by Carolyn Zane
“I put down every unmarried guy I could think of,” Travis said, scooting closer to her on the sofa so that he could read over her shoulder. She sure smelled good. Whatever Sue Ellen had told her to dab on her neck was light and feminine and smelled sort of like a big bunch of flowers. Made him want to bury his nose in her neck. He reared back as she looked up and squinted at him.
“Jake Spencer?”
“What’s wrong with Jake Spencer?”
She looked back down at the note in her hands. “Travis, what rock have you been living under? Jake Spencer and Pricilla Barrington are getting married sometime soon. Priss is expecting a baby.” Leaning toward him, she pointed at the list. “The same thing with Mitch McCord. He and Jenny Stevens got together a few months ago.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “See! I told you there are no men left for me.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry.
“Hey, now,” he said, snatching the note out of her hands. “There must be one or two people on this list who aren’t attached. Okay. These three right here.” He held the paper up for her inspection. “These three guys happen to work for me. And I know for a fact that none of them is married.”
“Hmm.” She hummed and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll check the Wanted posters for their names.”
“Very funny.”
“Well, forgive me for not exactly trusting your instincts when it comes to finding me a husband. I mean, come on, Jake? Mitch?”
“How did you know the lowdown on those guys? I mean, for crying out loud, I play poker with them, and I didn’t even know. Didn’t even have a chance to talk some sense into them.” He shook his head morosely.
“When was the last time you guys played poker?”
“Last spring, I guess.”
“Ah, well, if you want to keep up on the local goings-on, you have to get the scoop from Agnes and the gang down at the post office.” Her eyes darkened with concern. “You really would have tried to talk them out of getting married?”
He shrugged.
“You’re still pretty bitter about Elly Mae.”
Travis glanced down the hall toward his son’s room. “She didn’t hurt just me.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“You’re still serious about this whole husband-hunting business, huh?”
She nodded. “I have to try.”
He rubbed his jaw. “I sure hope you don’t end up regretting this harebrained idea.”
“I promise to learn from your mistakes.”
Reaching out, he touched her chin with his fingertip. “I hope you don’t have to.”
They sat for a moment, each thinking their private thoughts, until the grandfather clock in the family room chimed the hour.
“Midnight?” Wendy asked, surprised. “I have to get going. I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. It takes forever and a day to do my hair and put on my makeup the way Sue Ellen showed me. I don’t know how she does it.”
“I don’t know why she does it,” Travis murmured.
“Because it makes her beautiful,” she explained. “Like BambiAnn.”
“If you say so.”
She arched a quizzical brow. Why would he make a comment like that? Didn’t all men want their women to look their best? Maybe he and BambiAnn had had a tiff. At any rate, she wouldn’t worry about Travis’s opinion. He wasn’t the one she was trying to impress.
“You want to carpool again tomorrow?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Great.” She grinned. “I promise I’ll walk to the car by myself and everything.”
“I don’t know. Dusty loved how you flew down the stairs. He was convinced that you did it on purpose.” Travis laughed and squeezed her shoulder. Again, he was struck by its softness. “We should probably go out on a practice date pretty soon,” he suggested.
“Okay. How about day after tomorrow?”
“Wednesday? I think I’m free.” His grin was selfdeprecating.
“Great. I’ll talk to Faith during my lunch break tomorrow about watching Dusty on Wednesday night. Now that she’s expecting a baby of her own, maybe she could use the practice taking care of a child.” Standing, she headed toward the hall closet to gather her purse.
Travis nodded and followed her to the door. “Good idea.” There was an awkward moment before she moved down the steps and they waved goodbye to each other.
“‘Bye,” she called cheerfully.
“‘Bye,” he returned softly, and waited on his porch until she made it safely inside her house. He didn’t move until the light had gone out in her bedroom.
The bell above the door at the Baby Boutique whispered a baby-soft greeting as Wendy entered the foreign world she longed to someday become a part of. Teddy bears and dolls, mobiles and bumper pads, cribs, strollers and high chairs filled virtually every nook and cranny. Something about just walking through the door made her ache for a child of her own. The Baby Boutique even smelled like a baby. Fresh and new, and a little like baby powder and lotion.
