Beyond the Storm: Quilts of Love Series Page 6

  In the days that followed, Heather found a group at Jen’s church that catered to married women and their struggles. That was where she had really gotten to know what a wonderful person Jen Strohacker was. Jen could have been mad about Heather not going through with her plans to let her and Dan adopt Robbie. But she wasn’t.

  Instead, she offered to babysit sometimes and brought over care packages. Not just the stuff they needed around the house either, but personal, fun stuff, too. Girlie things like bath salts and hand lotion. Sometimes, Jen would stop by just to give Heather a word of encouragement. The woman, who couldn’t have a baby of her own after years of trying, came to encourage her. They’d formed a fast, mentor-style friendship, and Jen had taught Heather what it meant to lean on Jesus. So Heather clung to her faith believing that God would lead her not only through the valley of the shadow but also out the other end and into blue skies. If she cast her cares on Him, things would get better. They had to. Couldn’t get much worse.

  4:00 p.m.

  “We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an up-to-the-minute storm warning with our head meteorologist Ron Donovan. Ron?”

  “Yes, we’re getting reports that Lincoln County is experiencing some severe weather, which is manifesting itself in nonstop thunder and lightning strikes. We’re looking at a pretty high risk of fire; in fact, right now a small house is burning just south of Suffolk County. Also, if you’re headed out to Jefferson County, you might want to hold off. We’re getting reports of hailstones the size of golf balls right now. If you look out the window, you can see the weather beginning to change locally. Keep it tuned here to 101.5 K-RAW for up-to-the-minute storm-tracker advisories and tornado watch reports. Right now all signs are pointing to severe storm activity arriving around 6 or 7 tonight.”

  6

  4:30 p.m.

  Happy hour was in full swing by the time Bob Ray arrived at Low Places to begin stocking the bar. The Buffalo wings and cocktail weenies were hot, and the girls who lounged across the bar, teasing and flirting with him, even hotter. Already, the joint was jumping.

  The mood—to put it mildly—was jovial. Saturday nights at Low Places practically came with a guarantee: Get there early enough and trouble will follow you home. Bob Ray bit back a grin. Tonight, trouble was wearing short shorts and cowboy boots and a top that revealed just about everything but her navel. The busty redhead had been posing at the bar, smiling at him, watching his every move as he pulled the empties and unloaded fresh boxes. He’d worn his T-shirt one size too tight and, because of an afternoon spent pumping some pretty heavy iron, he knew why she stared. Bob Ray had seen her in here with a group of her ditzy friends before—the last four Saturdays in a row, actually. Tonight, she was alone.

  “You come here often?” she asked, when he came over to fill the pretzel bowl.

  He laughed, making sure his biceps bulged as he rolled up the pretzel bag. “Often enough to keep a paycheck coming.”

  Elbows together, she leaned forward and grinned, her full plum-colored lips revealing a Cheshire grin. “Ever get out from behind that bar to play a little pool?”

  Bob Ray pushed the pretzel bowl toward her and braced himself on his forearms. “Sometimes.” Their noses were only about six or seven inches apart now. She smelled like spearmint. His heart accelerated as he wondered what it would be like to kiss her. This was a small town. Undoubtedly, people thought he’d already cheated on Heather. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t seriously considered it. It’s just that so far, he hadn’t been able to find the time or the place. Or maybe . . . the guts.

  He and Heather went way back. They’d known each other since grade school, and he had harbored a secret crush on her—on and off—since then. Even though he resented his marriage, Heather still starred in the title role as his first “everything,” not to mention being the mother of his son. As much as he longed to bust free, for some lame reason, he just couldn’t seem to cross the infidelity bridge. Yet.

  His gaze slid from the bombshell’s lips to her eyes. Those were some bedroom eyes just loaded with an invitation. A long slow smile pushed a come-hither dimple into her cheek. Then again, if he just kissed her . . . just once, Heather would never be the wiser.

  4:40 p.m.

  “Tantastic, Jen speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Hey, Mama. It’s Daddy.”

  Jen smiled down at her burgeoning belly. “Hi, Daddy. I was just going to call you.” She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder so that she could continue folding a clean pile of tanning bed towels.

