Your Heart's Desire (3 page)

She'd dressed relatively casually for her errands. Not trousers, although she'd wanted to, but being new in town—and new to California life—she felt she should dress for the occasion. And a work suit seemed a bit over the top. So she'd worn a dress she'd made for herself last summer. The first new thing she'd had since the war began. It was only a simple shirtwaist dress in a practical gray-and-white-checked fabric, with a little white collar. Over her shoulders, she'd draped a gray cashmere sweater (a thoughtful Christmas gift from her parents) not because she was cold, but simply because it was almost January and to go without outerwear seemed shocking. Besides, the soft sweater felt luxurious.

She had numerous items on her list, and doubted she could accomplish everything today, but determined to try. Mostly she was grateful for the ground beneath her feet (not the rumbling train) and she was eager to get acquainted with Golden Oaks. She knew from what Marjorie had told her that the population was just under twenty thousand. Very small compared to what she was used to, but big enough to have some interesting businesses. And because it was a bedroom city to Los Angeles, she suspected Golden Oaks was much more cosmopolitan than a town of similar size in Minnesota. She wanted to walk around and imagine what it would feel like to be a real citizen here.

It was interesting to see the tidy little town in the morning light. And staggering to see that flowerpots were in full bloom! Most of the buildings seemed relatively new, as if this town had sprouted up in the twentieth century. The chocolate company appeared to be one of the oldest ones, and the brass sign in front said:
COMPANY FOUNDED IN 1903—FACTORY BUILT IN 1913
. She peered in the front window of the factory, but it looked dark and quiet inside. Even the cute little retail shop next to it was closed. She read the sign on the door, discovering that, like most of the other shops and stores, it didn't open until ten on Saturdays.

And since it was barely past nine, she decided to buy a newspaper from the newsstand and try out Dee Dee's Coffee Shop. Dee Dee's was just one block down from the chocolate factory, and judging from the traffic going in and out, it was a busy place. She waited her turn to order her coffee and butterhorn, then carried them to the only unoccupied table. Proceeding to make herself comfortable, she opened her paper and read the front page, then skimmed the following pages, before finally settling into the employment section of the classified ads. With a pencil handy to circle anything of interest, she studied the first ad with care. It was for an accountant, and although she'd had one bookkeeping class in secretarial school, she did not feel it was her strong suit.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said.

She looked up to see an attractive dark-haired man smiling down on her. Dressed casually in tan trousers and a dark blue knit shirt, it was his disarming smile that made her catch her breath.
“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I sit here for a bit?” He nodded to where the rest of the small coffee shop was packed full. “Until another table opens up.”

“Not at all.” She gave him a polite but slightly nervous smile. “I felt a little guilty taking this big table all to myself, but it was the only one left. Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” He sat down in the chair to her right and removed the first section of a much bulkier newspaper than the local one she had opened. She peered to see it was the
Los Angeles Times
. Leaning back in the straight-back chair, the handsome stranger took a relaxed sip of his coffee as he gazed at the front page. She was tempted to read the headline, but knew that was rude. And why was she staring at him? What was wrong with her anyway?

Feeling silly and slightly unsettled, she attempted to refocus her attention on the employment ads, but there was no denying that this attractive gentleman was proving a major distraction. That in itself was curious, since she'd never wasted much time concerning herself with men in general—not in the last decade anyway. And if anyone ever asked, she clearly communicated that she had no interest in dating…and no intentions of ever marrying again—period. But at the moment she felt strangely obsessed with trying to get a glimpse of this stranger's left hand. Curious as to whether his ring finger was occupied or not. Although that seemed rather ridiculous considering that her own ring finger, currently concealed by her newspaper, still displayed the gold band that Joe had given her back in 1934.

Stop it—stop it—stop it!
She silently scolded herself for being such a nitwit. Then, fixing her attention back onto the employment ads, she used her pencil to circle a large help-wanted ad without even reading it. Simply to appear preoccupied.

“Hunting for a job?” he asked.

She turned to look at him, but when their eyes locked, she grew as tongue-tied and awkward as a schoolgirl. “Uh, yes,” she stammered, “as a matter of fact, I am.”

He laid down his newspaper with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a busybody. I just noticed you were reading the employment ads. Excuse me for intruding.”

“That's okay.” She smiled meekly.

With a doubtful look, he reached over and pointed to the ad she'd just circled. “You, uh, have mechanical experience?”

Now she peered more closely at the ad. It was for a garage mechanic. She laughed in embarrassment. “Oh, dear! Silly me.” She crossed the ad out, then shook her head. “I must be tired.” She picked up her coffee and, taking a slow sip, willed herself to become invisible. A garage mechanic—
really
?

“Are you new in town?” He leaned forward slightly.

