“Fancy meeting you here.” Nat and Candy almost said in unison.
“Just shopping for Dad and me. We are craving pasta tonight.”
Natalie introduced Bill Junior to Connie who almost swooned. Candy elbowed Nat. Nat spun around as if checking out the shelves and winked at Candy.
“So, this is another Candy Cane? Are all of you beautiful?” Bill had that charm that many gorgeous men had. But, he did sound sincere. Sometimes more than his dad.
The girls chuckled, and Candy replied. “Wait until you meet all of us. Thanks for the compliment.”
“Does that mean there is an ugly duckling in the group?” His laugh was deep and throaty. “I can’t believe that is so.”
“We think,” Natalie replied, “the two who are married are the most beautiful. We will accept attractive. You will have to decide for yourself. When you meet them.”
“So, when do I get to do that?”
Candy explained Noelle lives here in Newport Beach, but Cindy lives in Costa Rica, and that they were married to two brothers. Natalie wanted desperately to change the uncomfortable subject.
“That’s a nifty jacket you’re wearing, Bill. I’m guessing you rode your cycle here?”
“Thanks. Yes, it’s one my sponsor gave to me. Boots are, too.” He lifted his right foot to show them. Monograms were embellished on the outside of each boot.
Natalie and Candy exchanged glances. Connie hadn’t moved since the conversation began. She was staring like a star struck preteen at Bill. How embarrassing!
“We have to do something.” Candy pulled Nat aside and whispered in her ear. Nat nodded. “But what?”
Candy grabbed Connie’s arm and led her away. “Nice to see you, Bill. Have a good pasta dinner.”
Connie jerked her arm from Candy’s in the next aisle. “What are you doing? I just met my dream man.”
Candy spun her around, and in a stage whisper said, “He is my dream man! I met him first.”
“Oh, bungled, again.”
~
All the Candy Canes knew Connie had had numerous romances, all that had ended in disappointment. Natalie often wondered if Connie was too detail oriented. One time she asked Connie about that.
“I made a list. Of everything I want in a man,” she said. “Is that bad? I don’t want any deception like Candy had.”
Trust. Where was trust? Natalie wondered. Yes, Candy had been deceived, and it cost her and her parents a great deal to remove Dev from her life, and theirs. But, she had recovered. Prayer and attending meetings for family members of alcoholics had given her more understanding. Al-Anon had helped her through it. Now, she was whole. And excited about Bill Junior as a prospect. She hoped Connie wouldn’t jeopardize it. Candy had set her sights on Bill Junior that first morning she met him in the gym. Natalie thought that was a good match, until …
~
Nat and Candy transferred pickles from jars into double plastic bags with firm zippers, hoping the contents would get through customs without spilling. The smell of pickle juice would surely give it away. They also peeled off the jar labels that said Made in U.S.A. and re-stuck them to each plastic bag. Hopefully, the Costa Rican customs’ officers would let them pass. Cindy really needed them.
“Especially, if she really is pg.” Candy used the loose term for pregnant, but she felt in her heart she was right. Cindy is pregnant. They had all the various foods for Cindy and Rob scattered across Candy’s mother’s kitchen table when Connie tapped on the back door.
“Hey, girl! Come help. Billy is leaving tomorrow, so we need to get all this done quickly,” Natalie said. “Say, why aren’t you at work?”
“Taking a break. Waiting for inspiration for a new line.”
“Must be fun to be a clothing designer,” Candy said. “Maybe your boss could use me as a gopher. I could sure use the job.”
“I wish. It would be fun to work with you every day. And, no, it’s not always fun to be a designer. Only when you come up with something very unique. Much of the time it’s frustrating.” She smiled wanly. “You’ve heard of writer’s block.” The other girls nodded. “Well, I get designer’s block. Totally stymied, no creativity.” She changed the subject abruptly. “That Bill is quite a hunk, a real cutie. How did you meet him?”
“Uh, oh. Competition,” Natalie winked at Candy. Candy didn’t wink back.
“You have designs on him, Can? You dating?” Connie cocked her head to look directly at Candy.
“Not exactly dating. He and his dad took Nat and me out a couple of times. Dinner.”
