She slipped around Ramsey, away from the counter, and moved to the bookshelf. “I thought perhaps she’d hollowed out one of these books and hid the key there, but no such luck.”
The corners of his lips slipped up into a tiny smile. “One thing isn’t so different. You’re still good at changing the subject when you need to.”
She realized her hands were twisting together, and she tucked them into her jean pockets. “Ramsey, my life is crazy right now. Can I just have a little more time?”
His eyes narrowed, but then he laughed. “Of course,” he said softly. “Will you be at church in the morning?”
Lowering her eyes, she shook her head. “I’ll try to come next week.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. For the outing.”
“Yes.”
He walked out the door.
Darcy sank down on the steps. When Linus sauntered over to her, she buried her face in his fur. She clung to him for quite some time, as the sinking sun splashed end of day light through the shop windows.
8 outing in the park
P eople of all ages bustled with blankets and sheets, spreading them out over patches of grass until the hill looked like a giant crazy quilt. Grandmas fluffed pillows and children with round, excited eyes sucked on the straws of juice boxes.
Ramsey adjusted his sunglasses and pointed to a bare spot with the cooler he was carrying. “That area looks good to me. Not too close to the movie screen and only a short skip to the snow cone stand.”
“You know me well, kind sir.” Darcy went to the place he’d indicated and plunked down the folded chairs she’d been lugging. “When will the movie start?”
Ramsey unfolded the two lawn chairs and sank into one of them. “Sun’s gone, so any minute. Have you seen My Man Godfrey?”
“Only about five times,” Darcy admitted. “But I love William Powell, so I don’t mind watching it again. And I’ve never been to an outdoor movie. They don’t have these in Beverly Hills.”
“The parks and rec department began this program a few years ago. First time they’ve had one in the spring.” Ramsey glanced around. “Looks like it was a good idea. Most of the town’s here.”
He put his arms behind his head and leaned back. Darcy couldn’t help but notice his muscles ripple under his t-shirt sleeves. Stands to reason. I’m sure he gets a good workout installing car engines all day.
She looked away, cheeks blazing, and hoped he hadn’t noticed her stare. An angry buzz came from her purse and she pulled out her phone to check the screen. Jared. Why can’t he realize it’s over?
Darcy shoved the device back into her bag. She scooted her chair closer to Ramsey’s. I’m going to have a good time tonight, no matter what.
Darkness fell and the crowd grew silent. Old time orchestra music blared through stacks of speakers on either side of the two-story high inflated movie screen. A black and white title flashed up, and everyone clapped.
Ramsey’s eyes focused on the screen, and his lips moved along with some of the dialogue.
Darcy found herself staring again, this time at his hands as he fiddled with a small wooden cross hanging from a cord around his neck. Tough and capable, with a few light grease stains the strongest soap couldn’t remove. Seven years ago, she hadn’t slept a wink that first night after she flew home. She’d played the kiss over and over in her mind. Counted down the days until the next summer. But her father had surprised her with a trip to Europe after she graduated, and then plans and obligations and courses kept tumbling over each other in impossible avalanches.
Plenty of handsome men had asked her out over the years. They made her feel beautiful and important, just to drop her for the next pretty girl who came their way. And Jared. He treated her like his favorite pair of cufflinks, something to adorn his arm when he went to a business party or family get-together.
Ramsey’s eyes lit up whenever she talked, and he always listened and acted interested in what she had to say. He knows who I am, inside, and cares about that person.
She wanted to reach for his hand, but instead, she closed her fingers around her cool soda can. I asked for time, and he’s respecting that. I should give myself a little space--I don’t want to ruin this. I’d rather have nothing happen now than to destroy the memory of that one kiss.
Taking a deep breath, she willed her body to relax. This was supposed to be a fun evening, and she needed a break. The playful banter from the film soaked into her soul, and she found herself swept away into a land of mansions, butlers, and madcap schemes.
