“And tomorrow we can talk more about the script-writing job.” Grandma circled an arm around her waist and, leading a still-stunned Paige down the aisle, shot Jed a wink over her shoulder.
This time he couldn’t contain his laughter. As stubborn as Paige was, she was no match for his grandmother, once she got her mind set on something.
* * *
Paige stepped into her mother’s house, dropped her purse by the door and exhaled. That had been awkward, and something told her Mrs. Tappen was just getting started. Paige was tempted to avoid her from here on out, except she cared for her too much to do that. But how many ways could a person decline a job offer?
Paige smoothed a hand over Ava’s soft curls. “Let’s get you fed and down for a nap.”
“You know,” Mom said, “you should really give Jed and Judith’s offer some thought.”
“Mom, please. It’d never work, and I’m not that desperate.” Yet.
“Maybe not, but I suspect Judith is.”
Ava toddled off to her pile of toys and plopped on her bottom.
“What do you mean?” Paige left Ava to play, and then she headed into the kitchen to prepare her a snack of cheese and crackers.
Her mother followed. “You know their business is failing, right?”
“What? You can’t be serious. Why?”
“Things started going south long before Jed put his money on the line. About five years ago, Mr. Tappen’s kidneys went into failure.”
“I remember.” She’d sent numerous cards to him and his wife, and had talked to Mrs. Tappen on the phone, especially toward the end. But she hadn’t gone to Mr. Tappen’s funeral, and she’d always regretted that. It was the least she could’ve—should’ve—done for the sweet woman who’d meant so much to her. Who’d been there for her when everyone else, Jed included, had failed her. But she’d received word of Mr. Tappen’s death while on a cruise. She had told herself there wasn’t much she could do, but in truth she could’ve caught a plane at the next port city. But she’d been struggling with her marriage, hoping a week in the tropics would help.
It hadn’t.
They’d returned, picked Ava up from Jarred’s parents, and he’d walked out on her a few days later.
Truth be told, she’d always suspected he was having an affair.
“That year took all Judith’s time and energy.” Mom frowned. “Something had to give, so she let the business slide. By the time Ralph died, the theater was a mess. She’d landed so far in debt, she was afraid she’d lose the business and her house—that’s how far tangled she’d gotten herself. She spent the next couple years trying to climb out—didn’t tell anyone but me what was going on.”
Paige opened an applesauce squeeze packet. “Why didn’t she ask her daughter for help? The Gilbertsons have plenty of money to spare.” Not only did Jed’s father own his own firm, but he’d also inherited a large chunk of land that had been in his family for generations. Surely the place held a great deal of equity.
“I’m not so sure. Don’t say anything to Jed or Judith, but from what I’ve heard, the Gilbertsons may not be as well-off as they pretend. At least not anymore.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
Mom shrugged. “Word has it Mr. Gilbertson made a series of risky and bad investments.”
“You know how rumors are.”
“Regardless, Judith found herself in the red, though she never mentioned this to anyone but me. She didn’t want to burden anyone—you know how she is. But one afternoon, while talking to her and her grandson, I let word slip. That was all it took. He went to the bank the next day, refinanced his house and within a few short months, had become joint owner. Now that poor kid’s near wearing himself out trying to turn things around.”
“Are his efforts working?”
“Not sure. I mean, things are better, as far as I can tell. But I get the impression those two have a ways to go before they’ll climb out of the red. I just hope they can do it before they both lose their homes. Anyway, figured you’d want to know.”
“Thanks.” What was she going to do now? Turning Jed down was one thing, but Mrs. Tappen needed her.
She had a lot of thinking to do.
Her phone rang. Uncle Ken. “Hello?”
“Hey, Budinsky. How’s my favorite niece holding up?”
“Honest answer? I feel like I’ve regressed about ten years.”
“Lots of folks hit setbacks. Take some time to regroup. And to enjoy your mother. She’s missed you something fierce.”
“I know, and you’re right. Circumstances aside, it’s good to be home.”
“Remember that. Don’t let the hard times keep you from enjoying what matters most.”
When their conversation ended, she contemplated his statement. Though her reasons for being here stung, she and Ava were blessed to have this time. Not everyone had such a loving support system to fall back on.
Chapter Five
Later that evening, Mom took Ava out for a Grandma-kiddo playdate, and Paige sat in her car, parked across from Murder, Mystery and Mayhem. She felt like an army of ants had stampeded her stomach.
Why was she so nervous?
Besides the fact that she was slinking around Jed’s dinner theater? But her behavior was perfectly reasonable. How could she consider working for the guy if she’d never seen his establishment or had even been to one of these dinner-theater places? Her theater experience consisted of high school musicals and a few Broadway productions in Chicago.
She gazed across the parking lot. The theater was sandwiched between Lace and Ribbons and an office-supply store in a gray strip mall. The sign had the name in bold red letters with a magnifying glass covering the top left corner of the first M.
Car doors slammed shut as couples got out and walked toward the entrance.
She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes until showtime.
