The Prince Charming List (24 page)

“Jared, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before, but all that God-stuff? It
is
my center.”

“W
here do you want this, Heather?” Kaylie staggered into the salon, her arms wrapped around a suitcase-size cardboard box. I rushed over to help her.

Too heavy for crepe paper. “What’s in it?”

“I have no idea. Denise said she found these in the basement and we could give them out as prizes.” Kaylie turned her head and sneezed.

“I think Denise is unloading her entire inventory on us,” I grumbled. The week before, she’d sent over a box of something she’d referred to as
decorations
. Definitely a stretch. When Kaylie and I had looked inside, it was overflowing with bunches of artificial purple grapes, attached to plastic leaves that were a sickly shade of yellow, as if the grapes had been attacked by a nasty blight. I would’ve rejected them even if our theme for Junebug’s unveiling were An Afternoon in Tuscany instead of Art in the Park. It wasn’t very catchy but it was better than Junebug Day, which Lester had been pushing for.

“Any guesses?” Kaylie put the box on the floor and grinned up at me.

“Giant pencils with tassels on the ends? Erasers shaped like monkeys?”

“I’ll vote for the monkeys.” Kaylie ripped off the packing tape and pulled back the flaps. “Ta-da!”

We both stared into the box, momentarily mesmerized by the gleam of gold.

“Ah, are those…elephants?”

“I think they’re aardvarks.”

“Aardvarks?” I pulled a plastic-wrapped figurine out of the box and studied it. It might have looked like solid gold, but it was so lightweight it had to be plastic. Whatever it was, it sat proudly on a matching gold base.

“It has to be an elephant. Look at its trunk.”

“I guess so.” Kaylie still didn’t sound convinced.

I looked closer. Across the bottom of the stand, in block letters, were the words
THE BESS.
I pitched over onto my side and laughed like a hyena with a few uncontrollable snorts thrown in.

“What are you…” Kaylie started to say, and suddenly she was twitching on the floor next to me.

Thank goodness it was Annie who walked in and found us like that. Anyone else would have dialed 911. She made sure the contents of the box weren’t something the feds needed to check out, and joined us on the floor.

I was the first one to recover. “Who do you suppose Bess is?”

“An aardvark?” Kaylie asked, which started the whole thing all over again.

“What are these
for?
” Annie gasped. “And can I have one?”

“Denise sent them over as prizes for Art in the Park day.”

“I heard about that. Candy asked Stephen if the youth group could oversee the dunk tank that day.”

I hated to contradict her. “We don’t have a dunk tank.”

Annie gave me a sympathetic pat on the knee. “Yes, you do.”

I groaned. After two weeks of working with the PAC, I was beginning to see a pattern. The members of the committee worked, both individually and in pairs, to create chaos and my role, as chairman, was to chase along behind them and straighten things up.

The chaos had started with Amanda and Sally, who wanted the food served that day to be elegant. Now they were caught up in a feud with someone named Ed, who rolled out his portable hot dog stand for every town event. I, as chairman, was expected to be the mediator. Marissa had warned me when Ed, “the hot dog man,” was going to come to the next PAC meeting. Whenever he’d shown up in the past, he’d dressed up like a giant ketchup bottle. I was already bracing myself for flashbacks.

Annie turned to Kaylie. “I ran into your mom at the grocery store and she mentioned you were working today. We’re having a special speaker come in for our youth rally next week and I need someone to make sure things run smoothly that night. Interested?”

Kaylie hesitated. I knew she and Annie had been meeting the past two weeks for prayer and I’d seen a real change in the way she interacted with people who came into the salon—but I had a feeling the Cut and Curl had become a safety net for her. Even when she wasn’t working, she came in to straighten up the back room, check the inventory or restock the candy drawer.

“Think about it.” Annie saw the expression on Kaylie’s face and backed off. That’s one thing I loved about Annie. Her ability to look into someone’s eyes and read what was in their heart.

“Who’s the speaker?” I asked, easing my way into the silence.

“Someone named Tony Gillespie,” Annie said. “From what Stephen said, he’s in high demand as a speaker, but he only accepts three speaking invitations a year.”

“How did you and Stephen end up getting him to come to Prichett?” I loved Faith Community Church, but it was a small church—not exactly the kind that drew big-name speakers.

“Dex knows him. He’s been helping Stephen get everything set up.”

Maybe that explained why Dex had been a no-show at the apartment for the past two weeks. The day after he’d taken me up in Lester’s plane, I’d come home and found the bookshelf upright and in the corner where it belonged. I’d checked Haggai but there were no new updates. It was weird, but I’d gotten used to having Dex around, messing up my life. Leaving notes in my Bible. Falling asleep on my couch.

