More Than Words: Stories of Hope (18 page)

Forest tugged Joey forward, his gaze darting from group to group. Geez, was he really scouring the area for a simple glimpse of Anna?

Yep.
He sure was.

Then he found her. She stood behind a table, clipboard in hand, directing the flow of activity. The sun glinting off her hair and the pencil tucked behind her ear. Forest’s grip tightened around the twine binding his stack of newspapers.

They’d made it through their first week together with ease. Anna fit into his life so well it scared him. But people in town reminded him of the intense passion she’d shown for her various causes over the years—a passion that sometimes landed her on the wrong side of the law.

He welcomed the reminder. These people had known Anna longer than he had. It was tough seeing her smile when Joey brought her a flower. Hearing her laugh as they watched Joey soar down a slide.

Feeling the air crackle when they accidentally brushed against each other.

But right now, he needed to turn in his contribution to the recycling drive. Glancing down at his son, Forest straightened Joey’s train conductor cap. “How about a treat? They’ve got cookies and juice.”

“Cookies?”

“You bet. A whole tableful.” Right next to Anna.

There wasn’t any need to beat himself up about joining in the recycling effort. He had just as much right to be at the drive as anyone else. Like a good friend, he was supporting Anna’s pet project. Why then did he feel like a teenager changing his route between classes so he could catch a glimpse of the new girl in school?

Joey tipped his ear to listen more closely, then a smile illuminated his round face. “Anna!”

He yanked his father’s hand, pulling him toward the sound of her chiming laugh. With his other hand he waved the piece of newspaper he held. “Anna! I brought a ’cycling for you!”

Anna looked up from her clipboard. A grin spread over her face, brighter than the sun glistening off the asphalt as she took his lone flyer. “Hey there, Joey. What’s this?”

“A recycling paper.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a mangled dandelion. He lifted it toward her the way Forest had seen her do when Joey and Anna were playing
“Name That Flower.” Except Joey waggled it closer to her chin than her nose. “And a flower!” he announced.

“Oh, what a charmer you are!” Anna knelt eye level and received her presents as if they were bounty from a knight. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, sweetie, these are absolutely the best gifts ever.”

Forest lifted his neatly bundled stack. If Joey got a kiss for a scrap of paper, how would she react to a week’s worth of
The New York Times?
“Joey and I wanted to do our part.”

Joey gripped the edge of the table, stretching up on tiptoe. “Where’s the cookies?”

Anna looped an arm around his waist and hoisted him level with the table so he could smell the cookies while she patiently identified each one. Finally, he settled on peanut oatmeal raisin. “Help yourself. There’re plenty more.”

Forest lifted his bundle of papers. “Where should I put these?”

She glanced over, her smile widening. “Toss them into the marked bin. We’ll get a total weight at the end of the day.”

If he got such a pulse-kicking smile for a measly week’s worth of
The New York Times
and some old issues of
Sports Illustrated
, he could hardly wait to see her reaction to his bag of milk jugs.

Geez, he was worse now than during his teenage year when he’d tried to win her over with candy and meals out. “How much do you expect to raise today?”

“Not a whole lot. But that’s not the point. If we earn enough
to add a few books to the library while doing our bit for the environment and strengthening the community bond, then it’s worth the effort.”

“Well put.” Forest untied the twine and pitched his offering in with ease. Ready to receive more praise for doing his part in saving natural resources, he pivoted to Anna. “I’ve got some free time this afternoon. As long as Joey cooperates, I’d be happy to help out, if you need an extra pair—”

He stared at the back of her head.

She was already preoccupied answering questions, offering directions to a group of people. He shuffled from one foot to the other, waiting for his turn.

It was an odd thing, being low on her list of priorities. And Forest was seeing a very different side of Anna. She was in her element, the undisputed queen of the day.

Accustomed to thinking of Anna as quirky and unconventional, he was startled to glimpse this smoothly efficient woman. Not even Judge Randall could accuse her of being disruptive today. She directed the whole event, armed only with a pencil and clipboard.

She didn’t need him at all. Here, Anna was the cool, efficient professional, and he was just another guy with a pile of garbage.

