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He wished he could pull her into his embrace a second time. He wished he could comfort her a little while longer. Instead, he said, “It’s understandable. You have a tree sitting in your beautician’s chair.”

That drew a little smile. “You’re kind.”

“I’m glad I can help.” He motioned with his arm toward Municipal Street. “Now, let’s have Angie take you home.”

Chapter 7

“DON’T YOU DARE CANCEL,” Angie scolded over the telephone the next afternoon.

Terri lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t
feel
like going out.”

“Of course you don’t, but you need to anyway.”

“I won’t be a fun date. I’m tired, and I’m worried.”

“Mel will understand. And going out will take your mind off the salon for a few hours. You need that. Sometimes escape can be a good thing. Instead of thinking about your building’s roof, you can watch Tom Cruise save civilization from the pod people or whatever they are.”

Worry churned in Terri’s stomach. There was a wide gap between the early estimate for repair costs and what she thought the insurance policy would cover. BJ had told her to relax, that the adjuster wasn’t finished assessing the damage; Terri wasn’t doing a good job of following that particular piece of advice.

Fear was the opposite of faith. She knew that. Yet fear persisted. She couldn’t keep appointments at her shattered salon, and the law wouldn’t allow her to work out of her home without major renovations.

The facts were, no appointments, no income. She had some money in savings, but nowhere near enough. She and Lyssa had never done without any necessity. God had been faithful to provide. But if she couldn’t work, what would—

“Terri, are you listening to me?”

“What?” She blinked. “Oh…No…Sorry.”

Angie laughed softly. “I’m taking Lyssa for the night, and
you
are going out to dinner and a movie with Mel. Get used to it. I’ll see you about 5:00.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“That’s a little over an hour from now.”

“I know. Lyssa will be ready for you.”

“And you need to get ready, too. You know what I mean. Do something with your hair. Put on some makeup.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. All right. Quit nagging.”

They said good-bye, and Terri hung up the phone.

She could have told Angie it wasn’t
that
kind of date. She liked Mel, but it wasn’t as if she expected fireworks. They barely knew each other. Besides, now wasn’t a good time for her to contemplate romance. Not with her salon wrecked and her money worries. No, she and Mel would probably end up as friends and that would be fine with her. A person could never have too many friends.

She rose from the bed and crossed the room to the closet, feeling better now that her expectations for the evening had been set in order.

“Wear that sweater you got in the mail, Mom.”

Terri glanced over her shoulder to look at Lyssa striding into the bedroom, holding a small bag of chips in her left hand.

“That one there.” Her daughter pointed to the soft teal sweater Terri had received from a catalog order a couple of weeks before. “It’s almost the same color as your eyes.”

Terri pulled the sweater, tags still attached, from the shelf in her closet, shook it out, then held it in front of her as she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. She shouldn’t wear it. She should return it for a refund. Money would be tight for a long while to come. She needed to save and cut corners every way she could. She had plenty of sweaters already, and summer would be here soon. She wouldn’t need her sweaters then.

“Mr. Jenkins thinks you’re pretty, Mom.”

“Does he?” She felt a flutter of unanticipated pleasure.

“Sure.” Lyssa hopped on to her mother’s bed and pretzeled her legs. “’Cause you are. Everybody thinks so.”

“I doubt everybody does. You do because you’re prejudiced.”

“What’s that?”

“Prejudiced?” She sank onto the bed beside her daughter. “It means you’re predisposed to be biased for or against something.”

The frown on Lyssa’s forehead told Terri the definition hadn’t clarified the meaning.

She ruffled her daughter’s hair with one hand, then stroked her cheek. “You see me as pretty because you love me, because I’m your mom, not because of how I really look.”

Lyssa’s mouth pursed and her eyes narrowed. “Nope,” she said after a lengthy pause, her smile returning. “I think you’re pretty ’cause you are.”

As she rose from the bed, Terri smiled briefly, knowing she wouldn’t change her daughter’s mind and glad of it. She walked to the mirror and held the blue-green sweater against her torso. Lyssa was right. It was a close match to the color of her eyes. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to keep it. It hadn’t been all that expensive.

