she arrived in Claremont like any good friend would do. So this emotion that kept creeping in was gratitude. That was it, gratitude. And she had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

“The
Boxcar
books came in today. I got a case, forty-eight books. You really think we might have that many kids show up?”

Laura had asked him to get the books Tuesday morning, before she realized that the bookstore didn't appear to hold its own moneywise. Now she feared if she didn't have that many kids to purchase those books, she'd end up costing him more than she made. She swallowed. David had helped her too much for her to hurt his business, so she
would
make this work; she had to. “Sure we will,” she said, and did her best to sound upbeat, enthusiastic, excited even.

His smile said he bought it, and Laura breathed a sigh of relief. If David was right and the majority of the town showed up tonight for the First Friday event, she'd focus on finding kids to join that club...and selling their parents the book. David might not have had the time to figure out ways to make money for himself and his store, but Laura wasn't about to work here and not offer some sort of appreciation for the deal. And her appreciation would come in the form of more customers for her boss.

“You do realize that there's no way we could handle forty-eight kids in the children's area at once. I'd say we couldn't seat more than fifteen at the most,” he said.

Laura hadn't thought about that, but he had a point. And if she sold all of those books, she'd need to make sure she had room for all of the kids. “What if we had the book club each day after school instead of only on Mondays?” She remembered what Zeb said about potentially starting a teen book club, too. “And if we did additional book clubs for teens or adults, we could put those later in the day.”

“You're counting on this taking off, aren't you?” he asked.

“I am,” she admitted. “It'd be a good thing for the store, wouldn't it?”

“Definitely a good thing.” He picked up the list of kids who had already signed up for the book club. “Nine so far.” His mouth slid to the side as he silently read the names. “I know all of these kids, and some of them aren't even close in age. Nathan and Autumn are both nine, maybe ten. And Kaden, Abi and Andy are all younger, six or seven, I'd say. Do you think we should divide them up by age?”

“That's a good idea,” Laura said. “I'll call the ones on the list, get the specific ages and let them know we'll set up the book club so that each day of the week corresponds with a different age bracket. I think that'd be more enjoyable for the kids because that'd put them with their friends from school and most likely with those on the same reading level.”

“Except for kids like Kaden, who need a challenge,” David said, obviously remembering Mandy's comment.

Laura laughed. She'd been around Mandy and her family a good bit this week because they were often in the gallery when she went to her apartment at night. Kaden was an adorable little boy, but he was one of the most inquisitive children she'd ever met. Laura now understood what his teacher meant by saying he needed a challenge. “I think Kaden could probably go with an older group of kids, as far as the reading level, but since they will be reading the books on their own and mainly talking about what they've read here, I think he'll enjoy being with his own age, don't you?”

“Yeah, I do,” David agreed. He looked at Laura, and his attention moved to her cheek, where that wayward lock of hair curled against her skin. Laura knew what he was about to do, so she could have quickly tucked the strands out of the way herself, but for some strange reason, she didn't. Instead she held her breath as David tenderly slid his finger against her skin and eased the lock in place. “You're going to be an excellent teacher.”

A tingle of
something
echoed from the point where his finger touched her skin, ricocheting through her senses and then settling in her chest. Laura didn't know if the effect was from his compassionate touch or his earnest words. Or both.

Ready to get control of her emotions, she walked back to the children's area and said, “Zeb came by while you were gone. Come see what he did for us.” She picked up the sketch pad from the table and turned it so David could see the drawing. “I'm going to make a boxcar to decorate the children's reading nook. If we use this design, they could climb inside and pretend they're on the actual boxcar while we talk about the story. We can use some of the beanbags and pillows already in the reading nook.”

Even before she looked to verify the fact, she knew that David had moved closer to look at the drawing. She could sense the warmth of his body next to hers, and she turned to see that his face—as she suspected—was mere inches from her own. A hint of cologne teased the air, and she fought the urge to inhale...or move closer.

“It sounds like a great idea,” he said. “Um, did Zeb mention how much he thought the materials would run?”

He couldn't disguise the worry in his tone, and it reinforced Laura's quest to make, rather than lose, money for his store. It also pulled her out of the uncomfortable moment of attraction that she was pretty sure only occurred on her side of this fence.