“Heavens, I don’t want to impose. Maybe he has a friend?” She made it a question. A hopeful one Nat thought.
“I thought you were dating some model,” Candy said.
“Male models are all so phony, so into themselves. I steer clear of them now.” She caught the expressions on her friends’ faces, then they started to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“Then,” Natalie gasped between giggles, “you wouldn’t be interested in Bill.”
“What! He’s a model?”
“Not the typical kind,” Candy answered. “He does model clothes.” She hesitated. “On motorcycles.”
“You’re kidding?” Connie looked astonished. “That’s why he isn’t all scrawny and skinny. He sure looked good in that Harley tee shirt he was wearing. Oh, well.” She grabbed a plastic bag and opened a jar of pickles. “I’ll help. But, could you ask him if he has any hunk friends?”
~
Vivian Ashford wandered into the kitchen. “How are you girls coming along? Oh, hi, Connie! So good to see you.”
Another tap on the back door, and Noelle let herself in. “Just finished for the day. I had the kids in my last class acting out Macbeth. It was a treat. I’m going to entertain Braydon tonight with the video I made.” She looked at the organized piles of clothing, books and food on the table. “Looks like you are almost done. Hi, Mrs. Ashford.”
“Hi, Noelle. Goodness, this is a Candy Cane party. Where is Doreen? And what’s that other girl’s name?”
“Melanie, Mom.” Candy replied.
“Doreen’s in L.A. doing a show,” Connie spoke up. “Modeling my gimp line. Oops, that wasn’t kind, and certainly not P.C.” Still, she giggled.
“Do you have a name for the line yet?” Candy asked.
“We’re running a contest. The winner will receive a trunk load of clothes, her choice, and a lot of money would go to a female veterans’ organization, hopefully to women who have lost limbs.”
“That sounds like a terrific idea. So, how do you introduce the line now, before it has an official name?” Vivian asked.
“Right now, we are promoting it as “Unique for You.” But, it’s clear it is for women with compromised or missing limbs.”
Billy burst into the kitchen swinging a suitcase. “Here it is, gals, an empty one donated by Mom.” He surveyed the table filled with all the stuff they had accumulated to send to Cindy. “Too much,” he said. “This is not going to work.”
“Of course it will.” Candy glared at her brother. The other girls backed her up.
“We have it all figured out,” Natalie said. “The books are thin; they will line the bottom of the case. Clothes and unmentionables – turn your head away, Billy, come next. Some maybe stuffed around other things. Food last – all in heavy double zippered bags, then in a big black trash bag to separate it from the other stuff.” She stared at him. “It’s gonna work, Billy. Has to.”
He threw up his hands. “This is going to cost me a fortune to get through Customs.”
“Oh, yeh, we forgot you are poor.” Candy’s sarcasm was not lost on any of them.
“Don’t you have to pay to take a surfboard?” Connie’s question hung in the air.
“No,” he replied. “Brian, who manages the bungalows where I’ll be staying, and where Cindy and Rob live, has dozens in all sizes. He will lend, or I’ll rent.”
The girls proceeded to load the suitcase. They wished Cin
dy was here to guide them. Just as they were trying to fit in the last few items, Melanie knocked on the door.
She took one look at the bulging case. “Oh, dear. I see you need me. Sorry I’m late, but aftercare at New Hope means I can’t leave until every parent picks up every child.” She grinned at the group. “You need me,” she repeated. “You are doing this all wrong.”
It was the Candy Canes’ turns to throw up their arms. They stepped aside as Melanie unloaded all their hard work.
“First of all,” she explained, “you’ve folded everything. Naw, Naw. I know there aren’t many clothes, but you need to lay them out flat. With arms and legs hanging out of the suitcase until everything else is in.”
“B … but?”
“I know,” Melanie said, “but trust me.”
“Is there anything we did right?” Candy asked.
“Absolutely. Lining the bottom with the books is perfect. Like giving the suitcase an extra bottom.” She proceeded to take out pants and tops, mostly tee shirts and the sweater or two, then replace them laying the bodices of the shirts in the case with the arms hanging out. Pant legs hung out, too.
