Paper Hearts (7 page)

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Authors: Courtney Walsh

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“Did he find someone else?” she’d asked.

Abigail shook her head.

“So it wasn’t that he was in love with someone else? He just wasn’t in love with you.” Teensy’s words still needled her to this day.

As if the shock of her broken heart weren’t enough, Abigail had disappointed her mother
 
—again. At some point she’d convinced herself she’d never live up to Teensy’s standards and she’d stopped trying.

Sort of.

Now, with Ursula staring at her, that same disappointed look on her face, she realized maybe there was a part of her that would always want to make her mother proud.

“I’m sorry, Ursula. I just don’t see that I have any options.”

“You know what else Frankie told me?” Ursula stared at her as if waiting for a response.

Abigail slowly shook her head.

“No one really knows what they’re doing. But as long as they’re doing something, they’re getting somewhere. And that’s a whole lot better than sitting around.”

Abigail fought the urge to dart out of the room. She hadn’t been sitting around
 
—these weren’t self-inflicted troubles.

“Get out of the box,” Ursula said. “Who do you know that might be able to help you?”

Abigail scanned her mental database, running through names of customers and city officials. Despite the fact that her great-great-grandparents had founded the town, she didn’t really have any more pull than anyone else. She’d settled into her place as part of Loves Park’s middle class quite nicely. She didn’t need much in her simple life
 
—even if what she wanted was a different story. When she came up empty, she shrugged.

Ursula practically shrieked. “Me! You should’ve come to me the second Harriet decided to retire.” Ursula folded her arms over her chest, covering the long, beaded necklaces she wore around her neck.

Abigail frowned, resisting the urge to point out that other than taking her coffee order, this was the first real conversation she’d ever had with the woman. “What good would that have done?”

“I’m rich! Don’t you know that with enough money, you can buy anything?” She flung her hands up over her head.

Abigail knew her expression matched the way she felt
 
—confused.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Ursula said.

Abigail turned away.

“Look at me.”

“I’m sorry I’m
 
—”

“You’re a little girl. And it’s time to be a woman.”

Abigail chose silence.

“Ursula, maybe
 
—” Evelyn began.

But the old woman’s hiss of a shush ended Evelyn’s thought before she could finish.

“So ask me.”

Another quick glance at the others, none of whom offered even a hint that they knew what she should do.

“Ask you . . . ?”

Ursula let out an annoyed sigh. “Ask me to buy the building.”

“I don’t think you understand, Mrs. Pembrooke. The doctor bought the building.”

“I don’t think
you
understand, Miss Pressman. I will buy it back.”

In her mind, Abigail replayed the events that had brought her here tonight in the first place. If only she hadn’t spilled that coffee and felt the need to confess at this meeting, she’d be safe in her house, sanding and painting that beautiful armoire she’d picked up last weekend at the flea market. Instead she was here, serving as a human punching bag for someone she now realized was one of the toughest women in Loves Park.

Gigi finally came to her aid. “Forgive me, Ursula, but how does that help dear Abigail?”

“She can buy it from me.” Ursula turned to Abigail. “I would’ve cosigned your loan application, but you never bothered to ask.” She walked away, grabbed another cookie, and shoved the whole thing in her mouth.

Gigi met Abigail’s gaze with raised brows. “That could work, right?”

“You haven’t talked to this man or his
 
—” she searched for the word
 
—“his Kelly. Oh, he seems kind and charming, with his ridiculous good looks and those cheekbones, but I’m not buying it. Not for a second.” Abigail turned to find them all staring at her with accusing eyes.

“Good looks?” Doris’s eyes widened.

“Cheekbones?” Tess practically exhaled the word.

Abigail faced Ursula, who’d returned to the armchair and now sat like a queen on a throne. “He won’t sell it to you,” she informed the older woman.

“How good-looking?” Gigi’s brows were still raised.

Ursula shook her head. “Fight or die, Miss Pressman. Fight or die.”

CHAPTER
9

G
IGI OPENED THE DOOR
for Abigail, who looked even more horrified than when she’d come in. Returning to the living room after saying good-bye to the young woman, Gigi shook her head at Ursula, who nibbled a crunchy cookie Tess had brought. Gigi made a mental note not to allow Tess to supply refreshments for these meetings anymore.

“You can come out, Teensy,” she called toward the bedroom.

Teensy Pressman emerged, wearing a pair of black dress slacks and a sparkly sweater. Her hairdo always reminded Gigi of a newscaster’s, and her makeup looked professionally done. No wonder it bothered her so much that her daughter hadn’t married yet
 
—appearances were everything in Teensy’s world.

