* * *
Troy loved the Fourth of July. His family always got into holiday gatherings, but the Fourth was especially fun because Claremont had so much to offer for the big day. They’d started out the morning at the fishing hole with the annual family fishing competition. The youngest member of the group, Troy’s three-year-old niece, Lily, won...with a little help from Troy, handing her his fishing rod whenever he caught a fish, while the remainder of the family pretended not to notice and Lily did her best to keep the secret. It was almost as much fun watching the little girl try to contain her giggles as it was to see everyone cheer for her accomplishment each time she “caught” another fish.
Next they’d eaten enough of his grandmother’s crispy fried chicken fingers, creamy potato salad, buttery corn on the cob and every other traditional fixing she’d prepared, then followed that with a family Bible study by the lake. After a little more fishing, a refreshing swim and then quite a few family members taking naps on quilts by the water while Troy and his brothers played a fairly intense round of ultimate Frisbee, the entire group cleaned up and gathered again at the town square for Claremont’s night of “Fun on the Fourth.”
Troy’s four younger brothers, ranging in age from fourteen to twenty-one, were already involved in an impromptu game of tag football with some other guys their age while the town waited for the parade to start. At twenty-seven, Troy was older than the group, so he didn’t join in. He still liked sports, but the guys his age didn’t typically hog the large grassy area near the center of the square the way they did when they were teens. Most, in fact, were here with their wives, and some already had kids. However, the “older” gang still got together regularly for their men’s baseball league, which Troy enjoyed immensely. But even then, he was usually the odd man out, since the remainder of them had their wives or steady girlfriends in the stands cheering them on.
There was a baseball game scheduled for Sunday afternoon. Maybe, if tomorrow night’s date went well, he’d see if Haley wanted to come. He’d texted her earlier and asked if she’d be attending the parade tonight, and she’d responded that she was catching up on some paperwork but that she’d try. He let her know that his family would watch the parade in front of the Sweet Stop candy shop, same place they camped out every year for the event. Scanning the area beneath the red-and-white-striped awning that identified the store, he didn’t see any sign of the pretty blonde. He’d keep an eye out for her, though, because it wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time with her tonight. A “pre-date” date, so to speak. And it’d give his family a chance to get to know the girl he planned on trying to go out with more than once. Their opinion of his future bride was important, as he’d written in several of his letters over the years. Funny how he suddenly felt as though they’d meet her soon, or maybe had already met her.
Is that feeling coming from You, Lord? Have I finally met her? Would he spend this Fourth of July at the town square watching the parade with his future bride?
“I don’t care how many times we come here for the Fourth, it always takes my breath away.” Troy’s sister, Becca, Lily’s mom, smiled brightly as she took in the scene. “I wish Joey could’ve come with us.” Her husband, a Claremont policeman, was on duty tonight and would miss the fun at the square; however, he’d been with the family for fishing and picnicking earlier, so he’d at least participated in some of the family’s holiday fun.
Troy and the remainder of the family tried to keep Becca busy whenever Joey pulled night duty. Even though there was little to no crime in Claremont, his sis still got nervous when her husband patrolled at night.
“I’m sure the decorations will still be up tomorrow for the First Friday celebration. Maybe the two of you can bring Lily here for that and he can enjoy the scene then.”
“I’d forgotten about tomorrow being First Friday.” She nodded. “That’s a great idea.”
On the first Friday of each month, Claremont held a festival where the local artists and vendors displayed their wares and performed for the town. Everyone came to the event and, while it wasn’t the Fourth of July, it would still be a fun activity for Becca to enjoy with her husband. The smile on her face said she agreed.
“And I bet you’re right,” she said. “They’ll keep all the decorations up for tomorrow. Probably the only thing missing will be the fireworks.”
“Probably so.” Troy took in the scene as well, tiny white lights capping the eaves of every storefront, patriotic ribbons and flags hanging from each window and lamppost, even red, white and blue spotlights showcasing the three-tiered fountain in the center of the square.