After adding some lip gloss—not that her appearance mattered, as she had no intention of making her presence known—she took a deep breath and stepped out of her car. She marched toward the building in long strides and stopped in front of one of the tall windows flanking the door. Unfortunately, the reflection from the early-evening sun made it nearly impossible for her to see in.
She swiped her palm against the dusty glass and then pressed her nose to it with her hands on either side of her face.
“Paige!”
She spun around, face hot, to see Lucy and a handful of her quilting friends walking toward her.
“How fun to see you here.” Lucy glanced about. “Where’s your mama?”
“Spending time with her granddaughter.”
Lucy smiled. “And eating up every moment, I imagine. You here by yourself?”
“I...uh...” She didn’t want to lie, but neither did she want to get snagged into joining Lucy and her group. It’d be nearly impossible to slip in, incognito, if she accompanied the group of women. “Actually, I’m...”
“Yoo-hoo!” Luckily a woman Paige didn’t recognize poked her head out of the theater door before Paige landed herself in a mess. “Pictures! Pictures! My granddaughter brought her selfie stick and wants to take pictures in front of the stage.” She waved the quilting group forward.
Lucy turned back to Paige. “Want to join us?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t, but thank you.”
“Another time, then.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave and then joined her friends.
Paige waited until they’d all gone in, gave herself a few more minutes and then followed a younger couple into a lobby area painted a burnt orange with a maroon-and-gold carpet.
A handful of women—some in dresses, and others in slacks—perused a small gift shop to her right. Other people formed a short line to the counter, as their voices were echoing off the low ceiling.
What d
id the actual theater look like? She inched toward the opened double doors to the right of the cashier. Rising on tiptoe, she peered into the short, dim hallway. It ended with a sharp turn, revealing nothing.
“Can I see your ticket, please?”
She spun around to face the counter clerk, an older lady Paige didn’t recognize. “I...uh...” She’d be smart to leave before making a fool of herself. But curiosity drew her—a writer’s curse. “Um...can I see the buffet before I purchase a ticket?”
“The salad bar, you mean?”
“Yes, the salad bar.”
The woman looked her up and down, and then motioned to the entrance.
Paige released the breath she’d been holding, feeling grateful for once that Sage Creek was a small town. “Thanks.” She never would’ve been allowed in had this been a big-city theater.
She darted into the hallway, then slowed near the end. Palms sweaty, she peered around the corner and into a large room filled with circular tables covered in black linen. Patrons filled maybe half of the seats, sipping from plastic goblets. No way they’d be made from glass or crystal—not based on the drab carpeting and hideous wallpaper.
Holding a magnifying glass to his eye, a tall guy with a bushy gray mustache skulked around various diners. Dressed in a trench coat and tan trousers, he had to be an actor. Across the room, a woman in a red velvet gown periodically grabbed other people’s drinks, sniffed them, then returned them. Another cast member. Amid all of this, waiters dressed in black made rounds, carrying pitchers of iced tea or carafes of coffee.
One of them approached her. “Can I help you find your seat, miss?”
“Actually, I was just checking out tonight’s salad.” She glanced around, instantly regretting her words. The salad bar stood near the far back corner, much deeper into the theater than she’d intended to go. “But thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she headed in that direction. Offering a forced smile to the diners she passed—in her jeans, the ones with the ripped knees, and striped canvas shoes—she hurried to the back corner. To see the lettuce.
Yep. It was green. Croutons, yep. Dressing, grated cheese, pickled beets—of course.
“Switch out the tomatoes. The ones you’ve got out now look past their prime.”
That voice—the deep drawl. She froze, feeling her stomach diving to her toes as heat rocketed up her neck.
She spun on her heel and walked briskly to the door, using all of her self-control not to break into a run. Which she did, once she’d made it to the lobby. The ticket lady called out to her as she hurried past.
Paige quickened her step. She didn’t slow down until she reached her car.
Plopping into the driver’s seat, she felt her lungs strain to keep up with the oxygen demand initiated by her pounding heart.
Jed hadn’t seen her, had he?
* * *
Late the next morning, Paige talked her mom into going to Sage Creek’s downtown shopping area. With its independently owned bookstore/coffeehouse, family hardware, art gallery and a handful of boutiques, Paige hoped she could find temporary employment. She still hadn’t decided whether or not to take the script-writing job. Did Mrs. Tappen truly need her? She wouldn’t lie, but what about Mom? If it meant hooking Paige up with the man she liked to refer to as “the best catch in Texas,” then maybe.
If Paige and Jed were meant to be together, they never would’ve broken up in the first place.
But she did need a job. And soon. Waitressing was likely her best option, though she felt bad applying for work when she didn’t plan on sticking around town for long. Regardless, hardly anyone was hiring.
Paige handed Ava a filled sippy cup, then tucked her diaper bag in her stroller’s basket. Hot as it was, they probably shouldn’t keep her out too long.
“Why don’t you apply for secretarial work?” Mom pulled a tube of lotion from her purse and squirted some in her hand. It smelled like lemon. “Typing or transcribing or something? Maybe you could even get a job with the school, answering phones or something, come fall.”
