Magical Weddings (114 page)

“Fine. If you want to run all over God’s green earth tearing up gardens, have at it. I’m done with you.” He heavy-healed it back home. As soon as he opened the back door, the obstinate Airedale crowded in front of him to be the first to go inside.

Glancing over his shoulder at the mess that minutes before had been a well-tended garden, he sighed. Just once he’d like to have a conversation with the bespectacled woman that didn’t involve the tyranny of Bankston. She was a bother yet something about her fascinated him. Maybe it was the way she stood up to him when everything else about her said she was a quiet, gentle spirit. Or maybe it was how she seemed happy despite not having the best of everything. She drove a Chevy Celebrity, for crying out loud. Maybe he was intrigued by Lindy because she appeared to have life figured out. He sure didn’t. Whatever the case, he wasn’t looking forward to explaining what happened to her garden. At the same time he couldn’t wait to see her, even if it would involve her ripping into him. God he was pathetic.

Gunther unsnapped the leash from Bankston and took note of the time. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lindy turned onto Fifth Street and spotted three cars already in the parking lot. The panicked feeling of being late intensified.

Fumbling to unlock the door, she was joined by Kat Millner who grumbled that she needed to get in and get out in a hurry, and Connie Branson who muttered “Mornin’” between sips from her coffee mug. The person in the third car was on the phone.

Lindy flipped on the lights and headed to the counter to boot up the computer.

In the blink of an eye Kat Milner plopped two containers of fish food on the counter, sighed every few seconds and fanned her credit card.

“The computer is taking its good old time populating everything this morning. It must need a jolt of caffeine. Lord knows I do.” Lindy smiled, Kat didn’t. “Okay, here we go.” She ran one of the containers under the laser scanner and hit times two on the register. “That was some storm last night.”

No comment from Kat or any sign she’d heard.

“Was your electricity knocked out too?” Lindy slid a pen and the store copy of the receipt needing a signature, over to Kat.

Scribbling her name, Kat sighed again. “No.”

Lindy dropped the fish food into a bag and offered a bigger smile. “Have a good day.”

Kat said something but the words were an indistinguishable hodgepodge of noise as she flew out the door.

Instead of using a cart, Connie Branson shuffled toward the counter trying to juggle a forty pound bag of premium dog food, a red squeak toy in the shape of a football and her coffee mug.

Lindy ran around to help.

“Grab my coffee mug, quick.”

Catching the mug just as it slipped from Connie’s hand, Lindy grinned. “Bruno’s going to love the football.”

Connie raised her eyebrows and held them in the up position. “I should buy stock in a company that makes pet toys. I’d be farther ahead. I buy Bruno a toy. He plays with it until he gets bored and then chews it to smithereens. I buy another. He destroys it. Vicious cycle.”

They shared a laugh.

Lindy hefted the bag of dog food and carried it outside to Connie’s car.

Connie grinned. “Hold those other two footballs for me if you would. I’ll be back next week to get them.”

Two customers down. One to go. Lindy stepped in the back room to start a pot of coffee.

The bells on the door jingled and Lindy rushed to the front. A teenage girl with piercings in her nose, lip and eyebrows gave the store a quick scan.

“Welcome to Cerise’s. How can I help you?”

The girl snapped her gum. “I’d like to take a look at your spiked dog collars.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t sell spiked collars but we have some nice ones without spikes. What kind of dog do you have?” Lindy wouldn’t judge but she had a feeling the collar wasn’t for a dog.

The girl frowned. “What do you mean you don’t sell spiked collars?”

“The owner isn’t fond of them.”

“Is she here?”

“It’s her day off.” Actually, Cerise hadn’t worked at the store in over three weeks, which was odd. But she was the boss and could take off as much as she wanted. Cerise knew Lindy would work whenever she asked.

Lindy couldn’t resist and asked again about the dog. “What kind of dog did you say you had?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Really?” Dissatisfaction resonated in the form of a loud huff. On her way out, she tried to slam the door. Good thing it was equipped with a slam-door-stop cylinder which prevented the door from closing hard.

Lindy giggled for the first time since she woke up. Now all she needed was a strong cup of coffee and the train would be back on its track.