“He said since Diane Marsh's grandson is one of the kids participating in the book club, she'd probably donate the craft board and other materials we might need. And he said he thought you could make the wooden stands to hold the boxcar from crates that are usually kept behind the store.”

The worry lines that'd shown on David's forehead as he'd looked at the drawing disappeared as his face slid into a grin. “Leave it to Zeb to get it all worked out. Zeb and you, I mean. This
is
a great idea, and if Diane will donate the materials, that'd make it even better.”

“I'll go see her right now,” Laura said. “I'd like to have it ready for First Friday.”

David looked at the circular clock above the entrance showing straight-up noon. “You realize that's only six hours from now, right?”

“Then I'd better get busy.” Laughing, she grabbed her purse and turned to leave, but then stopped when her cell started ringing the song “Daddy's Hands.” “Hang on, that's my dad.” Her father taught middle school history, and even though he was probably on his lunch break, she knew he never made personal calls from the school. She answered. “Daddy? Anything wrong?”

He exhaled thickly over the line. “Laura, I hate to bother you, and I sure don't want to worry you, but I need to ask...have you heard from your mother today?”

Laura had called her parents each night this week to let them know how things were going at the bookstore, how she was settling in, and then yesterday how the appointment with the new doctor had gone. But she hadn't heard from her mother since she hung up the phone with them last night. “I haven't. Did she leave again?”

“I don't know what's going on, hon, but it's been so much worse this year, since this summer. She isn't happy, and I honestly don't know what to do anymore. She wanted to go on that cruise in August, before I had to start back at the school, and I took her, but that still didn't help. And she wanted to go on regular dates, and we've been doing that, or trying to—she's been working more hours at the mall, you know.” He sounded miserable, the way he always sounded whenever her mother did another round of leaving to “find herself.”

“She isn't answering her cell?”

“Goes straight to voice mail. She must have it turned off.”

“Was she supposed to work today?” Laura asked.

“She was, but Nan, the store manager, called me to see where she was this morning when she didn't show up at the store. I was afraid she'd had an accident or something, since she's never late for work, and I started trying to call her cell. And like I said, it went straight to voice mail. But I just called Nan back to see if she ever heard from her, and she said that your mother called in and said she was taking a personal day.” He paused. “She'd assumed your mother would've called and told me.”

“Of course she did,” Laura said. Because that's what a normal wife would do. But something
was
different this time, because regardless of how many times Marjorie Holland had left without warning, she always planned her disappearances on her days off. She could leave Laura's father and Laura without any explanation whatsoever, but she would never miss a day of work and risk someone else taking her sales.

“I'll try calling her, but I'm sure you're right,” Laura said. “If she doesn't want to talk to us, she won't.”

“I know, dear. But, well, if you hear from her, will you call me, text me, whatever is more convenient? I just want to know that she's okay.”

“I will, Daddy.” She disconnected then immediately dialed her mother. Sure enough, it went straight to voice mail.

“She left again?” David asked.

Laura dropped the cell in her purse. “I don't know how he does it, goes through this over and over without any rhyme or reason to why she acts the way she does.” For years, especially when she was younger, Laura would cry whenever her mother mysteriously disappeared. But those tears were done. Crying never helped, and Laura wasn't going to let her mother upset her now. It wasn't good for the babies if Laura was stressed, so she would
not
get stressed.

“You want to talk about it?” David asked, the concern in his voice evident.

She'd talked to David about her mother's peculiar behavior a few times when they were at UT, but she didn't want to spend their time today analyzing the mystery that was Marjorie Holland. “Nope. I want to go buy what we need to build a boxcar. Or rather, have it all donated to the cause.”

He spotted a book out of order on a shelf, withdrew it and then began running his finger along the spines to find the correct spot. “Okay,” he said, “but get some lunch while you're out. I don't want you forgetting to eat because you're trying to finish that boxcar.”

“Don't worry.” She pointed to her stomach. “They don't let me forget.”

“That's good.” He tapped a book as he apparently located where the misfiled one belonged, and then slid it into place. Then he leaned against the shelves and smiled. “And take your time. It shouldn't take all that long to make that prop, and I don't want you rushing to eat.”

Laura liked his smile. “I won't rush,” she promised.

