The Prince Charming List (12 page)

I wasn’t sure why I started to tear up. Maybe it was the expression on Greta’s face. Or the gentle fire in Annie’s eyes as she gave Greta the blessing. Maybe it was because I’d heard that verse from Numbers before but it had never touched me the way it did now.

After the girls left, more quietly than they’d come in, I flopped down on the sofa. I couldn’t help comparing what Annie had offered the girls—prayer and a special blessing—to what I’d given them. Makeup tips and a hairstyle that wouldn’t survive the night.

Her words came back to me. Gifted. Chosen.

But for what, Lord?

W
hen I ran down to Sally’s on Friday morning, Amanda was behind the counter. Strangely enough, the place was almost deserted. The television was off and classical music drifted from the radio near the cash register.

“Hi, Heather.” Amanda surprised me by leaning across the counter and giving me a one-armed hug. “I’m glad you came in. I wanted to thank you for telling Sally I was looking for a job.”

The two men who were sitting a few stools down stopped talking and stared at me. I smiled. They didn’t smile back.

“How is it going?” I asked the question even though I had a hunch what the answer was going to be. Amanda looked better than she had the day she’d come into the Cut and Curl. She was wearing a white polo with the café’s logo on it, a pair of checkered capris and snazzy orange canvas slip-ons. And she’d created a headband out of a yellow scarf. The biggest difference, though, was in her smile.

“Couldn’t be better.” Amanda looked at the men. “More coffee, Stan? Bean?”

Stan shook his head and wrapped one hand protectively around his cup. The other man, Bean, glowered at me and didn’t respond. I noticed right away they weren’t drinking coffee out of the generic white coffee cups that filled the open cupboard behind the counter.

“Those look like the cups Marissa makes.”

“They are. Sally and I ordered them especially for the café. It’s actually like getting a cup and a half right from the get-go.”

“And she raised the price, too,” Stan muttered.

Amanda ignored him. “Would you like to try a cup? Today we have double mocha mint truffle.”

“Sounds like a box of Valentine candy,” Bean said to no one in particular. “And where’s the newspaper?”

“I brought in some magazines—they’re in that wicker basket right over there.” Amanda pointed to a white basket the size of a laundry basket on the floor at the end of the counter. “And some books, too. Classics.
Moby Dick. Treasure Island. The Call of the Wild.
”

Uh-oh.

I slanted a look at Stan, who was still scowling into his cup. There’d been some changes since Amanda started working at the café. I hoped they didn’t have anything to do with the empty booths this time of the morning.

“Um, where’s Sally, by the way?”

“She had a doctor’s appointment this morning,” Amanda said, grabbing a towel and wiping down the spotless countertop. “Her hip is still bothering her.”

“Maybe
she’ll
turn on the TV,” Bean butted in, tempting me to remind him not to skip his daily dose of fiber.

“Music gives the café more of an atmosphere, doesn’t it?” Amanda closed her eyes, her shoulders swaying in harmony with the soft instrumental music wafting from the radio.

Stan looked like he was about to voice his opinion on that so I jumped in. “The coffee smells great. I’ll take one to go. And a raspberry Danish if you have one left.”

I made a point of closing my eyes and sniffing appreciatively as Amanda filled a foam cup.
Expand that palate, Bean!

“We don’t have Danish anymore. We’re serving biscotti now. White chocolate apricot or pistachio.”

Bean echoed Stan’s grunt.

“I’ll take the pistachio.” Biscotti, classical music and handmade coffee mugs. Was this my fault? I glanced at Bean and Stan, who were watching me with suspicion. Apparently they thought so.

Mayor Lane was waiting outside the Cut and Curl when I bounded up to the door. Two minutes late for duty. I had to admit Candy was intimidating. She ran both Prichett and the feed store on the edge of town but wore one uniform for both duties—a pair of overalls over a faded T-shirt, hiking boots and a dusty baseball cap.

“Good morning!” Was I supposed to call her Candy? Ms. Lane? Ms. Mayor?