The place was always appealing, but especially so on holidays, when all the shop owners brought their merchandise out to the sidewalks and visited with the customers and one another as the entire town joined in the fun. Troy’s parents were helping his grandfather welcome customers at Bowers’ Sporting Goods, but his grandmother had opted to stay with the remainder of the family, mainly because she loved watching all of the kids enjoy the parade, and she also liked to catch a little candy for herself.
Several local bands, including Troy’s favorite Christian group, More Than This, took turns playing on the event’s main stage. An abundance of artists had easels set up and were painting outside Gina Brown’s Art Gallery, and Troy spotted Gina alongside her protégés. He waved at the sweet lady who, like Troy, attended services at the church every time the doors were open and, with paintbrush in hand, she waved back.
Troy loved Claremont, loved the relationships with the community, the church and his family. He’d always appreciated the small town and planned to raise his own family here one day, assuming he ever found that one person to share his life and love with.
He thought of the letter he wrote this afternoon, tucked away in the wooden box with the remainder of his most recent letters. He’d written so many now that he’d had to store them by year in plastic bins, currently lining one wall of his garage. His family, the only people he’d told of his letter writing, often teased him about the ritual he’d started fifteen years ago, but Troy knew they didn’t mean any harm, even his feisty grandmother, whom he’d found going through his letters a couple of months ago.
“Do you think you’ve set your sights too high?” she’d asked.
The question had haunted him ever since. Had he? Or had God just not brought the right one into his world yet?
A tug at his shirt took his attention from thoughts of his future wife to the pigtailed, black-haired princess who’d been at his side all day, ever since he helped her win that fishing war. “Uncle Troy, can you carry me high? Please?”
Becca shook her head. “Lily, give Uncle Troy a break. He’s probably tired.”
“Me? Tired?” Troy grinned at his precious niece. “Never.” He scooped her up and placed her “high” as she’d requested, which meant, in three-year-old speak, atop his shoulders. She clapped and hugged his head when she got her wish, and Troy laughed in spite of the fact that her exuberant hug yanked his hair. His six-two put her way above the remainder of the crowd, but she seemed to enjoy it and apparently had no fear of heights. “She’s going to be a daredevil, I’m thinking.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” But Becca’s wink and grin said that was fine, as long as Lily was happy. And from the squeals echoing above Troy’s head, she was definitely happy.
“You should’ve invited Haley to the parade.” His grandmother edged her way between Troy and Becca as they joined the rest of the crowd walking around the square. “She may not have known Claremont had a parade tonight, and it’d have been the gentlemanly thing to do for you to invite her.” She tsked. “I should’ve thought of that earlier, so I could’ve told you to do it.”
Becca laughed. “Grandma, how would we ever know what to do if you didn’t tell us?”
“I know!” Jolaine Bowers nodded, completely missing the sarcasm in
her granddaughter’s tone.
Troy grinned. “You’ll be proud of me, Grandma. I texted her and invited her to the parade.”
“You did?” She scanned the crowd. “So, where is she? Did you tell her where we watch the parade? Maybe she’s lost in the crowd. Want me to go look for her? I don’t mind, you know.”
“No,” he chuckled, “I told her where we watch the parade, so she’ll meet us at the Sweet Stop if she comes. She didn’t say she’d come for sure, just that she’d try.”
“She’d try? What else would she have to do tonight?”
“Paperwork at the animal hospital.”
“It’s a holiday. Didn’t you tell her?”
“See now, there’s where I went wrong. I invited her to the Fourth of July parade, but completely forgot to mention that today is a holiday.”
Becca snorted, and their grandmother pointed a finger toward both of them. “All right, you two. Don’t get smart.” Then she tilted her head toward the Sweet Stop and squinted at the folks already lining up in front of the place to view the parade. “Boy, I’m glad we already put our blankets out. It’s really getting crowded. But I don’t see Haley over there yet. Hey, wait a minute. Isn’t that the writer coming out of the candy store?”
