Read The Widow of Saunders Creek Online

Authors: Tracey Bateman

The Widow of Saunders Creek (16 page)

BOOK: The Widow of Saunders Creek
7.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Because you were raised for more.” Her calm assurance irritated me. I wasn’t sure if that was because I knew she was right or because I knew she was completely wrong. All I knew was that in my home I felt Jarrod, and nothing would make me give that up. But Lola was like a dog with a squeaky toy. She wasn’t about to let it go. “You weren’t wired to do nothing and have no one. You’re thirty years old. There’s still plenty of life ahead. A husband, kids.” She sighed. “Stop burying yourself in the hills, and start thinking about living again.”

“I’m not buried, and I don’t want a husband and kids. I had my shot. It’s over.”

“Maybe not right now. But in time, I’ll bet you will. Besides, you are a brilliant artist letting your gift go to waste. You know if you come back to Dallas, you could get work in a gallery right away, especially with Mimi’s influence.”

That’d be the day. “Can we please drop it? What about you?” I was just ticked off enough with her to turn the tables. “When are you going to tell me why you’re really here?”

She scowled and turned her head back to the scene playing before us. Rippling water, leaves on the bank below blowing gently in the breeze. Every now and then a bass jumped and made a splash. All these things were good distractions for a girl who didn’t want to come clean. “If you don’t tell me, I’m calling Mother.”

“Don’t use the
M
word, please.” A groan escaped her lips. “I suppose I have to talk about it someday. Guess who is the latest casualty of the recession?”

My mind searched to figure out who she meant. Then it struck me she meant herself. “Lola. You were fired?”

“Downsized. With references.” She gave a wry, humorless smile.

“Oh, man. What did Mother say?”

A laugh, without humor. “That she’d make a few calls on my behalf.”

“Oy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” She pushed back a strand of hair that had blown into her face. “I said thanks but no thanks, but did that stop our mother?”

“Not a chance.”

“The question was rhetorical, but you’re right. She called three clinics and had me a job within fifteen minutes.”

“And yet you want me to let Mother ‘make some calls’ for me?”

She tilted her head and gave me a quirky grin. This one I believed. “Misery loves company?”

I laughed with her, because really, what else was there to do? “Poor Mother. We must be such a disappointment.”

“Well, Dad would be proud of us for not bending to the status quo. I should call him and invite him to go to Africa on a medical mission. He’d love that. At least I’d have one parent’s approval.”

“Dad approves of us no matter what.”

“Yeah, I always thought that was cool until I grew up and realized that apathy and not unconditional love is what made him that way.”

I hated for her to talk that way about him, but truth be told, she nailed it. “I guess it was a lot easier to live and let live than try to guide us in any way.”

“Poor Dad.”

“So, you’re here indefinitely, then?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’ve had about enough. I’m headed back next week. I’m paying a fortune for that rig I rented.”

“Yes, and now that you’re unemployed for about five minutes—because we both know you’ll find a job as soon as you go home—you can’t be too careful with funds.”

Neither of us mentioned the trust funds we hadn’t touched. I never used it because Jarrod wanted to support me. We had talked of using my trust for retirement if we had to, but until then, we kept it tucked away where it had always been. Lola simply hadn’t needed the money. She was a great doctor, after all, and pulled in plenty to support herself.

We turned and walked back up to the house. As we got close, I heard the high-pitched whine of the electric saw, but there was no sign of Eli’s truck. As he had mentioned on my birthday, he hired two guys and put them to work on my place the very next day. Tim Scott, a freshly graduated teenager who was trying desperately to save up for his first semester of college, and Joe MacGregor, a thirty-five-year-old out-of-work contractor Eli knew from church. And unless I was mistaken, Joe had his eye on my sister, poor guy. Lola, an up-and-coming ob-gyn in Dallas, wasn’t likely to be attracted to a contractor who hadn’t gone to college. She wasn’t a snob exactly, but to her, social status did have some bearing on compatibility.

Joe looked up from where he was sawing two-by-fours and nodded at us as we passed.

“Besides,” I said, looking askance at my sister and picking up the part of our conversation where she told me I needed a life, “at least I’ve had my man. You keep picking Mr. Wrong—on purpose. Some might say it’s so you don’t have to commit.”

