Last Chance Knit & Stitch (32 page)

“And,” Coach continued, prodding Simon’s chest, “my daughter belongs to Les Hayes, not you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And God only knows what Miriam Randall and the rest of the gals are going to have to do to fix this mess you’ve made. Do you know that Les is sleeping with Ricki? Ricki, a woman who’s way past her prime, if you ask me.”

Simon was not stupid enough to try to explain to Coach that Molly was not interested in Les. He’d already said too much.

Coach pushed his finger into Simon’s chest again. “I want you out of this town as soon as possible. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And don’t you ever come back.”

Well, that was nothing new. Hadn’t Daddy said the same thing to him once? Hadn’t Daddy even poked his finger into his chest just like Coach was doing now? And hadn’t Momma told him he was dead to her?

There was no one in Last Chance who wanted him to stay. And for some inexplicable reason that ripped him apart. But he’d be damned if he let Coach know it. So he shut his feelings down deep and locked them in that place where he’d kept the memories of Luke and Gabe and every other hurt that had ever assailed him.

“I’m leaving on Wednesday. I won’t be back.”

Zeph took a break from refinishing the woodwork in the lobby of The Kismet movie theater. The restoration was nearly complete. Only the old candy counter remained to be finished.

Pride expanded in his chest. He knew it was a danger to feel this way, but a man couldn’t help it sometimes. A man knew when he’d done his finest work. And it was a comfort to Zeph that folks would be coming from all over to see how he’d brought the lobby back to life.

He grabbed his lunch box and a bottle of orange Nehi from his cooler and headed down the street to the little park in front of City Hall. The day was already getting hot
and humid, but there were some big shade trees there, and the ghost liked to sit and watch folks as they went about their business.

It wasn’t all that long before Les Hayes came by with Muffin on a leash. The man and the dog were alternately dragging each other in opposite directions. The man had a book in his hand and was trying simultaneously to manage the dog, book, and leash.

The scenario riled up the ghost something fierce.

Muffin took one look at Zeph and started dragging Les in Zeph’s direction. Les finally gave up trying to exert any control over the dog and allowed the little critter to walk him right up to the park bench where Zeph was sitting.

“Hey, Zeph,” Les said as he collapsed on the bench beside him. His face was red, and sweat trickled down his neck.

Meanwhile, Muffin sat down at Zeph’s feet like the obedient dog she usually was.

“So what are you reading?” Zeph asked.

Les showed him the book. “
Short Guide to a Happy Dog
.”

“Ah.” Zeph refrained from pointing out that Muffin didn’t look all that happy.

“How do you get Muffin to sit down and behave like that?” Les asked. “I mean, I used to get Rex to behave, but Muffin won’t do squat for me. I need help.”

The ghost was more than agitated, and Zeph wished there was a guide on how to make a ghost happy. Usually finding good homes for strays was all it took.

“Well, you just love ’em and take care of ’em. That usually works,” Zeph said.

“I’m trying. But the dog hates me. And it’s worse than
that, really. My future happiness depends on me and Muffin making friends.”

“Really?” This was news.

“Yeah. Ricki has made it clear that it’s me or the dog.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “And Muffin is jealous. To be honest, I think that feeling goes both ways.” He gazed down at the dog with a sympathetic look. Muffin looked at Les and bared her sharp little fangs.

Something was wrong. Usually when the ghost decided on where a stray should go, the fit was perfect—in every way. In fact, there were a lot of times when a new pet meant a new relationship.

Take Annie and Matt Jasper. Or Dash and Savannah’s new family.

No wonder the ghost was so upset.

“I told Ricki I’d take Muffin for a walk every noontime,” Les said. “And I think she appreciates my offer, but I’m worried. What do I do if the dog never accepts me? I don’t want to lose Ricki over something stupid like a dog.”

“I don’t blame you.” There wasn’t much Zeph could do about this situation. Maybe Les looked or smelled like the idiot who had abandoned Muffin in the swamp. Maybe she’d been abused by a big white man like Les. Who knew? But Zeph didn’t have a good feeling that Muffin would ever settle down and tolerate Les, even though Les was basically a good guy. Heck, he remembered how sad Les was when Rex finally died of old age. There had been a time when Rex and Les were inseparable. So it wasn’t that Les didn’t know about dogs.

