by Lisa Jordan
“Yeah, too bad life doesn’t come with do-overs.”
“We can’t go back, Red. Only forward. And you’re the only one I want in my future.”
“You’re wonderful, Ian. Just let me get a little used to the idea of us before we rush into something more.”
“We’ll take all the time you need. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned forward, laced his fingers with hers and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips, savoring the sweetness she offered.
“Let’s focus on Zoe coming home before we make any long-term plans. Both of our plates are full enough right now.”
“Fair enough.”
She pulled away and touched her forehead to his. “I’m so glad you asked me to dinner, and I love the boat ride, but I’m so tired that I could curl up in a ball and sleep on the floor of this boat.”
Ian laughed and reached for the oars. “Let’s get you home, Sleeping Beauty.”
Hopefully soon, he wouldn’t have to drop her off at home and head back to his place. He was looking forward to the day when they could go to their home together. Someday.
Chapter Twelve
Darting a quick look at the darkening sky, Ian tugged off his ball cap and wiped away the sweat from his brow with his forearm. He needed to finish this roof before the brewing storm hit.
Crazy July weather. Storms one day, sun the next, then more storms.
He reached for his bottle of water and chugged the rest, grateful for the liquid in his parched throat even if it was as warm as a mud puddle. He poured the last few drops over his soaked head.
His back and shoulders ached from being hunched over for the past couple of hours, but the roof needed to be finished. He hadn’t spent nearly as much time on it as he should have.
All he wanted to do was be with Red.
She quenched a thirst that had welled up inside him for so long. Her ability to make him laugh, her incredible beauty and the easy way she slid into his arms…things were almost perfect.
A ring on her finger would make it complete.
All in due time.
Hearing car doors closing behind him, he looked over his shoulder to see Mom and Dad heading for the front door.
He gathered his tools, climbed down the ladder and dropped them in the back of his SUV. He snagged a fresh bottle of water from the cooler, then headed for the house.
The darkened rooms offered respite from the oppressive humidity outside.
“Hey. What’s up?” Ian twisted the cap off his fresh bottle of water and guzzled half of it. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then frowned.
Why weren’t they saying anything?
Mom and Dad exchanged “that look”—the one he saw growing up that preceded bad news. His stomach tightened.
“What’s going on? What happened?”
Blinking back tears, Mom gripped her purse strap and shifted her gaze to Dad. She gave him a slight nod.
Dad ran a hand over his head. “Wally Banks decided to pull his funding.”
Ian stared at them as Dad’s words sank in. “What? Why? Without his contributions, we won’t be able to finish. He’s our largest supporter.”
Dad pressed his back against the wall and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Being on the city council, he learned about Evelyn Parnell’s letter about Agape House and decided maybe she’s right.”
“That’s it? No other reasoning? Well, that’s just beautiful.”
Mom sat on the bottom step of the staircase and looked up at him. “Have you asked Agnes about her conversation with Evelyn?”
Ian rested an elbow on the mantel. “No, it hasn’t come up.”
“What hasn’t come up?” The three of them turned to find Red coming into the living room from the kitchen, peeling purple gardening gloves off her hands. She wore cutoffs and a cute little pink T-shirt smudged with dirt. Her hair had been caught up in a ponytail, but pieces drifted around her ears and chin.
With his parents’ surprise appearance, he had forgotten she was working in the backyard, weeding the flower beds and pruning the hedges. If his parents weren’t there, he would have crossed the room and kissed her.
She stood on tiptoe and kissed Dad on the cheek, then turned to give Mom a hug. “All y’all’s faces look downer than a hound’s at the end of racoon season. What’s going on?”
“We have a small problem.” Ian tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and wiped a smudge of dirt off her nose.
“What kind of problem?”
“Evelyn Parnell sent a letter to the parole board, trying to block Zoe’s release.” Mom’s voice sounded tiny in the hollow room.
Red wrapped an arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Why?”
Ian pushed away from the mantel and started pacing. “That’s not all. She sent a similar letter to the Shelby Lake City Council trying to keep Agape House from opening.”
“Well, it’s no secret she’s against this place.” She turned to Mom. “But you’ve done everything by the book.”
Mom nodded, but her eyes dimmed. “I made sure I dotted every I and crossed every T so when something like this happened, I couldn’t be held accountable.”
“Did something else happen?” Red looked between the three of them.
“Yes, Wally Banks pulled his funding.” Fatigue threaded Dad’s words.
They were all getting tired of the setbacks.
Red glanced at him. “Wally Banks from the city council?”
He nodded. “Yes, apparently he read Evelyn’s letter and decided to side with her. If he can get the other council members to back Evelyn, then Agape House is done.”
Red jumped her feet and balled her hands into fists. “Zoe needs this place.”
Ian scrubbed a hand over his face. “Preaching to the choir, babe.”
“So what can we do?”
“Do? Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Now, why did he say something stupid like that?
