Hooked on You

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Hooked on You Page 4

by Kathleen Fuller


  He was here now, wearing a navy-blue short-sleeved shirt with the Price’s Hardware logo above the shirt pocket, the bottom hem tucked snugly inside a pair of khaki cargo shorts that showed off his sculpted calves. Focus on his face, not his body. But then he flashed her a grin that threatened to weaken her knees.

  Who was she kidding? Her knees were weak. Snap out of it. She should be focusing on the reason she came to see him. Telling herself she needed to apologize for her snippy behavior last night and thank him for picking her up didn’t erase the fact that Hayden Price was flat-out gorgeous.

  “Hey, Riley.” He strolled up to her and slipped his hands in his pockets. “Long time no see.”

  She tried to smile, but she wasn’t in a jovial mood. When she finished sobbing in her grandmother’s arms last night, she discovered Hayden had brought the suitcases inside and placed them by the door, then left without her knowing. She hoped he hadn’t seen her crying. She rarely cried, and the sudden tears last night had shocked her. Seeing her grandmother laid up, in addition to the stress of flying and having to return to Maple Falls under duress, had cracked something inside her. Now her emotional walls were back up, and she wasn’t going to let them crumble again, especially not in front of Hayden.

  “How’s Erma this morning?” he asked.

  “Good.” She tried not to notice the concerned kindness in his gray eyes and shifted her gaze to the carousel of batteries behind him. Why couldn’t she just say she was sorry, thank him for the ride, and dash out of the store like she’d planned?

  “Is she getting around all right? How is she managing those two front porch steps?”

  “She goes through the back. There aren’t any steps there.”

  He nodded. “That’s good to hear. If y’all need me to build a ramp for the porch, I’d be happy to do it.”

  “We’ll be fine.” She faced him, not wanting to linger any longer. “Thank you for the ride last night.”

  Frowning, he pulled his hands out of his pockets. “You don’t have to thank me, Riley. I didn’t mind doing it.”

  Would he have been so eager to pick her up if he hadn’t been responsible for Mimi’s broken leg? Probably not, although she could tell even from their short interactions that he was far too nice to refuse if her grandmother had asked. She glanced around the hardware store again, her thoughts derailing her purpose. Price’s Hardware was as empty as Mimi’s yarn shop had been all morning. Mimi had insisted on going in to work today, even though Riley tried to talk her out of it.

  “Riley?”

  Riley blinked and looked at Hayden again. Apologize to him already. “I’m also sorry that I was so short with you last night.”

  His expression relaxed. “No sweat. I could tell you were tired. Long flights can do that to you. It took me a while to get used to jet lag when I was traveling to away games.” Shrugging, he gazed at her. “Lately the farthest place I’ve been is Little Rock.”

  A shiver went through her. They were just making small talk. But somehow he had moved closer to her without her realizing it, and for a split second she allowed her mind to go back to high school. She suddenly remembered all the times she had noticed him, either sitting at the table across the room from her in art class or walking the halls in school with his fellow jocks and their pretty girlfriends. She remembered all the times she’d wished she had the courage to talk to him. She never saw him with a girlfriend, which only fueled her silly fantasies about the two of them together, and more than once she had pretended she and Hayden were holding hands as he walked her to her next class.

  Quickly she gathered her senses again. This wasn’t high school. Thank God. “Uh, that’s all I wanted to say. Bye.”

  “Riley—”

  She ran out of the store before he could say anything else, then hurried down the sidewalk toward Knots and Tangles. When she was a short distance from Price’s, she stopped, surprised she had to gasp for air. Her face was heated, and not because the morning sunshine mixed with 85 percent humidity made her feel like she was standing in a swamp instead of on the deserted Main Street.

  “That was smooth,” she muttered, keeping her head down as she crossed the street.

  She opened the door, and the small bell hanging from the glass door announced her arrival. As soon as the door closed behind her, she bumped into a wobbly old shelf filled with alpaca wool. She reached out to steady the shelf, missed, and could only watch as the shelf tipped over and fell against another shelf. To her horror she saw all the shelves fall like dominoes, until the last one hit the opposite wall.

