Likes children (and not just because he thinks you do)
(The List. Number 8)
N
o one had warned me that Friday was payday at Whiley Implements. There was a line waiting outside the Cut and Curl when I skipped downstairs. I had three walk-ins before I finally figured out why business was so brisk at the salon and that was because one of the women asked me to cash her check so she could get her hair cut.
I hesitated, not sure if Bernice made a practice of this. When the rest of the women lined up by the window noticed me staring at the check, they all came to her rescue and set me straight. Bernice
did
cash payroll checks but only the first two or three—then she’d remind everyone the Cut and Curl wasn’t a bank and she’d pencil them in while they went to the drive-thru.
Payday turned the salon into a gathering spot for women who hadn’t had time to pamper themselves for two weeks. There were kids playing tag around my shampoo chair and by noon I’d made three pots of coffee.
At the end of the day, just when I was getting ready to indulge in some possible
first date
scenarios, Annie Carpenter, the youth pastor’s wife, burst in. Her hair was in two loose Laura Ingalls Wilder braids and the yellow sundress she was wearing made her look like a daffodil.
I hadn’t seen her since the gift opening on Sunday. I’d been thinking about her, though, because Bernice had made me promise I’d keep an eye on her over the summer. Annie was a first-time mom and having
two
babies had to be an adjustment. I’d loved Annie the minute I’d met her, which had been at Faith Community Church the day
after
I’d met Bernice for the first time. Bernice had told me later she’d never set foot in a church until that morning. It was through Annie and Elise’s influence that Mama B had become a Christian, but she’d also said it had had a lot to do with the message I’d left on her answering machine. Which made me think of another one of Grandma Lowell’s favorite sayings.
God’s timing may not match ours, but it’s always perfect.
“You’re twin-less,” I said as Annie wrapped me in a hug. She smelled like a combination of baby powder and men’s cologne, probably from snuggling with her favorite three people.
“Stephen took the afternoon off so I could sneak out for an hour. When I left, he was practicing his Sunday school lesson on the twins, but he wanted me to invite you over for dinner after church on Sunday. He’s going to grill chicken and I’m practicing potato salad this week.”
Practicing potato salad?
“That sounds great. What can I bring?”
“We got an ice-cream maker on our last anniversary,” Annie said. “The old-fashioned kind. I’ll buy the ingredients if you figure out how it works.”
The phone rang and I leaped toward the counter to answer it. That’s another thing Bernice had forgotten to warn me—the boss and only employee of the Cut and Curl—about. I didn’t know how she made it through the number of appointments scheduled in a day with the phone ringing constantly.
“Cut and Curl.”
“You sound like you own the place,” a teasing voice said.
“Mama B!” I’d been wondering if she’d call. I’d been dying to check in on her but she
was
on her honeymoon so I’d resisted the temptation. “Where are you?”
“I don’t even want to tell you. It’s too embarrassing.”
“Can you see the Eiffel Tower?”
“Uh-huh.”
I looked past Annie and saw Prichett’s water tower in the distance. It was shaped like a giant Q-tip. For some strange reason, I didn’t feel the least bit envious.
“Guess who’s here? Annie.” I said I was impulsive. Sometimes I even answered my own questions.
“Is that Bernice?” Annie crowded into my personal space but I didn’t mind. All of us—Elise, Annie, Bree and I—missed Bernice already and she hadn’t even been gone a week. I held the phone away from my ear so we could share the conversation.
“Hi, Annie. I’m glad you’re there because I have a confession. I shipped Nathaniel and Joanna some things.”
“From France?” The wonder in Annie’s voice made me smile.
“Yes, France. And I think there’s something from London, too. I’m losing track.”
“Bernice, you can’t spoil them like that.” Annie made a face at the phone.
“Yes, I can. And we haven’t been to Italy or Greece yet. I found a silk scarf for Esther today. If I tuck it into the next outgoing batch, will you make sure she gets it?”
Esther Crandall lived in the Golden Oaks Nursing Home. Another one of Bernice’s friends I’d promised to check on over the course of the summer.
“Sure. Now I’m going to back out of this conversation so you and Heather can talk.” Annie made a kissing noise into the phone and handed it back to me.
“How did you survive Mrs. Kirkwood?” Bernice wanted to know.
“I think the wounds are finally healing.”
Bernice laughed. “I knew you’d charm her.”
“Charm her?”
“Did she schedule another appointment?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“There you go.”
We talked a few more minutes and I told her about horseback riding with Bree and Marissa’s haircut and Jared Ward coming to town. Bernice may not have raised me, but her next question proved that her Mom Alert was completely functioning. And set on high.
“Jared Ward? What’s he like?”
Since I knew I’d have this exact conversation with Mom over the weekend, I figured I might as well practice. “He’s about twenty-three or twenty-four.”
“Really?”
Is he good-looking?
Three…two…one…
“What does he look like?”
Close enough. “He looks a little like Orlando Bloom.”
With a motorcycle.
“Denise told him he could stay in your apartment for the summer.”
“What!”
“It’s all straightened out.” I probably should have mentioned that first. “He’s living in Marissa’s garage instead.”
I heard Bernice whispering something to Alex. Maybe she was asking him to hire a private investigator to check into Jared’s background. She and Alex could probably split the cost with Mom and Dad!
“Mama B, I should go now. It’s almost closing time.”
“Right. It’s Friday night.” Bernice sounded a bit wistful.
“What happens on Friday night?” I asked eagerly. Maybe there was something about Friday nights in Prichett I didn’t know yet.