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Chief Laughton paid Dad another visit. Something about your conversation with Evelyn?”
Red bristled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, so this is my fault?”
Mom rose and glared at him before giving Red a one-armed hug. “No one is blaming you.”
Somehow he needed to pry his foot from his mouth. Judging by the thunderous look on Red’s face, this was going to take more than sweet-talking. Problem was, he wasn’t feeling too sweet at the moment.
“Mom’s right. Evelyn made her own decision, but just what did you say to her?”
“The woman was being ugly, and I defended y’all. She spewed poison faster than a rattlesnake in a bear trap. I told her everyone deserved a second chance and suggested forgiveness might go a long way in helping her heal. I promise y’all I didn’t return the ugly one bit.”
“But why did you have to say anything at all? Why couldn’t you have ignored her?”
“But the things she was saying, Ian—”
“I don’t care about her petty gossip. Neither should you. I thought your skin was tougher than that.”
“My skin’s just fine, thank you very much. But I couldn’t stand by and listen to her bash my closest friends.”
“You need to apologize to her and smooth things over.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her chin.
“Excuse me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with your hearing, Ian.”
“Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“Yes, I’ve stood up for your family. And I’ll do it again. I refuse to let that woman torment your family. Your mama has worked her tail off to get this project off the ground. If you lose support, then you didn’t need those donors in the first place. God will provide the necessary funds for Agape House.”
“So mighty and righteous of you to say that from the cheap seats. You’re not invested in this like I am.”
“No, I don’t obsess over every detail l
ike you. Or fly off the handle over some biddy’s idle threat. But don’t say I’m not invested. Because if you believe that, then you’re a fool.”
*
One step forward. Two steps back.
Was that how her relationship was going to be with Ian?
If this impromptu silent auction at Cuppa Josie’s to benefit Agape House went off without a hitch, then maybe they could make amends.
She hated the awkwardness between them over the past few days. How did things spiral out of control so quickly?
Agnes ran her hand over the curved drawers of the aqua-colored restored nightstand she’d bought at the thrift store for a couple of bucks. The piece needed some attention and TLC to restore its purpose. Same with the stenciled dresser, a couple of club chairs, a piecrust table she rescued from next to a Dumpster. Someone else’s trash became her treasure.
“The auction will be great.” Josie stood behind Agnes in the side dining room and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Stop worrying.”
Agnes moved a carved half-moon table against the wall under the front window. “Thanks again for letting me have the auction at the coffee shop, Sugar Pie.”
“No problem. I love the pieces you brought. But make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons.” She fluffed a red-and-yellow-patterned pillow and returned it to the twin bed frame Agnes had turned into a bench. “People can browse in this room. You’ve given them a lot of choices.”
When Agnes first came up with the idea of auctioning off some of her restored pieces, Josie had offered her the side dining room at the coffee shop. Nick had cleared out the tables, which gave plenty of space to arrange the furniture, giving prospective buyers room to browse.
“If I sell everything I brought in, it’ll just be a drop in a bucket compared to what Wally was donating, but I want to help Charlotte recoup a little of what she’s losing.”
“What happened was not your fault.” Josie tucked a stray curl back into her messy bun.
“If I hadn’t opened my big mouth, then Evelyn wouldn’t have been provoked into sending those letters and ole Willy Banks wouldn’t have pulled his funding.”
“You don’t know that. Evelyn has been vocal since Zoe’s arrest.”
A dull ache pulsed in the pit of Agnes’s stomach. “Ian was so upset. I need to do something to show how sorry I am.”
“You’re doing it again, Agnes. Ian isn’t Bobby. His love isn’t conditional.” Josie moved out of the dining room and headed for the kitchen.
Agnes followed. “I screwed up, Josie.”
“No, you didn’t. Ian cares for you. This is going to blow over.”
As promised, she’d told Josie the other day what was going on with Ian, but had asked her to keep it to herself. Agnes and Ian had decided to keep their focus on finishing Agape House. She had, however, enjoyed their stolen moments together.
“Okay, enough of my bellyaching. Are you sure a silent auction is the best way to do this?”
“Yes, we’ll keep the auction going until eight o’clock, which will give everyone all day to bid. Once the auction ends, we’ll sort through the bids and determine who won each item. We can call them tomorrow and remind them they have twenty-four hours to pay and pick up their furniture.”
“Do you think we’ll raise much?”
“Agnes, anything will be appreciated, so stop worrying.”
“Are you positive you don’t want a percentage of the profits?”
“No, Agape House needs all the funds. Besides, most of them people coming in to bid will want drinks and food anyway, so I’ll do just fine.”
The bell above the front door jangled against the glass. Agnes fixed a smile on her face, pushed through the kitchen door and headed to the dining room to begin her day.
Throughout the day, a steady stream of people came in to browse and bid. More than once, people asked Agnes if she’d consider restoring some of the junk they’d thought about donating or throwing out.
She pressed her business cards into their hands and recommended they check out her website, then suggested they give her a call.