“Is it?” One eyebrow rose, disappearing under the brim of her cap.

This had to be a trick question. I could already tell the day was going to be one of those perfect summer days—sunny and warm with a light, fragrant breeze.

“Do you want to make an appointment?”

She followed me into the salon. “I want a decent cup of coffee. Something that doesn’t taste like the candle in my bathroom smells.”

“Help yourself. I just made it.” If a person is accountable for what they know, I was going to pretend I didn’t know anything. Technically, I wasn’t responsible for the changes at Sally’s. I’d only told Sally that Amanda was looking for a job.
I’m innocent, I tell you. Innocent!

The frown that had plowed three little rows between Candy’s eyebrows didn’t disappear until her third swallow of coffee. “There’s a PAC meeting the first week of July. Tuesday night. Seven o’clock.”

“Oh.” I nodded politely even though this had nothing to do with me. The Prichett Advancement Council was the committee that had hired Jared. Bernice had been the vice president for ten years and she’d confided in me that she was hoping to be demoted to treasurer. The town’s entire budget was so small she figured it would be easier to manage than her checking account.

“So, we’ll see you there.” Candy poured herself another cup of coffee and sauntered toward the door.

“Me?” I squeaked the word. Bernice hadn’t said a word about attending the PAC meetings while she was gone.

“With Bernice gone, we’re an opinion short and it seems to me like you’re pretty interested in what’s going on in town.” She gave me a wicked smile. “Enjoy your biscotti.”

The day went from bad to worse. The phone rang so many times I started to let the answering machine pick up the calls. By three o’clock, my perfect summer sky was being infiltrated by puffs of harmless-looking gray clouds. By four o’clock, they’d taken over and called for reinforcements. When I turned the key in the door to close up for the day, the sky opened up and canceled my canoe trip with Jared.

No, no, no.

On cue, my cell phone rang.

“Did you order this?” Jared didn’t sound as disappointed as I felt.
Why not?

“I thought the creek looked a little low the last time we were there.” My measly attempt at humor to prove I was the kind of girl who didn’t get upset by life’s unexpected curve balls.

“Where are you?”

“Standing under the awning of the Cut and Curl.” Which leaked. I dodged another miniature waterfall that cascaded through a weak seam in the canvas above my head.

“I guess we’ll have to take a
rain check.
” He laughed at his own joke. Which might have been funny if I was in the mood for one. I scowled up at the clouds and a raindrop made a direct hit in the center of my forehead.

“I guess so.” But hey, my middle name is
flexible
. Dinner? A movie at the theater in Munroe? I’d even try bowling.

“I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Sure.” What was happening? When was
later?
What did that mean in guy-speak? Later tonight? Tomorrow? Never? The guy who couldn’t wait to schedule his next date with me was suddenly leaving me with an open-ended weekend.

Fortunately, when guys disappointed you, there were best friends. I immediately dialed Bree’s number, figuring the rain had messed up her schedule, too.

“This is a summer shower,” Bree said when I told her about the canceled canoe trip down Marley Creek. “Look at how thin the clouds are on the horizon. This will blow over in an hour or two. Come over and we’ll go riding or watch a movie.” I could tell by her tone that Jared had been temporarily relegated to wimp status. Maybe I needed to remind her that he drove a motorcycle.

“Give me an hour so I can clean up and change my clothes. I smell like a coconut.”

“Okay, but don’t eat dinner. Mom’s making lasagna and I know she’ll want to wait for you.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I bravely faced the downpour and darted into the alley behind the salon, taking the stairs two at a time to the landing. It didn’t matter. By the time I got there, my hair was plastered to my head and my Tommy Hilfiger polo was soaked. I lunged toward the door. Only I couldn’t get to it. There was a grid of yellow police tape stretched from railing to railing, warning me
not to cross the line.

My first instinct was to panic. Maybe Dex had committed a crime other than falling asleep on the job. Maybe he’d discovered a skeleton buried in the wall…I put the brakes on my runaway imagination. There were no sirens. No police cars. No detectives waiting to interrogate me. There was only Dex. Somewhere. Hopefully close by so I could get into my apartment. And maybe yell at him.