A wave of panic hit her like an unexpected punch in the stomach.
God, how will we manage until the salon can reopen?
The room seemed to sway, and her stomach hurt.

“Mom, I like Mr. Jenkins. He’s really nice.”

I’ve got enough money in the bank to make the next mortgage payment. But how long will it be before I can work again? What if my clients go elsewhere? What if I can’t get them back once I reopen? They might find someone they like better. How much will I need to borrow to make the repairs? I don’t know if my credit is good enough for what I’ll need. If it isn’t…

She lowered her gaze from the mirror, unable to look at her reflection any longer.

“You like the coach, too. Right, Mom?”

She shook her head from side to side, not listening to her daughter as a litany of her problems—existing and potential—played in her mind.

* * *

After leaving her mom to get dressed, Lyssa went into her bedroom and closed the door. She sank onto the floor near the built-in shelves that held her most prized possessions—her various sports trophies, an autographed baseball, a collection of stuffed teddy bears and Breyer horses, her favorite books.

She felt awful. She’d heard her mom talking on the phone, saying she didn’t want to go out with Coach Jenkins tonight. Her mom didn’t like the coach after all. She was unhappy, and it was Lyssa’s fault. If Lyssa hadn’t tricked the coach into winning the cake at the carnival, then he wouldn’t have asked her mom to go to the movies with him; and if her mom hadn’t agreed to go, then she wouldn’t be sad now.

Lyssa should’ve told her mom she didn’t have to go anywhere with the coach. She didn’t want to be a starting pitcher badly enough to make her mom do something she didn’t want to do, something that made her miserable. Besides, Coach had said Lyssa wasn’t ready yet. She shouldn’t be so impatient. Worse, she shouldn’t be so selfish. And she never should’ve lied about the number she pulled out of the bowl at the cakewalk.

“Dear Jesus, please don’t let my mom be unhappy. I’m sorry for what I did, really sorry. I’ll make it up to her somehow. I promise.”

* * *

Two thoughts crossed Mel’s mind when Terri opened the door for him: she looked tired—understandable, considering what had happened to her salon yesterday—and she looked beautiful. How she managed to do both at the same time amazed him.

“How’s it going?”

She gave a slight shrug. “Okay.”

He might not know her as well as he hoped to, but he knew her well enough to recognize the worry in her eyes. Maybe he should tell her they didn’t have to—

“Let me grab my purse and coat, and we can go.”

Minutes later, they were in his car, headed for the Over the Rainbow Diner. Mel had considered taking Terri to a nicer restaurant up at the resort or down in Twin Falls, but something had told him it was best to keep this first date simple and casual.

Simple and casual…but maybe it shouldn’t be dead silent.

He cleared his throat. “Is Lyssa ready for our practice tomorrow? We’ve got lots to work on before the season opener.”

“She’s always ready to play baseball. Practice or an actual game, she loves it. She has since she was about four years old. Instead of
Sesame Street
, she wanted to watch baseball games on ESPN.”

“She’s a good kid. I’ve enjoyed coaching her.” He glanced to his right. In the glow of the streetlights, he saw Terri smile as she stared out the front windshield.

“She
is
a good kid.” The simple words were laced with a mother’s love.

“Does Lyssa remember her dad?”

Terri didn’t reply.

“Sorry.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s none of my business.”

“No. It’s okay. I guess I assume everybody in Hart’s Crossing already knows the whole pitiful story.”

“We don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind talking about it, Mel.” She laughed softly. “And isn’t that why we’re going out? So we can get to know each other better and become friends?”

Mel hoped they would become more than friends, but he kept that to himself.

“First dates are awkward, aren’t they?” Terri added.

He chuckled. “Can’t say I remember. I haven’t been on a first date in years.” He felt her looking at him but kept his gaze on the road.

“I suppose that’s something you should tell me about.”

He supposed so, too.

“In answer to your question,” Terri said, “Lyssa’s dad doesn’t see her. After he moved away, he broke off all contact, with me and with his daughter. Lyssa was a toddler when Vic left, so she doesn’t remember him. That makes things a little easier, I suppose.” She paused before adding, “But not having a dad leaves a void in her life, all the same. Every little girl wants a dad to love and to love her back.”

Mel wondered if Terri felt a void in her life, too. “Must have been rough for you both.”

