"Big spender," she said, chuckling.
"I just wanted to see when you could take off for lunch. I didn't want you to get in trouble."
"You know, we're a pretty small operation. I don't think I would get in trouble for talking to our customers."
"Exactly. I'm a customer. Can you go to lunch?"
Julianna laughed. "Let me call Bobby. I'll meet you out front."
"Perfect."
She couldn't keep her eyes off him as he sauntered out the door, popping a stick of gum in his mouth, and stuffing the rest into his jacket pocket.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"I 'll say it again, I'm not giving up on you, Junior." J.R. smiled as he watched Julianna blush.
"You might be wasting your time, J.R."
"I never waste my time if I'm spending it with you." He winked and leaned forward on his elbows that were resting on the table diminishing the space between them. He whispered, "You're going to change your mind, Julianna. You're going to marry me."
Julianna's nervous laugh gave J.R. comfort. Her blush deepened.
How could he get her to understand he didn't care about all the lies and misconceptions?
"Let's talk about something else," she said. "What did you do on the house this morning?"
"Fair enough." He leaned back in his seat, grabbing a stray French fry from the basket in front of him. Swiping it through the last of the ketchup, he dropped it into his mouth. "I moved Mama upstairs to the first room in the front of the house. She'll need to limit her trips to her bedroom to once or twice a day, but with her out of the downstairs bedroom, we can tear out the carpet and get it ready for new paint. Then we'll refinish the hardwood floors when we do the living room, dining room, den, and entryway."
"There was hardwood under the carpet in the bedroom downstairs?"
"Yeah. There was a time when people thought wall-to-wall carpet was better than wood."
"Funny how time changes things."
"Absolutely," he agreed, no longer thinking about the house renovations. Yet time hadn't changed his feelings for her. It had only held them in limbo until he chose to acknowledge them again.
"Did she pick out the stain for the cabinets yet?"
"Finally. I called Jack and gave him the information. He had the boxes all built and was just waiting on her choice of stain before he could finish the doors and attach them to the boxes. They'll take a couple days to dry and then he can deliver them."
"This is taking longer than you planned, isn't it?"
"I guess so." He reached over and started playing with her hand. "But I'm not complaining, Junior. I have some decisions to make, and I'm not sure about them yet, but I want the future to include you."
"I thought we weren't going to talk about that."
"Sorry. I can't help myself."
She twisted her mouth into a smirk. "Let's get back. We're behind stocking the shelves and I need to let Bobby go for lunch, too."
"You're very dedicated. I hope they realize what a great employee you are."
"Humph! Fat chance," she said. "If they really appreciated me, they would have given me that promotion."
They gathered their trash and left the baskets on top of the trash receptacle. J.R. drove her back to the store and kissed her long and sweet before letting her out of the truck. He grinned when he saw the smile on her face as she made her way back to her station. His smile lasted all the way home.
Four days of steady rain kept J.R. working inside, and soon the downstairs looked like it had been raided by a moving company. Furniture was pushed up against one side of the living room, the rugs were rolled up and lined the entryway. Box after box of trinkets, artwork, and other knick-knacks were stacked up against the wall leading to the kitchen, ready to be stored out of the way in the garage. J.R. had scheduled the renovations for the kitchen last. That way, they could set up a make-shift work space in the finished dining room when the cabinets were torn out and waiting for the new ones. Hopefully, it would be only one day without the countertops. Once they were in place, the new appliances that had been delivered and stored in the garage could be installed and it wouldn't be too long before they'd be up and running.
When the sun pushed the clouds away, J.R. decided to focus on the outside as long as the weather held. He started by stripping off the old paint on the outside of the house. Mama's choice of a soft yellow would give the house a great old-fashioned feel. The white trim fit with the farmhouse look, and new black shutters would add that something extra.
The new windows had been delivered, but he was waiting until Junior could help him install them. He could probably find someone else to help, but he knew how much she missed working on the project. Once the windows were in and the new paint was done, his plan was to tear out the old porch in back and start nailing down the composite decking Mama wanted. It would wear well, rain or shine, and never need to be painted.
Sometimes thinking about everything that needed to be done wiped him out. In his projects around Portland, he usually hired someone to do the majority of the work. He would tinker at some of the stuff one man could handle, but if it needed more than just him, he hired it out.
He wondered what life would be like if he and Junior actually got married. Would she want to help him with his work? Would she want to work retail somewhere close to where they would live? She didn't like the city with all its traffic, noise, and people everywhere, but maybe they could find a little house in the suburbs. His mind wandered as he envisioned Julianna in a cute little kitchen and a couple of toddlers hanging on to her legs as she cooked.
"J.R.!" Mama's voice jarred his thoughts, and his daydream evaporated.
"What?" he asked, returning to the task at hand, scraping old paint.
"Did you ask Julianna what time she would be home?"
"I think she said the usual time, why?"
"Because she's late."
A feeling of anxiety whirled through him. "She probably stayed late to help out."
Mama came outside and stood next to J.R. "Maybe. But it isn't like her not to call and let me know."
