The Prince Charming List (13 page)

While I waited for the apology that should be ready for processing, Dex turned and jogged down the stairs. Was I the only one willing to take the high road here?

“You can keep the towel,” I called down to him.

He yanked it off his shoulders and I giggled when I saw his expression. There was a four-foot-tall penguin wearing a polka-dot bikini printed on it. Which seemed to spark some brain activity. Which should be followed by an
I’m really sorry, Heather. I’m going to call Alex and tell him I’m just not cut out for this line of work….

“I’ll take care of the cat.”

There was no way I was leaving Snap with him for forty-eight hours. Not when I had a front-row seat to see the way Ian Dexter took care of things.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes to get her. Bree loves cats.”

He gave me a
whatever
shrug and jackknifed his soggy body into his waiting Impala.

Hold on, Snap. I’m coming to rescue you.

I kept my cell phone in my pocket on vibrate all evening—just in case—but Jared never called me back. I tried not to dwell on the list of reasons why. Reasons that
if
I chose to dwell on them would be that a) he’d let our date—the one he’d seemed to be looking forward to—slip by without rescheduling it for another time because he really
hadn’t
been looking forward to it and b) every single twenty-something in Prichett thought he was the most attractive item in Marissa’s shop and he was keeping his options open. Which was linked to reason c), definitely the worst one. He’d found someone who wasn’t skittish about his stupid couch.

Fortunately—because of Elise—I barely noticed the comatose phone in my purse. She took advantage of the evacuation and decided she would spoil me rotten for Bernice’s sake. While Bree and I played Scrabble, she made a butter pecan layer cake with waves of homemade frosting and a pitcher of raspberry iced tea.

“I’m down to two
x
’s and a
j
. I forfeit.” Bree saluted me with her fork. “I knew it would stop raining. Do you want to take the horses out for a quick ride?”

“A quick ride…like over to the Cabotts’?”

“Maybe.”

“Sure.” I’d packed an old pair of jeans just in case. And something I’d found in Bernice’s closet. A pair of turquoise-blue cowboy boots with shiny silver tips across the toes that were as eye-catching as a French manicure.

Bree whistled when she saw them. “Not too shabby.”

“I hope Bernice won’t mind that I borrowed them,” I said, doing a foot pop straight out of
The Princess Diaries.

“Are you kidding? She’ll have them bronzed. Just like Mom did with my baby shoes.”

Bree was probably right. My relationship with Bernice was a blessing I hadn’t expected when I’d made that first phone call to Prichett a year ago. Bernice had been so…generous with me. Ever since we’d met, she’d shared her thoughts, her feelings, even her struggles while she figured out what it meant to follow Jesus. She’d given me the keys to her apartment and to her business. She trusted me to take care of her friends while she was in Europe. The only secret she’d kept was Alex, and that was only because she thought she’d been protecting me.

Elise suddenly appeared in the doorway with a digital camera. “Hold that pose.”

Of course when she said that I started to teeter. My ballet teacher would have confiscated my toe shoes if she’d been in the room. Bree jumped in to steady me just as Elise took the picture. The result was something that looked like a circus act.

“I’m e-mailing it to her right now.” Elise disappeared into the study.

“Let’s get out of here,” Bree whispered. “When Mom gets out the camera, she goes a little crazy. And life around here has gotten too weird since I taught her how to surf the Net.”

It didn’t take us long to saddle the horses. There were pockets of blue sky over our heads. The rain had coaxed a buffet of scents out of Elise’s flower gardens, so every breath I took was like shopping in an exclusive bath and body store. Only better.

When we got to the Cabotts’, Jill met us on the front steps and told us Riley was cleaning out the barn. She let Bree go but took me as a hostage.

“How do you like small-town life?” Jill poured a glass of water for me and pressed it into my hands. Then she pulled a chair out from the table. My cue to sit down and stay a while.

“I’m getting used to it.”
Except when it comes to everyone knowing everyone’s business. Still working on that one!

“I can’t believe the number of young people migrating to Prichett this summer,” Jill said. “You. That artist. Pastor Charles’s nephew. Old Dan—that’s my husband—hired him to help out a few nights a week with barn chores. It’s easy to get behind in the summer and Dex is such a personable young man.”

Wait a second. Did she just say Dex?

“Personable?” I sputtered.

Jill looked uncertain, like maybe she’d used the word wrong. “He sat in the same chair you’re sitting in right now and talked to me for almost two hours last week.”

