Small Town Girl (5 page)

Coffee would have been a challenge, but Lauren was prepared. She had packed a French press and some gourmet ground coffee from Dean & DeLuca. She boiled water in an old pot and poured it into the press, then, coffee mug in hand, she wandered out into the back yard.

It really was beautiful and soothing. The morning mists were evaporating, and the sun was shining through the maple trees, illuminating the old garden and the white picket fence. Lauren wandered through the plants, forgetting herself. Her grandmother had taught her the names of all the plants when she’d been a child, and she’d been surprised at how easily they came back to her now after all these years. There were blooming daylilies, and iris that had gone by. There were white Shastas and bright fuchsia phlox. Yellow coreopsis and black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne’s Lace, and foxglove. Then there were the herbs. Mint and oregano, wild onion, and thyme. Lauren plucked a mint leaf with her thumb and forefinger, squeezed it, and held it to her nose. The fragrance was heavenly. Aromatherapy wherever you looked.

“You Miss Smith?” a voice called to her.

Lauren turned around. A tall, thin older man with equally thinning hair was leaning over the gate.

“I’m Lauren Smith,” she said, both hands around her coffee mug. “Can I help you?” People just seemed to pop out of nowhere around here!

“I’m Bob Cochran, Caleb’s dad. I help him out with the little jobs from time to time.” The man chuckled. “I’m supposed to be retired, but he asked me to install a valve here in the furnace line. No rest for the wicked, as they say.” He chuckled again at his own joke.

The disappointment hit her like a heavyweight champ’s right hook. “Oh. Oh-ah — ” Lauren stammered. “Um, come on in. I’ll show you the way.”

“I’ll get my tools.” Bob went to the white van that was parked in the driveway, opened the big back doors, and stepped inside. Lauren heard him rummaging around, then he came through the gate, carrying a work tote. She couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I — I thought Caleb was coming,” she said, trying hard to keep her voice light.

The old man didn’t look up, but continued in the direction of the front door. “Nah. It’s his day at the firehouse, and the other guys are busy on the big jobs. He doesn’t usually do the small jobs, anyway. He came out here yesterday ’cause he was in the area. I get these jobs.” There was that chuckle again. “Can I go in?”

“Oh, oh, I’m sorry. Just go in and through the kitchen to the left. Do you need help?”

Bob Cochran looked at her quizzically. “No, I don’t need help. I know the house well. Thanks anyway.” He smiled politely and disappeared into the house.

Lauren stood, stunned, in the garden. Slowly, she lifted her coffee mug to her lips and took a sip of the hot liquid, but she didn’t taste it. Had she been a fool to think he might be back? To see her? The engagement ring Charles had given her suddenly flashed in the morning light. She looked at it blankly.
What’s the matter with me?
she thought, suddenly annoyed. And did everyone in town know the inside of her house?

Still, she was feeling frantic. She had to find out more about this man who had elicited such a reaction from her. Just to put her mind at ease. She had given up trying to deny to herself that she was attracted to Caleb Cochran; as was her personality, she just wanted to face it and put the feeling to rest. Once and for all. His father would be just the man to ask.

Lauren hurried into the house and went down into the cellar. Bob was kneeling down on the damp, dirt floor, searching through his tool box for some elusive tool.

“Will this take long?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Oh, no,” Bob said, not looking up. “This is a simple job. I’ll be out of here in half an hour.”

“Good,” replied Lauren, with affected authority. “I need to go into town and find a Realtor.” She paused for a moment. “What did you mean, ‘Caleb’s day at the firehouse’?”

“He’s a volunteer there one day and two nights a week. In this town, we’ve got only two full-time firemen, so us volunteers fill in.”

“He’s a busy guy,” remarked Lauren.

Bob set to work removing the old valve. As he did so, he said, “You’re listing this place? Gonna sell it?”

“Yes,” Lauren answered somewhat belligerently. “I live in New York City. Why would I want this place?”

“It’s a nice place, that’s all. You don’t find nice houses with this much good land so easily anymore. Especially here in Vermont.”

Lauren hardly heard him. She walked in a small circle behind him, trying to figure out how to phrase her next question correctly. Finally, she said, “Um, about Caleb. Yesterday he burned his arm here. How is it?”

“Okay, I guess,” replied Bob, struggling with a wrench on the pipe.

“Is he wearing a bandage or anything?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. He didn’t even mention it.”

“Kind of a tough guy, huh?”

“No, not particularly.” Then Bob turned around, eying her somewhat suspiciously. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing,” Lauren said, chagrined. “Just trying to make sure he’s okay.” She was glad the cellar light was dim and he couldn’t see her color rising. “I — I feel kind of responsible. It was because of me that — that he was hurt.”

Lauren blinked as Bob Cochran looked at her, hard. Then he said, “Well, Caleb is fine. I know my son. He’s okay.”

Lauren gave up. “Tell him I asked about him, please?”

