by Pat Dale
As they worked in comfortable silence, she marveled at the smooth teamwork between them. No desires stated, no commands given, in fact not a word spoken. It was as though they’d done the chore together countless times before.
She felt the heat of his proximity. Funny, but she’d never noticed anything remotely like this before. Her gaze wandered over his physique. He seemed so masculine, something she found enormously comforting.
Never one for macho muscle-bound activities, he did represent a kind of male strength; the kind she appreciated as a woman. There was nothing remotely effeminate about the way he handled the dishes. His long arms and broad shoulders were graceful but manly as he maneuvered the plates and glasses into the cupboard.
He broke the silence. “A penny for your thoughts.”
“What? Oh, I was just daydreaming.”
“I see. Are you worried about tomorrow?”
“Worried? No, I wouldn’t call it worried, but I’m anxious. I’ve been able to keep those guys off balance so far. And that’s right where I want them, off balance and on their heels.”
“Would you like for me to come along tomorrow and lend moral support?”
“Moral support? No. You were right when you said I have to fend for myself.” After seeing the sudden look of hurt on his face, she was sorry she’d spoken so bluntly. “Brad, I appreciate your willingness to help, but this really is something I think I can handle better on my own.”
“I have no doubt of that. Hattie McCall is easily a match for the likes of Barry Goodnow and crew.”
He placed the last dish in the cupboard. “All done and in record time, too. We make a good team.”
“Funny you should say that. I was thinking the same thing a few minutes ago.”
“Back when you were daydreaming?”
“Yes.”
He’d felt the tingling magnetic pull, too. Without making it obvious, he’d kept his peripheral vision squarely on her enticing figure as they worked. Something inside told him she still held all the attraction for him he’d experienced years earlier.
Except, now she’s not a little girl anymore. What he felt was somehow magnified because of that. “Was there anything more to your daydream?”
“No!” Her face went hot. She couldn’t reveal she’d been wondering whether this domestic scene could have been a long-standing ritual if she hadn’t broken it off a decade ago.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Why?”
“Oh, I think about us from time to time, and I have the strong impression you do, too.”
“About us? I don’t understand.”
“Hattie, don’t you ever wonder what could have happened if you hadn’t cut me off the way you did?”
“I didn’t cut you off.”
“Call it what you want. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I never gave up on you. Believe me. And to answer your question truthfully, yes, I think about us.”
Endlessly. Hopelessly. I rarely think of anything else. But how can I tell you something like that?
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately.”
What’s he trying to say? What I wanted to hear years ago in the halls of Leadburg High, that he couldn’t live without me and would wait forever if it took that long? But if he felt that way, why did he go off with that other girl?
“Hattie?”
She snapped back to the present, but didn’t speak.
“Where were you just then?”
“Right here, Brad. I just remembered how long it took you to find a replacement for me. About ten minutes, if my memory hasn’t failed me.”
“That’s not true. I never replaced you.”
“That’s a big laugh. Ask Julie Evans. Ask the whole school. You really showed how much you cared about me.”
His hazel eyes seemed to shimmer as he stared at her. “I—I guess I didn’t handle things very well back then. But the way you rejected me like I meant nothing to you, hurt me. It really hurt.”
“For how long? Until you could fall into Julie’s arms?”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I only asked her out because I figured you already had another date. I didn’t want to miss the prom because I needed to be there to see who’d beaten me out with you.”
“Nobody beat you out.” She wanted to avoid saying more, but the pain in his eyes was too much. Time for the truth. “I didn’t have another date, Brad. I wanted you.”
“You had me. So why did you break it off?”
Her chest felt like it would explode. Tears welled up in her eyes as she sputtered, “My mother made me. She thought I was falling for you and might do something stupid.”
“Something stupid? I don’t understand.”
Hattie whispered, “She was right. I’d have done anything you asked me to do. Anything.”
He reached out his arms and folded her into them, then squeezed her nearly breathless. “Dear sweet, Hattie. I think maybe we both did something really stupid.”
“Um-hum,” was all she could manage through the lump in her throat. She looked into his eyes. No enigma, no curtain of solitude. Only the look of love, pure and simple.
Their lips met briefly, parted, then came together in a kiss that left them gasping for breath. It was the kiss all over again, multiplied a thousand times. Her heart sang as wave after wave of tingling sensation pulsed through her, leaving her limp with emotion.
They’d paused and were just kissing again when they heard a small voice from the dining room. “Brad? Hattie? Did you two do the dishes already?”
He held her close for a couple of seconds and then dropped his arms to his sides. “Yes, Mom. We just finished.”
Hattie hadn’t moved. Her eyes were shut and she was holding her breath, willing the moment to last, still feeling the wonderful pressure of Brad’s sensuous lips on hers.
“Oh, that’s nice, dears. Thank you.” Amelia stepped into the kitchen and looked from one to the other. “Did I interrupt anything?”