“Fresh off the train.” She quickly explained how she'd just arrived last night. “All the way from Minnesota. Three days, two nights. Some people say they sleep marvelously on trains, but I'm not one of them.”

“I never sleep well on trains, either.”

“Joseph had no problem whatsoever. He slept like a baby.” She saw the question in his eyes. “Uh, Joseph is my son. He's with me,” she rambled nervously. “Well, not
here
with me. He's with my sister and her husband at the moment. I came to town to look around and do some shopping.” She felt even sillier now. Why was she going on like this?

“I see…”

She took in a deep breath. “Sorry…I didn't mean to give you my whole personal history. I suppose I'm still feeling a bit sleep-deprived.”

“But you
are
looking for a job?”

She made a stiff smile. “Yes, I am. But not as a car mechanic.” Her smile became uncomfortable. “The truth is I'm not even a very good driver.”

To her relief he laughed.

“I need to find work as soon as possible,” she confessed. “My brother-in-law works for MG Chocolates and he says they're hiring right now, and that I might possibly get a job on the assembly line.”

“Have you worked an assembly line before?”

“No.” She smiled sheepishly. “But I like chocolate.”

He laughed again, and she felt herself relaxing a bit more.

“I actually worked as a stenographer. You see, I did a full secretarial course and worked for an insurance company until I married.” She paused, wondering why she was telling him all this, but he did seem interested. “After that I had a very good secretarial job at a Minneapolis factory.” She sighed. “I'd been there nearly five years, throughout the war.”

“Laid off because of the returning servicemen?” His expression looked sympathetic.

“Actually I was one of the few women
not
laid off,” she confided. “I quit my job when we decided to come out here.”

“I see…”

“I hope I didn't do it backward though.”

“Backward?”

“Yes. I keep wondering if I should've secured a job out here before giving up the one back there. You know the old saying, a bird in the hand…” She frowned. “I was just reading an article in
Life
magazine. Jobs are scarcer than ever.”

“Over all, I'm sure that jobs are scarce. But opportunities vary from region to region. And you're right about MG Chocolates. We are hiring for the assembly line.”

“We?”
She studied him closely. “You work there, too?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“I suspect you don't work on the assembly line.” Of course, as soon as she said this, she regretted it. People took all kinds of jobs these days. Work was work and you were lucky if you could get it. Who was she to judge?

“I've worked the line before.”

“Really?” She blinked in surprise.

“As a matter of fact, I got rather good at it. You have to have fast hands and a quick mind.” He studied her. “Do you think you'd have those skills?”

She set the newspaper aside to look down at her hands, spreading her fingers. “Well, I can type pretty fast, and that takes some quick thinking. But to be honest, I'm not sure how that would translate to an assembly line.”

“Well, you never know until you try.” He took a sip of coffee, glancing over his shoulder.

“Right. And if I don't find something else…something more suitable to my training and background…” She shrugged. “Well, the assembly line would be better than nothing.” She wanted to add that she would do almost anything to support herself and her son, but knew that would sound desperate…and pathetic.

“Then I suggest you get your application in as soon as possible. I hear they've received quite a stack already.”

“I plan to go in first thing on Monday.”

“Good luck with that.” He pointed to a small table on the other side of the coffee shop that had just vacated. “And now I will leave you to your paper and your peace.” He tipped his head politely. “Thank you.”

She picked up her paper, but peace was nowhere to be found now. Something about that man, the way he questioned her, the way he looked at her, well, it just made her uncomfortable. Too familiar…too personal…too disconcerting. And she didn't even know his name! If this was how people—particularly male people—behaved out here in California, well, maybe she was in the wrong place!

Chapter 4

Caroline pushed thoughts of
the disturbing stranger from her mind as she strolled up and down Main Street, going from store to shop, visiting with the various businesses as she attempted to locate the miscellaneous items on her list. From basic cleaning supplies to slipcover fabric, table lamps to area rugs, it felt like she needed a little bit of everything. And to her relief the small town of Golden Oaks seemed to have it.

By noon she had unearthed all sorts of treasure and most items on her list were crossed off. Not only that, but many of the shops, when they discovered she was on foot, arranged for free delivery later in the day. Her last stop was at the grocery store, where she pulled out another list. When she discovered their delivery service was free for anyone with a revolving account, she agreed, gratefully handing the young man her rather large list. As he made a rounded tally, she filled out the form for her account.

“We'll get that to you around three,” he said as she handed him a check. As he made her a receipt, she totaled what remained in her checkbook, trying not to cringe at the surprisingly low number—hoping she'd made a mistake.

As she walked back home, she mentally retraced her spending. It wasn't as if she hadn't been frugal. She had! She'd shopped for bargains and asked about discounts. And the larger purchases, like the dresser for Joseph and a small kitchen table and two chairs and a few other items, had all been from a nicely run secondhand store.