"What would you like me to do?"
"Go down to the store and make sure she's okay."
"Really? She might get mad. You know how she gets when she thinks we don't give her enough credit for taking care of herself."
"I have a bad feeling."
And that's all it took for J.R. to put away his supplies, wash his hands, and head for the store. When Mama got a feeling, it was wise to pay attention.
Julianna re-crossed her legs and glanced at her watch. She wondered what she had missed for dinner. Sitting in the manager's office since five o'clock had tested her patience beyond reason. With every breath, her frustration mounted. John flipped through a flimsy folder that held the company's policies and procedures. Julianna was pretty sure it hadn't been updated since the 1970s when Brad Taylor's father ran the store.
John sat in Brad's chair rubbing his fingers into his temple as though he was drilling for oil. Occasionally he would turn a page of the little booklet. "I'm just not sure what to do now, Julianna."
Julianna sighed and tried to look anywhere but at the poor excuse for an assistant manager in front of her. "How about you let me go home?" she suggested. "Then you can keep calling Mr. Taylor and let me know his decision tomorrow."
"I don't think I'm supposed to let you go yet. I think I'm supposed to call the police."
"Then call them, for Pete's sake!"
It had taken John over an hour just to verify that her drawer was short. Julianna had counted it three times, but John had counted it at least ten. It had happened before, a few cents here or there. But this time the drawer was short more than two hundred dollars, and Julianna was as stumped as John about how that could happen.
John continued to read silently. "I don't have any evidence, you know. The security cameras were shorting out all day, and the tech guy didn't come until after three to fix them."
"Yes, you said t
hat about six times already." It felt like he'd said it a hundred, and Julianna had reached her limit. "Look John, I've been with the store a long time. I live ten minutes away. J.R. and Sharon Bentley will both vouch for me, as will my pastor, Doug Bridger. I'll be back in the morning, and I'll help you find out what happened."
"No. I can't do that." He slowly turned another page. "Oh," he said with a little more spirit, "this might be it." Julianna predicted he'd read the same paragraph five times before he told her what it said. After several minutes, he said, "Okay. You are to be put on suspension without pay for a period of at least one week, during which time we will contact the authorities and investigate."
"Fine." Julianna stood, no longer caring what John said. "Can I leave now?"
"I'll need to escort you out of the store."
"Whatever."
Standing up and stretching her legs, she marched out of Brad's office and right into a strong broad chest. "Oomph." Julianna knew that chest and gratefully wrapped her arms around J.R.
J.R. grabbed onto Julianna's arms and held her close. "Problem?" he whispered.
"Get me out of here, please," she whispered back.
"You bet." He whisked her around and kept his arm across her shoulders as they walked through the double plastic doors that separated the backroom and offices from the store front.
"Not so fast, Julianna," John called from behind.
Julianna turned around, impatient to get this over with. "What now, John?"
"I need your keys."
With every bit of control that she could muster, she managed not to throw her keys at John and stomp out the door. Once she was outside, J.R. took her hand and walked her to her car. The warmth of his hand kept her from screaming and lashing out.
"You okay driving?"
Through clenched teeth, she said, "Sure. I'll see you at home."
"I'll follow you."
Julianna opened the door of her car and stopped. "Wait, J.R.!"
J.R. turned around and walked back to the car. "Yeah?"
"Why are you even here?"
"Mama told me to come find out why you were late. She had a bad feeling."
"Oh."
"Was she right?"
Julianna side-stepped the question. "I was already leaving anyway, but I'm glad you came. See you at home." She slid into the driver's seat and pulled on her seatbelt. Maneuvering out of the parking lot, she turned on her signal and checked for traffic. She could see J.R.'s lights right behind her and just knowing he came to check on her calmed her mind. She couldn't make sense of the drama going on at work, but the suspension would allow her to help J.R. on Mama's house project. There had to be a silver lining in this somewhere.
The trip home wasn't nearly long enough to work off the anger she felt from being accused of stealing out of her drawer. After parking her car in front of the garage, she waited while J.R. pulled up beside her.
"Whatever it is," he said, picking up her hand again, as they headed for the back door, "we'll work it out together."
"Thanks."
Hanging up their coats in the mudroom, J.R. allowed Julianna to enter the kitchen first, where Mama was stirring a pot on the stove.
"Spaghetti tonight," she said without even a "hello." "Get washed up and we'll eat right away."
"I'll only be a minute, Mama." Julianna hurried to the downstairs bathroom.
Spaghetti was one of Julianna's favorite dinners, and she wondered if Mama fixed it because she knew Julianna needed extra attention tonight. Sitting at the table she filled Mama and J.R. in on what happened just before she was supposed to leave.
After counting her drawer three times, per store policy, she asked John to count her drawer while she watched. Each time, the drawer was $273.85 short. Julianna couldn't believe it. It didn't make any sense. If someone was going to take money from her drawer, wouldn't they take more, or at least take an even amount?