It seemed like only a few moments had passed when “The End” flashed on the screen. Belongings were gathered and sleepy children roused as families hurried to avoid the inevitable parking lot bottleneck.
Ramsey swiveled his head to gaze at her, cobalt eyes flashing in the projector light. “Want to leave our stuff here and go walk along the river? They have lampposts now. It’s what you California folks might call ‘small town charm.’”
Darcy shrugged. “Sounds good. But what about our stuff?”
“It’s Wimber.” Ramsey gestured to the crowd. “I don’t think any of these folks want a mechanic’s battered cooler.”
They made a little pile with their folded chairs and ice chest, and then walked across the field to the paved river trail. Giant cypress trees rose on either side of them, greedy roots soaking up the endless supply of water. Wrens and mockingbirds called out their goodnights throughout the treetops, and a raccoon scampered across the trail on the way to check out food scraps left by the movie guests.
“I don’t think of myself as an ‘L.A. Girl.’ Even though I lived most of my life there, my heart and soul have always belonged to Wimber.” Darcy picked up a twig and began to run it against the poles of a cast iron fence that ran beside the path. The stick made a rusty, tuneless sound.
“But you have to admit, you’ve changed.” Ramsey took her hand in such a swift motion Darcy didn’t have a chance to pull away. He turned it over and touched a spot on her palm with a gentle fingertip. “Here’s a callous or two, brand-new little baby things.” He examined her fingernails. “But the Darcy I knew had never touched a bottle of nail polish, let alone graced the doorway of a manicure shop. Hard to believe you’ve done any kind of work with these claws.”
“Stop teasing me.” Darcy tugged her hand back with a smile. “So, I’ve grown up a little bit. Doesn’t mean I’m not able to work hard.”
Ramsey’s smile faded. “I would never say that. You’re a determined, intelligent woman. I don’t know anyone that could have done better with that shop than you have. Plus, you earned your business minor, I bet that’s helped.”
The stick snapped in half, and Darcy flung it into the river. It made a faint splash when it landed, somewhere in the dark current. “How’d you know I went to college?”
“Mom told me after the funeral. I guess she heard about it from your parents.”
A long, wooden dock had been built at the end of the river path. Darcy leaned out on the railing. The never-ending rush of the river sounded beneath her, and a light breeze blew her hair in tangles around her face. She pushed back her unruly locks. “What else did she say about me?”
“She told me about your surgery, why you didn’t make it down. I was disappointed you weren’t there. Even though you had a good reason not to be.”
“Yeah. I hated missing Gran’s funeral. I felt like it just added to the betrayal of staying away for such a long time.” Tears smarted in the corners of her eyes. “We were packing to come down when the pain hit. I thought I was going to die.”
“Charley had cancer.” These words were mumbled, Darcy barely made them out.
She gripped the rail so hard her knuckles turned white. “What? When?”
Ramsey looked up, his eyes sagging at the corners. “Two years ago. Sore in his mouth wouldn’t go away. They put him through radiation and he made a full recovery, but it was scary.”
“Ramsey.” She put her hand on
his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Come on, Darcy, we hadn’t written in years. I had no idea Mom sent you the engagement announcement. Everything just rolled downhill from there. “
Then Veronica realized she loved Charley more, and left you for him. Darcy filled in the words that didn’t have to be spoken.
She squeezed his wrist and let it go. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”
Ramsey nodded. He glanced back at her. “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe I brought that up. He covered his face with his hands. “Like I’m trying to one-up your surgery or something. When you mentioned being in the hospital while the rest of your family was down here for a funeral. It brought it all back.”
“No, I’m glad you told me. I mean, we used to tell each other everything.” Darcy sat on a wooden bench and tucked her knees under her chin.
“Yeah. I’ve missed having you around to tell things. Especially since you actually respect my choices. My aunts and uncles, the folks at church—most wanted me to leave town, to make something of myself. But I love it here.” He gazed out, over the river. “Why leave something you love?” The corner of his mouth twitched.
