Charleston with a Clever Cougar: A Dance with Danger Mystery #6

by Barton, Sara M.

  The groom jumped to the pavement as the cameras came out and the flashes popped off. Tara glowed as she stepped down from the carriage and into Todd’s waiting arms. The lace gown hugged every curve of Tara’s ample body. Her hair was swept up in a cascade of curls held back with an elaborate crown woven of the same flowers I had ordered in gumpaste for the cake. Impressive indeed. The groom’s mother and father arrived, looking pleased as punch. They were followed by the bride’s mother and father. Billie Henslacker held tightly to Hank’s arm, as if she were sleepwalking in a dream, not quite believing the big day had finally arrived. She seemed to scream silently, “Pinch me.” The guests trailed after them, heading for the Soundview Ballroom.

  As soon as the the lovebirds disappeared from view, the carriage driver in the crimson uniform steered the wagon away from the hotel entrance and the spell was broken. Doc swung the van around and picked us up.

  “That was awesome!” Daisy announced. “You guys should do the carriage when you get married.”

  I took a deep breath and shook my head. “Ah, impetuous youth.”

  “What? I’m not good enough to marry? I can carry your cake but I can’t eat it, too?” Doc gave me a wink as he turned down College Street.

  “Hey, Doc,” Daisy leaned over his seat, kneeling on the floor of the van, “you should get new glasses. You’re a good-looking guy, and those things look like something from the sixties.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. They don’t do anything for you. You’re a handsome guy.”

  “Am I? Well then, you’ll be happy to know that these are an old spare pair because I sat on my good ones last week. They’re being repaired.”

  “Are they nerdy?”

  “Rimless, with a titanium frame.”

  “Cool.” Leave it to Daisy to ferret out the real truth behind Doc’s eyeglasses. I found myself wondering what he looked like with his rimless, titanium-framed pair. Those green eyes were probably even more intense.

  Three minutes later, we turned left off Main Street and onto the Boston Post Road. Doc parked the van behind the shop and we went in the back way.

  Mary and Lisa, the weekend helpers at Cady’s Cakes, were doing just fine up front. Daisy was already describing the wedding to them in great detail. I could hear the eager chatter of three girls enraptured by the idea of romantic love.

  In the kitchen, Walter was finishing up his Saturday baking before taking off for a bowling tournament. He’d be back for the usual Tuesday routine. I thanked him for all his cooperation over the last several days.

  “My pleasure, Cady. I’m glad it all worked out.”

  “Now what?” Doc wanted to know, looking at me expectantly.

  “We’re done for the day. The girls will lock up.”

  “Great. Finally a little R & R. We should probably take a drive, somewhere quiet. If we go back to your place, we’ll have to deal with squealing babies. I have a proposal I want to discuss with you.”

  “Proposal?” A part of me hit the panic button, sending out an alarm. A proposal. The word hit me hard. I wasn’t ready for that. What would I say? I couldn’t possibly agree to marry Doc. I didn’t know him well enough. And even though I really liked him, I didn’t know I was completely, utterly committed to him. I didn’t want to lose him, but I also didn’t want to be pressured into making a decision we both knew I couldn’t take back.

  “Let’s go grab a bite to eat,” Doc suggested. I felt his arm on my waist as we left through the back door. The keys seemed to slip through my fingers as I fumbled to find the right one for the lock.

  The spring sunshine was a delightful sensation on my cheeks as I walked to Doc’s van and I welcomed it as a sign of the end of a very long, very cold winter. Climbing in, I shut the door and fastened my seatbelt, all too aware of the man beside me. We drove to Pat’s Kountry Kitchen for turkey club sandwiches. Doc ordered a chocolate milkshake, sipping at his straw like an exuberant teenage boy.

  “I haven’t had one of these in years,” Doc said, enjoying the indulgence. Babies and toddlers dining with their families gurgled, cooed, and once in awhile let out an ear-splitting scream, but for the most part, it was a pleasant lunch crowd. The friendly wait staff chatted with customers and each other, bantering back and forth as the food came out of the kitchen and the empty plates, silverware, and glasses went back. There was a constant flux of customers through the foyer -- big, little, young, old, and everything in between. Families. I suddenly realized I still held the dream in my heart. I wanted to belong. I longed to be a part of a family again, to have people who cared about me, people I loved. I ached for that.

  Meanwhile, I was dreading the conversation to come, not sure how I would navigate that mine field. I couldn’t imagine how Doc would introduce the subject. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry. At last the topic seemed to turn in that direction.

  “Those triplets are a handful. I prefer my babies one at a time, the normal way,” Doc admitted, munching on a french fry.