However, her nest egg had taken a beating. And, although she'd given herself a fairly strict budget, which included what she'd set aside to repay Rich for the new mattresses, she wasn't sure there was enough left over to tide her and Joseph by until she secured a job—and a paycheck. Suddenly the idea of working on an assembly line or even as a car mechanic didn't sound so terrible. When times were hard—and she'd certainly been through plenty of them—you simply did what you had to do. And you prayed a lot.

“There you are,” Marjorie said happily as Caroline walked across the yard with her arms full of bags and packages. “What on earth have you got there?”

“Just a few things for the apartment.” Caroline set a bag next to the exterior entrance to the basement apartment and came over to where Marjorie was sitting on the front porch steps, sunning her legs, which already looked golden tan.

“Well, your trunks and things were delivered from the train station just a little bit ago. I had the men put them inside your door. Don't trip over them. And I put the extra paint I told you about down there. As well as paintbrushes and some old sheets I was using for drop cloths and a few other things.”

“Thanks.” Caroline looked around the yard. “Where are the kids?”

“Lulu is napping. And Joseph is reading to Danny. And when he's finished, Danny is supposed to take a nap, too.” She sighed happily. “My favorite time of day. And even better with Joseph here to help out. I'm tempted to steal that boy from you, Caroline. He is a gem.”

Caroline smiled. “I know.”

“And Danny just adores him.”

“I'm so glad.”

“Well, you probably want to go put your packages away.” Marjorie stifled a yawn. “And I might just grab a nap myself.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Caroline nodded. “I remember how tired I would get when I was expecting Joseph. I can't imagine how much more exhausting it must be to have two little ones to chase with a new one on the way.”

“You got that right.” Marjorie brightened as she slowly stood. “And that reminds me of something. Can I ask you a favor, Caroline?”

“Of course.”

“Well, it's been ages and ages since Rich and I have gone out. You know, just the two of us together. Like a date. And I realized this morning that it won't be too long before I won't fit into a nice evening dress and—”

“I would love to watch your kids for you tonight,” Caroline offered.

“You would?”

“Absolutely. You two go out and have a good time.” She set down her packages and reached for her handbag. “And that reminds me.” She pulled out a check. “This is for the mattresses. Tell me if it's not enough. And tell Rich they are very comfortable and we're so grateful.”

Marjorie threw her arms around Caroline. “You are the best sister in the whole world. I have missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too.” Caroline held her close.

“How does seven sound?” Marjorie asked. “I mean for us to go out? Will that work for you?”

“Seven is great.” Caroline started gathering up her packages again. “That'll give me time to get a few things done in there.”

“I'm going to call and see if I can get reservations for the new dinner club. It opened up before Christmas. It's called Parisian Moonlight.” She sighed. “Doesn't that sound romantic? Dinner and dancing…oh, I can hardly wait!”

Marjorie happily went into the house, and Caroline carried her purchases into the apartment. Unfortunately, the apartment looked even more dismal than she remembered and the air smelled worse than Joseph's smelliest tennis shoes. But as she changed into dungarees and an old plaid shirt that Joe used to call his “Saturday shirt,” she reassured herself that this was a temporary problem. Nothing a little elbow grease and strong soap wouldn't solve. Squinting to see her reflection in the murky bathroom mirror, she tied a protective scarf around her hair, imagining how much better the little apartment could look when she was finished. What a great way to show her appreciation to Marjorie and Rich.

Before unpacking her cleaning supplies, she opened the few small windows and the screen door. Then she rolled up her sleeves. Her first task was to attack the disgusting bathroom. As she scrubbed down the shower stall she was surprised to discover that the tiles were actually white, not dingy gray. And the sink and toilet turned out to be white as well. She was just done washing down the last wall when she heard Joseph calling for her.

“I'm in here,” she yelled back.

“What're you doing?” he asked.

She stifled the urge to be sarcastic. “Cleaning.” She stood up straight, dropping the washrag into the bucket of dirty water and surveying her work. “What do you think?”

“Looks better.” He ran a finger over the shining white porcelain sink. “I didn't want to say anything, but it was kind of scary looking last night.”

“I have to agree with you.” She ruffled his blond curls. “I hear you've been really helpful with Danny today. Thanks.”

“He's a funny little kid, but I kind of like him.” Joseph leaned against the counter with a surprisingly mature expression. “He's asleep now.”

“Did you have lunch?”

“Yeah. Aunt Marjorie made us peanut butter sandwiches and milk.”

“I figured she'd feed you.” She pushed a stray lock of hair back under her scarf.

“You need any help, Mom?”

“Really?” She peered into his face. “You
want
to help?”

“I don't mind.”

She looked around the tiny bathroom. “How do you feel about painting?”

“Painting?” His eyes grew wide. “You mean the walls?”