A familiar flutter rose in Darcy’s chest, and she squeezed the edge of the bench with clenched fists. More than anything, she wanted to scoot over the few inches that kept her from Ramsey’s side. He would put his arm around her and it would all be the same. Except so much more. It would be so easy.
Darcy lifted her chin and sighed. Something large, perhaps a fish, splashed out in the river. Her phone buzzed again. She pulled it out. ‘Miss you. Call me.’ She pursed her lips and hit the ‘block caller’ button.
“Anything important?” Ramsey asked.
Tucking her phone away, she shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
The dock shuddered. Ramsey tapped his foot, stilled it. Tapped again. Finally, he rose and held out the crook of his elbow. “Shall we go?”
Darcy craned her neck back to give the stars a silent farewell. She stood and took his offered arm. “Yes. But let’s come back here soon.”
9 Agatha
T uesday. As usual, the slowest day on Main Street. Darcy stood at the door, watching the empty street as though she could will customers to appear with her mind. The flowers in the front yard looked a bit dry. I’ll head out and give them a drink.
As she watered the brilliant red Turk’s Caps, which looked exactly like their name, she surveyed the property. Miss Lorinda had suggested she find some wrought iron pieces to display for sale in the front. Every home decorating show she watched lately seemed to feature wrought iron projects, and many customers had asked if she had pieces to sell. Plenty of space to fill between the flower beds. I just don’t want to look like a junk yard. If I put something out here, it needs to be tasteful, and not too jumbled. Though judging from some of the rambling front lawns in town, neatness wasn’t the top priority. She’d passed toilets-turned-planters, rusted bicycles and tire pyramids with herbs sprouting from the sides.
Maybe I could hang some things from the wooden archway back here. As she squinted up at the apparatus, a movement from the tangled vines on the fence line caught her eye. She peeked over the fence.
The African-American woman Darcy had seen a few weeks ago was there, working in a garden that glowed with flowers of every hue. With gloved fingers, the woman pruned dead leaves from fragrant rose bushes. A straw hat shaded her wrinkled face from the spring sun that filtered through a canopy of red, pink and lavender crepe myrtles. A few white curls peeked from under the brim and spilled over her shoulders.
“Good morning!” Darcy leaned over the wooden slats. “Are you the famous Mrs. Agatha I keep hearing about?”
The woman glanced up, her dark eyes sparkling. “Don’t know how famous I am, but I’m Agatha. Don’t need the Missus, I’m just me.” She pulled off a worn gardening glove and stuck a calloused brown hand over the fence.
Darcy shook it with a smile. “Nice to meet you. I came by a few days ago, but the sign was turned to CLOSED and I didn’t see anyone.”
Agatha removed her other glove and waved her hand. “No time like this very present. Come around through the gate.”
Darcy clasped her hands in front of her. “I have to tell you,” she said as she walked through the white board gate, “I’ve always longed to see inside your cabin. I know it was evil of us, but when I was a little girl, my friend and I snuck through the fence and peeked through the windows. But it was too dark to see inside.”
“You must have been little scamps!” Agatha chuckled. “My parents owned the building, but at first it wasn’t a shop. My family lived here for a time, until a passel of children came along and my folks had to buy a bigger place. When my parents went on to glory, it was passed down to my brother, who used it for storage. He gave it to me a few years ago, thought I could make better use of the place.”
“And I guess you did.” Darcy smiled.
“Of course I did!” Agatha moved down the path in quick, sure steps. “What woman doesn’t have a tiny dream of running her very own little shop, with shelves and barrels and jars of all the things she loves best? And how blessed we are to have that dream realized?”
“We are blessed, indeed,” Darcy replied.
The small cabin didn’t look large enough for one person to live in, let alone a ‘passel of children.’ Darcy imagined kids hanging out of the windows and doors, like the old woman’s shoe in her childhood nursery rhyme book. The exterior walls were red stained logs. The roof was fashioned from dark brown shingles that looked like large chocolate shavings.