Faith Harper looked up from where she stood behind the counter and smiled broadly at Wendy. Wendy felt something of a sister kinship with Faith that she didn’t feel with her own sister. Slender, long, light brown hair, and well liked by Agnes and the gang, Faith had always been just about as prim and proper as they come. That is, until she’d turned up pregnant almost eight months ago. Add to that the fact that Faith wouldn’t say one word about who the father of the baby was and, well, New Hope, Texas, hadn’t had so much to speculate upon in years.
Until, of course, Wendy had shocked them all out of their minds with her new look yesterday. The phone lines last night had been abuzz—possibly smoking at Agnes’s house—with the delicious story of her husband hunt. Why, today Agnes, Minny and Ethel had even stormed into the post office lobby and proclaimed loudly that Wendy Wilcox would surely go to the devil if she didn’t mend her ways. More than ever, she could sympathize with Faith.
“Hi, Wendy,” Faith called as her friend wove her way toward the counter. “I love your new look. It must be so nice to have a tiny waist like yours,” she said, her voice wistful.
“Hi, Faith,” Wendy said, smiling. “I think you’re the one who’s looking beautiful.”
“Ugh.” Faith rolled her eyes and smiled down at her burgeoning midsection. “I just wish it was over with.”
“Are you ready?” Wendy asked, then laughed and looked around. “I guess that was a dumb question. You must have everything you need.”
Faith nodded and looked at her hands. “I guess…”
Darn, Wendy thought. That was dumb. Obviously she doesn’t have the father of the baby. That must be rough. Silently berating herself for her faux pas, Wendy decided to change the subject. “Well, I just hope you can make it to the Russo wedding next month. It’s the big social event of the season. Aside from the engagement party you threw for Michael and Michelle last February, of course,” she said, and grinned at Faith who drew her lower lip between her teeth.
“Actually,” Wendy continued, “that’s the reason…I’m…here…” Wendy’s voice trailed off in concern as a look of pain flashed across Faith’s face. “Oh, honey. Are you going to be okay?” Wendy stood uncertainly, wondering what to do. She’d never spent much time in the company of a pregnant woman. What were the first signs of labor, anyway?
“I’m okay,” Faith said, smiling wanly. “Just a little indigestion.”
“Are you sure?” Wendy could boil water with the best of them, but she’d rather not, if she didn’t have to. She’d never understood what all the boiling water was for anyway. Surely it wasn’t used on the baby or the mother…
“I’m sure.” Faith nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. You were saying?”
“Oh. Yes.” Wendy leaned a hip against the counter to rest her foot. Again, her feet were killing her. “Well, as I’m sure you’ve heard by now, I’m husband hunting.”
Faith’s lips quirked up at the corners. “Agnes may have men
tioned…”
Wendy grinned. “Oh, it’s okay. It’s no secret. Everyone’s been just great about helping. Sue Ellen did my hair and makeup, and Beth remodeled my uniform…” She batted her false eyelashes and pointed at the peek a boo hole. “Personally, I think they went slightly overboard. But, hey, they promise results, so who am I?” She laughed easily, her giant sun-goddess corkscrews dancing and swaying at wild right angles. “Anyway, Travis Donovan, you know him—my neighbor? He’s giving me lessons on, you know, dating etiquette and such. I, uh, didn’t get much experience in my youth,” she admitted, blushing.
“Don’t feel bad, Wendy. Neither did I.” Faith reached out and squeezed Wendy’s hand.
Wendy knew if she confided in Faith, her friend would be supportive and wonderful. A sudden lump gathered in her throat. The people in this town were just so darn nice. Even Agnes and the gang had only her best interests at heart.
Blinking rapidly, she returned the squeeze to Faith’s hand. “Anyway, Travis and I were wondering if you’d mind watching Dusty tomorrow night so that we could go out on a ‘practice date.’ Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but we figured maybe you could use the practice yourself since you were expecting your own little bundle of energy soon.”