In fact, when her husband left her, Teensy made a point of going to the grocery store in her Sunday clothes just to prove to everyone she was fine. Gigi knew better, of course. They all knew
better. Teensy’s light went off that day, and she hadn’t been the same since.

Her husband’s desertion had made a lifetime of difference to Teensy and, it would seem, to at least one of her children.

“I thought she’d never leave,” Abigail’s mother said.

“It’s a good thing you drove over with Doris, or she would’ve seen your car,” Tess said, crunching one of her tooth-breaking cookies.

Teensy took Abigail’s spot on the sofa and clapped her hands in front of her. “This is wonderful news, don’t you think?”

They all stared at Teensy, confusion on every face.

“Don’t you see? She’ll finally be rid of that dreadful business. It’ll force her to start evaluating other aspects of her life.” Teensy reached toward the tray of cookies and caught Gigi’s eye. The slight shake of her head was enough to communicate that it wasn’t a good idea, and Teensy retreated.

Tess frowned and started to speak, but Gigi jumped in before she could say anything. “I don’t think you understand how much that business means to her, Teensy.”

Teensy waved her perfectly manicured red fingers in the air. “She doesn’t know what she wants. She’s just a child.”

Ursula leaned forward in her chair. Gigi knew that look. It was the put-her-in-her-place look, and it wouldn’t go over well. These two women had butted heads before, and Gigi still hadn’t decided which one was more stubborn.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Teensy,” Ursula said. “She is not a child, and that store is all she has.”

Teensy turned to Ursula. “Exactly my point. She needs to branch out and see what else is out there. She needs to get married. Start a family. It’s what she’s always wanted.”

Doris’s head began moving back and forth, as if the woman were having a conversation in her head. “I don’t think that’s true, Teensy. I think she wants her store to succeed.”

Teensy’s lips drew into a tight line. “I didn’t ask you all to evaluate my daughter. I asked you to find her a husband. I came to you because I mistakenly thought you were the best.” She gave Gigi a pointed look. “But maybe you’ve lost your touch.”

“Teensy, evaluating Abigail is part of the process,” Gigi said. “Girls?”

Ursula pulled the manila folder from her purse and Tess retrieved the large bulletin board from the other room. They’d barely stashed the evidence away when Abigail arrived.

“Your daughter will be one of our toughest cases yet,” Gigi said.

“Is she that unlovable?” Teensy opened the folder.

“Not at all. Just that wounded.” Gigi reached across the table, opened the folder, and flipped to a photo of Abigail and her former boyfriend
 
—a Loves Park native named Jeremy who had dumped her and married Lynn St. James after dating her for only two months. To add insult to injury, the young couple wasted no time starting a family and had since produced three blond babies.

Teensy turned another photo over and gasped. “Where’d you get this?” She picked up the faded square photo of Abigail and her father.

“Oh, I found that in the church archives,” Doris said. “We evaluate every aspect of a subject’s life, Teensy.”

“This isn’t relevant.” She tore the photo in half. “
He
isn’t relevant.”

A notable stillness passed through the room. Gigi knew Teensy still held a grudge, but she hadn’t realized how big it was.

“You want to know why your daughter is still single, don’t you?” Ursula’s usually gruff voice sounded almost kind.

Teensy’s eyes filled with tears. “
He
is not the reason Abigail hasn’t found a husband.”

“No, Teensy,” Gigi replied quietly. “You are.”

Teensy’s face flashed anger. “Gigi Monroe, how dare you?”

Gigi had a long history with Abigail’s mother. She knew the woman was difficult the day Teensy quit the Volunteers. It was only a week after her husband walked out, and she’d given a ludicrous excuse about having too many other commitments.

And now her anger had turned her into an obsessed mother who’d practically driven her daughter away from the one thing Teensy most wanted for her.

“I’m not trying to be unkind,” Gigi said. “But maybe it’s time to move on.”

Teensy’s jaw locked in defiance. “We’re not talking about me, Gigi.”

Gigi could see it was pointless to try to convince the other woman that she needed to let go of a grudge that was so many years old. “You did hire us. Stop signing her up for those terrible dating sites and let us do our job.”

Flustered, Teensy picked up her purse and hugged it to her chest. “I did not come here to be insulted.”

“We’re not insulting you, Teensy, just asking you to give us space to do what we do,” Gigi said. “For Abigail.”