The elderly woman walked up the wooden front steps of the porch and piled her gloves and hat on a giant wooden spindle that served as a table. “I owe you an apology. I wanted to come and introduce myself sooner, but a flu bug buzzed up into my head. You would’ve thought the Devil himself was standing outside my door with his pitchfork the way the family carried on. My sisters, April and Early, barely let me out of bed to brush my teeth and their children made me so much chicken soup I could of swam away in it. But I’m fine now.”
She tipped her head to the side. “You favor your grandma, you know. Same eyes and smile.” Opening the battered screen door, she beckoned Darcy into the little shop.
“I want to be more like her, she was a wonderful woman.” Darcy stepped into the dimly lit space. Scents of lavender, basil and a dozen other herbs hit her senses. Though the fragrances were strong, the mixture wasn’t unpleasant, and Darcy felt healthier just for breathing.
The shop was only a few paces long, with room for two or three people to browse at a time. Bundles of herbs swung from hooks on the ceiling, along with a twisted iron bird cage. A white cockatoo gave Darcy a baleful look and went back to talking to himself in his little mirror. Buckets overflowing with mysterious bottles and containers lined the walls. Along a high window sill stood rows of jars, some with caterpillars crawling on the glass sides.
“Oh, are these the ones you collect to donate? What an interesting hobby.” Darcy stopped to watch a particularly industrious fellow climbing to the top of a jar, only to fall down and start over. “Kayla said you photograph them as well? Do you have any pictures here?”
“Light’s not good enough to show photos.” Agatha shrugged. “Your grandma had a Luna photo I did a couple years back. It was above the cash register, I think.”
“You mean the big green moth in the silver frame? That’s one of my favorites. I’ve had a few customers ask about it and I didn’t want to sell the original. Maybe I could get prints from you to sell?”
Agatha smiled. “That might be nice. Glad to know folks like it. I found that moth under the air conditioner one morning, a bright gleam in the shadows.” She shuffled to the back of the shop and sat down on a bench beside the counter. “Never know what I’ll find under the air conditioner.”
Darcy walked over to a wall of glass containers filled with small soaps. She removed the top from one to sniff the contents. “
I can’t see how you could have stayed sick for long with all these herbs at your disposal.”
“That’s just what I said to my sisters. Let me get to the shop. I can fix myself right up. But no, they wanted me to make a list and send them over here.” Agatha shook her head. “As if I’d allow those two sillies to pilfer my shelves. I love my sisters, really I do, but they wouldn’t know peppermint from wormwood.”
“It all looks like dried flowers and leaves to me,” Darcy admitted. “I can understand their confusion.”
“Kind of like me and fine china.” Agatha picked up a bar of soap and turned it over in her hands. “I never care what the dish looks like. I only want the treat. Especially if it’s cake.” She settled the soap back in its bed of burlap. “Miss Lorinda tells me you’ve been running the shop. How is that working out for you so far?”
Darcy pursed her lips. “I’m doing better than I thought I would. The hardest thing is figuring out how to juggle the tasks. And the math. But at least I found a good accountant.”
Agatha nodded. “You gotta pay Uncle Sam. I had an audit last year. IRS man tried to tell me I couldn’t use my goats for a tax write off. I took him on a tour of my farm and showed him my pens and yards. That material isn’t cheap!” She shook her head. “My best nanny, Praline, kicked the cell phone right out of his hand while he was taking a picture. I felt bad for the man, but honestly. They aren’t gonna catch me cheating the system. We work our fingers to the bone for every penny we earn on this street.”
Darcy sighed. “I’m trying to keep all my receipts. I need to spend some time with Mr. Blott and figure out what to keep track of. Makes my eyes glaze over just thinking about it.”
“Mmm Hmm.” Agatha put her hands on her hips. “You’ll get it, honey. We all do.”
Tangled in Time, (Miss Main Street Book 1) Page 7