  “I’ve got a little job to do over at Bob Ray and Heather’s place. Seems Robbie got a toy and some towels stuck in the toilet, and the place is flooding. I’m heading over to the lumberyard to pick up a shop vac and some fans and plumbing supplies now.”

  “Oh, poor Heather,” Jen laughed. “Well, it’ll be good practice for when your kid does something like that.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

  “Oh, your son wants to speak with you, okay?” It was a dumb game they started playing the day they found out she was pregnant. Jen set the folded towels down and put the phone to her belly. She could hear the tinny echo of her husband jabbering some silly baby talk.

  “Hi, there, buddy boy. Daddy loves his little man. You giving Mom some good kicks?”

  “Yes!” Jen said loud enough so Dan could hear. His chuckle filled her hand. The baby must have heard him, too, because he kicked or punched at the phone. “Guess what!” Jen pulled the phone back up so she could talk. “He is listening to you on the phone! I’m not kidding, he just kicked the phone.”

  “I’m tellin’ ya, he’s gonna be a soccer star.” The pride shimmered across the line.

  Jen had never known a man more excited about becoming a father. She was so blessed. “You know, I’m so lucky to have these precious moments with you. You are such a sweetheart, and you’re going to be an awesome dad.”

  “Hey now. What brought that on?”

  She wasn’t going to tell him that she’d been snooping in his prayer pocket. “I don’t know. You. It’s just . . . you. Who you are. The way you are about everything. Even now, going over to Heather’s house to dig baby toys out of her toilet. You’re special.”

  “Thanks, honey. Right back atcha.”

  Awkwardly, she bent to tuck the newly folded stack of towels under the front counter. So many of the women in the mother’s group at her church didn’t have such a great partner. She sighed. Heather Lathrop was one. “What time do you think you’ll be done over there at Heather’s place?”

  “In plenty of time to get you up to the clinic, don’t worry. Make me a sandwich or something for the ride up there, okay?”

  “I have a better idea. I’ll make you dinner instead. I’ll defrost some chops.”

  “We won’t have time.”

  “Yeah. We will,” Jen said and heard her breath gust in the phone’s mouthpiece, “Sarah called and canceled. There’s a tornado watch for our area. They just announced it on the Weather Channel, and she doesn’t want us to take any chances. She’ll reschedule after the weather clears up.”

  “Oh . . . bummer. Well, I guess that’s the nice thing about having an ultrasound technician for a sister, huh? You can get in just about whenever you want.”

  “True.” She could hear him deflating and wondered what she might do to cheer him up. A gallon of rocky road usually did the trick. She’d stop by the Quick In Go next door on the way home. “So, it’ll be just the two of us tonight. One of our last romantic evenings together before the baby comes. You can help me cut out the baby’s quilt.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “You are a good man.” She laughed. “While I’m waiting for you, I’ll try to wrap up a bunch of loose ends here in my office. Between Kaylee’s wedding and me having a baby, neither of us is going to have much time to get anything done for the next two weeks.” Jen squinted out the salon’s front window. The glass was tinted sunshade blue, giving the
sky an unusual, bright green cast. Funny how it almost seemed to glow. “The weather already feels odd. The storm they’re reporting must be on its way. Be careful out there, okay? ”

  “Will do. You, too.”

  “I sure love you, Daddy.”

  “Mm. I love you, too, Mama.”

  4:30 p.m.

  The door jangled as Isuzu shooed their last customer of the day out the door. She flipped the Open sign over to Closed and turned to inspect Abigail, who was sweeping up a pile of hair. “You wear that to meet Handsome-business-card-guy?”

  Frowning, Abigail glanced at her flip-flops. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”

  “At least you wear two same shoe.” Isuzu harrumphed as she strode to her workstation and sprayed the table down with disinfectant. As she scrubbed, she said, “Handsome-guy is good catch. I know I see him sometime first service on Sunday with Dan and Jen Strohacker. Mae Dewsbury from Doozy Juice say he build her new kitchen. She say he very hard worker and tell me Handsome-guy is honest guy with ugly dog who love Jesus.”