On her way to the back room she skimmed the poster showing various breeds of dogs. Her attention landed on the picture of an Airedale. Gunther Justin had named his Bankston. “Does the name have anything to do with the fact you work in a bank?” She laughed herself to the coffee pot. If Gunther thought he was lord and master of that dog, he was fooling himself. If anything, it was the other way around. Gunther had on an invisible collar and didn’t know it. Too bad it wasn’t a shock collar. She wouldn’t mind zapping him a couple of times. Although, when he looked at her with those deep blue eyes warmth prickled through her like he dialed her setting to zap. She also got a weird sensation in the pit of her stomach. The first time it happened she blamed it on eating Mexican food. The second time she’d eaten Chinese food. The times after that she hadn’t had anything spicy and it still happened. She’d come to the conclusion Gunther gave her indigestion. Or… “No way.” Lindy shook her head, adamantly refusing to acknowledge she was attracted to him. So he had extraordinary eyes. Big deal. He also had a chip on his shoulder or a serious aversion to nerdy women. Maybe both.

With a steamy cup of coffee Lindy wandered to the counter with Gunther still on her mind. She took a sip and for a second let her penchant for daydreaming take the moment. She imagined sipping coffee and meeting Gunther’s eyes over the edge of the cup.

The bells on the door startled her and she spilled coffee down the front of her shirt. Lindy grabbed a roll of paper towels from beneath the counter and tried to blot the mishap away.

“Are you okay?” A young mother with a set of identical twins stared at her with concern.

“I’m fine.” Lindy was ashamed to have bed-hair and a shirt now stained with coffee. “It’s been one of those mornings.”

“I hear ya. Some mornings they don’t make enough coffee.” The woman laughed. “You know what they say, ‘How goes the morning so goes the day’.”

“Oh Lord, I hope not.” If her day continued the way it began, she’d be seeing Gunther again. She laughed to smother a whimper.

One of the twins diverted the conversation. “Where are the hamsters?”

“Where are the puppies?” The other twin asked.

Lindy smiled. “We have hamsters in the back but no puppies.”

“You don’t have puppies?” The wee one jutted out her bottom lip.

Lindy shared how they worked with the humane society and other animal shelters to hook customers up with rescue animals. If they had a particular kind of puppy in mind she could try to make it happen. The child’s eyes were glazed over as if Lindy was explaining trigonometry or calculus.

The mom met Lindy’s eyes with a smile. “We’re not in the market for a puppy but we’ll have a look-see at those hamsters.”

“Mom! They also have turtles. Can we get a turtle?”

“Hamsters. We’re here for hamsters.”

The jingling of bells indicated another customer. Not just one. Many.

A tall guy in a white hardhat approached the counter with a whisper. “Could I speak with you for a second?”

“Sure.” She motioned him to come around the counter. “What is it?”

The guy looked at the clipboard in his hand. “Is Cerise Stockingten around?”

Lindy noticed the electric company logo on the front of his shirt. “No she isn’t. Can I take a message?”

“I’m here to disconnect the power for an unpaid bill.” He looked around the nearly-full pet store.

Lindy frowned. “That can’t be right. Cerise pays her bills online. Maybe there was a glitch.”

“She’s actually three months behind, ma’am. I doubt it’s a glitch.”

“Three months?” Lindy had a sinking feeling. Was Cerise’s absence from the store in any way tied to this situation? A worse fear permeated Lindy’s psyche–one involving her paycheck, which was direct deposited every two weeks. She hadn’t gone into her account lately but she made a mental note to investigate when she got home. “How much does she owe?”

“Well over a thousand.”

Lindy gulped. “Could I give her a call?”

The guy looked at his watch. “It couldn’t hurt.”

Lindy grabbed the cell phone from her purse and stepped into the back room. “Come on, Cerise, answer.” The call went to voice mail. Huffing with frustration, Lindy sent off a short text:
call me ASAP. Electric company is here to shut off the power
.

“The call went to voice mail but I left a message. When she calls back I’m sure this whole thing will be straightened out. Is there any way I can pay a minimum amount to keep the electricity on?”

“We’ve contacted Ms. Stockingten twice by mail.” He winced. “I’m supposed to shut it off.”

“Please don’t.” She grabbed her checkbook. Paying the bill would drain her account but she couldn’t in good conscience allow the electricity to be turned off. The turtles would be fine but she had to consider the fish and hamsters. “What’s the exact amount?”