“Maybe I can find a better home for her,” Zeph said.

“I suggested that maybe we should give her to Angel, Simon Wolfe’s assistant, but Ricki is determined to keep
her. I don’t know why. Any fool can see that the dog is happier with Angel than anyone else.”

The ghost made it clear that he agreed with Les. And that meant either Zeph or the ghost had made a huge mistake when they’d given that dog to Ricki.

How on earth was he going to fix this mistake without telling Ricki or maybe the whole town about the ghost?

If he did that, people would think he was crazy.

Maybe he was. But he wasn’t the only crazy person in Last Chance.

“Holy f—” Les pulled back his hand just as blood came oozing out of his index finger. He let go of a long and truly amazing string of profanity. And Muffin, the object and instigator of Les’s fury, started to shake. Then she squatted right there on the living room rug and started to pee.

“Don’t do that!” he shouted at the dog and then nudged her with his foot. She clamped down on his pant leg and started growling.

He shook his foot, knocking Muffin around as the dog continued to worry the cuff of his jeans.

“Stop it right this minute,” Ricki shouted from her place on the living room couch where she and Les had been cuddling and watching reruns of
Dukes of Hazzard
on the TV. “Les, I mean it, you’re going to hurt her.”

“Hurt her? She just bit me,” he raged, finally extricating the dog from his jeans. He scooted into the kitchen like a coward and closed the door behind him. “I sure hope she’s current on her shots,” he yelled through the door.

“Of course she is. Would you bring some paper towels out here so I can sop up the pee?”

Muffin came over to stand in front of Ricki. She was trembling all over, and she had the most adorable waif-like expression on her face. Ricki knew she should probably punish her for making a puddle on the carpet, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do that. The dog was so obviously scared and upset.

So she picked Muffin up and cuddled her. The dog settled into her arms like she belonged there. Ricki never failed to feel a big tug on her heart whenever the dog came into her arms. It was a lot like the tug she got when Les held her hand or kissed her senseless.

Why couldn’t the two of them be friends?

A moment later Les stormed out of the kitchen with one hand wrapped in bloody paper towels and the other carrying the rest of the roll. He tore off a bunch of sheets and dropped them to the damp spot on the carpet. He stepped on them to soak up the pee.

He was so good about doing things like that. He was a real keeper.

But so was Muffin.

When he’d disposed of the paper towels and treated his finger with a Band-Aid, he returned to the living room and glared down at Muffin. He was angry.

“You’re cuddling her?” Les said, his voice low and dangerous.

“She’s scared. That’s all. She’s terrified of you. Have you hit her or yelled at her like that before? Are you mean to her when you walk her?”

“She bit me. I yelled. And no, I’m not mean to her. I’ve been trying to discipline her.”

“I know she bit you, but she didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, yes she did. She hates me.”

“She does not. She’s just scared of you, is all. Maybe if you were sweeter to her.”

“Maybe if you didn’t treat her like a toy instead of a dog.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she’s a dog, not your baby. She needs discipline.”

“She needs kindness. And if you can’t see that, then maybe you should just leave.” Ricki’s voice started shaking, sort of like the way Muffin’s whole body was trembling.

And that’s when Muffin jumped down from the couch and started growling at Les again.

“I give up. It’s me or the dog.” He turned on his heel and headed out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Muffin barked at him. And then she pranced back toward Ricki with a definite look of superiority on her face.

Ricki’s throat thickened as she stared down at the triumphant dog. She didn’t want to think that Les was some kind of mean person, but maybe she’d misjudged him. She was looking for a good, solid, kind man. Sort of like Clay Rhodes.

And Muffin liked Clay just fine.

So why didn’t she like Les? There had to be a reason. Or maybe this was just a sign that Les was the same kind of no-account loser that Randy had been.

Animals were often smarter than humans when it came to judging character.

O
n Tuesday afternoon, six days after her return, Momma stood in the Knit & Stitch cutting slices from the big sheet cake she’d baked with the words “Bon Voyage Charlotte” scrawled across the top in blue icing.

