Boo Who (12 page)

M
ELB
C
ORNFORTH WAS HURRYING
along Fourth Street on her way to the deli, trying to convince herself if she took the long route and burned some calories, she might be able to eat a bearclaw and still lose weight.

It had been two weeks since Christmas, since she had discovered that not only did she have no willpower, but she actually had negative willpower. If the thought even entered her mind that she shouldn’t eat something, her desire for that food tripled. Except reverse psychology didn’t seem to work. She’d tried thinking of how much she didn’t want to eat raw carrots. She still didn’t want to eat raw carrots.

And the more she thought about not fitting into her wedding dress, the more stressed she became. And the more stressed she became, the more she ate. It didn’t help that she still hadn’t told Oliver she’d gone over budget. Secretly, she was hoping she might be able to save money some other places.

She’d spent the morning practicing how to spell Oliver’s last name correctly, and then practicing her new signature. She once thought “Cornforth” was a long last name but now realized she had nothing on Oliver. For about fifteen minutes she wrote it over and over, and once she got the hang of where all the vowels went, she finally nailed it, even though she had to make up a little song about it. Oh, well. Whatever worked.

What wasn’t working was her plan to lose four dress sizes. And that was exactly where her mind was when she found herself on top of a man in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Oh! My!
I am so sorry!” Melb climbed off the man and stood to her feet. She watched as the man slowly stood up, and saw on his face the most horrible grimace. Her whole life flashed in front of her eyes, and she imagined she was about to be murdered in the middle of Fourth Street. She hoped they would find her body soon.

But then the man sneezed. Melb screamed. It’s amazing how much a sneeze and a gunshot can sound alike. The man looked at her after wiping his nose. “Are you okay?”

Her whole body was trembling, but she managed a smile and a nod. “Again, I’m so sorry. I was in deep thought.”

She looked at the old house in front of them, one she knew had been abandoned for over a year. “Do you live here?”

“Just moved here. Dr. Hass.” The man extended a hand.

“Doctor?”

“But I’m not a medical doctor, I’m—”

“A
psychologist?!”
she gasped and then jumped up and down in excitement. “That’s exactly what I need! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“Ma’am, listen, I—”

“You just moved here. I understand. You probably don’t even have your office set up. But listen, I’m willing to pay high dollar for your services. Doctor, I am desperate.”

The man stood there, looking flabbergasted. Melb decided to sweeten the deal. She pulled out a wad of cash from her purse. “Look, I’ll pay you in cash right now. I need someone to talk to. I was going to use this as a down payment for a caterer for my wedding, but I think it will be better spent with you.”

He looked down at the money in her hand and cupped her shoulder. “Tell me about your problem.”

Reverend Peck could hardly contain his excitement. Since before Christmas, he had been working out his plan, and now he was just a few days
from completion. As far as he was concerned, this was divinely inspired. He’d thought of every detail. Now he just had to implement it.

As quickly as a man his age could work, he unbolted every pew from the floor.

“There. Perfect. Just the right amount of squeeze. Try it one more time.”

Wolfe tried not to sigh with boredom as he shook Oliver’s hand,
squeezing
it firmly but gently.

“Perfect!” Oliver said. “That’s exactly how you want to greet every customer. That says you’re not overbearing, but you’re confident. Look ’em in the eye, too. Give ’em that killer grin. But remember, don’t squeeze too tightly. That freaks people out. They think you know too much about ’em. They think you’re out to sell them a car and nothing else.”

“What else would you be out for?”

“You want to build trust with the customer, Wolfe. It’s all about trust. Any of these people can drive fifteen miles down the road to Gordon MacNamera’s place. They gotta believe that they are not the only customer who has been to your lot that day. Your handshake has to say, ‘Glad you’re here, but I’m not desperate.’ And listen, don’t hold out on the ladies. They like the firm handshake too. Nothing grosses a woman out like a limpy-noodle handshake.”

“Okay.”

“Now, once you’ve closed the deal—and not to discourage you, but it’s going to be a while before I’ll let you close a deal—then you firm up that handshake, and you place your other hand on top of theirs. It’s the we’ve bonded for life’ handshake, and they’ll remember that the next time they need a car. All right, let’s try that one.”

Oliver held out his hand, but Wolfe shook his head. “You know, Oliver, maybe we could take a break. This is a … a lot of information to process.”

Oliver slapped his head. “Of course, I’m sorry. I forget sometimes,
you know? It’s as natural to me as breathing. But hey, don’t get discouraged. You’re doing great on the secret language. I’m real proud of you on that.”

“Thanks.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you take fifteen minutes, get some air? And then we’ll go over some of the trade secrets I’ve been hinting about.”

“Terrific.”