“Nothing that doesn’t happen during the rest of the week,” Bernice admitted. “It’s nice to know that life in Prichett doesn’t change, but I suppose it’s going to be too quiet for you this summer. You’re used to a lot more choices.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her just before we said goodbye. I
wanted
quiet. Prichett was my Go square. It was eight weeks of security before I stepped into my life. I’d traveled around Europe with a close friend and I’d lived apart from my parents for almost a year, but things felt different now. Even though I knew my family would always be there for me, I was going to be the one making decisions now. Like what to do with the rest of my life. The whole idea gave me a queasy feeling.
Out of the corner of my eye I watched Annie smiling blissfully as she smelled samples from a new line of shampoo I’d received earlier in the week. She was only five years older than me and already had five years of marriage under her belt. And she’d brought twins into the world.
I felt my twinge of envy bloom a little. Annie was off the Go square and moving happily down her God-chosen path. She was a wife and mother and, from what Bree told me, a mentor to the teenage girls in Stephen’s youth group.
I was twenty-one and when it came to life, my major was still undeclared.
I’m listening, God! You point the way and I’m so there.
“Go ahead and pick your favorite,” I told Annie. “You can tell me if it works.”
She slipped one into the pocket of her dress and gave it a friendly pat. “Remember, Sunday after church.”
“I’ll be there.”
Annie left and I turned my attention to the cash register. Money—the collecting and the disbursing of it—wasn’t my gift. Another life lesson learned the hard way at the Fun Fruit Factory. I’d told Jared I was done with work at five o’clock, but we hadn’t made any plans beyond that. Was he going to call? Was he going to stop by the apartment?
I heard a low purr outside and when I glanced up, Jared’s motorcycle was parked right outside. He waved a helmet at me.
I swallowed my gum.
“I have to run up and change.” They were the first words I could string together when he walked in.
“Oh, I don’t think you need to change a thing.”
Were there guys who could actually get away with lines like that? Yes, there were. And I soaked up the compliment like toner in a cotton ball.
Jared sat down in one of the squishy plastic chairs by the window and stretched out his legs. I counted the change in the till. For the third time.
“Marissa mentioned you’re here for the summer.”
“I’m helping out my…Bernice…while she’s on her honeymoon.” My relationship with Bernice and Alex was too complicated to explain to someone I’d just met. I was still protective of it. It was like a poem I wanted to finish before I could share it with someone else.
“So what else can you do? Besides cut hair?”
The question nudged me off balance. Was he wondering if I knew how to do a spiral perm or a French manicure? Or was he looking for something deeper?
“Let’s see. I can actually make a piecrust from scratch—my grandmother would disown me if I bought the kind you
unfold
. I can play Mozart on the piano. And I can walk on my hands but since I haven’t tried that since summer camp, you’re just going to have to take my word for it.”
Sounding a bit defensive, aren’t you, Heather?
Jared pretended to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “Wow. All that and she’s beautiful, too. Let’s find out if you can paddle a canoe.”
Our Friday night adventure to Marley Creek lasted less than fifteen minutes. We didn’t even get the canoe in the water. The mosquitoes were hungry and saw an opportunity to devour the two unsuspecting outsiders that had naively wandered into their territory. As we raced back to the motorcycle, I wondered if anyone had thought of creating a designer perfume that included Deet. If not, I had first dibs.
“Plan B?” I shouted over his shoulder as he revved up the engine.
“You pick this time.”
We ended up at Sally’s Café just as Sally was about to close for the night. Jared talked her into staying open a few more minutes so he could ease the pain of the mosquito bites with a chocolate shake. She made the shakes and then kicked us out into the street.
“I need to sit down.” Even the most comfortable shoes had an expiration date and I’d been on my feet for almost ten hours.
“I have a really great couch that looks like a sea serpent. It’s got to be at least twenty feet long and the fabric is this weird, shiny green. Vintage seventies’ rec room. I hauled it out of Marissa’s basement this afternoon.”
I wasn’t really paying attention. My brain had stalled right after the word
couch
. He wanted me to go back to his…garage.
It wasn’t that Jared gave off any creepy vibes that made me feel uncomfortable to be alone with him. I’d already learned a lot about him in the past few hours. He loved city life and was hoping to end up in New York or L.A. He described himself as a sculptor but eventually wanted to own a gallery. He moved with restless energy and talked with his hands. And he talked more than I did. He wasn’t anything like the guys I’d met in the YAC group. His plans…his world…seemed
bigger
. I was surprised at how much I wanted to keep listening to him. Wanting to listen instead of talk—this was a first for me.
“The couch sounds great but I’ve been inside all day.” I suddenly developed an annoying stammer. “Why don’t we find a bench in the park instead?”
Jared stared at me for a second, then shrugged. “Sure.”
We crossed the street to the park, Prichett’s miniature version of a green space.
“This playground equipment is new. My friend’s mom won the Proverbs 31 pageant last fall and the prize was a donation to her favorite charity. With the money, they replaced the slide and some of the swings. Bree told me the Boy Scouts might build a gazebo this summer, too.” I sounded like a bad tour guide.
“Any idea where Junebug is going to go?”
“By the drinking fountain over there. For maximum exposure.”
“I was hoping I’d have a little more creative input about the sculpture. I’m still hoping I can convince Marissa to get the committee to change their minds about a cow.” Jared’s foot suddenly shot out to stop a ball that came skipping toward us. With an apologetic grin, he kicked it back to the kids and then joined them in a game that looked like a no-rules cross between soccer and football.
He liked kids. This happened to be on The List. Come to think of it, so was outgoing. And creative. Character-
list
-ics were popping up everywhere and I’d only known him a few hours. I cupped my hands over my face so I wouldn’t hyperventilate.