Annie stood up and brushed off the knees of her jeans. “It’s been fun laughing hysterically with you girls, but I’ve got to get back to the nest.”

Kaylie caught up to Annie at the door. “I’ll help you.”

I gave God an imaginary high five.
Yes
.

“Great. Next Wednesday. Be at church by five.” Annie smiled at me over Kaylie’s shoulder. “You can come, too, Heather. Technically this is for the youth, but bring a pan of brownies and I’ll make you an official part of the kitchen crew.”

“I’ll try.” Between working at the salon and organizing Art in the Park, I hadn’t had much free time. But I was curious about Tony Gillespie, especially knowing that Dex had been instrumental in getting him to come to Prichett. Maybe Tony was a missionary with the organization that Dex would be working for. Flying planes. Who would have thunk it?

“She’ll be there.” Kaylie tossed a look at me. “She won’t be able to help herself.”

Brownies aside, she was right. My natural curiosity was going to get the best of me. Argh. Was I that transparent?

Annie’s laughter followed her out the door.

I went back to the counter and put a line through one of my afternoon appointments, which had canceled because her daughter’s monarch butterfly was about to hatch and they were videotaping it. “Are you ready for lunch yet?”

“It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?” Kaylie looked a little nervous and I didn’t blame her. Thai Tuesday hadn’t taken off, leaving Sally and Amanda poring over the world atlas to come up with another theme. The book club had gotten in on it, too, and come up with a creative alternative.

“’Talian Tuesday.”

“Talia? Where’s that? And what kind of food is it?”

“It’s short for
I
talian, which means all-you-can-eat spaghetti and meatballs. And they have it to go.”

“I’ll be right back.” Kaylie grabbed her purse and took off.

“Bread sticks!” I shouted just as the door shut.

I straightened the pile of magazines, checked the level of coffee in the coffeepot and wiped out the sinks. The phone wasn’t ringing off the hook—maybe because the spies Candy had planted on the roofs of Main Street had seen Kaylie walking down the sidewalk to the café.

The door opened and I turned around.

“Do you have time for a walk-in?” Jared stood just inside the door.

I sucked in a breath and then let it out again. Slowly. “You want me to cut your hair?”

“The Buzz and Blade is closed. There’s a note on the door saying something about a goat that let a bunch of cows out of the barn.” I could tell by the gleam in his eyes he was hoping Junebug was one of them.

“That messed up my morning, too,” I deadpanned. “And the monarch butterfly that’s about to hatch.
National Geographic
is filming it.”

Jared wandered in. He hadn’t called me since the day we’d talked on Marissa’s roof. Thirteen days ago. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d seen that chasm open up between us.

“Kaylie went to get us some lunch, but she won’t be back for a while because Amanda’s drafted her into being their dessert taste-tester.”
Rambling again, Heather.

“Where do you want me?” Jared thrust his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Sitting next to me in church on Sunday morning?
Did I say that out loud? No, thank goodness.

“Over here.” I patted the back of the chair.

He sat down and tilted his head to look up at me. “I miss you, Heather.”

I knew what he meant. I didn’t spend my spare time scoping out the alley for Jared-sightings (well, maybe a few times when I was emptying the recyclables) but he was good company. “Yeah. I kind of miss you, too. Have a seat. Because of the butterfly, I have time for you.”

“I hope so.”

Our eyes met in the mirror.

“I know I’m not high on your list right now…” Jared began.

Oh, you have no idea how high you are…

I squashed the thought mid-sigh. That was another thing unexpected alone time had accomplished. If I ever found The List, I was going to throw it away. Flush it. Incinerate it. Whatever. I’d come to the conclusion that if I could trust God with my future, I could trust Him to know exactly what I needed in a husband. I’d take that step by step, too, and listen for Him to whisper (or shout) the guy’s name in my ear when the time was right.

“But I still want to hang out with you. We don’t have to pick out towels together or anything, maybe hang out together. Go for an occasional ride.”

Do you think you, your ego and I will all fit on your motorcycle?

Mean, Heather. I scolded myself. It’s not like I was perfect. “I’d like that.”

Jared looked relieved. He stretched out his legs as I fumbled with the spray bottle. “By the way, I heard a rumor yesterday.”

“Just one?” Must have been a slow day for the grapevine.

“Someone said you were related to Alex Scott, the actor. That you’re, like, his daughter.” There was laughter in his voice and he looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to deny it.

I exhaled, wincing at the sharp pain that rolled along with it. “That would be the truth.”

Jared’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Seriously?”

Fleetingly, I wondered who’d told him. We’d been seen together enough that someone might have mentioned it, thinking Jared already knew. “It’s true.”

“I can’t believe you’re even thinking of staying in this one-horse town. You could be working on location somewhere. Traveling. Club hopping with the rich and famous.”

