Love Is All Around (28 page)

“Hmm, where are you going?”

“The Dogwood Inn.” Patsy paused. “I shouldn’t have called it a date. It’s more of a business meeting, a celebration.”

“Really? What for?” Ruthann opened a pack of Juicy Fruit and folded a piece into her mouth.

Lining the quarters up end to end in her change drawer, Patsy replied, “I finished the website for Sunrise. Glenn thinks they’re going to offer me a job.” She snuck a look at her friend.

“Hmm.” Ruthann snapped her gum. “Can’t wait to leave us all behind, I guess.”

“You know that’s not it.” Another customer wheeled into Patsy’s lane. Patsy flipped down the end of the cart and grabbed a box of Wheaties. “I just need something more.”

“You mean more better.”

Now was not the time to correct Ruthann’s grammar. “Just more.”

“Ruthann, I know I should be impressed you can chew gum and jaw with Patsy at the same time, but since I’m not paying you to do either one, I suggest you get back to work.” Bruce yelled from his elevated office.

Ruthann put her back to Patsy and motioned an approaching customer into her lane. For once, Patsy was glad her boss was such a giant pain. Her conversation with Ruthann was going nowhere fast. Why couldn’t anyone understand that Patsy needed to leave Daisy Creek? Ruthann acted like it was a personal attack, and Granny’d been simmering like chicken soup in a crock pot for days.

Four hours later, Patsy was ready for a break. She locked her register and headed to the deli department to grab a bologna sandwich.

“I know what’s been going on. I just want you to admit it.” Carl Stephens stood next to a shaking Bruce.

“Really, Carl, I have no idea what you think you know, but trust me, you are way off track.”

“My marriage may be off track, but trust me, I’m not.” Carl leaned in, his face only inches from the other man’s.

Bruce grimaced, like he smelled something bad and twisted his head to the side. “There’s no reason to get angry. If you’d calm down, I’m sure we could work this out.”

“Where’s my wife?” Carl took an unsteady step back, knocking a jar of deli mustard onto the tile. It hit with a loud crack, spilling yellow goop onto the floor.

Bruce didn’t even glance at the stain on his otherwise pristine floor. “I already told you. Marcia called in sick today. If she isn’t home, I have no idea where she is.”

“She’s not hiding out in your car? Don’t think I haven’t heard about your little lunch meetings. This town is too small. We’re onto you.” Carl slumped against the bread display, crushing the Roman Meal. “Everybody’s onto you.”

Bruce sidestepped out of Carl’s reach. “If she calls in, I’ll tell her you’re looking for her.”

Carl didn’t notice as Bruce scurried away, leaving a trail of yellow spots in his wake. Carl looked deflated. Patsy hurt for him. She knew the pain of finding out someone you loved was cheating on you, making you into a fool in front of the whole town. She approached Carl. His head was bowed, and his shoulders shook.

Placing her hand on his arm, she said, “Carl?”

He looked up, meeting her gaze with bloodshot eyes. “Yeah? Oh, hey, Patsy. I guess you heard. Not that it matters. You probably knew anyway. Everybody does.”

The stench of stale beer enveloped her. She forced herself to stay put. “She’s not here. Bruce didn’t lie—about that.”

“I know. She’s left me. Can you believe that?” He ran his hand over his face. “She left me. She’s been sneaking around with that bald-headed weasel, and I never said a thing. Then she up and leaves me.”

There wasn’t anything Patsy could say to make it better. “I’m sorry, Carl.”

“Yeah, I guess you understand. It’s rough, isn’t it? Can’t trust in anything anymore. Things used to be so simple. I had my life all planned out and now look at me, yelling at No-Balls Bruce in the deli section.” He uttered a low laugh. “Pretty sad.”

“You’ll get past it.”

“Will I? Did you?”

Patsy ignored the question and concentrated on steering him outside. “How are you getting home?”

“Does it matter?”

“You can’t drive.”

He leaned against a metal column.

“Don’t be stupid, Carl. You still have a daughter and parents and a ton of people who love you. You’ll get past this. You can’t give up.”

Slumping lower on the post, he said, “I can walk to Mom and Dad’s. They just live over behind the KFC.”

Patsy separated a Starlight mint from the stickers in her pocket. “Eat this. It won’t solve everything, but maybe it’ll keep the complications down some.”