She handed a slice of cake to Jane Rhodes, who was one of several Knit & Stitch customers who’d shown up for this week’s Purly Girl meeting, even though they weren’t officially members of the knitting club.

Everyone was dying to get the straight skinny on the state of Momma’s marriage. Not to mention the fact that the knitters of Last Chance had all volunteered to knit Chemo Caps. And everyone wanted to say good-bye to Miz Charlotte.

Molly was really glad Jane had come. She’d brought little Pete with her, and the baby was getting fat and adorable. He wasn’t nearly so wobbly as he’d been the first time Molly held him. And this time, instead of immediately going to sleep, he’d given her a couple of big smiles. His eyes were changing color from dark blue to brown.
And he was starting to look a lot like Jane. Molly had given up her knitting to hold him. And Jane didn’t seem to mind one bit.

“I have never been to California,” Momma said as she sliced another piece of cake. “I hear it’s very scenic, especially the northern part.”

Charlotte didn’t look up at Momma. She was completely focused on her knitting. “I don’t want to visit California,” she said. “I want to stay home.”

“You do?” Momma said. “But there’s a whole world out there just waiting for you. You’ll see new things. I always wanted to get me one of those Airstream trailers and drive across the country and see the sights.”

“I don’t want to see any sights.” Charlotte dropped her knitting and folded her arms across her chest. She looked more than sad; she looked a little scared.

“That Simon should be shot,” Lola May whispered in Molly’s ear. “The poor thing is being torn away from everything she knows and loves.”

Molly wanted to come to Simon’s defense, but it would have done nothing to help Simon’s reputation. Everyone, except maybe Momma and Coach, was angry at him for taking Charlotte away from her friends and family. Momma and Coach were both kind of happy that he was leaving. Which was a depressing thought.

How could they both dislike him so much when he’d been the one to help bring her family back together? It made no sense.

Molly was solidly with the camp who thought he should stay. But that was a childish wish. Simon had been utterly honest with everyone. Even her. He had never intended to stay.

“Miriam, I have a question,” Ricki said into the sudden lull in the conversation.

Miriam looked up from the knitting magazine she was perusing. Her big black eyes twinkled behind her upturned glasses. “Sure, honey, what is it?”

“Do you think dogs can match people up the way you do?”

“Well, sugar, I never thought about it, to tell you the truth. I mean when God has a plan, it usually works out in the end. And I figure dogs are close to God.”

The look on Ricki’s face was heartbreaking. “Oh.”

“Honey,” Miriam continued in a soothing tone, “the thing is, people are the ones who mess up when it comes to the Lord’s plan. Not usually dogs.”

The look on Ricki’s face grew positively grim, and she gave Molly a little worried glance.

“Ricki,” Molly said. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not interested in Les. I’ve told you this a dozen times.”

Ricki’s eyes grew round. “But everyone is saying that Miz Miriam—”

“You have to stop listening to everyone. You have to decide for yourself.”

“But Muffin …”

“Ricki, get a grip,” Miriam said. “I didn’t ever say anything about Molly and Les. I’ve been quite plain about that to everyone. But do people listen? No, they don’t. They get a notion in their heads and they run off like silly chickens.”

“You didn’t?” Molly was surprised. “But I was told you thought I was going to marry someone I’ve known forever.”

“I never said any such thing. Savannah may have said
it. And I know it’s confusing, but that’s mostly Savannah’s fault. I reckon she’s kind of new at the whole match-finding thing.”

“Wait, wait,” Momma said. “Savannah is doing matchmaking now?”

“Well,” Miriam sniffed, “she’s got the sight, you know. And I’m teaching her. But the whole thing with Molly and Les was her doing.”

“Thank you Miz Miriam,” Molly said with a grin. She turned to Ricki. “See, there is no prior claim on Les. You can have him. And as for me, well, I. Am. Not. Getting. Married.”

“Oh but you will … eventually. You may have to wait awhile,” Miriam said with a smile. “And you’re going to make a terrific mother.”

Simon and Angel had packed up the canvases and stowed them in a U-Haul. They’d filled dozens of boxes. They’d taken a ton of crap to the Salvation Army. Everything was ready for their departure early tomorrow morning.

It was time to tell Molly good-bye.