Troy followed his grandmother’s gaze and immediately spotted Destiny Porter, her chocolate hair shining beneath the lights covering the Sweet Stop’s awning. It flowed freely tonight, not contained by a ponytail the way it’d been the past two times he saw her, and her attire was different, too, a casual T-shirt, shorts and sandals. She looked very...pretty. He swallowed. “Yes, that’s her.”
“Oh, I’m glad she’s here,” Becca said. “Mama told me about meeting her at church last night. I guess I missed seeing her when I went to pick Lily up from class.”
“Well, you should meet her,” Troy’s grandmother said, already heading toward the candy shop. “We want her to get to know the family well so she’ll consider putting us in her book. I should show her where A Likely Story is, too, so she can talk to David Presley about having a book signing sometime.” She gasped. “Oh, my, look at the size of that ice-cream cone she’s carrying.”
“I want ice cream!” Lily yelled.
“I’ll get you some.” Troy noticed the tower of ice-cream scoops balancing atop Destiny’s sugar cone at the same time he heard the high school band start up and knew the parade was about to begin. A little boy, obviously excited, shoved past Destiny when he heard the band and sent the top scoop plunking to the ground. Frowning, she leaned down to pick up the round blob, and another scoop joined the first on the sidewalk. Her lip trembled.
“Hey, the parade is starting!” his grandmother said. “Let’s get to our spot. Becca, yell at the boys to stop playing football and come on over before the band blocks their path. Troy, ask the writer if she wants to come sit with us.” She was so busy barking orders that she didn’t notice Destiny’s dilemma, but Troy did, and so did his sister.
“Oh, Troy, will you go help her?” Becca’s voice was tender.
“Sure.” He’d already started that way.
“I want ice cream,” Lily repeated. “Please?”
“Here, I’ll take her,” Becca said, but Troy shook his head.
“Nah, it may help to have her along.” His niece had a way of making everyone smile, and he didn’t think it’d hurt to bring her, since Destiny was obviously having a hard time.
“Ah, gotcha, good idea.” Becca must’ve followed his reasoning and nodded her approval.
Troy gently lifted Lily off his shoulders and put her by his side. “Lily, we’re going to go help that lady who dropped her ice cream, okay?”
“Okay. And then we’ll get me some, too, right?”
“Right.”
Becca pulled her cell phone from her pocket and read the display. “Oh, Joey has been assigned to start the parade, so he’ll be in the police car in front of the band.”
“Daddy’s in the parade?”
“He sure is. So, Troy, bring Lily on over after you get her ice cream, and we can wave at Joey together. I’ll go tell our brothers to stop the football game before they take out one of the band members.” She jogged over to the grassy area where the guys were still playing while Troy headed toward the woman having a difficult time picking up cold ice cream from the warm pavement...and piercing his heart with her tears.
Chapter Four
Destiny didn’t know what she’d been thinking to get the triple scoop of rocky road then try to maneuver through this crowd. She’d planned to sit in the candy shop to eat the treat, but every table had been filled. And then, coming outside, she realized the sidewalk was even more congested than before she’d entered the store. Now she had two blobs of ice cream melting rapidly, and she sure didn’t want any of these sandal-clad kids stepping in her mess. No reason for someone else’s day to be ruined because she’d tried to drown her sorrows in ice cream.
But the stuff was melting fast, and the people were crowding her, and she couldn’t figure out how to pick it up and get it to a trash can before it slid through her fingers. Each time she bent over, someone bumped her, and then more ice cream fell out of the cone.
“Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” Her mother’s words, spoken numerous times throughout Destiny’s life, echoed through her head, and tears slipped free. She’d thought the ice cream would help her feel better, but she had made everything more difficult, getting the monster-size cone instead of something normal, and now she was paying the price. Her mother, if she were here, would happily say she told her so.