She was the only one with a key besides management, and she locked her drawer in the office during lunch. Only when she took a break did she leave it at the register, and even then, it was locked, and she was usually nearby. She was checking on housing in the back room this morning, though, and Bobby was working out front. She hadn't had a chance to ask Bobby if he noticed anyone hanging around her station. But the drawer lock hadn't been tampered with and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
When she mentioned that the store security cameras had been on the fritz that day, J.R. moaned.
"What are the odds of that happening?"
"I'm sure it's not a coincidence," Mama said. "It sounds as though you've been set up."
"For two hundred seventy-three dollars and eighty-five cents? That's crazy."
"What are they going to do now?" asked J.R.
"John said I'm suspended for a week until they investigate. Without pay."
"Eat up, you two," Mama said. "We're expecting company in a few minutes."
"Who?" asked Julianna.
"The police."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
T here were times when J.R. was certain his mama had second sight, ESP, or whatever people called it these days. She just said she got feelings and followed through with them. This was obviously one of those times. Before the dishes were completely done, the doorbell rang.
With the furniture in disarray and boxes all over the place, J.R. quickly turned the sofa around in the living room so they could sit and face each other. Captain Tom Glenn and his deputy, Sergeant Robert Clarke, each took a seat. Mama sat down in her recliner and J.R. and Julianna sat side by side on chairs he brought in from the kitchen. J.R. remembered Captain Glenn from when they did the D.A.R.E. presentations at school. His easy-going manner brought calm to their tense situation.
Captain Glenn smiled at Sharon and asked, "Why are we here tonight, Sharon?"
"Julianna needs your help, Tom."
Tom turned toward Julianna. "How can I help you, young lady?"
J.R. reached for Junior's hand. It seemed like he'd been holding it a lot lately. Not that he minded. He wanted her to know he was here for her.
"I was accused of stealing money from my drawer at the store today." J.R. hoped Tom didn't hear the tremor in Junior's voice.
"How much money was missing?"
"Two hundred seventy-three dollars and eighty-five cents."
Tom reached into his shirt pocket and took out a notebook and pencil. Hovering the pencil over a page in the book, he asked her to repeat the number. She did. "That's an odd amount," he said.
"That what I thought," she agreed. When she explained about the security cameras not being reliable, he sat up a little straighter.
"Any witnesses?" Tom asked.
"None that came forward."
"You don't have any way to prove someone else got into your drawer?"
"I don't. I'm worried if they can't find out who took the money, they'll fire me, or have me arrested."
Tom looked over at his deputy before speaking. "You won't be arrested unless they have proof. The faulty cameras work for you as much as they work against you. I can't control their actions if they decide to let you go, but they may dock your pay for the amount that's missing. What did Mr. Taylor say about it?"
"He wasn't there and his new assistant manager, John Wells, has only been on the job for a week or two. He doesn't really know what to do."
"Did he try to contact Mr. Taylor?"
"Oh, yes, I watched him try to phone him right there in the office. I think he tried his home phone and his cell phone, but they both went to voice mail."
"OK. Well, don't worry about it tonight. I'm glad you talked to us first, though. It looks better for your side." He put his hand up to prevent Julianna from talking. "Calling us in now, before the store does is a good move."
"What do we do now?" J.R. asked.
"Just sit tight." Tom looked around the room. "It looks like you've got your hands full here anyway."
Mama laughed.
Tom and Sgt. Clarke stood
and said their good-byes.
When the front door closed, J.R. turned back to his favorite women.
"I think you're a genius, Mama. Whoever is trying to get Junior in trouble didn't count on her having you in her corner."
Sharon smiled and said to Julianna, "I'm sorry you won't be getting a paid vacation, but at least you can help with the house again."
"I guess so," she said sadly.
J.R. pulled her toward him. "Let's go out and get some ice cream. I think we all need cheering up. You too, Mama."
The atmosphere was somber as Julianna, J.R., and Mama made their way into Cooper Springs' one and only ice cream parlor. Passing a group of teenagers at the big table, and a few tables with couples, they took a booth in the back. The brightly colored benches, crisp white tables with chrome edges, and occasional laughter from the other patrons couldn't dispel the melancholy of their group.
Once their order was placed, J.R. looked over at Julianna and wished he could take away all her hurt and confusion. It seemed like the world was forever at odds with Juliann Brown. She couldn't seem to get a break. From the time he had met her when she walked into his fifth-grade classroom, she had struggled not only to fit in, but to find her way to success.
He didn't suppose having the nickname of J.R. was helpful and since most elementary teachers sat students in alphabetical order, they always ended up sitting next to each other. J.R. Bentley and J.R. Brown. His ten-year old brain hadn't understood the power of how his teasing could cement her predisposition for sadness because she already came from a stressful situation.
For at least three years, he hadn't known that she lived in foster care with people who cared more about their monthly check from the state than they cared for her. Then senior year, when they finally admitted to having feelings for each other and their relationship moved into something more, Stacy had to step in and really mess things up. He wondered how many other things Stacy ruined after he left. Junior's attitude around her left no doubt Stacy caused a heap of trouble.
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