  “What in the world is that racket?” Mimi shouted from the back of the store.

  “It’s just me.” Riley cringed and went to set the shelving units upright. Balls and skeins and hanks of yarn littered the floor. The shelves were so old and unstable that she had to steady two of them a second time before she could start picking up the yarn. She scowled. So far the morning was off to a great start.

  “Land sakes! What happened?” Bea bustled to the front of the store, her wide hips narrowly missing bumping into other shelves and storage units. Unlike Riley, Bea seemed to know the right path to get through the store unscathed.

  “I knocked over some yarn,” Riley muttered, picking up a brown-and-orange commercial skein. She glanced at the label. The production date was from the 1980s, and the colors looked straight out of the seventies.

  “Some yarn? More like a warehouse full.” Bea’s heavy gray eyebrows lifted over her small eyes. Bea Farnsworth wasn’t conventionally attractive by any stretch, but she was as loyal a friend and as sweet a person as one could find. Riley remembered spending several nights at her house when she was fourteen and Mimi had left to visit her cousin in Missouri. Bea was an excellent cook and taught Riley how to make bourbon balls—minus the bourbon of course. Riley hadn’t made them since, but she suddenly had an urge to taste them again.

  “It looks like all the inventory is on the floor,” Bea added as Riley balanced skeins of ugly yarn on one of the shelves.

  “Don’t forget all that stuff over there.” Riley gestured with a skein of scratchy mauve wool to the other side of the store.

  Bea waddled over. “Ah, right. This could have been worse. Let me help you pick up.”

  Riley held up her hand. “It’s my mess. I’ll clean it up.” She tilted her head toward the back of the store. “What’s Mimi doing back there?”

  “Trying not to ram into anything with her leg.”

  “I wish she hadn’t insisted on coming in today.” Riley had surprisingly gotten a good night’s sleep in her old bedroom. With the exception of a new bedspread and sheets, everything in the room was exactly how she’d left it. She had intended to tell Mimi first thing that she was going to clean up her house. Her grandmother had never been the tidiest woman, but Riley could see she had let the housework go.

  Her plan flew out the window when the first words from Mimi’s mouth were, “After breakfast we’re going to Knots and Tangles.” Riley had no choice but to comply.

  “You know your grandmother,” Bea said, dabbing at her forehead with a handkerchief, then sticking it in the pocket of her purple-and-white flowered skirt. “She’s gonna do what she wants to do.” She glanced back at the entrance to the back room. “I’d better go check on her. We were talking about snacks for tonight’s BB meeting.”

  Riley had forgotten today was Thursday. Every Thursday night, except for holidays and illness, the Bosom Buddies met at Knots and Tangles. She was glad her grandmother hadn’t canceled the weekly mainstay on her account.

  A slightly less catastrophic crash sounded from the back of the store.

  “Mimi?” Riley called out.

  “Erma?” Bea said at the same time.

  “I’m fine! Just a little mishap.”

  Bea sighed. “I’m sure it was more than a mishap.” She leaned closer to Riley. “We’ve all been trying to get her to organize the place, but she insists it doesn’t need it. She knows where every ball
of yarn and every knitting needle is, but the disorganization makes it hard for new customers to browse. Some take one look at the craziness and walk right out.”

  “Really?” Riley frowned. “That’s not good.”

  “No, it’s not.” Bea stood back. “Hopefully while you’re here you can talk some sense into her.”

  She thought about her scheme to convince Mimi to sell the store. It was becoming clearer that her grandmother couldn’t handle Knots and Tangles and take care of her home, even when she wasn’t laid up.

  With a smile Bea gave Riley a hug. “It’s good to see you, darlin’. I know the rest of the BBs are excited that you’ve come back.”

  “I haven’t—”

  But Bea was already headed to save Mimi from whatever had happened in the back cavern of the shop.