“Hard enough.”

A number of follow-up questions filled Mel’s head, but he had no time to ask them before he pulled into a parking space not far from the diner.

* * *

Seated in the rear booth at the Over the Rainbow Diner, red baskets of Tin Man Fish and Chips and tall glasses of Diet Coke on the table between them, Terri found herself relaxing in Mel’s company. He made her feel comfortable, as if she’d known him all of her life. Perhaps it was the gentle tone of his voice or the way he leaned forward whenever she spoke, as if he didn’t want to miss a single word she said. Being with him made her forget her worries about the salon and the insurance and her too-low bank account balance.

Responding to his questions, she told him more about the end of her marriage after Vic left town with another woman. She shared the challenges of being a single mom, but she also talked about the joys of motherhood and Lyssa’s dreams of playing in the Little League World Series.

She felt her cheeks grow warm when she realized how long she’d talked about herself. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had plied so much information out of her at one sitting.

She took a quick sip of her cola. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about yourself. What brought you to Hart’s Crossing?”

“Besides my job?”

She nodded.

“I lost someone, too. I was engaged. We’d been planning the wedding for months when my fiancée passed away suddenly. She was sick only a short time. No one realized she was that ill. Not me. Not her parents.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mel nodded, acknowledging her sympathy. “I shut down for a long time. I was angry at God and felt cheated by life. I took the job in Hart’s Crossing so I could get away from all the memories that lurked around every corner in our hometown. You know how that is.”

“Yes.”

“It’s a wonder God didn’t give up on me.”

He smiled gently, and Terri saw peace in his eyes, a deep kind of peace that came with trusting God. She returned the smile, feeling a kinship with him, a kinship of loss, a kinship of faith.

“I’m glad I came to Hart’s Crossing,” he said, his gaze locked with hers.

Me, too.

After a lengthy silence, Terri lowered her eyes, not wanting Mel to see her jumbled emotions. She wasn’t as relaxed as she’d been minutes before, but she was not relaxed in a good way. In a way she hadn’t experienced in years, in a heart-fluttering, this-can’t-be-happening-to-me sort of way.

It was then she looked at her wristwatch and realized how long they’d been in the diner. “We missed the start of the first movie, didn’t we?”

A crooked smile lifted one corner of his mouth higher than the other. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“I’m not.” The smile slowly faded. His blue gaze was intense.

Terri remembered the feel of his arms around her yesterday. She’d thought the embrace a bit awkward at the time, but now she recalled the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his biceps as he wrapped her close.

 “Mr. Jenkins thinks you’re pretty, Mom.”

Mel’s crooked smile returned, as if he’d read Terri’s thoughts. Heat rose up her neck and flowed into her cheeks once again, and she longed for the darkness of the theater where she could hide her embarrassment.

“Come on.” Mel slid to his feet beside the booth. “I’ll bet we haven’t missed anything but commercials and previews.” He offered his hand.

She reached for it, amazed by how right it felt, her smaller hand enfolded within his larger one—and she completely forgot that Mel Jenkins was expected to become a good friend and nothing more.

Chapter 8

THE TELEPHONE RANG SHORTLY after 8:00 the next morning. Terri knew the time only because she had to open her eyes to find the noisy instrument.

“Hello,” she said, her voice gravelly with sleep.

“You’re not up?” Angie laughed. “Must’ve been a late night.”

Terri closed her eyes again. “Late for me. We got to my place around 11:30.”

“And?”

She smiled. “We had a good time, Miss Nosey.”

“Oh, I knew you would. I just knew it.” In a soft, wheedling tone, Angie asked, “Did he kiss you good night?”

“No, but it was only our first date.” What Terri didn’t tell her friend was that she’d been disappointed when he didn’t
try
to kiss her. She’d thought he might. She’d hoped he would.

“So, what’s on your plate today?”

Terri groaned. “More cleaning up at the salon. I’ve got a contractor coming to look at it on Monday morning so I want to be ready for him. And Lyssa’s got her baseball practice this afternoon. It’s the last one before the opening game.”

“Listen, you take care of business at the shop, and I’ll take Lyssa to her practice and stay until you get there.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Ang.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”