“That’s ridiculous. I work all the time. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“But you have time to leave a string of broken hearts across the Dallas-Fort Worth area. And unless I miss my guess, you’ve already made a date with my handyman.”

She glanced back at Joe, then at me again. “Hardly a handyman. More like a swarthy contractor. With big dreamy muscles.” She shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “It won’t hurt to go out to dinner with him,” Lola said.

“Why do you want to give poor Joe false hope?” I asked. “He’s a great catch for a girl around here. Good looking …”


Really
good looking …”

“Right. Okay. Really good looking. Kind, smart—”

“Which is a nice bonus.”

“You’re such a snob.”

“No. I just want a guy I can have a decent conversation with.”

“Really? I had no idea. I thought you were just looking for a man with good genes to father your two point five children.”

“It’s one point eight now. Didn’t you know that?”

“I guess I missed that memo.” I laughed at my sister.

Lola laughed back at me. “Get with the program, sister dear.”

Unlike me, Lola had her life plan firmly in place, and she had since her tenth birthday when she watched a live birth on some documentary. Mother was mortified to discover she’d watched it, of course, but Lola knew at that moment what she would do with her life.

Over the years, she broke more than one heart in her determination to not marry until she graduated, got through residency, and set up her
own practice. And she’d done it—except for having her own practice. With a little help from our mom, of course. Financially and then by recommendation. The elite women of Texas bared it all for my sis. But Lola wasn’t too proud to take it. Or she hadn’t been the first time around. I guessed pride was an issue now.

We stopped next to a bed of daisies, and I bent to clear out a few weeds.

Lola knelt beside me but kept her manicure out of the dirt. She sighed. “Now all I need is my husband. Well, a job and a husband. But like you said, I’m fairly certain another position will present itself soon.”

“How does going out with Joe and breaking the poor guy’s heart fit in with your life plan?”

“And you call me a snob?”

“Come on.”

“Okay, you got me. I can’t resist those shoulders. We’ll have a good time while I’m here and that will be that.”

“Poor Joe. All that false hope.”

“Dinner, a little conversation, a nice wine. That’s not false hope. It’s called a casual date. And most men want that.”

“Not salt-of-the-earth men.” Oh well. I glanced at my watch. “I have to dash. Are you sure you don’t want to come to town with me?”

She gave me a little pout. “Can’t you stay home today? We could go shopping or something. Besides, why work for now? You don’t have to.”

What was supposed to be a month-long job at the Nature of Things had turned into a full-time gig for as long as I wanted it. The teenager who was supposed to work had gotten a better offer—a month-long vacation in Florida. Who could blame her? But it did leave Samantha
in something of a lurch, and I had felt more than a little obligated, especially after she bought me lunch on my birthday and gave me the dish on Ava.

“I like it,” I said as we turned to walk back toward the house. “It keeps my head occupied with things besides Jarrod.”

She looped her arm with mine. “I know. It’s a good thing. I’m just being selfish. Oh, look, there’s Joe again.” She waved and the contractor, whose hands were full of wood for my new porch, nodded his acknowledgement. They were going to build a frame and lay brick, the kind of porch I always wanted. No concrete for me. Joe wore a tank top that showed off deeply tanned arms and neck. His dark sunglasses hid a pair of “dreamy”—Lola’s word—brown eyes.

“Hi, ladies,” he called out. “Have a nice walk?”

“We sure did. The only thing missing was you.” Lola had invited him to go along, but of course he had declined. That was work ethic for you.

“I’m sure it was my loss,” he said. “Next time.”

I left Lola standing outside while I quickly dashed inside and upstairs. I grabbed a fresh change of clothes. Then I showered, dressed, and ran a brush through my hair. I’d never worn much makeup, and now I wore less, but a brush of a mineral base and a little mascara kept me from scaring off the customers.

Lola’s upbeat demeanor had changed by the time I came downstairs. She now sat at the breakfast table staring pensively out the window.

I poured myself a to-go cup of coffee but hesitated before walking away. I’d worry all day if I left her with that troubled expression, creasing her flawless brow.

“Everything okay?” I asked, absently sipping from the thermal mug.

“I’m not sure,” she said without looking at me.

I glanced through the glass, following her gaze. “Something wrong with Joe?”

“There has to be.” She looked up at me. “You don’t think he’s gay, do you?”