M
onday morning, Anna pedaled up Forest’s driveway and parked her bike where he wouldn’t see it when he left. She had a surprise for him, and she didn’t want him spotting it on his way out to work. They both deserved a reward for surviving the past week together.

And he had contributed to her recycling drive.

The image of him striding across the parking lot with his neatly bundled newspapers still warmed her. His offer to help had come as a shock, probably to him as well. He really could be sweet when he dropped the uptight act.

She rapped on the door, shrugging her backpack off her shoulders. No one answered, so she knocked again, harder.
After another minute passed, she stepped halfway inside. “Good morning! Forest? Joey? It’s just me.”

“Hang on, Anna!” Forest shouted. “We’re running late.”

Late? Forest? She breezed into the house, through the masculine living room with its big brown corduroy sofas and chairs, but little else for Joey to trip over. His toys all stayed piled in the same corners so he could find them. A few more steps took her to the breakfast nook.

Forest plowed into the kitchen, briefcase in hand. He scooped Joey up, gripping him by the back of his overalls and carrying him like a lunch box.

Joey squealed, “I’m an airplane! Flying high!”

“In for a carrier landing!” Forest skimmed his son to a stop on the tabletop. “Okay, kiddo. I have to get moving.”

He plopped Joey into his booster chair and glanced over his shoulder at Anna. “Hope you don’t mind feeding him breakfast. We lost track of time playing this morning.”

A single lock of hair brushed his brow, just tapping the top of his glasses.

“Anna?”

“Huh?” She’d been totally focused on those baby blues. “Breakfast! Sure, I’d be happy to feed him. Cheese toast, right? No oatmeal.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just thinking about all the money we raised at the recycling drive.”

Anna had to make herself remember why she should keep her distance. Forest was too much like her conservative father. She was a free spirit. She would drive him nuts, and she truly believed this wonderful guy deserved happiness.

Bottom line, she’d had a lifetime of gentle censure from her father. She didn’t want to deal with it in any of her other relationships. Anna blinked back tears.
Think of your plans for Joey today, not Forest.

She had dominoes in her backpack to help Joey work on numbers. He would be able to feel the indentions—almost like reverse Braille. She’d also ordered a few more Seedlings print-and-Braille books, even though he always wanted to end every reading session with
Seymour the Sea Turtle Snaps Up Lunch.
Good thing these books were so affordable because her budget was tight and she hated to ask Forest for money. Whenever she mentioned trying new things with Joey, a look of guilt crossed Forest’s face as he blamed himself for not doing more for his son.

Forest knotted his tie. “I’ve never been to a recycling drive before. You really did a bang-up job organizing it.”

“Thanks.” Why did he have to be so nice?

“Okay. I really do need to go.” He launched into motion again, snapping his briefcase open and dropping files inside. “I
caught up with laundry over the weekend. That isn’t in your job description here and I apologize for taking advantage. There’s plenty of Joey’s favorite juice in the fridge. And he has a new train set he really likes if you want to pull it out. Careful, though, because those pieces hurt like crazy if you step on them barefooted.”

He grabbed the briefcase and his coat.

“Bye, son.” He dropped a kiss on Joey’s forehead, then turned to Anna.

Ohmigosh!
Was he going to kiss her, too? He stood so close, and Anna held her breath. She wanted to kiss him more than she wanted air.

He stepped back.

She must have imagined the whole thing. Good thing he couldn’t see what was inside her head?

“Bye, Anna.”

“Goodbye.” It took every ounce of restraint she had not to smooth that lock of hair back from his forehead. She bit her lip, mumbling, “Nothing in common, nothing in common…”

Forest stopped at the door. “Did you say something?”

“Nothing important.”

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

“Hold still, sweetie!” Anna struggled with the chin strap of the helmet. She hoped she’d bought the right size. The box had
said it would fit a four-year-old. The buckle clicked into place. “There! Ohhh, you look so cute!”

Joey stood in the middle of the kitchen, a neon-blue bicycle helmet in place. His head looked twice the size of his body, kind of like an alien child. He was all set for his first ride in her newly installed kiddy bicycle seat, complete with all the latest safety features.