Opening the door, she stepped outside, inhaled the crisp November air, took two steps down the sidewalk...and nearly ran smack-dab into her mom.

In a royal-blue pantsuit, gold jewelry and heels, Marjorie Holland looked as beautiful as ever. A peach Coach bag was draped over one shoulder. With her sleek blond hair and flawless complexion, she could easily pass for an older sister instead of Laura's mother. Then again, she was only seventeen years older and on top of that looked quite young for forty.

Her smile faltered a bit; she obviously was still preparing what she'd say when she found her daughter.

Laura waited and braced for the explanation.

She got none. Instead, Marjorie pulled out the beauty pageant smile, grabbed her in a hug and said, “Surprise!”

Chapter Five

M
arjorie released Laura from the too-tight hug, leaned back and peered at her daughter. “Honey, pregnancy agrees with you. I believe you look even prettier.”

“Thanks, Mom. But why didn't you tell me you were coming? Is everything okay?”

“Why, of course. I know you said that you were doing fine, but I just wanted to see for myself.” She fingered the sleeve of Laura's dark green top. “Don't you love that blouse? I just knew it'd look adorable on you when I found it at the store. I got a great deal, you know.”

“Thanks.” Laura's mother had worked at Macy's, aka
the store
, for twenty years. She'd been the top salesperson in women's fashion for almost that long and lived for “great deals.” The problem was, even with her employee discount, her addiction to sales typically ate up her paycheck. And Laura's father rarely said anything because she was always on the verge of leaving anyway without him giving her a reason to go. He'd often say that he was a timid personality and that Marjorie's fiery one was his perfect complement. Laura wasn't so sure.

“I brought you some more maternity clothes, also very stylish, for the last couple of months. You're going to
love
them,” her mother said excitedly.

Laura already had so many clothes from Marjorie's previous purchases that she wasn't certain she'd be able to wear them all before the pregnancy was over. “Mom, I really have plenty already.”

“Nonsense. You can never have too many clothes, or shoes.” She held up her right leg for Laura to see her high-heeled boots. “How do you like these? The hue is called winter-peach. It's the latest complimentary color for the season. Fashion week paired it with everything. Aren't they amazing?”

“They're nice,” Laura said, then shivered. She hadn't grabbed her cardigan because she'd planned to simply walk across the square to Scraps and Crafts. Little did she know she'd run into her mom and begin a lengthy chat session before she'd even crossed the sidewalk.

“Oh, my, why aren't you wearing that cute gold cardigan I bought you? You don't need to get chilled,” her mother said.

“I have it in the store, but it's really not that cold, as long as you don't stay outside overly long.” Laura pointed to the craft store. “I was going to Scraps and Crafts to get some things for a project I want to do today and also get some lunch.”

“Well, why don't we do lunch first and then I'll help you get the craft items you need?”

“That sounds great.” Despite her mother's quirks, Laura did enjoy spending time with her when she was in one of her happy moods, and she appeared to be in one today, in spite of—or maybe because of—the fact that she'd left Nashville without any word to her husband.

“Wonderful. I can drive. Where would you like to go? What's near here?” She dug around in her purse then withdrew her keys.

Laura smiled. “This—” she waved her hand toward the shops that composed the town square “—
is
what's around here.”

Marjorie's blue eyes widened, and she plunked her keys back in her bag. “Well, okay, then.” She scanned the storefronts. “So...where do we eat?”

“Come on, I'll show you.” Laura led the way to Nelson's Variety Store, her mother's boots clicking the sidewalk with every step.

Marjorie stopped when they reached the tiny black-and-white tiles that formed the entrance to the five-and-dime. “Here?”

Laura opened the door. “Come on, it's really good.”

Her mother visibly swallowed, her smile slipping again, but then she quickly recovered and headed in as though she owned the place.

“Well, hello, Miss Laura,” Marvin Tolleson said as they entered. “Who's your friend?” He guided them to a red vinyl booth near the old-fashioned soda fountain.

“Mr. Marvin, this is my mother, Marjorie Holland. Mom, this is Marvin Tolleson. He and his wife, Mae, own the variety store, and they serve the best cheeseburger and sweet potato fries you'll ever taste.” Laura and David had shared lunch here twice this week already, and she'd loved every bite.