“Dex talked to you?
Dex?
”

“Uh-huh. My boys were never big on conversation. It would be a treat if Riley kept me company like that sometimes.” Jill exhaled in motherly frustration. “Honestly, sometimes I think his entire vocabulary revolves around the contents of the refrigerator.”

Something was wrong here. I’d been around Riley. He was outgoing. Confident. And he could completely hold his own in a conversation with me and Bree. But Dex?
Friendly? Talkative?
She had to be kidding.

“What did you talk about?” I admit it. It was a trick question.

“He was telling me about the mission work he’s going to be doing in September. I’m going to talk to Old Dan about supporting him even though I know what I’m going to hear.
We’ve got enough people in Hollywood that need to be saved. Why don’t we send missionaries there instead of Africa?
”

I swallowed a laugh at her interpretation of Dan Cabott’s gravel-strewn voice.

Maybe that explained why Dex had come out of his shell. To raise money for his trip. I knew that wasn’t very charitable, but being displaced from my apartment for the weekend and being denied a heartfelt I’ll-make-it-up-to-you-in-chocolate apology will do that to a girl.

“And he’s a big C.S. Lewis fan, just like me,” Jill went on. “We must have talked for over an hour about the
Screwtape Letters.
”

Which I
knew
hadn’t been made into a video game, so maybe Dex did do something else in his spare time.

“Heather!” Bree’s voice echoed in the scrape of the screen door. “We’re ready to go.”

I hesitated but Jill shooed me away. “Go on. Have fun. And tell Riley to bring you both up to the house when you get back. I’ll have some snacks.”

When I walked outside, Bree was holding the horses’ reins and Riley was walking up the driveway with Mr. Personable himself.

I was about to take advantage of the moment and ask Dex if he had an identical twin lurking around somewhere when I heard a familiar sound. The beautiful music that could only be created by a motorcycle engine.

“I wonder who that is.” Bree smiled at me as Buckshot danced in place beside her and Rose gave an unhappy snort.

“It’s just a motorcycle,” I said. Casual words, heart cranking up to fourth gear. I knew that helmet. And those vintage-washed jeans.

While we watched, the motorcycle shot up the driveway and skidded to a stop a safe distance away. I was going to play it cool. As soon as he was in range I was going to give him The Look. The look that said
I have a life. I have friends.

Jared stripped off his helmet. “Finally. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

And he was looking at me when he said it.

“Really?” Was that my voice? Because it came out in a squeak. There was no way I could pull off
cool
now.

“It looks like I’m just in time for my first riding lesson.”

B
ree wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. Not when she knew he’d blown off our date because of a little downpour. “I think Buttercup, the Shetland pony, is free this evening.”

“Do you have something that goes as fast as my motorcycle?” He grinned at her and Bree looked at me. By mutual agreement, we switched to nonverbals.

She fanned her face with her riding gloves.
Wow
.

I raised an eyebrow.
What did I tell you?

“Are you sure you don’t want to go riding with us, Dex?” Riley asked.

Everyone’s attention was now on Dex. The bottom dropped out of my stomach. We had to go through this again, only now Jared was there to witness Dex’s fear of horses.

“
Carpe diem,
dude,” Jared said, giving Rose’s neck a pat.

Dex may not have been high on my list of favorite people at the moment but I didn’t want him to be humiliated. He was perfectly capable of doing that himself whenever he started a new project. And a person shouldn’t be pressured into doing something he was afraid of.

“Carpe diem.”
Dex looked confused. “Didn’t he win the Kentucky Derby a few years ago?”

“It means
seize the day,
” Jared said, with a glance at the rest of us that judged Dex completely clueless.

“Oh. Right.” Dex’s expression never changed, so why did I have the sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly what it meant?

“Dex!” Jill poked her head out the door and greeted him like a long-lost friend. Or maybe she felt sorry for him. “Old Dan wants to know if you have time for a game of checkers?”

“Sure.” Dex brushed past me and disappeared into the house.

No one said anything for a few seconds, then Riley shrugged. “Let’s go. Carp a dime.”

Bree gave Riley a tender look. Knowing Latin must not have been on her list.

We came back to the house when the mosquitoes went into full attack mode, but none of us were in a hurry to end the evening. Riley suggested a bonfire and while Bree and I put the horses in the round pen and brushed them out, Jill came out with a huge bowl of popcorn and root beer floats. We pushed the lawn chairs aside and spread horse blankets out on the ground to sit on. I was feeling very country.

Bree and Riley paired up on an expedition to find more kindling, leaving Jared and I alone. He scooted closer to me. “I’m sorry I canceled our canoe trip.”