Wolfe walked out of Oliver’s office, his head pounding from all the effort it was taking him to pay attention. It had been two solid weeks of training. Oliver had yet to let him even talk to a customer, for fear he might make a mistake and blow the whole deal.

What deal Oliver was talking about, Wolfe wasn’t sure. So far, in two weeks, Oliver had sold one car. And Wolfe had seen only a handful of other customers come on the lot. How did this man make a living?

He’d watched Oliver talk to the customers. He was quite good with his body language. They always seemed at ease. And he admired that Oliver took great care in how he approached the customers. Wolfe had been trained in everything from how to dress to look professional but not uppity, to the secret handshake.

And as fascinating as all this behind-the-scenes car selling was, Wolfe had to admit to himself he was feeling quite empty. But maybe it was because he’d been sidelined. As soon as Oliver let him get in the game, maybe things would look up.

He didn’t miss writing, at least what he used to write. But what he did miss were those early morning hours when his mind would wander to the faraway places he created, where journeys began, characters were birthed, emotions within him and his new world merged. Now his mornings consisted of a quick cup of coffee and a straightening of his tie, which Oliver indicated was of utmost importance, since “a crooked tie could indicate a crooked tie owner.” Or something to that effect.

But where emptiness lingered from his former craft, not so far away in his soul was the unbelievable joy he felt for Ainsley. Every day he grew to love her more, which amazed him, because every day he didn’t think
it was possible to love someone more. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what God had for his life.

“Wolfe!”

He turned around from where he’d been leaning on the front of the building. Ainsley was running up to him, her face shining with happiness.

“Hi!” He embraced and kissed her. “What are you doing here?”

She handed him a paper sack. “I baked up some blueberry muffins and thought I’d drop you by a couple, in case you got hungry later. I have a feeling you are not packing yourself a proper lunch.”

“Bologna doesn’t count?”

She made a grimace, and he laughed.

“You look good,” Wolfe said, brushing her hair away from her face. “Are you on your way to work?”

“Actually,” she said, her voice full of excitement, “I just quit work!”

“What? Really?”

She nodded. “I did. I can’t believe it. It was very hard, but I did it.”

He hugged her. “That’s terrific news! Now you’ll have all the time in the world to plan the wedding.”

“Well …”

“What?”

“That will give me more time. But that’s not why I quit. I’ve been meeting with Alfred this morning.”

He tried not to let the irritation he felt become apparent in his features. He smiled. “Oh?”

“Wolfe, this is so exciting. I can’t begin to tell you. Alfred has this entire plan for me. He’s been really thinking this through. And honey, it’s … it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to be.”

He swallowed down the words he wanted to say and tried to listen. “Tell me more.”

“Well, he’s got this idea that I will start small, just doing some small catering jobs around Skary and nearby towns. We’ll get the local papers to give me some coverage on those things. He said as I gain more exposure, we’ll need to come up with some big event for me to do, and he’s
going to bring out a film crew and basically make it like my first show. I think he called it a pilot. Once we get that edited, he’s going to show it to some TV execs, see if they like me. He’s also got a photo shoot lined up for me. He’s says it is as much about the look as the cook. He says I have this way about me where I seem nice but knowledgeable.” She clasped her hands. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“Honey, um, what about the wedding?”

“What about it? I’ll have plenty of time for both. Now that I’m not working, I have all the time in the world. Oooo, which reminds me, I gotta run. Alfred wants me to stop by the local hardware store and see if they’d let me put on a bake sale outside while teaching the finer points of woodworking.”

“You know woodworking?”

“Not really, but Alfred says Martha doesn’t know everything either, but she has a lot of experts helping and teaching her, so then she can teach us. Okay, gotta run. See you at my house for dinner tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Bye.” Wolfe watched as she rushed to her car and then drove out of sight, giving him a quick wave as she left the parking lot. He didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because he glanced over to find Oliver tapping his watch and beckoning him back with a fatherly wink.

It was not even noon yet.

Dr. Hass was pleased he’d at least gotten part of his office assembled. A few books and knickknacks lined the shelves. He’d even lined his desk with office supplies. He had yet to hang his many awards of excellence. Apparently, this woman who’d run into him didn’t need any credentials. She already thought he could solve all her problems.

Stuffing the wad of money in his pocket, able to smell it even from within the dark fabric of his pants, he invited her in and offered her the chair that had come with the house. He was a pretty good judge of character,
but this woman, “Melb” she called herself, wasn’t so easily sized up. She had a jovial smile and a gentle demeanor, yet her eyes sparkled with passion and determination.

“Don’t you have a couch?” she asked, settling herself into the plush leather chair.

“Um … that’s on its way.”

She chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t be hard on you. You haven’t even opened up for business! Besides, I’d probably fall right into a deep sleep if I stretched out on a nice couch. Hey, that’s an idea! Do you hypnotize?” “No.”