Faith’s head bobbed thoughtfully. “Wednesday evening? I don’t think I have anything planned. I’d love to do my part to help you get your man, Wendy.” Absently, she rubbed the bare spot on her own ring finger.
Wendy’s sigh of relief was audible. “Thanks, Faith, you’re a peach. I’ve got to get over to the diner to see if Sue Ellen can come over tomorrow night and help me put my hair up for my date. Then I’ve got to get back to the post office. It’s been unusually busy there lately.” She frowned. “I’m selling one-cent stamps like there’s no tomorrow. Anyway—” she smiled at Faith “—Travis will bring you over to our place after work. His, I mean. His place. We’re carpooling this week. Thanks so much for this.”
Faith tenderly patted the baby beneath her breast. “Oh, don’t thank me yet. I have a feeling you may be returning the favor one of these days.” She smiled as Wendy tottered unsteadily toward the door on her new high heels.
The soft bell announced her departure. “I’d love that,” Wendy said, clutching the front door to keep from falling over. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
5
Wendy stared, unseeing, down the drain of her bathroom sink. Moments before she’d been rinsing and cleaning her bright blue aquamarine contact lenses. Now they were enjoying the interior view of her plumbing as they made their way toward the New Hope sewage treatment plant.
Don’t panic, she sternly warned herself, taking deep, fortifying breaths of air. What, in heaven’s name, had possessed her to put her old glasses in the charity bag? Hour Optical wouldn’t open again until tomorrow morning, so, until then, she was stuck.
Why, Lord? Why me? Moaning, she squinted at the clock on the wall and tried desperately to make out the position of the fuzzy hands. It appeared, as far as she could tell, that she had just over an hour to finish getting ready. And, of course now that she was nearly legally blind, the process would probably take a lot longer. It was a good thing Sue Ellen would be doing her hair for the evening.
Thankfully, this wasn’t a real date. Just a practice session with Travis. Still and all, she wanted to make it as authentic as possible, and that included dressing up for the occasion.
The doorbell chimed. Must be Sue Ellen, Wendy thought, tightening the sash to her bathrobe. She clutched the door frame until she could find her balance on the new, shiny gold, open-toed, high-heeled sandals that graced her feet.
Groping along the hallway, she followed the insistent sound as Sue Ellen leaned impatiently on the bell.
“I’m coming,” she called, and could only pray that it were true and that she was indeed heading in the right direction. Finding the doorknob to the big, dark fuzzy blob that was her front door, she pulled it open to be greeted by the vague image of very large blond hair and a well-padded hourglass figure.
“Sue Ellen?”
“Yes, honey, it’s me,” Sue Ellen grunted, dragging several suitcases of beauty paraphernalia behind her into Wendy’s house. Unceremoniously dumping the luggage in her living room, the flamboyant woman exhaled loudly with relief. Turning, she watched as Wendy felt her way along the wall. “Honey, what’s the matter with you?”
“I dropped my contacts down the drain,” Wendy moaned, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t see a darn thing without them.”
“Where are your old glasses? I’ll get ‘em for you,” Sue Ellen volunteered helpfully.
Wendy found her couch and slumped into a pitiful heap. “Like an idiot, I gave them to charity.”
“And you don’t have another pair?” Sue Ellen asked, concerned.
“No.” Wendy pulled her head out of her hands and sighed. “Not yet.”
“Are you nearsighted or farsighted?”
“Nearsighted.” Wendy frowned. “Why?”
“Me, too,” Sue Ellen muttered as she grabbed her large purse and dove headfirst—big hair and all—into its depths. “And…you know, I think I have an old pair of prescription sunglasses in here somewhere.”
Her voice was muffled as she tossed various and sundry obstructions to her search onto the floor. A hair-dryer, cell phone, tennis shoe, tennis ball, a bag of candy kisses and a bowling trophy all hit the floor.
“The glasses are really old and kind of scratched up, but at least they could help you see a little better, couldn’t they? We can’t have you stumbling around blind all evening,” Sue Ellen mumbled as she continued her rummaging.
