A Secret Identity (20 page)

I blinked.

“Not that I wouldn’t mind having dinner with someone as lovely as you and wearing yellow, no less. But I’m committed for the evening to a woman who wears beige.
Ipso facto
, she must still be inside somewhere.”

I let the screen door swing shut behind me. “Cute,” I said. “Now let’s go buy you an aloha shirt so we can pep up
your
wardrobe too.”

He looked pained. “Over my dead body.”

“I really do want to go shopping,” I told him as we walked to the car. We got in and he began to back out of the drive. “Marnie and Ward are going to be late, so we have some time to kill. Let’s go to Bentley Mart.”

“Okay,” he said. “I could pick up a few things there myself.”

The Lancaster Bentley Mart wasn’t all that far from the farm, but it was a world apart. The road on which the farm was located was quiet and rural, lined with snarls of raspberry canes and honeysuckle or cleared to the edge so there was room for the six-horse or six-mule teams to turn without going on the road. Fields of golden winter wheat stood awaiting harvest and the rows of corn now reached to my thighs. Alfalfa grew almost tall enough for the cutting of the first of three crops grown over the season.

Amish women in bare feet mowed their lawns with push mowers while their children weeded the vegetable patch. Boys pushing scooters ran errands, and a girl who looked remarkably like Esther flew down the road toward us on roller blades. It wasn’t until we were driving passed her that I realized it actually was Esther, a pharmacy bag hanging from one hand. We waved as we passed.

By contrast, Bentley Mart sat on Route 30, just east of Lancaster City, in a sprawling shopping area. Discount stores, entertainment complexes, and motels lined the highway. Traffic was heavy, requiring full concentration to navigate. Tour buses, travel trailers, out-of-state drivers, and locals who actually knew where they were going vied for position. It was a relief to park in the Mart’s vast parking lot, but I was very unhappy to look up at the sign and see that the second E in Bentley was burned out.

“Look at that,” I said to Todd. “Disgusting.”

He glanced at me, amused. “I wouldn’t let it ruin my night,” he said. “If it was a traffic light that was burned out, then we might have a problem.”

“Mmm.”

We went into the store and I was struck by a feeling of clutter. I hate clutter. We always designed the interior layout of Bentley Marts to avoid even the look of congestion. I shuddered. Something wasn’t right here.

When I went to the film department, there was no one to help me.

“I used to work this counter,” I said, irritated. “There’s always supposed to be someone here because of the value of the cameras. It helps prevent shoplifting.”

“You worked here?” Todd asked.

“No, not this store. One in Silver Spring, near home.”

But there was one thing that made me very happy. I found a Choice Books rack, and there were my books
As the Deer
and
So My Soul
.

“At least they’re doing something right,” I said, patting my titles proprietarily.

I moved on, only to realize a few steps down the aisle that Todd wasn’t with me. I turned and saw him reading the cover copy of
As the Deer
. Perhaps his father’s perusal and comments had made him curious. At one point he looked up and frowned at me. I smiled back, especially cheered when he picked up
So My Soul.
He read some more, and then opened to the first page.

I came to stand next to him.

“It says here that you’re a bestseller,” he said, pointing to the words on the cover.

I nodded.

“It says here that you teach writing all over the country.”

I nodded again. “At writers conferences.”

“It says here that this book’s in its tenth printing in less than two years.”

“Twelfth by now,” I said. “Over 100,000 copies sold.”

“You have review comments on the cover that make you sound like the best thing since sliced bread.”

“People have been very nice about these books.”

“They aren’t fluff, are they?”

“No. Did you think they were?”

“You said you wrote romances.” He looked like I had been purposely deceiving him.

“I do. But a romance doesn’t have to be shallow, you know. After all, isn’t love the strongest and most noble of human emotions? An emotion that God feels toward us and the attribute of God that led Him to send Christ for us?”

“Hmmm.” Todd read again for a moment. He looked up. “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God,” he said, quoting Psalm 42, the source of the titles.

“You got it,” I said. “Come on. I want to hit the computer aisle for a minute. I always check out the computer aisle at Bentley’s.”

When we got there, my smile faded. I stood around waiting for someone to help me. Not one person materialized. I knew that when Pop and Ward decided to carry a choice selection of computers, they decided that the only way they could compete with the computer megastores was to offer unparalleled sales help. That’s why I always checked the aisle. I wanted to be certain help was truly available.

Todd stood beside me but paid no attention to me. He was reading chapter one of
As the Deer
.

“Excuse me,” I called to a salesperson walking by two aisles over. “Can you help me?”

“That isn’t my department,” he called back, not slowing his pace.

In an attack of pique, I began typing on a computer. Immediately a Warning: you have performed an illegal act sign lit the screen.

“An illegal act, my foot,” I muttered. “I haven’t had time to do anything illegal yet. Not that I would, of course,” I added piously.

Suddenly Todd began to read aloud.

Marci watched the moon’s light fall across the heaving black waves. The lunar radiance burned a path to her feet, shimmering in the wet sand as each wave receded, the soft luminescence like a highway to God. She put out a foot to step on the light. But as she moved, so did the lambent stream
.

He looked up and studied me like he hadn’t seen me before. I stared back, a slight smile on my lips. He shook his head slowly.

“You’re a surprise every time I see you, Cara Bentley. And this is no exception.” He waved the book in my face.

“Does that mean you’re impressed?” I said.

“Most definitely,” he said. “Most definitely.”

I feared I was vibrating again. I who never vibrate.

“Are you interested in a computer?” The monotone male voice came from just behind me. I jumped and spun to find an older man in a red Bentley Mart shirt staring absently at me.