“Now,” she said after flipping the pant legs and sleeves in, “give me an extra black trash bag, and blow in it.”
“What?” Candy couldn’t believe Melanie’s request.
“Yes. Fill it with as much air as possible. To cushion the food.”
The girls had a fun time blowing until Billy reminded them that there was a bike pump in the garage. Face red, from blowing and laughing, Candy went to retrieve it.
“This is much better. But, won’t it take up a lot of room since it’s so inflated?”
“It will deflate over several hours, but for now, it’s a cushion. Trust me?” she asked again.
When they finished Cindy’s unmentionables and an extra pair of swim trunks for Rob had been pushed into small empty spots. Who would have guessed, Nat thought. A pair of cute underwear took up no space at all. But, they still couldn’t get the suitcase closed. At least not tightly.
Melanie shushed them. “I hope the meat you are sending is sealed well and frozen? That is key.”
Candy nodded, so did Natalie. They would get up early and place it on top of everything else in the case. Except the pickles. Those would be cold from the fridge, but not frozen.
“What time does Billy have to leave to catch his first plane? I want to be here to do the final packing,” Melanie said. Billy looked at Melanie in a kind of weird way, Candy thought. What was going on?
After the girls had disbanded and Candy was left alone with her brother, she forced herself to ask. He was often confrontational and private, especially with his sister.
“So? What was the look you gave Melanie?”
“Oh, nothing special. I just didn’t remember her that much. She’s cute.” Billy turned his head.
She grabbed his arm. “Why don’t you ask her out. Low key, maybe a coffee date.”
“I might. After I return from Costa Rica.” He gave his sister a sneer. “Maybe I will meet an exotic honey there.” Laughing, Billy stomped away.
~
Bill Senior and Bill Junior pushed their Styrofoam coffee cups around. Old Bill scooted his back and forth between both hands. Young Bill twisted his and moved it a few inches every now and then.
“So, Dad, I bow to your expertise. I don’t think either of us have had this situation before.”
“Right. It is a little weird, dad and son courting two sisters,” he said, pushing his cup again. “I know they are not blood sisters, but who would know? They sure act like it.”
“Yes, they are all very committed to each other.” He stopped to stare at his father’s hand on the squeezed coffee cup. “Do you know about Cindy? The one in Costa Rica?”
“A little. Just snippets. What?”
“She’s the one all the others are supporting. They really are all committed to each other, Dad. It’s a hard friendship to break through.” Young Bill pushed his foam cup aside, tapped his fingers on the table and rose. “Time to go,” he said with authority. He laid a bill on the table and walked to his cycle. Revving it up, he left his father in the dust.
~
Confusion. Bill Senior wasn’t sure what he felt, or even if he should feel. Both Candy and Natalie were lovely women, both of them had captured his heart. Why, he asked himself, was he going in this direction? He had only been widowed three years. He had loved and adored and felt complete.
He was lonely. Grateful to have his son in his life, but wanted the companionship of a woman. In an attempt to find companionship, and with his son’s encouragement, he’d joined groups. He’d tried, but had no interest in canasta, jazz, yoga, all the offerings at the senior center. He did like the Senior Fitness Class at Nat’s gym. But, it was not a place to meet prospective women to court. They all wore wedding rings and, although very friendly, were just that – friendly. He felt guilty about not going to church and riding last Sunday. Was his excuse of stomach cramps acceptable? Was it believable? Even to him?
CHAPTER NINE
Bill gripped the hand gears tighter. The beach was a blur on his right. He knew the waves crashed and thundered, but he didn’t look. Not even out of his peripheral vision. The helmet hindered. He was actually thankful for its hindrance. No need to look at the bleak horizon. He was heading south, and soon he would have to make a decision whether to stay inland to escape foraging a path through Laguna Beach and the Sawdust Festival crowds, or escape it. His destination? He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to end up as far south in California as possible, without crossing into Mexico. He hated Mexico. It held devastating memories. Marsha had gotten so sick there, overcome with serious, disease infected mosquito bites. They’d had to call a doctor to come to the hotel room. No, Puerto Vallarta was not a fond memory.