“No?” Wendy warbled. She had half a mind to call Travis and call off the whole ordeal. She’d waited this long to try the dating scene again. Putting it off a few more days shouldn’t matter, should it? Visions of her thirtieth birthday loomed blurrily on the horizon. No. She had to go through with it. She was running out of time.
“Eureka!” Sue Ellen finally shouted, holding up her discovery. “Here you go.” She opened the plastic-and-wire, cat’s-eye-style glasses and perched them on the tip of Wendy’s nose.
Wendy blinked as the world slowly came into a fuzzy dark green focus. It was true. She could see a little better. Little being the operative word.
“Thanks, Sue Ellen. At least now I can find my way down the hall without killing myself.” Smiling, she stood and abruptly stumbled over Sue Ellen’s bowling trophy.
Luckily, Sue Ellen had lightning-fast reflexes and managed to catch her before she crumpled to the floor. “You okay, hon?”
“Yes, thanks.” Wendy giggled as she righted herself and squinted into the dim green of her hallway.
Gracious, she was a nervous wreck. Why on earth should she be so uptight about a simple evening out on the town with Travis? she wondered, wiping her damp palms on her old chenille robe. If there was anyone she was not worried about impressing, it was him.
Perhaps it was just the idea of finally going out on a date after all these years. She would be a bit of a fish out of water, trying to make witty small talk and flirt and bat her eyes like BambiAnn, and…golly, the myriad things she would have to practice tonight if she was going accomplish her mission. How would she remember it all?
In her mind, it was almost as if this test date with Travis would be indicative of her future success. But that was ridiculous, she chided herself. How could a date with the playboy next door be any indication of how a real evening would go once she found a suitable suitor?
Relax! she commanded herself. This evening was just a trial run. A little icebreaker. Something to help her get her feet wet.
Wendy waited for Sue Ellen to gather her curious cosmetic bags, then slowly led the way back to her bathroom.
Once they arrived in her spacious, modern bath, Sue Ellen began to unpack. “You know, I forgot I even had those sunglasses,” she said, peering at Wendy’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. “They’re a little bit out of style, but, hey
, in a pinch they’ll do the trick, huh?”
Wendy nodded. Personally, she thought they were even uglier than her old glasses, but Sue Ellen had a point. “Sure,” she agreed, tearing her eyes away from her reflection and rotating her shoulders to help ease the nervous tension. Calm down, calm down, she chanted silently. This is just a simple evening with good old Travis. This is not the real thing. No need to let something like. not being able to see, worry her. Besides, it wasn’t as if she cared what Travis thought of her inability to see, or her lack of experience with men. Luckily, he accepted her just the way she was. If she came off a little half-baked tonight, no matter. Her pal Travis probably wouldn’t even notice.
So, why the frayed nerves? Must be that she wanted to show Travis that she wasn’t a total dud in the dating department. After all, she had her pride, too. Wendy filled her lungs with cleansing oxygen and, ever so slowly, her roiling insides began to quiet.
“Go ahead and sit down,” Sue Ellen instructed, gesturing to the small vanity stool. She glanced at her watch. “We don’t have much time, so we’d better step on it.”
“It’s okay, Sue Ellen,” Wendy said, finally accepting the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to see much of anything until tomorrow morning. “It’s just Travis. He won’t care if I’m a little late.”
“Well, we don’t want to keep him waiting too long. Just long enough to be fashionable,” Sue Ellen said, imparting yet another of her pearls of dating wisdom. After plugging in the hot rollers, the older woman began unpacking a small cooler filled with fresh-cut flowers. “Thought I’d try something special for your first date,” she said, sticking large stalks of gladiolus and daisies into the sink and turning on the water. Snapping several small pieces of baby’s breath off a larger bunch, Sue Ellen chattered a mile a minute while Wendy looked on—the best she could—in fascination.
Wow. She’d never have thought of putting fresh flowers in her hair. Is that what men liked? What funny creatures they were, she thought, giving her head a slight shake as Sue Ellen loaded her honey-streaked, sun-blond-goddess tresses with the now scalding-hot rollers. Wendy’s head began to feel like boiled lobster. A curly, boiled lobster.