I nodded yes, and the man did everything in his power to ruin the pleasure I had wrapped about myself like a fleecy blanket at Todd’s comment. He was rude, abrupt, ill-informed, and acted like he was doing a great favor by deigning to speak with me. After he told me for the fifth time that the large number of gigabytes meant a modem of great strength, I walked away.

“Lady, did you ever think about doing a little homework before you come in to make a purchase this size?” he called after me. “Then you’d know what you were doing.”

“That man’s an idiot,” I hissed as I stalked toward the exit. “I can’t stand incompetency!”

“Well, slow down and wait for me,” Todd said. “I have to pay for the book.”

“I’ll give you another, for Pete’s sake,” I groused.

“Nope. I want the next printing to say 100,001.”

I waited for him at the big exit doors. “Thanks,” I said when he walked up with a little bag with
As the Deer
stuffed in it.

He nodded. “My pleasure. Did you know that the moonbeam over the water at your feet is caused when the angle of incidence is equal to the angle of reflection?”

I looked at him. “No, I didn’t know that, Mr. Physics Professor. Did you know that scientific explanations kill the romance of a scene?”

He draped his arm companionably over my shoulder. “No, I didn’t know that. But then I always thought it was the company that made a situation romantic.”

“You have a point there,” I said, my heart turning somersaults.

We met Ward and Marnie in the restaurant lobby and were barely seated before I started telling Ward all about my disastrous visit to the store. I had worked myself up to full Bentley choleric steam when Todd leaned toward Ward.

“She’s a little bent out of shape over an unqualified salesclerk,” he explained with just a touch of condescension. “And some clutter.”

Fat lot you know
, I thought unkindly, giving him a look that would scorch asbestos. He smiled placidly back, which ratcheted my anger up several notches.

“The man called me
lady
like it was the crudest epithet he could come up with,” I snarled.

Todd and Ward exchanged a man-to-man glance that made me want to gnash my teeth. I could almost forgive Todd because he didn’t know what was going on here, but Ward! He was being his usual smarmy self, bless his little heart.

“And what did you say to rile him so?” Ward asked with a smirk that was a very close relative to Todd’s condescending expression.

“I told him gigabytes had nothing to do with modems. And they don’t. Every idiot knows that.”

“And your tone of voice?” Ward asked in an absolutely infuriating one of his own.

I decided I didn’t want to answer that question. I was afraid I didn’t meet the biblical standards of speech seasoned with grace. Then or now.

“Listen, Ward,” I said instead, drumming my fingers. “If you’re running all our stores the way that store is run, we’re going to be out of business in no time. Pop must be rolling over in his grave.”

“All
our
stores?” Todd asked, his condescension turning to shock.

“I’ll check on things tomorrow,” Ward said. “You know that’s not the way we do business, Cara.”

“Cara
Bentley
. Bentley Marts.” Todd looked stunned. “Bentley Marts is
you?
”

“I think you should fire that store’s manager and all the personnel. Send the human resources people and the industrial engineering people up from headquarters to give that store a thorough overhaul. And they need a new
E
in their outside sign.”

“Consider it done,” Ward said, eating his salad.

I nodded. “Good. Thanks.”

“You guys are Bentley Marts?” Todd repeated, still reeling.

“Yes,” I mumbled around a mouthful of greens dashed with raspberry vinaigrette.

“And you never thought to tell me?” His surprise was quickly becoming pique.

“Ward made me promise not to.”

“But I’m your lawyer, for heaven’s sake.” He was definitely out of sorts.

Marnie entered the fray. “My husband is afraid of fortune hunters,” she explained. “He’s certain that Cara will fall in with unscrupulous villains who will take advantage of her and steal her money.”

“Take advantage of Cara?” Todd looked at Marnie in disbelief. “Our Cara?”

I liked the sound of
our Cara
.

“I know,” Marnie said. “But in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, he always thinks of her as his little sister.”

“And he always thinks he knows best,” I explained with a do-you-believe-it sniff. “He always has.”

“I do,” Ward defended. “Going incognito was a good plan. I still say it’s my job to protect you. Who knows what kind of people might suddenly claim to be related to us?”

Todd ate his Caesar salad in silence, the romaine crunching beneath the strength of his wonderful jaws. He frowned in a combination of irritation and deep thought. “How many stores are there?” he finally said. “If I might ask.”

Marnie saw his expression and offered sympathy. “I know how you feel, Todd. When I first realized that Bentley meant
that
Bentley, I was shocked too,” she said. “And if it makes you feel better, Ward didn’t tell me until we’d dated for almost a year.”

“See,” I said, patting Todd’s hand. “Only a week. You’re way ahead of the curve.”

Somehow that comment didn’t calm him as much as I thought it should.

“But don’t let the money bother you,” Marnie said, patting his other hand. “They’re remarkably normal and nice for being filthy rich.”

“There are 45 stores,” I said, answering Todd’s question.

“Soon to be 47,” Ward corrected. “Two more open next month, one in Virginia and one in Rhode Island.”

“Don’t expand too rapidly, Ward,” I cautioned around a sesame seed roll. “You know what that can do to a business. There are always mega-chains going bottoms up. I’d rather you moved a little cautiously until you’re used to things without Pop. You don’t want it to look like you’re trying to prove something to the world now that you have the CEO’s office.”

For the first time Ward looked unhappy with me. “Cara, I say this with love and affection. Butt out.”

“A bit outspoken,” Marnie said to Todd, “and very Type A. But nice.”

“Millionaires?” Todd asked.

Marnie sipped her tea. “Several times over.”

“She tells people she earns her living by writing,” Todd said.