I stared at him. Never in a million years had I considered asking Alex to find me a job. “I’d never use Alex like that.”

“Don’t think of it as using him. Besides, he must have walked out on you, right? He owes you something.”

There was no way I was going to share my story with Jared. My hands were shaking and I knotted my fingers together. “I wouldn’t feel right about doing that.”

“This is where your religion clouds your thinking.” Jared gave me a
poor deluded Heather
look. “When you see an opportunity, you should take it.”

“How did you want me to cut your hair?”

He looked irritated that I’d changed the subject. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

I picked up the scissors, lopped off his ponytail and handed it to him. Jared squawked and sprang out of the chair.

“What did you do that for?”

“I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“H
eather—are you listening?”

I hadn’t been but I couldn’t admit it. Not when everyone around the table was staring at me. The regular PAC meeting was scheduled for next week, but I’d called an emergency session to finalize some details for Art in the Park.

“One more time?” I scribbled on the piece of paper in front of me, pretending I’d been taking notes. Note taking was more acceptable than daydreaming.

“What are you going to do about Ed?” Candy asked, as if Ed “the hot dog man” Bonnewicz wasn’t standing in the corner as stiff as the Tin Man in the
Wizard of Oz,
listening to every word we said.

I smiled at him. “We’re glad you could make it, Mr. Bonnewicz.”

His left eye started to twitch when everyone’s attention turned to him. Tall and gaunt, with wire-rimmed glasses and a handlebar mustache, he reminded me of someone in a Norman Rockwell painting. Minus the ketchup suit.

“This is a special event we’re having in the park,” Candy barked at him. “Special events call for special circumstances.”

“My grandfather donated that park to the town, so I’ve got the right to sell my hot dogs at every goings-on there.” Ed’s foam cap jiggled with indignation.

“We’re trying to make this event a little more…” Sally tried to find the right word.

“Upscale,” Amanda said helpfully.

“And we’re catering the luncheon from Sally’s,” Denise said.

I knew this meant Sally and Amanda were
carrying
the finger sandwiches and miniature cream puffs from the café to the park.

“But we
want
you to sell hot dogs, Mr. Bonnewicz,” I interrupted.

“We do?”

“You do?”

Amanda, Sally and Ed’s voices bumped together.

“Sure we do, but keeping our theme in mind—” I ignored Denise, who raised her eyebrows and mouthed the words
what theme
at Candy “—we were picturing you in, oh, a white vest and a snazzy red bow tie. Maybe even some
spats
.”

Ed looked down at his feet, encased in gigantic red slippers. “Debonair. Mmm.”

I gave Amanda a meaningful look and she stepped up to the plate.

“That’s right.” Amanda nodded vigorously. “The ketchup costume just doesn’t make the most of your…physique.”

Denise made a face and pushed the brownies away.

Ed looked thoughtful now, even with his cheeks stained as red as the suit he was wearing. “I suppose if that artist can get his hair cut and make himself look
respectable,
I can, too.”

I started to choke but no one noticed.

“We need to vote on it.” Denise crossed her arms and there was a chorus of agreement.
Now
they wanted to follow the rules.

“Fine. All those in favor of Ed in spats, say aye,” Candy bellowed.

It was unanimous. Even Denise voted yes. When I raised my eyebrows at her, she smiled. “We have to keep things democratic here.”

I was suddenly very tired.

“Everyone has their to-do list. We’ll have another meeting next week. Adjourned.” I started to gather up my notes and Marissa leaned closer.

“You didn’t have anything to do with the artist’s respectable haircut, did you?”

“Please don’t ask me that.”

Jim Briggs must have overheard our conversation, because he winked at me. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

I had no idea what he meant by that. I’d have to remember to ask Bernice.

I was sure I’d turned the lights off in the apartment when I left but as I got closer to the building, I could see a glow behind the curtains in the living room. Maybe Dex was back, working on an unscheduled project. Like regrouting the bathroom tile. Or tearing out a wall.

I nudged open the door an inch. “Dex?”

“Where have you been?” The door flew open; I was yanked inside and hugged to death.

“Mama B?”
Smothered against her shoulder, I saw Alex standing by the window, giving us some space for our reunion. He was smiling at me while he waited for his turn. “What are you guys doing back so soon?”

“When you’ve seen one ancient ruin, you’ve seen them all,” Bernice sniffled. “You look great. Doesn’t she look great, Alex?”

“I’m too far away to tell.”

I held out my arm and Alex moved into the circle. His hug wasn’t as exuberant as Bernice’s but I could feel the strength in his arms as they went around me. And the love. Tears spilled onto my cheeks.

“You should have warned me.”