“Dex? Are you in there?”

“I’m down here.”

I twisted around and saw him standing at the bottom of the stairs. Looking worse than I did. “What’s going on?”

“You can’t go in there. At least, not without some kind of protective breathing apparatus.”

First the rain had drowned out my canoe trip, now Dex was trying to sabotage the rest of the evening. “
What
are you talking about? Did you put this tape here?”

“Yes—”

“That’s all I need to know.” I started pulling the tape down. “Even though you work part-time practically everywhere in this town, I happen to know a person needs special training to be a cop. Which you don’t have. Which means this isn’t official police tape and I don’t have to pay attention to it.”

He vaulted up the stairs and tried to restick a piece of the tape to the railing. “There’s been an…incident.”

Visions of faucetless bathtubs danced in my head. “What did you do?”

“The varnish I used to strip the hardwood floor was pretty strong.” He glanced at the door in a way that made me very nervous.

“Dex, do I still have a floor to walk on?”

“Of course you have a floor. It’s strong
smelling
.” He sounded irritable, like I should know this. Excuse me, but I wasn’t about to assume anything when it came to Dex’s skills as a handyman. Maybe it was time to have a talk with Alex about delaying the remodeling. Until September.

“I think I’ll be fine. Some days I’m practically marinated in perm solution, you know.” He had to be overreacting. I turned the doorknob and opened the door a crack. Then slammed it shut again. There was breathing in perm solution and then there was being dropped into a vat of chemicals that had the potential to rearrange the DNA of any children I might have in the future.

“Where’s Snap?” I gasped.

“I dropped her off with Aunt Jeanne a little while ago. Mr. Bender at the hardware store told me the fumes should dissipate in forty-eight hours.”

Forty-eight hours. That was the entire weekend. I was soaking wet and now I didn’t have an apartment to seek refuge in. And the person I could blame for a third of this fiasco happened to be standing right in front of me.

A stationary target.

No, an opportunity for grace.

I hated it when Grandma Lowell barged into my thoughts like that. My emotions were jerked back and forth like a chew toy being claimed by two German shepherds.
Target. Grace. Target. Grace.
Dex had relocated my cat without my permission, turned me into a homeless person and still hadn’t apologized. Didn’t this give me the right to let him know what I thought about the situation?

Probably. But I took a deep breath and chose grace. Only because Grandma Lowell was patiently tapping her foot, waiting for me to make the right decision. Rats. “You’re okay, aren’t you?”

Dex just stared at me. Maybe the fumes had melted his brain cells. There was a drop of rain suspended on the end of his nose and I tried not to smile. He reminded me of a soggy puppy. Which brought out my inner animal shelter volunteer.

“Do you feel dizzy? Do you have a headache?” I stepped closer and tried to see if his pupils were dilated but his rain-spotted glasses obscured my view. Without thinking, I plucked them off and he cringed like I’d just stripped him of his superpowers. “Take it easy and let me see those baby…”
Blues
.

Wow. They
were
blue. Not a stunning tropical-beach-blue like Jared’s but a soft, comfortable-pair-of-blue-jeans blue.

“Just a sec.” I took a deep breath, held it and darted into the apartment. I came back with one of Bernice’s fluffy towels and draped it around his shoulders, using one of the corners to wipe off his glasses. He hadn’t moved. The dazed look on his face had me worried.

“Dex?” I prompted. How could a girl find out if someone’s brain had been adversely affected by harmful vapors when she wasn’t sure if
the someone
had a firm grasp on reality to begin with?

“What day of the week is it?”

“Friday.”

“Month?”

“June.”

“President of the United States?”

“Harrison Ford.”

I decided he was fine. Two out of three wasn’t bad. And
Air Force One was
destined to become a classic. “Bree Penny is expecting me to come over anyway tonight, so I’ll hold my breath long enough to throw some things in an overnight bag and go over there.”