Destiny thought of how she’d made the success of her magazine more difficult, too, when she promised the advertisers—and her subscribers—that she’d publish the “True Southern Gentleman’s Love Letters.” What if she couldn’t befriend Troy Lee soon enough? What if she couldn’t find enough ways to run into the guy and convince him to give her the rights to run those amazing stories of his heart?
His letters were private, hence the reason Destiny felt so guilty every time she read them. But she kept reading them, absorbing them, dreaming about them. Or rather, dreaming about a guy like Troy. What would he do if he knew she’d read his secret desires for his bride? And what would he do when she told him she wanted the rest of the world to read them, too?
“Here, let me help.”
Destiny recognized the calm, deep voice, which stood out over the cheering crowd. Sure enough, she looked up to see the very guy she’d been dreaming about scooping up the remainder of her cold mess with a couple of napkins, then tossing it in a nearby can. “Might as well throw the whole thing away, don’t you think?” He reached for the cream-covered cone and Destiny let him take it, his large fingers easing her smaller ones away as he took what was left and also pitched it in the can.
“Uncle Troy said we can get you another one, since you dropped yours.” A little blue-eyed girl had her face so close to Destiny’s that their noses nearly touched. “We got the napkins from the hot-dog cart so we could help you. Are you sad you dropped your ice cream? ’Cause we can get you some more. And I’m gonna get some, too, right, Uncle Troy?”
“That’s right.” He tilted his head toward the little girl holding tight to his other hand. “This is Lily, by the way, my niece.”
“I’m sorry you’re so sad,” Lily said. “I get sad sometimes, and ice cream makes me feel better.”
“That was what I was going for,” Destiny admitted, a smile tugging at her lips thanks to the adorable little girl.
“But we gotta hurry, ’cause Daddy is in the parade, and I don’t want to miss him, but I need my ice cream, too.” She yanked at Troy’s hand. “Come on, Uncle Troy. The band is getting louder.”
“She’s right. We’d better get y’all some ice cream quick.” He led the way back into the ice-cream shop, which had clea
red out tremendously with the sounds of the parade starting. “Hey, Jasmine, Lily needs a single scoop of chocolate in a cake cone. And Destiny needs a...” He looked to Destiny, but the pretty blonde teen behind the counter interrupted.
“Did you eat all of that rocky road already?”
Destiny grabbed a couple of wet wipes from a dispenser near the display case and cleaned the goo off her fingers. “Nah, the sidewalk wanted it more than I did.”
“She dropped it,” Lily explained. “But Uncle Troy’s getting her another one. Do you want a real big one again?”
“No.” Destiny shook her head. “Definitely not. Just a single scoop of rocky road this time, in a sugar cone, please.”
“Okay.” The teen began serving up the order. “How about you, Troy? You want one, too?”
“Yeah, the usual.”
She nodded. “Single scoop vanilla in a sugar cone, coming up.”
Destiny couldn’t hold back her look of surprise, and he grinned. “Guess I’m not as ambitious as you when it comes to ice cream.”
“Actually, I was thinking you’re the smart one. Vanilla wouldn’t make as much of a mess, and the triple scoop isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Unless you’re counting cracks on the sidewalk,” he said, and Destiny laughed.
Jasmine put the three cones in a white plastic holder on the counter, took Troy’s money and shook her head. “Pitiful joke, Troy.”
“Thanks.” He picked up his ice cream and then handed Lily hers.
Destiny got her cone. “I didn’t mean for you to pay for mine.”
“Didn’t ask if you meant for me to or not. I did what I wanted to do.”
One dark brow lifted, along with one corner of his mouth. The look reminded Destiny of a little boy who knew he was cute and expected an adult to acknowledge the fact. Seeing it on a boy made Destiny grin; seeing it on Troy made her fight a swoon.
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