She’d bought it over the weekend as a gift to herself after learning that hours alone in a house with a four-year-old could give a person an incredible case of cabin fever. Joey could only walk so far. The last thing she needed was more time to sit around and moon over Forest Jameson.

So why was she going to see him for lunch?
Just for Joey
. The little guy would enjoy seeing his daddy. She latched on to the logical explanation with desperation.

“We’re going to have such fun cycling around town today.” She tucked the rest of their lunch in her backpack. “Ready to go? Do you need a potty break first?”

Much as Anna loved the kid, if she didn’t get some adult conversation soon, she’d be a prime candidate for a straitjacket.

“Let’s go see Daddy.” Joey waddled around the kitchen with a wide-legged cowboy swagger.

“Balancing that head must be quite a challenge, huh?” Anna knocked on his helmet. “Time to roll if we want to get that
picnic lunch to your dad before noon. Daddy’s going to be so proud to see his little boy in his very first helmet.”

Twenty minutes later, Anna stowed the bike behind a row of bushes outside Forest’s office and clasped Joey’s hand in hers. “Ready to kidnap your dad, sweetie?”

Her heart beat faster with every step she took toward Forest’s office door. She forced herself to walk slower along the cracked sidewalk, keeping more in step with the leisurely pace of her hometown.

The park loomed at the end of the street. At least she had memories of the time spent there. She was happy in her hometown, and if she wanted to continue to live here, she had to keep her job at the library. That meant no more protests, even if her park became a strip club. She shuddered. There had to be something she could do before time ran out.

Sighing, she pushed through the front door into the reception area of her father’s old office, still featuring the same old-time trio of leather, mahogany and wainscoting.

And the Big-Hair Brigade.

Of course, these weren’t the same women she’d seen in her father’s office over the years, but they were carbon copies, and no fewer than five of them were wedged into the burgundy leather sofa and chairs. Ceiling fans clicked overhead, stirring the scent of furniture polish and hair product. All that gel
should be considered a fire hazard. If anyone lit a cigarette, the whole place could go up in flames.

Anna strolled toward one of the women, an old classmate of hers. “Hi, Shirley.”

Shirley Rhodes stuffed a tube of bubblegum-pink lipstick in her purse. “Good afternoon, Anna.” She glided to her feet and pinched Joey’s cheeks. “You are just the cutest little thing! You look just like your daddy-waddy.”

Joey squirmed away, clinging to Anna.

“Sorry, he’s just shy around strangers.” Anna made a mental note to give Joey three treats later for his loyalty. She turned to the grandmotherly receptionist who used to work for her father before he retired. “Kay, is Forest free?”

Leather crackled as four women scooted to the edge of their seats.

The receptionist glared at them, then gave Anna a genuine smile. “He’s tied up at the moment. But I’ll let him know you and Joey are waiting.”

“Thanks.” Anna set Joey down and watched him scamper over to the receptionist’s desk. He felt his way down the drawers as if counting, until he pulled open the bottom one, where Kay apparently kept toys for him. Once he was settled with a pile of race cars, Anna turned her attention to Shirley. “What brings you here?”

“Another one of those blasted unpaid parking tickets. I don’t
know why I keep forgetting to mail the money. So here I am back in Forest’s, I mean, Counselor Jameson’s office.” Shirley arched her back, making the very most of her chest. “Aren’t we lucky to have such a smart young lawyer in Oscoda?”

“Hmm.”

“Why are you here? Did you handcuff yourself to something else?” Shirley glanced back at her cohorts. Four compacts snapped closed, in synch.

“You heard about that?” A tic started right in the corner of Anna’s eye.

“We’re a small town of caring people,” Shirley answered with ill-disguised insincerity.

Anna knew she should turn and walk away. A mature woman would smile politely and leave. She should ignore the spiteful bimbos and take Joey back to see his daddy-waddy.

Revenge was petty.

Joey tipped his face up from his Tonkas, grinning. She would have sworn his sightless expression said,
Go get ’em, Anna!

If Joey insisted, who was she to argue? A wicked and wonderful plan took shape in her mind. She could help Forest
and
her park without whipping out cuffs.

“Well, Shirley, actually, it’s a rather sensitive matter.” She paused for effect. “It’s about Forest.”

“Forest?”