His face flamed as he tried to reply. Hattie opened her eyes and smiled. “Oh no, Amelia. We were just catching up on some old-time school gossip. Right, Brad?”
“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I guess we were.”
“Well, I hope you got it all straightened out.”
“We did that, Amelia. We did that.” She grinned, basking in Brad’s embarrassment.
“I’m sorry you got snookered into helping with the dishes, dear. Brad shouldn’t have asked for your help.”
“He didn’t. It was my idea, and I didn’t mind at all. It was fun.”
Brad chimed in, “Yes, it was. Fun.” He was grinning now.
Hattie looked from son to mother. “I think I’d better get on home. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
“Yes, you want to be ready for that. But please come back soon, Hattie. We just love having you here.”
“I will. Soon.” She winked at Brad. “The evening has been wonderful. Thanks again for a great meal."
The lady called out, “Hattie?”
She looked at Amelia and was startled by what she saw. For the first time, she noted an enigmatic expression, nearly a twin of Brad’s. Why had she never realized how much he favored his mother?
“Yes, Amelia?”
“I was wondering if you might like to go to church with us on Sunday. I remember the old days when your family and ours sat together every week. We have a new pastor now, but everything else is pretty much the same.”
A vision of days gone by flashed through her mind. She indeed remembered those times. Sitting next to Brad, sometimes longing for him to hold her hand, and the day he finally did. But that was only a few days before her world crashed around her. Numbness claimed her as she wondered whether holding hands and sneaking kisses in church had been the reason her mom made her devastating demand.
“I think I’d like that. They may not be too eager to see me there, though. I haven’t been to church in a long time.”
<
br /> “I wouldn’t worry about that, dear. Most young people go through a time when they feel they don’t need God. My guess is that everyone will be more than delighted to have you back.”
“Then I’ll plan on it. This Sunday?”
“Of course.”
Hattie’s face flushed with pleasure. Going to church was something she’d missed for years. Her rebellion had been more from animosity against her mom in the beginning. After staying away for such a long time, it had seemed she wasn't worthy anymore. She’d never given up her belief, but the inertia from not attending had become overwhelming.
“I’ll look forward to it. Thanks for asking me.”
Amelia said nothing, but her expression cleared. Hattie started for the front door when Brad stepped past her and opened it. “I’ll walk you to your car, Hattie.”
Amelia stood just inside while he took her hand and strolled across the leaf-strewn lawn to the car. They turned to each other and stopped. After an awkward few seconds of silence, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
“I almost forgot. I have something for you.” He ran back into the house, returning moments later with some folded papers in his hand. “Here. This is something that might be of use tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Brad. Thanks for—”
His mouth cut off her words, this kiss every bit as impassioned as the earlier one. She reveled in the old but familiar thrumming sensations coursing through her. He finally released her and grinned.
“At the risk of being rejected again, would you like to go to a movie tomorrow evening?”
“A movie?” She stalled while her mind raced through the possibilities his invitation carried. “Where would we go?”
“We’re only a half-hour’s drive from South County.”
“Yes. I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six. Maybe we can get a bite to eat on the way. Goodnight, Hattie. I love you.”
She was so stunned she couldn’t reply. By the time she’d recovered, he was on the porch, waving to her as Amelia stepped out beside him.
Hattie returned the gesture and slid into her car. “I love you, too, Brad. I really do love you.”
Chapter Eight
Hattie’s bed was covered with clothing. She’d already dressed twice, each time changing her mind and tossing the discards aside. She emerged from her closet again, this time in the navy blue wool-blend business suit she’d gotten for her one and only teaching interview. The mauve silk blouse she chose heightened the natural color in her face.
She slipped into two-inch navy power pumps and stepped in front of the mirror. The added height helped. Not bad, but when she buttoned the jacket she wondered if her chest had finally gotten bigger. She shrugged and released the button. It wasn’t necessary to be so formal, anyway.
When she slid into the car, the papers from last night were still on the passenger seat. She hadn’t been in a mood to examine the gift when she came home. At the memory of their tender parting, she grew warm again.
She opened the papers and read them. Apparently, Brad researched Wilson’s business acquisitions. Several categories were listed; most importantly a comparison of the prices Wilson paid for a number of similar sites around the country. She sucked in her breath at the typical amounts. Not only were they much more than she’d anticipated, but most of the sites were actually smaller than hers.
Armed with these newfound facts, Hattie set out for the restaurant with great resolve. She’d soon know for sure whether they were trying to lowball her.
Barry Goodnow was seated at the center of the large dining table with Bill Prince on one side and Charlie Durgeon on the other. Chuck Manley was nowhere to be seen.
That was good. Hattie didn’t want him anywhere near. The last thing she needed was that jerk hovering round right now.
She lollygagged toward the men with a hesitating gait, keeping her eyes lowered until she was across from them. “Good morning, gentlemen. Mr. Goodnow.”
“Morning, Henrietta. Please call me Barry. I think we’ll be more comfortable if we keep everything informal. Have a seat.”