“I need money faster than that. I’m trying to earn my way to a writing conference one of my coworkers told me about. It’s at the end of this month, in Joliet.” She left out the fact that all of Chicago’s top magazines would be represented, and that she hoped to head back to the Windy City as soon as possible. Mom knew she didn’t plan to stay forever, but she turned quiet whenever Paige talked about her plans to leave.
“I see.” Based on her flattened tone, Mom had connected the dots on her own. “So, you want me to watch Ava?”
“Would you mind?” She’d planned to ask.
“Of course not.” She sighed and brushed her bangs out of her face. “I’m not feeling so hot.”
Paige turned onto First Street. “Want me to drop you and Ava off at the bookstore so you can get an iced coffee?”
“Probably better. I don’t want to overdo it and give myself a migraine.”
They looped around to the bookstore. Paige walked them in and kissed Ava’s cheek. “Have fun, sunshine.” She stood. “See you in a bit.”
“Good luck.” Mom pushed the stroller after Ava, who’d already started to toddle off as if she knew instinctively where to find the kids’ section. More likely she was following the scent of fresh fudge.
Paige decided to stop in Wilma’s Kitchen first, and then work her way back, ending at Your Sister’s Closet, a cute resale boutique.
She’d just made it to the cute little boutique when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and answered. “Hey, Mom. You okay?”
“I lost my teeth.”
“Your what?”
“Teeth. The partials my dentist gave me when I had to have two of my real ones pulled. They pop in and out like a retainer.”
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
She arrived to find Mom sitting in the café, talking to Mrs. Tappen.
“Paige? Over here!” Mom stood and waved her over.
“Mama!” Ava toddled toward her with one hand outstretched and a squished croissant in the other.
Paige dropped to one knee and picked her up. “You miss me, sweetie?” She gave her a squeeze and then turned to greet Mrs. Tappen. “Ma’am.”
“Hello, dear.” She enveloped Paige in a hug, and her almond-cherry-scented lotion elicited bittersweet memories. Then she pulled away and tucked a lock of hair behind Paige’s ear. “Don’t you look nice? Quite professional.”
“Thank you.”
“You should stop by the house for some baking sometime this week. I’ve got a hankering to whip up a batch of cinnamon rolls. Remember when we used to do that?”
Paige smiled. “I do. Those were great times.” Those afternoons had been her lifeline. She’d arrived each time, desperate for a listening ear, and had left enveloped in love and with a bellyache from too many sweets.
“I’m praying for you.” She squeezed Paige’s hand.
For what? That Paige would accept her job offer, or that she’d get a job at all? “Thanks, Mrs. Tappen.” She faced Mom. “You ready?”
“To leave? Oh, no. Not until I find my teeth.”
Judith raised an eyebrow. “Your teeth?”
Mom repeated what she’d told Paige about her partials. “I got something jammed under them, so I took them out to swish with water. I wrapped them in a napkin and placed them right there.” She pointed to the corner of the table. “When I got back from the bathroom, they were gone.”
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Tappen looked around—for what, Paige didn’t know. Maybe she hoped to see Mom’s molars lying on the floor. “Did you ask the workers if they threw them away?”
Mom nodded. “They already took the trash to the dumpster, and none of them seem keen on helping me search for them.”
“Can’t sa
y that I blame them.” The skin around Mrs. Tappen’s eyes crinkled. “Tell you what. Jed is at the hardware store, picking something up. I’ll give him a call. Boy’s so tall, he could grab those teeth for you easy.”
“No!” Paige blurted the word out with enough force to turn numerous heads. “I’ve got it. No problem. Mom, you wait here.”
She hurried out before either of them could argue and marched straight for the back dumpsters. Partially crushed boxes, bits of plastic bags and napkins cluttered the ground around them. The stench rising from them turned her stomach, but she didn’t care. She practically jumped in, because there was no way she’d let Jed Gilbertson go dumpster diving for Mom’s partials.
Luckily she found them near the top and returned to the café less than ten minutes later. Not so luckily Jed had already arrived and was in the middle of rolling up his sleeves.
“Look who’s back.” Mom grinned at her. “Did you find them?”
Mortified, Page gave a quick nod and extended her hand, revealing a wadded up napkin with shiny porcelain peeking through the gaps.
“You’re such a love.” Mom hugged her.
She shot a gaze to Jed to find him watching her, no doubt fighting back laughter.
“Paige.” He tipped his hat. “Got what you needed?”
Could she possibly be any more embarrassed? “I did, thank you.”
He reached for her hair, and she inhaled a quick breath as an old memory of his knuckles brushing her face surfaced. Then vanished as he tugged on a loose curl. She frowned and pulled back.
Mirth danced in his eyes as he showed her his fingertips, which were smudged with coffee grounds.
A shudder ran through her. Other people’s trash. In her hair. No doubt she stank, as well.
“Well, isn’t this nice.” Mrs. Tappen grabbed Paige’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Seems we’ll get our chance to do lunch after all.”
“I...uh...” She was liable to hurt Mrs. Tappen’s feelings if she kept turning her down. But Paige felt much too unsettled whenever Jed was around to accept the invite. Clearly all of those nights that she’d told herself she was over him and had moved on were a lie.
Hometown Healing Page 5