“Cheeseburgers,” Marjorie said, again fighting to hold her smile in place. “Why that sounds...delicious.”

Laura couldn't remember ever seeing her mother eat a cheeseburger. In fact, the majority of the time she dined on a salad with grilled chicken and fat-free dressing. “They have salads, too,” she said. “But the burgers are the best.”

“We do have salads,” Marvin agreed. “But they don't stick to your ribs like a good ol' burger. All Angus beef, too.”

“You don't say.” Marjorie lifted the laminated single page of the menu and flipped it, looking for the rest of the available items. There weren't any, so she slowly turned the page back over.

“Why don't I get your drinks while you're deciding,” Marvin offered, unfazed by her mother's lack of enthusiasm.

“Water with lemon please,” she said.

“Okay, and you want your extra large lemonade, Miss Laura?”

“You know I do.” She'd grown very fond of Mr. Marvin, and of all the Claremont residents she'd met so far. They weren't pretentious, nothing showy or ostentatious. In fact, she'd say they were as down-to-earth as anyone she'd ever known. Her family wasn't rich, but you'd never know that by the way her mother dressed and carried herself. Her father, on the other hand, was proud of his teaching job and never put on a show. He was most comfortable in a pullover and jeans or khakis, and he didn't try to talk or act like he was something he wasn't.

“I'm going to the restroom, dear. If he comes back for the order, just get me a salad with the fat-free dressing, okay?”

Laura had hoped her mother
might
forego her routine for their day together, but she should've known better. “I will.”

Marjorie clicked across the floor to the bathrooms with every head in the restaurant watching her move, and Laura waited for her to disappear before pulling her cell phone from her purse. She quickly sent a text to her father.

She's here. She's fine. I'll let you know when she starts back home. And I'll let you know if I figure out what's going on.

Marvin returned with the drinks and Laura ordered their food. Then her phone buzzed with a text from her father. Undoubtedly he was teaching a class, but he must have had his cell on hand in case he heard anything from his runaway wife.

I'm so glad she's okay. Please keep me posted. Love you.

Laura sent a quick text—
I love you, too, Daddy
—and dropped the phone back in her purse at the exact moment her mother exited the restroom. She felt so sorry for her dad, never being able to figure out the woman he loved so much. And part of her felt sorry for her mother, too, attempting to appear happy and content when obviously she was anything but.

Marjorie gracefully slid into the booth. She didn't do anything that looked unrehearsed, and even the way she sat appeared camera-ready. She'd won Miss Teen for Davidson County when she was merely sixteen, an accomplishment heralded in countless photos around their home. In Laura's opinion, her mother still acted as though she were being scored for poise on a daily basis. “Did you order?” she asked, unfolding the paper napkin and placing it on her lap.

“I did.”

They sat for a moment in an awkward silence, Laura not knowing what to say and her mother smiling politely at each person who passed the booth but not speaking to anyone. She had a regal air about her, and she definitely stood out amid the others gathering for lunch in the five-and-dime. Most folks sitting in booths or at the soda fountain had on long-sleeved T-shirts or sweaters with a pair of jeans and sneakers. A few wore khakis, and one lady had on a plaid dress, but hardly any jobs on the square required a strict dress code. At Macy's, Marjorie dressed like she was ready for a photo shoot each day and was the most requested salesperson for help with style. However, even today, when she knew she wasn't going to work, she dressed the same way. She didn't have any dress-down clothes and probably wouldn't wear them even if she did.

The silence continued, until her mother obviously couldn't take it anymore. “I had to get away,” she whispered. Then, as if in afterthought, she added, “And I did want to see how you were doing.”

“Why did you have to get away?” Laura asked quietly. The booths and tables were all very close together so that customers could easily converse with those around them. When she and David had eaten here before, they'd almost always chatted with people at the other tables nearby. But there'd be no way anyone else could jump in on this conversation. Laura didn't even know what was going on with her mom; how would anyone else?

As if she also suspected someone was listening, Marjorie lowered her voice again. “I just did, you know. It's...hard to explain.”

Obviously. She'd been doing it as long as Laura could remember, and no one had received an explanation yet.