“Oh, never mind.” Anna pressed a hand to her cheek. “You’re probably not interested in all this.”

She didn’t have a chance to pivot more than halfway around before Shirley grabbed her arm in a death grip.

“Spill it!” Shirley cleared her throat. “I mean, I would love to hear. Poor Forest may need a sympathetic shoulder.”

He would probably asphyxiate on her perfume. “I’m sure he could use some friendly support.”

“Well?”

Anna noticed that she had the attention of all five women and moved in for the kill. “It’s about his park.”

“His park?” Shirley arched a penciled brow.

This was too easy. “Remember the old park by the library?”

They frowned. Okay, maybe not as easy as Anna had thought.

“By the lake.”

The women nodded in unison.

“It’s slated to be a strip club.”

Shirley shrugged. “So?”

Anna exhaled. They must be too busy time-sharing a brain cell—or maybe they actually cared what happened in this town after all. “That’s where Forest’s parents got engaged.”

“Oh!” Shirley’s hand fluttered to her chest. “How romantic.”

“If it weren’t for those oaks, Forest wouldn’t be alive today.” Anna shook her head slowly. The women were hooked. Now to reel them in. “He told me it’s his fondest
wish to find the woman of his dreams and propose beneath those branches.”

“Oh, wow!” Shirley glanced back at her wide-eyed friends.

Anna sighed. “Too bad nobody’s willing to help out with, maybe, marching in a picket line.”

Shirley was first to the door.

Her cohorts weren’t more than two steps behind her. The five frantic women pushed through the entranceway.

The door banged shut behind them.

Anna smirked, dusting her hands. She turned to the receptionist and shrugged. “Well, Kay, I had to clear them out so Joey could have some time with his daddy-waddy.”

Kay winked. “Nice work, kiddo.”

“Is he free yet?”

“He was hiding from the vultures, but I buzzed him when you arrived. He should be out in a minute.” Kay winked. “I’ll have to call you when the next batch flocks in.”

Her stomach constricted. “Next batch?”

“There are plenty more where they came from.” She shrugged. “Word gets around. At least he doesn’t have to worry about ulterior motives with you.”

“Of course not.” She wasn’t like
them
. She’d merely helped Forest, with the side benefit of offering her park another shot at life. She couldn’t have acted out of…jealousy?

Horror-struck, she gulped. “Uh, Kay. I just remembered
something back at home I need to check on.” She reached for Joey. “Come on, sweetie. We’ve got—”

“Kay, are they gone yet?” Forest asked as he stepped from his office. “Hi, Anna. I’m glad you’re still here.” He knelt and ruffled his son’s hair.

He was? Anna stopped breathing. Their faces weren’t more than six inches apart. If she breathed in even a hint of the spicy aftershave he wore, she might very well find herself staking out a spot for herself on the sofa.

She smiled weakly. “We stopped in to take you on a picnic.”

“A picnic?” He looked wary. Was he remembering that almost kiss? With any luck, it would be the fastest lunch hour in history.

More importantly, they needed to finish before Shirley organized her troops.

“I loooove going to Anna’s park,” Joey squealed from atop his father’s shoulders. He grabbed fistfuls of dried leaves from swaying branches while Anna and Forest strolled down Main Street.

Forest clutched Joey’s feet to steady him as they walked past the row of lampposts. What a great small town. He’d have given anything to grow up in a place like this. Of course, that was why he’d chosen it for his son.

He’d almost kissed Anna again this morning at the house. Not some impulsive, hormonal kiss, but one of those “see you
later” kisses. Those were the dangerous sort. They implied an ease with each other that went beyond just attraction.

After this week with Anna, he knew he respected her too much for a fling and he’d vowed he didn’t want to get married again. What a mess.

Still, he owed her so much for all she’d done for him and his son. “Thanks for bringing lunch over.”

“No problem.” She clutched her sweater to her chest, the insulated food sack dangling from her elbow.

“It’s nice to see Joey in the middle of the day.”

“You can come home, you know. You don’t have to hide from me in your office like you do from those other women. I’m not out to cuff you to the altar or anything.”

The determined thrust of her jaw shouldn’t have stung his pride, but it did. “I lose track of time at the computer.”