He twisted it open and stumbled off toward his parents. He was a mess, but at least he wasn’t driving. And he was headed somewhere people would watch out for him, instead of airing his problems in front of every shopper at the Bag and Basket.

Damn Marcia for creating this mess.

What about this town caused people to cheat and drink? Patsy stopped. Carl smelled like the inside of Busch can, and Marcia’d said things weren’t always simple. Was Patsy judging the wrong half?

She shook her head. Not that it mattered. They’d both screwed up, and they’d both pay the price, especially as long as they were in Daisy Creek. No one would let them forget this slip-up. When you stepped in a mess in this town, you carried it around with you for the rest of your life.

She stamped on the automatic doormat and waited for the door to swing open. The loudspeaker greeted her.

“Leroy, clean up on aisle six.”

Life should be so simple.

Chapter 17

“Where you headed?” Granny set her chair to a gentle rock.

“The Dogwood Inn. Glenn’s picking me up.”

“That boy in the revved-up car?” Granny’s chair thumped as it bumped against the wall.

“It’s not revved up. That’s the way it came.” Patsy slumped on the couch, studying the pattern of granny squares that made up the afghan.

A squeak followed by another thump signaled Granny standing up. “You never did show me that basket you was so proud of, the one like a jack-o-lantern. Where’d you leave it?”

“It’s in the kitchen.” Patsy waved her hand in a vague motion but pushed herself up to follow.

“Well, that’s something. It is.” Granny held the grinning basket at arm’s length.

“You like it?”

“What’d you say it was for?”

“Trick or treating, or holding candy, or my favorite, a centerpiece. Look. I got some dried flowers today.”

Patsy picked up a bag from the floor and pulled out the flowers. “See how nice that looks.” She spread the stems out, filling the basket. “There wasn’t much to pick from in town, so I just got gold and green, but you could use some other shades of green and maybe a darker orange.” She held the arrangement out to her grandmother.

“Now that is right pretty. Let’s set it right here in the center of the table where folks can see it.” Granny plopped the basket down.

“You have to put the face in front.” Patsy twisted the basket so he grinned at the front door.

“Yeah, wouldn’t do for him not to be facing the front.”

The basket really was great. It would be perfect for Thanksgiving. Patsy could see it sitting on a table filled with turkey, cranberry sauce, and pies. She could even make little ones to match. Granny could fill them with her special spiced walnuts and people could take them home afterward. It would be a nice touch. Will would love it.

Will. She had to stop thinking of him. He’d probably be eating Thanksgiving in Chicago anyway. For that matter, come November, Patsy might not be in Daisy Creek either, not if she got the job with Sunrise. She’d be in St. Louis, eating frozen turkey TV dinners and Mrs. Smith pumpkin pie with Pugnacious. The cloud of disquiet that had surrounded Patsy all day settled back around her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Granny’s voice jarred Patsy out of her dreary holiday plans.

“Nothing.” Patsy stuck another dried stem into the jack-o-lantern. “You think it needs more green?”

“I don’t think there’s much hope of getting it any prettier.”

Patsy’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t like it.”

“I like any basket you like making. You want some tea?” Granny tottered over to retrieve the pitcher.

Headlights flashed through the window. “There’s Glenn. I’ll see you later. Don’t wait up.”

Patsy grabbed her purse and hurried to the door to keep Pugnacious from going into her normal “you’re not welcome” routine. She turned to wave goodbye to her grandmother. Granny stood next to the table, sipping her tea. The pitcher sat in front of the basket, blocking his grin.

“I was going to knock on the door,” Glenn greeted Patsy halfway up the walk.

“I didn’t want to set my dog off.” Patsy stomped to the passenger door and yanked it open.

He slid into the driver’s seat. “Is something wrong?”

Her grandmother was a pushy, opinionated manipulator. “No, nothing’s wrong. I was just hurrying.”

Glenn gunned up the engine and roared out of town. The Dogwood Inn was about a thirty-minute drive. The roads were only marginally straighter than the ones Patsy and he had taken to Sauk City. She resumed her grip on the door loop.

“You hear from Sunrise yet?” Glenn swerved around a carload of kids, probably heading off somewhere to drink beer by the river.

“Not yet, but it’s the weekend. I suspect they don’t work weekends.”

“True enough. I bet you hear from them Monday though. The marketing manager sounded pretty pleased with the site.” He twisted up the volume of his CD player, filling the car with Pink Floyd.