“I know, I would have killed someone if they’d done this to me.” Bernice laughed. “But you surprised me that time, if you remember. I owe you one.”

“How could I forget?”

Arms wound together, we stumbled over to the couch like we were competing in the three-legged race at the Fourth of July Frolic. Snap immediately leaped into Bernice’s lap and began padding up and down her leg, purring madly.

“I was at a PAC meeting,” I told them. “If I’d known you were coming, I would have scheduled it for another night.”

“
You
scheduled it?”

“It was an emergency meeting because of the hot dog man. I’m in charge of Art in the Park—Junebug’s big unveiling ceremony.” I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t mention Jared. I wasn’t ready to talk about him yet. “Overall, things are pretty much the way they were when you left.”

“I love that.” Bernice sighed deeply and looked around. “How did the carpenter work out? It looks like he’s been busy around here.”

“The carpenter? Oh, you mean
Dex
. First of all, he’s a missionary,
not
a carpenter. But he did pretty well.”
If I didn’t count the poisonous vapors from the floor varnish, Snap’s mysterious disappearance and my missing faucet.

There was a tap on the door and when I opened it, Candy was there. “I saw the car parked outside. Figured it had to be
his
.”

She peered over my shoulder.

“They’re back. Come on in.” I stepped to the side and heard Bernice’s squeal of delight.

Within the next half hour, Elise, Sam and Bree showed up. Then Sally, with two banana cream pies, and Denise, followed by Marissa a few minutes later, wearing a flowered robe that looked like a kimono. When Stephen and Annie came in with the twins, though, it was like Christmas morning. I perched on the arm of the chair, watching Bernice cuddle Nathaniel as everyone talked over each other. Alex, Sam and Stephen found an empty corner and held up the wall while they talked.

“So how’s the town been?” Bernice asked. “It’s hard to tell when it’s sleeping.”

“There’ve been a few changes.” Candy’s eyes met mine. I sucked in a breath and waited. “For the better, I’d say.”

Sally nodded. “You’ll have to try my coffee, Bernie. People say it’s better than yours.”

Bernice and Alex stopped in to see me at the salon the next morning, but eventually Alex was squeezed out by the continuous stream of women who’d heard through the grapevine that Bernice was back.

“I’m going to try Sally’s coffee. I’ll be back.” He tried to escape but Mrs. Kirkwood walked in and blocked his path. She pulled a dainty handkerchief out of her purse, rubbed the lenses on her bifocals and balanced them on the end of her nose.

“You look younger on television.”

“Ah…thank you.” Someone opened the door and Alex made a break for it.

Mrs. Kirkwood presented Bernice with a foil pan. “It’s about time you stopped skipping around the world and came home. You’re too old for that kind of nonsense. Here. I made you some cloverleaf rolls.”

“That’s so sweet, Mrs. Kirkwood—”

“Don’t eat too many. On your type of figure, they go straight to the hips.”

I heard Kaylie gasp. She probably wondered if she was next in line for the firing squad. She’d already had her stress quota filled for the day when Bernice and Alex had walked in just after we opened. I inched in front of Kaylie, offering myself as a sacrifice, just in case. My pitiful attempt to shield Kaylie backfired. Mrs. Kirkwood marched up to me.

“Mrs. Kirkwood, would you like a cup of coffee?” Bernice tried to distract her, too, but the elderly woman waved her away like she was a pesky fly.

“You know I get heart palpitations just sitting next to that coffeepot.” She took a step to the side and so did I, blocking her view of Kaylie.

Kaylie’s confidence had been growing the past few weeks but one word from Mrs. Kirkwood could inflict enough damage to send her to the back room for the next five years.

Kaylie eased out from behind me before I could stop her. “Hi, Mrs. Kirkwood.”

“The proper way to greet someone in a business establishment is with a
good morning
or a
good afternoon
.” Mrs. Kirkwood glowered at Kaylie but she responded with a grin.

“I’ll remember that, Mrs. Kirkwood.”

“Be sure that you do.” She swung around and Bernice and I both ducked. “Next Thursday, eight o’clock.”

After she left, Kaylie disappeared into the back room, just like I was afraid she would. When I followed her, she was standing by the candy drawer, her eyes wide. “She was mean to me.”

I was about to apologize but I noticed Kaylie was still grinning. Maybe it was Kirkwood-induced post-traumatic stress syndrome. “Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s mean to everyone.”

“I know.” She still looked like the Cheshire cat.

I was missing something here. Kaylie must have seen my confusion. “She treated me like she does everyone else.”

“Kaylie, I’m not sure that’s a reason to smile.”

“Oh, yes it is. It means she doesn’t feel sorry for me.” Kaylie handed me a piece of chocolate. “Eat this, Heather. You look a little pale.”