  Riley shook her head. She stepped around the yarn scattered on the floor and set her purse on a wooden chest next to the orange laminate countertop, then went back and attacked the mess. She organized the spilled yarn by brand, then by color, and by the time Mimi and Bea made it to the front of the store over an hour later, Riley had filled one of the shelving units.

  “That looks nice, sugar.” Mimi grinned and rested her forearms on the wheelchair arms. “But how did you manage to knock over five shelves?”

  Both Riley and Bea faced her. “It’s impossible to move in this store,” Bea said.

  “It’s not impossible,” Mimi muttered. “A tad challenging, but not impossible.”

  As Bea sighed, Riley placed several hanks of cream-colored alpaca wool on another shelf. The crowded shop wasn’t the only reason she’d knocked over the shelves. She’d been focused on the way she abruptly ended her conversation with Hayden and hadn’t been paying attention. Erma and Bea didn’t need to know that tidbit of info.

  “I’m not getting into this argument with you again, Erma, so I guess I’ll be on my way.” Bea picked up her black patent leather purse off the front counter and slung it over her shoulder. Riley was convinced the bag had come straight from the same decade that produced the hideous seventies-style yarn she’d picked up earlier. “Those cheese crackers aren’t going to make themselves,” she said, turning to Riley. “Maybe we can make some bourbon balls soon. This time we’ll add the bourbon.” She winked at Riley and then said to Mimi, “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Mimi waved at her, then sat back in her chair, shifting in the seat. “You’re welcome to join us, Riley. We’re knittin’ some knockers tonight.”

  “You’re what?” Riley asked, peeking around the second full shelf.

  “Knitted knockers. I’m crocheting mine, but the rest of the girls prefer to knit them. They’re for breast cancer patients who have had mastectomies.”

  “That’s a nice gesture,” Riley said, picking up the last of the yarn.

  “Have you crocheted or knitted lately?”

  “No.” She carefully placed the last skein of yarn on the shelf, then went to her grandmother. “I’ve been too busy.”

  “With your art.” Mimi smiled. “Don’t worry, picking it back up will be like riding a bike.”

  “I wasn’t good at riding my bike, remember?”

  “Oh. That’s right. Don’t worry, sugar, crocheting doesn’t require any athletic ability.”

  Riley smirked, then sat in the old stuffed chair near the front of the store. The “Man Chair,” Mimi called it, since it was available to any poor husband or boyfriend who’d been dragged to the yarn store by his significant other. The chair, upholstered in goldenrod, avocado-green, and burnt-orange flowers, was anything but manly, but it was comfortable, and Riley remembered the snores of more than one male who had fallen asleep in it.

  She looked around the store, memories flooding her again. She’d spent a lot of time here, back when the store hadn’t been as disorganized and there were more customers, most of them regulars who stopped in once or twice a week to buy yarn and chat with Mimi. Riley had spent her afternoons after school and entire Saturdays working here. When the store had a lull, she worked at the small art center Mimi set up for her in the corner of the back room.

  Riley blinked, surprised at the wistful twist her thoughts had taken and the sudden twinge of guilt that appeared as she realized the neglected condition of the store. She shoved it away and addressed what she considered her grandmother’s most pressing problem.

  “You really have to do something about your inventory, Mimi.”

  Her grandmother lifted her chin, the loose skin at her neck wobbling a bit. “Don’t be bossy.”

  “I’m not. I’m concerned. I don’t want something else to happen to you while you’re healing.”

  “You’re acting like this place is a danger zone.” She glanced around the shop and frowned. “All right, I may have let things get a little out of control. But I do know where everything is.”

  “But if it’s organized, everyone else will know where things are too.”

  Nodding, Mimi said, “You’re right, of course.” Then her face brightened. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Me?”

  “Darn tootin’ you. I can’t do anything while I’m laid up. Like I said when I called you, I need your help to run this place. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you. I know you gave up a lot to come help me.”

  She met her grandmother’s gaze. There was no guile or manipulation in her expression, just an uncharacteristic touch of sadness in her eyes.