Teensy pressed her lips together and fidgeted for several long seconds. Finally she stood. “Fine. I’ll leave you. But I’m telling you one last time
 
—” she directed this at Ursula
 
—“saving the store is not your priority. Saving my daughter is.”

Evelyn
 
—saint that she was
 
—volunteered to drive Teensy home. Once they’d gone, the others sat in silence for a few long moments before resuming their conversation about Abigail Pressman, great-great-granddaughter of Loves Park’s founders and the least likely to get married.

“This poor girl,” Gigi said, examining Abigail’s photo.

“Let’s discuss what she has going for her,” Doris said. “I always like when we compare and contrast. Makes me feel like a judge on one of those competition reality shows.”

Ursula rolled her eyes. “You’re no Heidi Klum, Doris.”

Doris scowled.

Gigi stuck Abigail’s photo on the bulletin board and took a step back. “She’s quite pretty, in a sweet way.”

“She does have wonderful hair,” Tess said. “And she’s a little quirky but always looks very put together.”

“She has a good heart,” Doris said. “And she knows every single one of her customers by name.”

“She’s weak,” Ursula said.

“We’re doing the pros, Ursula. Say something nice.” Doris sipped her drink and stared at the other woman, waiting.

Ursula said nothing.

“She’s quite smart,” Tess offered, a fact no one could argue. “But she doesn’t think she wants to get married.”

“Because she wants to be a successful businesswoman.” Ursula’s tone was like an audible eye roll.

Gigi squared off with her old friend. “Ursula, she
is
a successful businesswoman. Not everyone does business like they’re part of the Mafia.”

Ursula stared at her. “I resent that, Gigi.”

“You know what I mean. Just because she’s different doesn’t mean she’s not successful. This girl has a lot going for her, but I don’t know anyone offhand who would be a good match for her.”

Gigi had combed through their files of eligible bachelors and come up empty.

“She said the doctor was handsome,” Ursula said.

Doris gasped. “The evil doctor who is trying to take over her building?”

“He’s not evil,” Tess said. “And he is quite handsome. I saw him the other day.”

“I don’t think he is right for Abigail,” Gigi said matter-of-factly.

Ursula frowned. “Let’s find out.”

Gigi turned to her. She’d known Ursula since they were kids, and she knew there was little she could do to sway the old bat once
her mind was made up. But in this case, for Abigail’s sake, she had to try. “That is a very bad idea.”

“He’s handsome. Successful. And if he is a good match, he’ll never kick her out of that building. Isn’t that the goal here?” Ursula leaned back in the chair with a pleased look on her face.

“I thought the goal was to find her a husband,” Tess said, wide-eyed.

“Exactly.”

Ursula shrugged. “Two birds.”

“Didn’t Abigail say he has a girlfriend?” Evelyn asked.

“A businesswoman girlfriend who didn’t sound very nice.” Tess pulled her legs underneath her and cozied up in the chair.

“What’s your point?” Ursula tossed another cookie in her mouth. “Girlfriends are not wives. Let me snoop around. I’ll make an offer on the building. I should’ve bought it a long time ago anyway. Prime real estate. It’s like a gold mine.”

“And when he refuses your offer?”

The old woman smirked. “He won’t refuse it. Everyone has a price, girls. Besides, it’ll be just the excuse I need to find out some things about this doctor. Once he’s not her landlord anymore, you’ll see he’s the perfect match.”

Gigi sighed. “I’m not going to convince you this is a terrible idea, am I?”

Ursula stared her response.

“We need to be careful with Abigail. She’s fragile.”

“She does seem rather breakable, doesn’t she?” Doris had taken on a maternal tone. “Perhaps trying to match her with her worst enemy isn’t a good idea, Ursula.”

“I do have a nephew,” Ursula said, though her statement seemed to be less a response to Doris and more a side note in whatever conversation she was having with herself.

“We all have nephews,” Gigi said. “But are any of them a good fit for Abigail?” She pulled the younger woman’s photo off the
bulletin board. “This isn’t the kind of girl we can just throw out in the field. Her next date has to be the right date, or she’ll bolt.” Abigail had no reason to want to fall in love at all. Between her parents’ failed marriage
 
—something her mother clearly hadn’t gotten over
 
—and her own heartbreak with Jeremy, it was no wonder the girl was still single.

“No.” Ursula stood in front of Abigail’s photo, studying it like she was planning a hit. “My nephew Duncan will be just what Abigail needs.”

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