I nearly spat my coffee across the room. With difficulty, I kept my composure and swallowed hard. “Gay? Joe?” Laughter bubbled up in my throat. “He’s the town Casanova. Every single girl between the ages of twenty and forty has either dated him or desperately wishes she could.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, Lola. What’s wrong? Doesn’t he seem interested?” She had been peeking out the back window while the two men worked on the deck all week. “I guess you’ll have to keep worshiping from afar. At least you can sit at the table and be a more comfortable Peeping Tom while he works on the front porch.”

“Don’t mock. This is tragic.” She frowned and looked back outside. “I invited him inside for lunch later. I was planning to cook shrimp scampi with my own hands, and you know what he said?”

“I’m guessing he said ‘no thanks’?”

“Exactly. He packed a sandwich and a Pepsi and is going fishing by the river.”

“You could always go with him.” I felt a little sorry for my poor perplexed sis. She was usually the evader in a situation like this.

“I actually invited myself to go. Me! Fishing.”

“Well, then—”

“Corrie, he said, ‘No offense, hon, but I spend my lunch hour with someone else.’ ”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch. I’m this close to canceling my dinner with him tomorrow.”

“Well, I have to dash.” I grabbed my to-go cup of coffee and headed toward the hallway. “Don’t do anything just because you’re embarrassed. He probably just needs the time to clear his head.”

Lola, being an extrovert, didn’t understand anyone with that sort of personality. Even me.

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“I’ll probably lie in the sun on your new deck and read the new Emily Giffin book.” Eli knew I needed a place to sit outside in the mornings and evenings, so he’d made sure the new deck was built at the back of the house before he started tearing out the front porch. Apparently that project was going forward today.

“Good plan.” I glanced at my watch. Eight thirty. “Okay, I have to go now. I’ll be home around two.”

She was already staring out at Joe again.

“See ya, Joe!” I called as I walked to my Jeep.

He grinned and nodded. “Have a good day at the store.” He motioned to the porch. “This will all be out of here when you get back. You’ll probably have to go inside through the back for a few days.”

“It’s okay. It’s worth it.”

I smiled as I drove off down the steep driveway. I wasn’t nearly as nervous about the road after driving to town four days a week for
Sam Murdock. I saw a lot of Eli’s mom these days, more than I did of him.

She was swamped by the time I got there, even though it was ten minutes before nine. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said. “Can you take over on the register?”

“Sure.” I tossed my purse under the counter and greeted the next customer in line.

Within thirty minutes the air inside the little shop had grown warm and sultry, and my forehead had begun to bead with sweat. I hated to say anything, but some of the customers were complaining in their polite southern manner.

I smiled and handed a young woman her women’s formula probiotic multivitamin, then closed the register, twisted the key, and slipped the stretchy band over my hand. The door opened as I started over to Samantha, and I glanced up to find Eli standing against the blinding sun.

“Whew,” he said. “Mom was right. It’s like a sauna in here.”

I should have known Sam would be on it whether she kept me posted or not. And I had to admit it was nice to see Eli. It had been several days. “Are you the cavalry?” I asked, smiling up at him.

“We’ll see. I told Mom she needed to put in a new air-conditioning system last year, but she wanted to get another year out of it.”

Samantha joined us, her breath a little heavy, probably from the excess heat. “Corrie, honey,” she said. “Can you do us a favor and drive Aunt Trudy to the grocery store? I was supposed to do it, but with the air acting up, I hate to leave just yet. I need to get some fans going, and besides, I need to be here to reassure my customers.”

Eli scowled. “What she means is she wants to look over my shoulder.”

“What a bunch of nonsense,” she said, but sent me a wink that belied her objection. “What do you say, Corrie?”

Eli spoke before I could. “Maybe Aunt Trudy could just call Ray or one of the girls to drive her.”

My stomach did a little turn at the thought of spending alone time with Aunt Trudy. But I was intrigued with her insight that Jarrod wasn’t gone for good. That perhaps he was trying to contact me or reveal himself to me.

BOOK: The Widow of Saunders Creek
7.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A VERY TUDOR CHRISTMAS by AMANDA McCABE,
Life Interrupted by Kristen Kehoe
Murder Is Private by Diane Weiner
Final Vector by Allan Leverone
Cinderella Search by Gill, Judy Griffith;
God Save the Queen by Amanda Dacyczyn