He smelled really good. Was it all right to notice that? Or more importantly, was it all right to
enjoy
it?

“It’s kind of hard to canoe in a monsoon.” He’d looked all over for me. He was so forgiven.

“That was only part of the reason.”

Uh-oh. I held my breath, waiting for the rest.

“I had a crummy day today. I’ve never done a sculpture this size before and it’s more of a challenge than I thought. Except I can’t tell anyone that.” He nudged my knee with his. “I was licking my wounds in private. It’s hard to explain to people who don’t understand the creative process.”

And apparently a hairstylist would be one of those people who wouldn’t understand the creative process. Is that what he meant?

“I understand when things don’t work out the way you plan.”

He smiled. “Anyway, I got through it. I know you work tomorrow but how about doing something with me on Sunday?”

Yes!
“I’m free after church.”

“You still go to church?”

This was a strange question. A question to which there was only one response. “Uh-huh.”

“With your parents?”

Which ones?
Answering that question would be way too complicated and I still wasn’t sure I was ready to share it.

“I’ll probably go with Bree and her family since I’m staying with them.” I’d told Jared about the quarantine on my apartment but didn’t mention Dex’s name. He already had to live down choosing checkers over horseback riding.

“My parents had the philosophy that if God’s out there, it was up to me to find Him. I’m glad they did it that way because then it’s something I chose instead of something that was forced on me.”

I wasn’t sure about his parents’ philosophy but I could see his point. Everyone needed to discover their own personal relationship with God. There were kids I went to school with at His Light Christian Academy who seemed to be going through the motions because they had to. Once they graduated, they left their faith behind. Like a protractor. Maybe they were wondering how often they’d use it in the real world.

“Mom and Dad always told me to ask questions,” Jared said, his eyes intent. “Most religions don’t want you to do that—they just want you to accept their idea of right and wrong. I mean, if they’re so sure what they believe is true, they shouldn’t be afraid of questions. If there is a God, He should be able stand up to a little scrutiny, don’t you think?”

I’m sure the question was hypothetical but he was right. That was the way I’d been brought up. Mom and Dad had never been intimidated or gotten defensive when I’d asked tough questions but they had warned me there was a place where questions stopped and faith began. I knew that was true. If God were easy to figure out, He wouldn’t be God.

Mom liked to say that faith was taking one step forward and meeting God on the second. Just when I was about to ask Jared what he believed about God, Riley and Bree came back.

“Hey, you two are letting the fire go out!” Riley tossed in an armload of kindling and sent up a spray of red sparks.

“Sorry. We were talking.” I grabbed the closest stick and tossed it on the fire.

“Yeah. That helped.” Riley winked at me.

“So. Sunday,” Jared murmured in my ear.

Sunday
.

But first I had to get through Saturday. Twenty-four hours and counting!

In the morning, I gave up my raspberry Danish, oops, my biscotti, because Sam—Bree’s dad—made us buttermilk pancakes for breakfast. And because I was a coward. I couldn’t face all those empty booths at the café again.

What I’d forgotten was that Sally was my two-o’clock.

I decided to avoid bringing up the subject of Amanda as long as possible.

“So, you closed up for the day?” I gently pushed Sally against the back of the chair and she sprang forward like she was attached to a rubber band. This was worse than I thought. She was so tense her neck and shoulders felt like a relief map.

“No, I left Amanda in charge.”

And the subject was avoided for a record ten seconds.

Sally stared at herself in the mirror. “I’m a dinosaur, Heather. Straight out of the Stone Age. A dinosaur. And the café is a dinosaur, too. Soon to be extinct.”

Extinct, because I’d encouraged her to hire Amanda Clark. She was losing business because Amanda was trying to turn the café into Prichett’s version of Starbucks.

“You have a lot of loyal customers.”

“Loyal customers who can’t tell you which president is on a fifty-dollar bill because they’ve never seen one,” Sally scoffed. “I know the truth. The only reason I’ve kept the place going all these years is because the café hasn’t had any competition. Not since the Blue Light Lounge stopped serving lunch fifteen years ago. Now, with a Bucky Burger coming in, that’ll be the end of the café.”

I’d missed something. A Bucky Burger?

“That new gas station they’re building on the highway was supposed to put in a sub sandwich shop. That would have been all right with me. Subs are fine if a person’s on a health kick but, eventually, everyone goes back to beef. It’s just the way it is. But I can’t compete with those frozen hamburger patties they can turn out a mile a minute, and loyalty goes out the window when it’s up against fast and cheap. If they put in one of those soft-serve ice-cream machines, I may as well move to Yuma and join my sister’s water ballet class at the senior center.”