She pointed to the wall she'd just cleaned. Although it looked better, it was a grungy shade of beige and rather splotchy. “Do you think you'd be a very good painter?”

He shrugged. “I helped paint that mural at my school. Remember?”

“I do remember. It was nice.”

“Seems like painting a wall with just one color would be easier.”

“Do you want to try?”

His eyes lit up.
“Yeah!”

It wasn't long until they both decided the aqua-blue paint would be nice in the bathroom. Then they discussed how to use the drop cloth and a few other things, including a wooden box for him to stand on to reach higher. Caroline offered to get the highest sections. And thanks to his school mural experience, Joseph seemed to understand the basics of painting even better than she did. After he changed into some old clothes, Caroline simply stepped back and let him go at it. But as she watched him dipping a brush into the paint can she felt guilty. Sure, he was mature for his age and wanted to help, but shouldn't an almost ten-year-old be outside? “Are you certain you want to do this?” she asked one more time.

“Yeah, Mom.” He didn't even look up as he brushed a wide stripe of aqua-blue paint on the wall next to the toilet. “This is fun!”

“Well, if it's too hard, just quit,” she told him as she moved away from the doorway. “Yell if you need help.”

He continued brushing the paint on, making the swath wider. “I like this, Mom. Really. Look how good that color looks.”

She chuckled to herself as she remembered Tom Sawyer and the whitewashed picket fence. Hopefully she hadn't tricked Joseph into this. “Well, I'll understand if you change your mind. In the meantime, I'll be cleaning the kitchen.”

For the next hour or so, they both worked quietly. She was nearly done cleaning the tiny kitchen when she heard someone calling through the screen door. “Grocery delivery for Mrs. Clark.”

“I'm coming,” she yelled as she ran to let the young man inside, warning him to watch his step as he carried the big box inside.

“Put it there,” she pointed to the still damp countertop.

He set it down, then looked around the disheveled place with a puzzled expression. “You really live in this?”

“We're just moving in,” she explained. “It's still a little messy.”

He frowned. “And small.”

“Yes, well, it's big enough. Here, let me get you a tip.”

He held up his hands. “No, that's okay, ma'am.”

“But I—”

“Maybe next time.” And just like that he hurried away.

Caroline chuckled to herself as she imagined how this place must've seemed to the young man. He probably refused his tip because he figured they were very impoverished and desperately in need of every penny. That was actually very sweet and, in some ways, not too far from the truth. As she put away the perishable items, she promised herself that she would tip him generously the next time she had groceries delivered. Hopefully there would be a next time.

“How's it going?” She poked her head into the bathroom, suppressing the urge to laugh when she saw that Joseph was speckled and streaked with aqua-blue paint.

“I got kind of messy,” he said. “But I haven't gotten any on the floor or the toilet or anything.”

“And look how much you got done. Almost the whole wall, except for the top section. And the biggest wall, too. Nice work.”

Just as she was helping Joseph to clean up outside, a panel truck pulled up with the items she'd purchased from the secondhand shop. She directed the two men through the messy space, watching as they set the pieces into place and even talked them into taking some of the old pieces out to the driveway. Like the grocery boy, they seemed to feel sorry for her living conditions, too, but they didn't refuse a tip.

She returned to the bathroom, picking up where Joseph had left off, and like him, she discovered it was rather fun to paint. Watching something old and messy transformed into something fresh and clean was invigorating. And the aqua-blue color was fresh and fun.

“That looks good, Mom.” Joseph poked his head through the doorway.

“Thanks to your hard work.”

“I moved my boxes to my room,” he told her. “I haven't unpacked too much yet, but Danny wants me to play with him.”

“Good idea.” She felt relieved to think Joseph might have some fun.

By the time she finished cleaning up the messy paint things, it was getting dusky. Hopefully she'd have enough time to unpack some boxes, locate some kitchen pans and tools, and fix them some dinner before it was time to go upstairs to watch her niece and nephew. She was just unpacking her dishes when she heard footsteps clomping down the steep wooden staircase and Joseph calling. “Aunt Marjorie asked if you want to help fix dinner,” he explained. “That way she can get dressed.” He frowned. “Except that she's
already
dressed.”

“Oh, she means
dressed up
. She and Rich are going out tonight. I offered to babysit Danny and Lulu.”

As she finished cleaning Marjorie's kitchen, Caroline couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this tired. Besides all the work in the apartment, she'd fixed the kids dinner, given Lulu a bath and put her to bed, played Chinese checkers with Joseph and Danny, and gotten Danny headed for bed (with Joseph's help). Now it was only half past eight, but she was exhausted.

“I read Danny
two
picture books,” Joseph said as he joined her in the kitchen. “And I told him if he didn't go to sleep without a peep, I wouldn't read him any books tomorrow. And he was quiet as a mouse.”

“You're amazing.” She ruffled his hair.