  “I’m confused. Who loves Jesus? Handsome-guy or ugly dog?”

  Isuzu rolled her eyes. “I think you need go get him now.”

  “You’ve certainly done your research.” Abigail dumped her dustpan of hair into the garbage pail. “If he’s that great, why don’t you go get him?”

  “I prefer man who love Jesus and speak Japanese. Easier for me at home. But, if no man from Japan show up soon,” Isuzu shrugged, “and you not interested in this Handsome-guy—” brows arched, mouth downturned in thought, she seemed to consider her plan, “—I will sit by him at church and flirt. Maybe,” she waggled her brows, “I teach him some Japanese.” Isuzu’s family emigrated from Japan when she was a teenager, and she and her older brother—Brooke’s father—still preferred to hold most of their conversations in Japanese.

  “You really don’t like what I have on?”

  Isuzu brandished her bottle of disinfectant spray. “It very casual.”

  “So?”

  “Fine. Whatever you do, take umbrella. I look at sky just now and I see rain up there. Radio say big wind and hail, too.”

  “Yes, mom. I’ve got a sweater in my car.”

  5:00 p.m.

  “You’re in luck!” Danny said as he plugged the shop vac in and handed the nozzle to Heather.

  “Why doesn’t it feel that way?” Heather gave him a bleary stare.

  Danny’s chuckle was filled with empathy. “I’m talking about my helping you get this mess cleaned up. Jen’s ultrasound appointment was canceled, so I can help you get dried out.” He turned to Robbie. “How did a squirt like you get so much water on the floor?”

  “Uh-oh,” Robbie shouted and pointed at the small lake that had swallowed his feet.

  Danny tickled his bare belly and teased him till Robbie was squealing with laughter. “Did you do all this ‘uh-oh’ stuff all by yourself, Mr. Mister?”

  Heaving a long, tired sigh, Heather followed the direction of Danny’s curious gaze with her own. There were still standing puddles in the bathroom and down the hall, and the living room carpet made squishy noises as she walked across. The air was hot and damp, like the steam room down at The Pump. She’d soaked up as much as she could with bath towels and then wrung them outside, but that was hard, slow work made even tougher because she had to keep an eye on Robbie at the same time. Lord only knew what the squirt would get it in his head to do next.

  “Okay. Here’s the deal. I’m going to get the fans out of my truck and you’ll need to let them run for a day or two. Then, I’m going to go under the house and see where the water is running. But before that, why don’t we start vacuuming up as much as we can and pump it outside, okay?”

  “Okay.” Heather sighed a huge whoosh of relief. “When we’re done, I need to run get some milk for Robbie’s dinner. Would you mind if we did that while you check the crawl-space? I hear there’s a storm coming and I don’t want to be out in it.”

  “No problem. If I’d have known you were out of milk,” Danny was looking at Robbie now and talking in a silly voice, “I’d have brought you a cow!”

  “Moo!” Robbie shouted.

  “He’s a sharp kid.” Danny tousled the boy’s hair and then ran out to get the fans.

  She watched him muscle his equipment out of the back of his truck with no little envy. Even in air so thick and close, he was such a hard worker for other people. Heather may have been able to get pregnant at the drop of a hat, but Jen Strohacker was the lucky one.

  5:55 p.m.

  Yielding to Isuzu’s innate fashion sense, Abigail ran upstairs and changed into some business-like slacks and a blouse before she left to meet the guy who was building the food cart. Just for kicks—and because she had a little time to kill—she also restyled her hair and touched up her lipstick. It would be intimidating enough if this guy was even half as good-looking as everyone claimed. Since she’d been such a shrew on the phone, she really wanted to look her best when she groveled and begged his forgiveness. She even grabbed an umbrella on her way out the door, but she’d never admit that to Isuzu. Zuzu was bossy enough.

  Danny’s hardware and lumberyard was over a mile east of Old Town so Abigail opted not to walk. A Quick In Go convenience store at the strip mall across the street from Danny’s had a parking spot right in front. Perfect. The grocery list she’d written that morning was tucked into her purse so after her meeting, she could just pop into the QIG and pick up a package of batteries and some milk for breakfast tomorrow.