  “Do you?” I kept my answer as noncommittal as I could. Was he telling me he wanted children? I had never really imagined myself as a mother. Too much work. Too much heartache.

  “Doug’s really going to have to man-up on this mess. Carole told me the surrogate mother donated the eggs, so technically, the babies aren’t even Mimi’s. He’s definitely the father, though, and he’d better get his act together. He’s starting to fall apart.”

  “Like he did when Carole got cancer,” I added. “Maybe that’s just Doug.”

  “You know, when you’re in combat situations, there’s nothing worse than a guy who gets the willies on you. You can’t trust him with your life, because you don’t know which way he’s going to swing. You can’t count on him in a crisis.”

  “What do you do with a guy like that?” I wondered.

  “Honestly? You put the bastard into the washer and dryer to get all the dumb off him. You keep putting him through the wringer until he comes to his senses or loses them. The truth is having a weak guy on the team can get everyone else killed. Somewhere along the way, Doug got lost. He started taking the easy way, looking out for Doug. He forgot about his team. Team is everything.”

  “I’m just afraid Carole will take him back too soon,” I confessed. “I know she’s tempted. I just want her to be happy. Maybe knowing those babies aren’t really Mimi’s biologically will help. I saw her holding one of the triplets when we left.”

  “She seems to like the idea of being needed by Doug, of being able to give back. When she got cancer, that probably threw the balance of their relationship out of whack,” Doc decided. “Who knows? Maybe those triplets will be the glue that makes them a family again. Especially if they can get Mimi to sever her legal claims. It shouldn’t be that hard. She’s a real danger to Doug and all the kids.”

  “Ugh, the trial. That’s going to be ugly,” I groaned.

  “Maybe she’ll take a plea deal.”

  “Maybe. It would be nice if Carole and the kids didn’t have to relive the horror of their experiences.”

  “They’ll be doing that for awhile, Cady. That’s one of the problems with traumatic experiences. Long after the physical scars heal, you still have to deal with the fear. And the only cure for that is to face up to it, look it square in the eye, and understand how to do it better the next time it smacks into you,” Doc told me. As I returned his gaze, I began to understand his gruffness. He’d seen a lot as a medic. Almost too much for any human to handle. “There’s no way around the cure. You can’t keep running forever and you can’t spend the rest of your life slap bandages on a gaping wound. Things happen, terrible things. It’s important we find our way out of the darkness.”

  “Not always easy to do, Doc.”

  “Whenever I come back from a tour of duty, I take the time to restore my faith in my fellow human beings. Usually, it’s not as dramatic as all this. I find some folks in need and hang around for a bit, to understand the human spirit. It’s my way
of reconnecting. It’s a reminder that there are people out there who are still good, still decent. That helps me to finish the emotional journey of coming home.”

  “It’s not enough to arrive at the airport?”

  “No. I have to know I belong here, and that I have something to contribute. Last time I left Afghanistan, I came back and joined a program to benefit senior citizens. I spent three weeks helping to renovate an elderly couple’s house with a volunteer crew. We put in a ramp, painted and patched the place up, even installed grab bars in the bathroom. They really appreciated the work we did, but they also gave back to us. They fed us, fussed over us, and shared bits and pieces of their lives. It turns out he was at Anzio during WW II. She was a nurse at a VA hospital, caring for the wounded. That’s the kind of stuff that helps put my experiences into perspective, Cady. It makes me understand that I’m not the only guy going through tough times. When I came back from Iraq, I signed on for a month as a medic for a group of volunteer firefighters battling wild fires out west. They needed my skills and I needed to see that I could save lives outside a war zone. This time around, you and Daisy needed me.”

  “So, that’s why you jumped in and rescued us after the van was hit, why you were so willing to help out at Cady’s Cakes. That makes sense. I’m really glad you were there, Doc, in more ways than one.” I smiled at him as he sat across the table, feeling like that daunting wall between us had lowered a little and I was seeing the real man. He smiled back before digging into a big piece of apple pie a la mode.

  “Good pie. I like pie.” He got a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I don’t suppose you’re any good with pie....”

  “I’ve had my share of compliments on my peach pie,” I responded. “And I won blue ribbons for my deep dish apple pie with oatmeal streusel topping.”

  As I sat watching Doc eat with gusto, I thought about how Daisy’s peril echoed my own from so long ago, and how all my own hurt had resurfaced as the danger grew for her. And yet, even as it did, I began to see it all in a new light. I was not the same person as that inexperienced teenager of long ago, saying goodbye to a dying mother. The world could still be as cruel, but I was resourceful, I was determined, and I was even courageous when it counted. And what I learned about myself had benefited Daisy. Maybe even helped to save her.