Patsy gripped the loop tighter. They made the rest of the trip in relative silence with Glenn nodding along to the music and Patsy struggling not to fling the CD out the passenger window.

“Not much of a parking lot, is it?” Glenn’s little car bumped over a rut dried in the mud.

“There’s a gravel area over there.” Patsy pointed to a space near the Inn. “They haven’t been open real long, and before that, the place was deserted for about forty years. I guess they haven’t gotten around to paving.”

Glenn’s head bobbed as his car hit another rut and Pink Floyd repeated their lack of need for an education. “Guess not.” He flipped off the music—torture, whatever. At least it was off.

“Have you been here before?” Glenn held open the Inn’s door.

“Just once,” she replied, scanning the room. It was dark, not a lot of need for windows in old flour mills. The walls were rough-hewn lumber covered with pictures of area landmarks and wildlife. Patsy stopped to admire a watercolor of a rainbow trout.

“You think that’s the dinner special?” Glenn peered over her shoulder.

“They’re selling them. See.” Patsy pointed to a tag in the lower corner. “This was painted by a high school student from Sauk City. It’s good.” Will would love to have something like this for DaisyGal. Artwork would be a good addition to the site. Patsy fished a business card for the Inn out of a basket near the cash register. Maybe if she called the owner, she could get the student’s phone number.

A waitress directed them to a booth in the back. Patsy was looking over the menu when she heard a familiar voice.

“I have been dying to come here.” Jessica, looking annoyingly classic in a white halter and low cut jeans, flicked a length of auburn hair over her shoulder. “It’s so romantic, don’t you think?”

Patsy leaned out to get a better view of Jessica’s latest victim. Ruthann stood near the hostess station, searching the restaurant’s interior.

Patsy’s eyes narrowed. Traitor. What was she doing here with Jessica? She knew Patsy was coming with Glenn, and what about Randy? Why waste a romantic restaurant on trash like Jessica? Trampy trash.

Of course Patsy was here with Glenn, and that wasn’t romantic, but it was business and a celebration. They had every reason to go somewhere nice. Ruthann and Jessica could have stuck to the Hut.

Male laughter caused Trash and Traitor to swing around. Randy and Will walked up behind them.

“Should we get a seat?” In khaki pants and a polo shirt, Will looked dressed up compared to the other diners. He held his arm out to Jessica, who smiled and grabbed onto it like he was the last lifeline on the Titanic.

Patsy’s nails scraped the white tablecloth.

“I was just telling Ruthann how romantic this place is.” Jessica pressed her already compressed breasts against his arm.

Patsy gripped the edge of the table till her fingers turned white.

“Are you ready to order?” A black-aproned woman with bleached hair and a crooked smile poured water into Glenn and Patsy’s glasses.

“What’s good?” Glenn asked.

Patsy wasn’t hungry. She picked up her glass and stared at the two couples waiting at the front, focusing in particular on every treacherous movement of the front pair. Will was on a date with Jessica—a romantic date. Jessica laughed at something he said, and Patsy’s fingers tightened around the stem of her water glass.

“Patsy,” Glenn placed a cool hand on hers. “What do you want to eat?”

Patsy jerked her hand away, sending water flying across the table and onto Glenn’s face. The back of his head collided with the back of the booth in a disturbing thud. Horrified, Patsy jumped from her seat. The glass whirled off the table, spinning, end over end, the last few drops of ice water splattering their server, Patsy, and the floor in its dizzying journey. All eyes focused on Patsy as the glass crashed in a jagged mess a foot from her deceitful friends.

“So, you not ready to order?” The waitress flipped a sliver of goblet off her toe.

Patsy shook her head and attempted to become one with the booth, but the foursome had already sighted her. A small smile flitted across Jessica’s perfectly made-up face.

“Patsy, we didn’t know you were going to be here.” She sailed toward their table, towing a pale Will behind her. Ruthann and Randy were close behind.

“Hey, Patsy.” Her traitorous best friend risked a weak smile.

Patsy flicked an ice cube off the table, and watched with satisfaction as it soared toward Will. Almost instinctively, his hand shot up and snatched it out of the air.

“Sorry,” Patsy said with a complete lack of sincerity.

o0o

The ice cube melted in his fist. He held it, letting it melt and dribble through his fingers. What was Patsy doing here? And who was she with? Was she on a date? She couldn’t be. Ruthann would have known if Patsy had a date and where they were going. She wouldn’t have suggested the same place, would she?