Marjorie lifted her fork, inspected it as though looking for smudges, then returned it to the table. “So...how
are
you doing?”

“I'm fine,” Laura said, choosing not to dwell on the subject her mother refused to talk about; it wouldn't help anyway. “I love it here, and I think the job at the bookstore is going to be perfect until I'm able to get hired in the school system.”

A man at the booth behind her mother turned and leaned around the edge. “Sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing, and I thought you'd like to know that Mrs. Jackson, the kindergarten teacher, is retiring at the end of this year. You might want to go ahead and put your resumé in at the elementary school. Or if you're looking for something at the middle school, Mr. Nance, the eighth grade teacher, is leaving after this semester, so they'll need someone for his spot in January.”

Laura felt her heartbeat increase at her excitement. There was no way she could take a teaching job in January, since she'd have just had the babies, but a kindergarten position starting next school year? That'd be perfect! “Thanks for letting me know....” She knew she'd seen him before but couldn't remember the name.

“Aidan,” he said. “Aidan Lee. And you're working with David at the bookstore, aren't you? I came by earlier this week to bring him the information for my sister-in-law's book signing next Saturday.”

“Yes, I am,” she said. “And I remember meeting you now. Aidan, this is my mother, Marjorie Holland.”

He extended a hand. “Really? You're her mom. I'd have guessed sister.”

Laura watched her mother beam.

“Aw, thank you,” she said, her hand fluttering in front of her face the way it always did when she faked embarrassment. Laura knew she loved this, but Laura didn't mind; her mother was beautiful, and it was nice to see her look sincerely happy, even if it took a bout of flattery to make it happen.

“Well, I'll let y'all get back to your visit, and I'll try not to eavesdrop—” he grinned “—too much.”

Laura and her mother laughed.

“Is everyone here that friendly?” Marjorie attempted to whisper, but Laura thought Aidan probably heard. Even so, he remained facing the other direction.

“They are. Just wait until you meet the people I'm renting my apartment from. They've been so nice.”

“Maybe when we get done with lunch you can show it to me. I saw the Carter Photography building,” Marjorie said. “That's the one you said you're staying at, right?”

“Yes, the apartment is above her gallery. I was thrilled that Mandy and Daniel offered it for rent. And they're only charging me two hundred a month.”

“Seriously? How can they afford to rent it for so cheap?”

“I'm pretty sure they aren't doing it for extra money, but they knew I wouldn't accept it for free.”

“Amazing,” her mother said as Marvin returned with a huge salad topped with bacon, boiled eggs and grilled chicken and placed the bowl in front of her. Then he gave Laura her plate, covered completely with a big juicy cheeseburger and a small mountain of sweet potato fries.

“That's...” Marjorie eased the bowl away a little, as though she couldn't take it all in while it was so close. “That's the biggest salad I've ever seen.”

“Biggest one we make,” Marvin said with a grin. Then he looked a little confused. “That is the one you ordered, isn't it, Miss Laura?”

Laura laughed. “Yes, it is.”

“So y'all have everything you need?” he asked.

“We do,” she said and waited for her mother's complaint. Marjorie didn't disappoint.

“Did you really think I could eat all of this?” she asked.

“I knew you'd never order the monster salad, but I also knew it wouldn't hurt you to splurge every now and then.” To her relief, her mother's face split into a smile.

“I am hungry,” she admitted.

Laura suspected her mother was often hungry, but she wouldn't say that now. Instead, she'd enjoy seeing her mother eat enough to fill her up for a change.

They chatted throughout the meal, with Laura carefully staying away from the subject of why Marjorie had really left Nashville this time, and when they were done, Laura was pleasantly surprised to see her mother had eaten every bite of her salad
and
a few of Laura's sweet potato fries.

“Oh, my, I'm absolutely stuffed,” she said.

Laura nodded in agreement. “Same here, but it's a good stuffed, and I'm pretty sure the twins are content. They aren't moving.”

“You were that way,” Marjorie said, “always quiet and still after I ate. And then, of course, you'd try to dance your way through the night.”

Laura dabbed her napkin at her mouth and then tossed it on her empty plate. “They wake me up every now and then, too.”

Marjorie picked up the check, glanced at the amount and then placed the cash on the table. “I've got this.”