“I’ll do that,” said the man. Suddenly, he straightened up and faced her. He hesitated for a second before speaking. “Look, you seem awfully interested in Caleb’s aches and pains. I wasn’t born yesterday, and I’m his dad. Caleb is a good looking, really nice guy, probably this town’s most eligible bachelor, I guess you’d say, but I can see you’re married or engaged or something. There’s a diamond the size of Gibraltar on your finger, so let me tell you something. Don’t toy with him. He’s been through enough!”

Lauren was silent for two seconds. Then she flared defensively, trying to cover her own embarrassment. “I don’t care what he’s been through! I was just concerned because he hurt himself here yesterday.” She paused and then added for extra emphasis, “I don’t want a lawsuit on my hands.”

Caleb’s father turned back to his work. “Is that the kind of people you think we are? No need to be afraid of that, miss. We’re not interested in your money.” Then he chuckled and continued with the repair. Lauren wandered upstairs and back out into the garden.

It wasn’t long before Bob appeared. “Okay,” he said. “The job’s done. You should have more hot water than you can use.”

“Thanks,” said Lauren, subdued by the conversation in the cellar. “What do I owe you?”

“I have no idea. I just turn in parts and labor costs, and you get the bill.”

“Oh, well, do they have the address to send it to?”

“Just call the office.” The older man turned to go. His voice was gentler as he added, “I’ll tell Caleb you asked about his burn. And, if you want a good Realtor, just go to Town and Country Realty. They’re right in town. Ask for Joan. You have a good day, now.”

“Yes, you too,” said Lauren automatically. “Thanks again.”

Lauren watched the van drive down the road. Suddenly, she felt she must get in touch with someone in the city. She had to ground herself somehow. She pulled her iPhone out and punched the number key to summon that paragon of practicality, Kelly.

“Hey, how’s everything up in the wilderness?” said her jovial friend.

Ah
, thought Lauren,
a sane voice
. She could picture her friend, round of cheek and figure, curly black hair cascading down her back. Bright black eyes snapping with common sense and intelligence.

“Well, it’s crazy up here!” answered Lauren, exasperated. “There was something wrong with the hot water, so I had to call a plumber. Then he couldn’t fix it until this morning. And he was rude! And then, I was awake most of the night, and when I did go to sleep, I dreamed about this plumber!”

“You dreamed about the plumber? What, did he have an ax or something? Maybe you shouldn’t be alone with him.”

“No, no, Kelly, it’s nothing like that. It wasn’t a bad dream. It was a, well, an intimate dream, if you get my drift.”

“Really! Well, he couldn’t have been too rude, or else he was cute. Was he cute?”

“I don’t know! It was the plumber, for God’s sake!”

“Yes, you do. He was cute, wasn’t he?”

Lauren blew through her nose. “Well, yes, okay. He was cute, but he was annoying.”

“Hmm.” Lauren could hear the mocking tone in Kelly’s voice. “He made a favorable impression of some kind, or you wouldn’t be having erotic dreams about him.”

“I think I just miss Charles.”

“Oh, yeah, that must be it, for sure.” Kelly’s voice was dry and flat.

“Don’t be sarcastic, Kell.”

Kelly, her best friend and maid of honor, had always found it difficult to hide her instinctive dislike of Charles. Lauren knew she covered it up for the sake of their friendship, but Kelly had said once to her, when Lauren had first begun dating Charles, “There’s just something that’s a bit too smooth. Not quite trustworthy, I say.”

Lauren had scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

Kelly had never brought it up again, but Lauren knew her feelings had not changed. Kelly, after all, did not have the frame of reference from which to judge Charles. Kelly’s own boyfriend was a chubby history professor at NYU with the personality of a golden retriever. There was no way she could possibly relate to a person of Charles’s stature. Still, Lauren loved her. Their friendship had grown steadily since college, and they had come to rely on each other through all the convolutions of their daily lives.

“What are you doing today?” Kelly asked, changing the subject.

“I still have to sign papers at the Realtor’s. Why couldn’t my parents have taken care of this?”

“You’re way too hard on your parents. They live in San Francisco, for heaven’s sake. And it’s your house, after all. Your grandmother left it to you. It’s much easier for you to do it. You’re very prickly this morning.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired.”

“Yeah, too much dream sex.”

They both laughed at that. Kelly could always make her laugh. Lauren could count on her to put things in the proper perspective, and she hoped she did the same for Kelly. They talked a little longer about what was going on at the museum, then Lauren looked at her watch — a Cartier with a platinum face rimmed with diamonds. Charles had given it to her for her birthday. “Oh, Kelly, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to get into town and find a Realtor to list this place.”

“Okay, get your work done and get back here,” said her friend. “Careful, or you’ll be going native on me!”

Lauren laughed. “No chance of that! Talk to you soon.”

She hung up, shaking her head and smiling to herself.

Then she gathered up some of the papers she had received from the law firm, stuffed them into a manila envelope, and set out for the Realtor’s office in town.

Town & Country Real Estate was located in the front rooms of one of the storybook-like Victorian houses on the green. Lauren noticed the gingerbread trim on the wide porch as she went up the steps to the front door. It made her feel almost as though she had stepped back into another era. Putting these thoughts aside, she walked into the office and approached the receptionist. “I’d like to talk to Joan.”