  As she got out of the car, the blustery weather grabbed her carefully styled hair and used it to give her face a good slapping. Oh, she was having some fun now. A glance at her watch told her she was late. Her sigh of frustration felt as if it had been sucked out of her lungs by the stiff breezes. So much for the good impression she’d intended. As she trotted across Homestead Avenue, another gust of wind whipped her umbrella inside out and nearly tugged her off her feet. Why had she brought this useless umbrella? The wind was nearly strong enough to turn her into Mary Poppins.

  “From now on, I’m ignoring you, Zuzu,” she muttered under her breath, as she trudged down the sidewalk, across Danny’s parking lot and to the entrance of the hardware store. Once there, she struggled to get her umbrella turned right-side out and closed so that she could pass through the front doors. Maybe the predictions about a storm being on the way were right for once, she thought as she was blown inside.

  Abigail was grateful for the sudden sense of calm the store afforded as she adjusted her clothes. A quick glance around told her that there was nobody behind the desk. He had said six, hadn’t he? She checked her watch. Surely he’d wait five minutes for her?

  “Hello?” she called out. She knew Danny was taking Jen to get an ultrasound and that Handsome-guy . . . wait . . . she dug his business card out of her purse . . . Justin Girard was manning the desk for him. She sighed and dropped her umbrella on the counter. Behind her, a display of lady’s tools with flowers on them caught her eye. Might as well kill some time shopping while she waited. Oh, how cute! Didn’t she need a tiny hammer with flowers on it? She was comparing all the color options when she heard someone come into the store from the lumberyard.

  “Wheew,” a masculine voice muttered from the door that led out to the lumber area. “That is some seriously fierce wind.”

  Her heart went into a freefall as she looked up, then glanced quickly away and spun around. Oh, good grief! It was him! The guy she’d danced with last night! And her hair! Tiny hammer still in hand, Abigail reached up to finger comb some of the damage the wind had done. Ducking behind a tall display of carpet samples, she fished her compact out of her purse and checked her lipstick. It was mostly still there.

  “Can I help you?”

  Abigail spun around again, startled. Suddenly he was standing right behind her.

  His expression slowly morphed from business to surprise to pleasure. “Well, hi there! Hey, I didn’t think I’d .
. . you know . . . see you so soon.”

  “Yeah, I know! Me neither!” Her heart pulled out of its nosedive and soared. He was every bit as handsome as she’d remembered. And then some. In this light, his eyes were even bluer than they’d seemed last night.

  “You’re looking for a hammer?” Arms over his chest, legs spread wide, he tilted his head and grinned at her.

  “A hammer? Oh!” She glanced at the silly tool she still clutched. “No! No. I was just . . . you know . . . looking.”

  “Ah. Because you know, we have a matching screwdriver. And a tape measure. I could get you outfitted with a tool belt, too, if you want?” He had perfect teeth and the best creases at the corners of his mouth.

  Abigail laughed, her cheeks growing as pink as the brilliant clouds that streaked the horizon. “No, really, that’s sweet but I’m not all that . . . handy.”

  Propping his elbow on a stack of boxes, he settled in for a conversation. “So how come you’re not out line dancing on a Saturday night?”

  “Me? Oh, that was just a one-time thing.”

  “Really?” There was approval in the question.

  “It was a bachelorette party. I don’t—” some nervous twitters augmented her babblings, “—you know, generally hang out at bars . . . and stuff, like a lot of single people do.” It felt as if fire ants were racing up her neck. “Not that I’m saying you do! I mean, because I guess you do . . . Sometimes? For burgers with friends? Not that that’s b-bad or anything, I . . . should shut up now.”

  “No! I . . . no. Don’t. I . . .” He palmed the back of his neck and seemed to be searching the ceiling for words. “I gotta be honest with you. I wasn’t going to go back to dance with you on Friday.”

  “Oh.” Lips stretched into a bright smile she chirped, “me neither.” Oh, she wanted to curl up and die. The tips of her ears flamed and her stomach lurched.