Somewhere during Sally’s verbal avalanche, I figured out this wasn’t about Amanda. Which should have absorbed all the guilt I was feeling, but Sally was so upset I had to come up with something to encourage her.

“Sally, the café is practically an institution. You have something that Bucky Burger doesn’t have.”

“All-you-can-eat spaghetti and meatballs?”

Okay. Two things. “Atmosphere. People don’t just come to the café to eat. They come to talk, to hang out with their friends and family. They want to do that in a comfortable place where they can linger over their meal, not zoom through the drive-thru and eat in their car.”

Sally collapsed in the chair like a blown-out tire. “A drive-thru. I never thought about a drive-thru.”

“There might not be a drive-thru,” I said quickly, but from the expression on her face, the damage was done.

Just keep spreading that sunshine, Heather!

“Amanda’s got so many new ideas I was getting excited about the café again,” Sally said. “She even came up with international night once a week. We’ve been looking at recipes all morning for Thai Tuesday.”

Maybe there were some hard-core curry fans in Prichett. Anything was possible. But hadn’t Sally noticed that the retired farmers lining the counter had jumped ship since Amanda came on board? I wondered if there was a recipe somewhere for Thai meat loaf. Maybe that would bring them back. But then again, probably not.

Sally sighed. “According to Jim Briggs, they won’t break ground for the Bucky Burger until next spring, so I have some time to figure out what I’m going to do about the café.”

“You can’t just give up, Sally. It’s okay if people have a choice where they want to eat. Bucky Burger may be fast and cheap but it’s also loud. And…impersonal. You’ve known your customers for years. It’s like eating with your family—”

The telephone rang right in the middle of my passionate speech.

“Cut and Curl. This is Heather, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Heather.” A cheerful voice—that I couldn’t quite place—greeted me like a long-lost cousin. “This is Audrey Cooke down at the Golden Oaks Nursing Home. I’ve got a note on my calendar to call you about tomorrow afternoon. Does three o’clock work for you?”

“For…” Fill in the blanks for me, Audrey.

There was an astonished gasp on the other end of the phone. “For Paint the Town Red Day. You’re going to be here, aren’t you? That’s all they’ve been talking about all week.”

What was Paint the Town Red Day and who were
they?

“Audrey? I have no idea what Paint the Town Red Day is.” Honesty was always the best policy. Even if it did make you look like the dullest pair of scissors in the drawer.

“It’s makeover day at the nursing home. The residents can get their hair styled or their nails done. Get sassy with some red lipstick. Have some P&P. It’s a big hit here.”

She was going to have to walk me through this every step of the way. “What exactly is P&P?”

“Pampering and Popcorn. Once they’re all dolled up, the staff puts in their favorite DVD and pops up a few bowls of popcorn. It’s kind of like a movie night out—only
in
. Anyway, Bernice was all signed up to do makeup and we assumed you’d be taking her place since she’s on her honeymoon.” A giggle followed the word.

Bernice
had
asked me to visit her friend Esther over the summer. Plus, it sounded like a sweet thing to do for women who didn’t get out much. “Sure. I’ll be there. Do I need to bring anything?”

“No. One of our aides sells Mystique Makeup on the side, so she always donates free samples. I’ll see you then!”

I hung up the phone and walked back to Sally. The fight had gone out of her and she was now staring, trancelike, at her reflection in the mirror.

“A brunette dinosaur is still a dinosaur.”

“First of all, you aren’t a dinosaur, you’re a business woman who’s respected by everyone in the community. Embrace it.”

I fluffed Sally’s hair and studied the gray that was battling for dominance. I knew that if Sally went au natural, she’d have that eye-catching shade of silver that didn’t age a woman, just made her more fascinating. And I told her so.

Her mouth dropped open. “You want me to voluntarily turn into my mother?”

“I want you to consider giving nature six months to take its course and see what happens. If you don’t like it, I’ll break out Burnished Brown Number Nine.”

“All right. You talked me into it.” Sally was morose again. “I’m a dinosaur, no sense hiding it anymore. It’s not like I’m fooling anyone.”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. In six months she’d see the results of her decision and then I could smile and say
I told you so.

It wasn’t until I was closing up for the day and heard the growl of a motorcycle on Main Street that I remembered Jared. And that I’d told him I’d do something with him after church on Sunday. But I understood when he postponed our Friday date because of a little rain (at least I did after he tracked me down at Riley’s) so I was sure he’d return the favor and understand why I had to postpone our date.