Lindy almost threw up when he quoted $1,294.36.
Cerise, you had better
pay back every penny.

“I’m sorry to put you in this position, ma’am.”

“It’s not your fault.” She grudgingly handed him the check.

He tipped his hardhat.

Before Lindy could get her bearings, the store was deluged with more customers needing dog food, cat food, tapeworm tabs, rawhides bones and a slew of other things. A few made appointments to get their pets bathed and clipped. One after another, they came, they bought, they left. Money was in the till but she wouldn’t touch it.

Lunchtime came and went without Lindy getting a bite to eat. By five o’clock, she was hungry and tired, and the muscles across the top of her back were tight. She also had a slight headache from wearing glasses all day. Normally, she popped contacts in right away in the morning and gave her eyes a break at night with glasses.

Stepping outside, the hot July temperature still hovered near ninety. The heat felt good after being cooped up in air conditioning. Despite the heat, she was itching to try out the fire pit she’d built. Her stomach growled at the thought of a wood-fired turkey burger and grilled veggies. At least this time the belly noise was from hunger and not from the weird fascination for her cranky neighbor. Hmm. She owed Gunther a trash can.

****

The email said he’d be interviewed in the morning but it was just after five and he was still waiting. Gunther had skipped lunch so he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to step into Clive Wilks office and dazzle him with confidence. To his dismay, Clive left for lunch and didn’t return until almost three. The interviewing process resumed without him being summoned.

Gunther wondered if Clive was testing his patience or trying to give the appearance the others were in the running when he was actually saving the best for last.

Clive’s secretary opened the door to Gunther’s office. “He’ll see you now.”

This was it. His moment to shine had finally come.

Gunther straightened his suit jacket and entered Clive’s office with a smile.

Clive stuck his hand out for a handshake. “Sorry about the wait, Gun’.”

“No problem.” He took a seat across from the president.

“So here’s the deal.” Clive cleared his throat.

Gunther wasn’t getting you’ve-got-the-job vibes from Clive. He swallowed hard and shifted in the chair.

Clive sat up straight, pulled some papers from a manila folder and proceeded to put Gunther through a gauntlet of questions regarding the bank’s procedures and policies. To each of Gunther’s answers, Clive either nodded or smiled. Finally, he closed the folder and pushed it aside. “You’re a great employee and friend, Gun’, so I’m going to give it to you straight.”

A feeling of foreboding moved Gunther to the edge of the chair. “Thanks, Clive. I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Propping his elbows on the desk, Clive laced his fingers and hit Gunther with a serious look. “You meet all the qualifications, except for one.”

The heat of frustration burned through Gunther. He felt his face redden. “What do you mean?”

“Finndley Savings and Loan is a secure institution but its success is twined tightly with perception. If our customers feel something is amiss they’ll jump to another bank.” Clive snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

“No disrespect, but it’s still not clear what you’re trying to say.”

“Okay, Gun’. Here it is point blank. You’re thirty-four years old and not settled. Not that thirty-four is ancient but you get where I’m going with this, right?”

The comment struck Gunther as ridiculous. “Whaaat?”

“I don’t know how else to say it other than the Board and I feel the new Vice President should convey the three R’s: roots, responsibility and rock-solid.”

Gunther cocked a critical eyebrow. “I’ve worked hard for you for over ten years. I’ve
rooted
myself in place. I’ve shouldered a lot of
responsibility
. And I’ve certainly given you
rock-solid
loyalty.” He could no longer hold back his temper. “Which freaking R am I weak in?”

Clive put up a hand. “Calm down.”

“How am I supposed to calm down? This is my future. If I’ve fallen short in one of the R’s,” he said hotly, “then by god tell me which one.”

“You haven’t fallen short, per se.”

Gunther wanted to throw Clive’s nameplate across the room. “You have yet to be straight with me. Stop dancing around the issue and tell me what’s really at play here.”

Clive sifted air through his teeth. “You’re not going to like it, but the overwhelming majority of Board members want someone who’s married. They feel a husband and/or father has more at stake and won’t take the position for granted. Besides, we expect our Veep to build relationships within the community. I think you’d people’s trust if you were considered off the market. If you get my drift.”