  “You don’t have to pay me,” Riley blurted, then mentally kicked herself. Her bank account was worthless, and her grandmother was offering her a job—she was a fool not to accept.

  “Nonsense,” Mimi said. “I’ve always paid you when you worked here in the past. I’m not going to change that now.”

  “All right. I accept.” Then she added, “I noticed you don’t have regular hours posted on the door anymore.”

  “That’s because I don’t have regular hours anymore.”

  Riley sat up in the chair. “Mimi, how are you supposed to make money if you don’t open the shop?”

  “Oh, sugar, this store hasn’t made money in years.”

  Riley’s brow shot up. “It hasn’t?”

  Mimi shook her head as she lifted her finger. “There was that one year, I think five or six years ago, that I broke even.”

  Alarm ran through her. “How are you managing without getting paid?”

  “I never said I didn’t have any money. Your grandfather left me well taken care of.”

  Riley saw the touch of sadness in her grandmother’s eyes return. It usually appeared anytime she mentioned Poppy, who had passed away thirty years ago. Riley, of course, had never met him, but she’d heard so many stories and seen so many pictures of her grandfather that she felt like she had known him.

  “I’ve also invested well over the years, and I have an excellent financial adviser,” Mimi added. “Trust me, sugar, money isn’t an issue.”

  Riley pounced on the chance to put her plan in action. “If you don’t need the revenue, then why don’t you sell the business? Then if you wanted to travel or—”

  “I’m not selling.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Knots and Tangles has been in my family for a long time. I’ve held out hope it will continue that way.”

  Another ribbon of guilt wrapped around Riley’s conscience, but she ignored it. Mimi knew she had no interest in running the yarn shop, and it wasn’t her fault her grandmother was not only being stubborn but also making a bad business decision. Thank God she wasn’t broke. Like me.

  Mimi put her hands on the wheels of her wheelchair and pushed forward, her foot rattling a display of stitch markers that somehow managed to stay upright. “Anyway, I’ll put you on a salary.” When she mentioned the amount, Riley almost fell out of the chair.

  “That’s way too much, Mimi.”

  “Pshaw. I can afford it. I also know you have bills to pay, and while you’re here you can’t sell your artwork. So now that I’m your boss, I insist on paying you what you’re wor
th.”

  “Mimi—”

  “Insubordination will not be tolerated at Knots and Tangles. You’re risking your Employee of the Month status.”

  Riley laughed. “Other than you, I’m the only employee here.”

  “And I’ve won the award every month. It’s about time I had some competition.” Her eyes grew soft. “I’m so happy you’re here, sugar. It fills my soul to have you back in Maple Falls again.”

  A lump formed in Riley’s throat at her grandmother’s hopeful tone. She’d have to tell Mimi she was heading back to New York as soon as Mimi’s leg healed. But she didn’t have to say that now. And while she was here, she might as well get this shop, and her grandmother’s home, in better shape.

  “I have one condition,” Riley said.

  “Name it.”

  “That you let me clean and organize this place.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Riley frowned. “You’re giving in that easily?”

  Mimi shrugged. “Letting you clean the shop won’t bother me, because then I won’t have to. It will also get the BBs off my back.” She pointed at Riley. “But don’t you dare touch my house. That’s sacred ground.”

  Riley nodded, smirking. We’ll see.

  Chapter 4

  Erma sat in her wheelchair in the back room of her shop, the only room in the entire store that was somewhat tidy. It had to be neat so there was enough space to hold a mismatched set of chairs, a turquoise rag area rug, a scratched but beloved coffee table, and a few TV trays that held snacks and beverages. As the Bosom Buddies entered the room—each carrying her project bag along with a treat to share—her heart warmed. This was what was important. Her friends, good food, creativity, a bit of gossip, and lots of laughter. The icing on the cake was Riley’s presence. Her dearest friends were fawning all over her wonderful granddaughter.

  “Riley McAllister, you haven’t changed a bit,” Madge Wilson gushed. She was the youngest of the Bosom Buddies, and her daughter, Harper, was Riley’s age. “Still pretty as ever.”

 

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