  “Let’s change the subject,” Doc suggested, as he put down his fork. He studied me carefully, as if to gauge whether his proposal would be successful. I found myself growing nervous under his scrutiny, my hands shaking in my lap, out of sight under the table as I waited to see what he would do. Down on one knee in a crowded restaurant? I hoped not. “You know how you really are a baker at heart?”

  So far, so good. He wanted to talk cake, and I was good at talking cake.

  “Yes.” I gazed into those green eyes, past the temporary nerd glasses. I thought I saw a twinkle.

  “You’re not really all that hot on the coffee roasting, are you?”

  “Why?” I was instantly curious. I couldn’t understand how coffee roasting fit into a promise of betrothal.

  “Well, what I’d like to do is rent space from you to start my own coffee company, Doc’s Brew. I’ll start the business slowly, developing it as I go. I can roast the beans for your shop and for retail. What about selling packaged coffee, for folks who want to enjoy it at home? I’d like to create a few new blends. And I’d like to do an online website. In a year or so, if it looks like there’s a market for it, I’ll quit my job at the insurance company and expand. Maybe I’ll hire a couple of vets, get a distribution plan going, and market the coffee to specialty and gift shops. I’ll invest in a bigger coffee roaster once there’s a demand for the product.”

  “This is your proposal?” I was flabbergasted. “You want to roast coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh,” I replied dully. For a moment, I almost felt disappointed. Then I reminded myself I wasn’t ready to commit myself to Doc forever.

  “What kind of proposal did you think I had in mind -- marriage? Come on, Cady. It’s a little soon for that!” he scoffed. “Maybe down the road a bit. But right now? We’re still getting to know each other. And I’m just getting back into the swing of life back in America. Remember, I’ve spent several years in the Army. I’ve got some adjusting to do. I still start sometimes when I hear a car backfire. It’s too soon.”

  “No, no. That wasn’t what I meant, Doc,” I stammered, trying to explain. Once again, I had put the cart before the horse, and the horse was rearing up on its hind legs in protest.

  “Besides, we’ve only had one date and that was interrupted by a killer, so we can’t technically call it a date, Cady.”

  “We can’t call our trip to Alforno’s a date? What was it then?”

  “Practice,” Doc grinned at me.

  “Meaning what? We start again?”

  “Why not?” he shrugged. “We’ll take our time and really get to know each other. I’ll drive down to see you, and you’ll come up to see me.”

  “You’re still taking that job?” My heart sunk at the thought of saying goodbye to Doc. I had enjoyed having him around.

  “Have to. Have to pay the bills, Cady. Have to have money to invest in the coffee business.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “It will give us the time to get used to being with each other, make sure it’s what we really want,” he pointed out. As soon as Doc said that, I realized I already knew it was what I wanted. But there was also a part of me that was looking forward to the excitement of the mating ritual. I wanted to take my time and learn all there was to know about Doc. I wanted to have the chance to miss him, so I would know for sure that I needed him. And I really wanted him to need me for me.

  “Who knows? Maybe a year from now, we’ll be planning our own wedding and practicing our dance moves.”

  “Meaning you want a big wedding?” I looked across the table at the man sitting there. I knew he was teasing me. I suspected that he already had a plan in the works, as Daisy said.

  “Absolutely. I want to shake my booty. I want to carry on like nobody’s fool. But I want to do it when I know I’ve got the right girl by my side.”

  “Does that mean I’m a contender?” I grinned, reaching across the table and taking his hand in mine. He gave it a playful squeeze.

  “Definitely.”

  Other Dance with Danger Mysteries by Sara M. Barton:

  Square Dance with a Scandalous Skunk #1

  Paso Doble with a Passionate Python #2

  Foxtrot with a Furtive Fox #3

  Bossa Nova with a Belligerent Bear #4

  Mambo with a Maniacal Mako #5

  Charleston with a Clever Cougar #6

  No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! -- Anthology #7

  Bodacious Baby Boomer Escapades by Sara M. Barton:

  Where There’s Smoke, There’s Prometheus #1

  The Deadly Secret of Dr. Arcanum Lock’s Evolutionary Spirit Project #2

  It Will Be Our Little Secret #3

  Practical Caregiver Capers by Sara M. Barton

  Murder on the High Seas #1

  The Passion Beach Psycho Strikes at Midnight #2

  The Inscrutable Case of the Nobbled Netsuke #3

  Who Snatched Aunt Marion #4

  Murder at the Mountain Vale Inn #5

  Having a Killer Time, Wish You Were Here! -- Anthology #6