“Informal is good.” She slipped into the remaining chair and looked anxiously at him. “I’m not sure how to proceed.”
He gave her his crocodile grin. “Not to worry, my dear. We do this all the time. Just relax and we’ll get through things just fine.”
Barry looked from one assistant to the other. “Right, men?”
“Right,” both spoke at once.
“Well, I’m relieved. This is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Barry’s veneers shone like the teeth of a sawmill blade bearing down on the hapless hamstrung heroine. “The first thing, I would say, is for me to give you our offering price for the parcel in question. I dare say, you may be surprised. Most landowners in your position have no idea how much their tract is truly worth to us.”
“I see. Well then, why don’t you go right ahead and surprise me, Barry.”
“Very well. My understanding is that you own the one-hundred-sixty acres free and clear. It is actually twenty acres more than we need. However, the extra parking space will come in handy as we expect this new store to be very busy.
“Hattie, we’re prepared to offer you a certified check in the amount of,” he paused to clear his throat, “one-hundred-sixty-thousand dollars for clear title to the property.”
Her eyes sprang open. “Surprised? I’m stunned. That’s what you’re offering me, a hundred-and-sixty-thousand dollars for that old property?”
“That’s right, Henrietta.” Barry smiled at Prince and Durgeon with raised eyebrows. “A thousand dollars an acre. I knew you would be surprised, even stunned.”
“Well, gentlemen, you certainly do know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”
He pulled a paper from his briefcase and laid it on the table. “I was sure you’d be pleased. Since you’re prepared to accept our offer, I have the contract all ready. Would you like to lock in your money by signing now?”
“Surprised, yes. Stunned, yes,” Hattie growled. “But pleased? Not on your life, Mr. Goodnow.” She jumped to her feet. “Insulted is more what I feel right now.”
The man slumped back into his seat as though he’d been slapped. “I don’t understand, Miss McCall.”
“You’ve paid more than double that for each of the last six lots where you’ve built. Much more than double. And most were on inferior lots, not the clear level bedrock site I happen to own. Old it may be, but it’s the closest thing you’ll find to what you need if you’re to build around here.”
Goodnow, to his credit, didn’t lose composure. To be sure, his face went red and his prominent Adams apple bobbed precipitously for a few seconds. But he never lost that ingratiating smile. “What did I tell you, boys? This little lady is a born negotiator.”
When his eyes again focused on her, they didn’t convey the smile still pasted on his face. “Congratulations, Miss McCall. You’re obviously not the novice negotiator you would have us believe. And your figures are accurate. However, each of those sites had its own special considerations.”
“I’m sure they did. But they’re not the issue here.”
“Oh?”
“We’re talking about Leadburg and my father’s—my site, which has its very own special consideration.”
“And what, may I ask, would that be?”
“To get the property you have to satisfy me. You may not know it, but my father had already begun the process of building a new store on the site in question. Had he not died suddenly, it would already be under construction.”
“But he did die. And there is no construction.”
“Not quite, although contracts have been offered.”
Goodnow lost his composure for the first time. He snapped, “Is anyone under legal obligation at this time?”
She gave the man a lazy grin. “That’s for me to know, Mr. Goodnow, and for y
ou to wonder about.”
“I see. So you’re not willing to sell?”
“I didn’t say that. I bear no ill will toward you gentlemen, or your employer. Actually, had you not tried to get to me by way of Chuck Manley, our negotiations would have been much smoother.
“I could still be persuaded to sell the site to you. But I insist on a proper price, and you need to quit trying to lowball me.”
“How much, Miss McCall? Name your price.”
“Well, we could go on playing this silly game. Or you could tell me how much you had hoped to pay if I didn’t fall for your silly little ploy.”
Goodnow nodded his head and closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at her again, not only was there no warmth in his eyes, but the smile had faded. “Two-hundred-fifty grand.”
“Good. That’s better.”
“Fine,” he grated. “Then allow me to adjust the figures on the form and we can move forward with our project.”
“Better, but still not good enough. You’re short by a mile.”
The man’s face twisted into a condescending sneer. “Pray tell, what would be good enough for you, Miss McCall?”
“Double your last offer, and I might consider it.”
“Double?” Goodnow gasped. “Five hundred?”
“That’s very good. I’ll bet you were a whiz in math class.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
“That’s fine. Thinking is free over the weekend. But the price goes up an extra ten percent each day I don’t hear from you, including Monday morning after eight. Good day, gentlemen.” She marched away, leaving the three with their mouths gaping.
Hattie’s composure lasted another two minutes, just long enough for her to begin the drive back to town. Her arms suddenly began to shake so hard she couldn’t control the car. As it happened, she was just passing the site in contention. She pulled off the road and killed the engine.
Trees were in full fall foliage now as far as the eye could see. She looked across the empty lot and envisioned the store her dad intended for this place. The vision faded and blurred into one of Wilson’s stereotype megacenters, bringing tears to her eyes.