By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Agnes’s feet ached and her bones felt like soggy toast. She locked the front door and turned the open sign to Closed. All she wanted now was to crawl under the covers and sleep for at least three days.
No chance of that happening.
Josie rubbed the small of her back and sighed loudly as she settled onto the couch in front of the fireplace. Kicking off her shoes, she said, “Let’s finish this thing.”
“You go home. I can tally the bids.”
“Are you kidding? I’m excited to see how much money your pieces brought in. Who knows—maybe it will be a new fund-raising idea for other organizations.”
Half an hour later, Josie punched the final number into her calculator, then grinned. “Way to go, Agnes! You scored three thousand dollars. Congratulations!”
“Are you serious?” Agnes gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Someone tapped on the front door. Agnes looked up to find Ian peering in the window. A rush of butterflies danced in the pit of her stomach.
Avoiding Ian’s eyes, she unlocked the door and let him in. “What are you doing here?”
“I tried calling, but I got your voice mail.”
“My battery died. My charger is at home. I’m tired and need to finish up here, so…” She trailed off, letting him determine his next move.
“Mind if I wait and take you home? I’d like to talk.”
“Fine.” She turned and waved a hand toward the couch and two matching chairs set in a semicircle in front of the fireplace. “Feel free to sit. I’ll be a few more minutes.”
“If you two will excuse me, I’m going to finish up in the kitchen.” Josie pushed off the couch, slid her feet back in her shoes and headed for the kitchen.
Instead of sitting, Ian wandered into the side dining room and ran his hand across a stenciled dresser. “What’s going on in here?”
Agnes pressed a hand to her stomach. Would he think her idea was silly? Pitiful? “We had an all-day silent auction with all the proceeds benefitting Agape House.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I felt bad about Wally Banks pulling his contributions, so I wanted to do something to help out a little.”
“Red, you’ve done so much for Agape House already. This was totally unnecessary. Where’d this stuff come from?”
“Pieces I had sitting around in Mama’s garage. I had some time on my hands the past couple of days.”
He reached out and grabbed her arms. Instead of letting go, he slid his hands around her shoulders. “I can’t believe you did all of this practically overnight.”
She kept her hands on his forearms, still feeling a little wounded by his words the other day. “Why not? My big mouth can be used for good, too, you know.”
He released her and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I was a jerk for what I said.”
“Yes, you were.” Why let him off the hook so easily? “You really need to loosen up, Ian.”
“I can’t just sit back and do nothing.” He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his khaki shorts and walked to the window overlooking Main Street. A muscle jumped in the side of his jaw.
She walked behind him and placed a hand on his back. “No one’s saying that, but you can’t freak out every time something doesn’t go according to plan. I’m going to finish up so we can get out of here and head home.”
He turned and grinned. “I love the sound of that.”
She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder, but didn’t deny she did, too. “You know what I mean.”
Less than half an hour later, Ian pulled into her driveway and shifted the engine into Park. Then he hurried around and opened her door, extending a hand to help her out. “Want to walk down to the dock?”
She stood by his SUV and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’d love to, but I’m so
exhausted. Today was a long day.”
“There’s always tomorrow.”
She loved the sound of that.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and ushered her to the door. She pulled his head toward her and kissed him. “Good night, Ian.”
“Good night, love.” Silhouetted by the moon, Ian walked back to his SUV, started it, then disappeared into the night.
The simple endearment provided a soothing balm to her wounded spirit.
Chapter Thirteen
Attending the Shelby Lake Founder’s Day Celebration with Ian shouldn’t have been a big deal. After all, they’d attended the parade, the carnival and fireworks together since she was twelve.
As friends, though, not a couple.
With so many people around, privacy was impossible. She appreciated Ian making an effort not to publicize their relationship. Although he did do the occasional hand graze and take advantage to whisper in her ear.
They stood in the shade of the carousel and waved at Josie and Nick sitting on one of the benches holding Noah between them while Hannah rode a purple horse with stars on its mane.
The sweet smell of cotton candy and candied apples mingled with the grease from the French fry stand, making her mouth water.
Two teen girls from her Sunday school wearing denim shorts with cowboy boots passed by and waved. They rushed in line for the Tilt-A-Whirl behind a couple of cute guys.
Agnes remembered those days.
Screams from the adventurous spirits on the roller coaster swarmed over their heads as young children on the miniature fire trucks circled a small track.
Agnes pinched off a piece of the pink cotton candy and stuffed it in her mouth, savoring the melting sugar on her tongue. “You sure you don’t want any?”
“No, thanks. That’s a toothache waiting to happen.”
“You’re no fun. Nothing wrong with indulging in a little sugar.”
“I’m all for a little sugar.” He winked and gave her a slow grin that sent warmth crawling across her cheeks. “You go ahead. I’m holding out for an elephant ear.”
“Those things will clog your arteries.”
“Hey, you got what you wanted. Now it’s my turn.”