Coronado! Maybe Coronado would raise his spirits. He pressed on and finally crossed that hideously high bridge that led to the lovely island, or was it a peninsula? He breathed a relief sigh and rode around streets off the main highway, just for fun. It was so good to be out of Newport and away from the temptation of beautiful young women. He stopped at a pancake house and filled his belly with carbs. Burping his pleasure, he jumped on his bike. This time he followed the main street all the way out to the end point, almost to the naval base. Crossing the little bridge over the bay inlet he paused to watch the ducks and their yellow babies. Seeing new life gave him hope.
He checked in to the Loew’s Coronado Bay Resort, asked for a luxury room overlooking water of any kind. Got it. Threw himself down on the expensive bed in the cabana and fell sound asleep. His own snoring woke him up.
~
“Dad!” Bill Junior yelled into the receiver of the land line in his condo kitchen. He hung up in frustration and dialed again. Bill Senior’s cell phone went to voice mail for the third time. Where had Dad gone? Without telling him. The only time that had happened before was when Mom was dying.
He jammed the instrument back in the receiving holder and called Nat’s Gym.
“Sorry, Bill, I have no idea where your father is. Is it an emergency? Has he done this before?”
“No and no. That’s why I’m concerned. Not like him.”
“Is his car there? He didn’t come into the gym this morning. But,” she muttered, “you probably know that since I think I saw you here.”
“Car is here, but,” he hesitated, “Harley isn’t.” Bill ran his long fingers through his thick hair. Where had that crazy man gone? “That’s when I got concerned, when he didn’t show up at your place, your gym. He is usually pretty prompt. I thought maybe he wasn’t feeling well and I would find him in the hot tub when I got home. But, no deal.”
He hung up his kitchen phone just as his cell beeped.
~
“Sorry, Son. Needed to get away. Why don’t you hop on your bike and join me?”
“Just glad you are all right, Dad, but can’t. I have a shoot tomorrow, a big promotion for Harley du
ds.
“Dad, what’s bothering you?”
“Not sure I even know.” Bill Junior sensed his dad was pacing, something he often did when talking on the phone, even the one on the kitchen counter. Bill Junior waited. Finally, a big sigh and the sound of munching on chips.
“Try. I did minor in psych in college,” Bill Junior quipped. “Woman?”
“More like ‘women,’” was the reply. “Too young.”
“You mean Natalie? Or, Candy?”
“Spot on. I could in a moment bed either one.”
“DAD!”
“I know – feeling my old age. But, those girls are beautiful, real treats. Hard to get them out of my head. And, they both seem to like me okay.”
“Like isn’t love, Dad. They are both at least thirty years younger than you. Too young.” Bill gulped. “You need to find a companion your own age, maybe to even be a substitute mom to me. Someone you can trust who isn’t a gold-digger.”
“You saying you don’t trust those girls? They seem so much above board. Christians, too.”
“I don’t think they have ulterior motives, but they are young and probably impressionable.”
He slammed down the phone, called the Loew’s and secured a room near his dad’s.
~
Candy was concerned. Nat had shared her conversation with Bill Junior.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Candy wasn’t sure exactly why she was so worried about Old Bill, but she kept remembering the sensation in her knees when she had wrapped her arms around him on the cycle. She hadn’t expected it, was surprised. She had designs on Young Bill. She was so over older guys after Dev. Then why did Old Bill claim a part of her heart?
~
Billy complained loudly about the weight of the extra suitcase. He had spent the night at his mom’s because it was closer to Orange County Airport that his own digs in Dana Point. Expecting it to at least have rotating wheels, he was disappointed and, well, angry. What had those silly Candy Cane girls been thinking? At least he could check his bag and the extra one curbside, but he wasn’t sure about the Customs situation. Would he have to schlep it?
“Stop yelling, Billy.” Mom had put on her command face. “You are taking an old case of your dad’s. It was the best option. It’s super large and so scuffed up already it won’t matter if you decide to leave it there.” She turned away to flip bacon strips in the skillet. “He doesn’t need it anymore.”
Candy's Wild Ride (The Candy Cane Girls Book 3) Page 5