Find My Way Home (Harmony Homecomings)

by Michele Summers

Maddie’s eyes grew wide as tennis balls and the light bounced off her round face and scattered freckles. “Just you and me?” The excitement in her voice made Keith’s chest expand with warmth.

  “Sure. Just you and me, cutie. But we might have to include your dad in a few decisions,” Bertie said, winking at Maddie. “Would that be okay with you?”

  Maddie bounced her legs back and forth, causing her small frame to shake the entire table. “That’d be great. Right, Dad?”

  “Right, Maddie-Poo,” Keith agreed, loving Maddie’s enthusiasm.

  “Dad, please. I’m not a baby anymore. You can stop calling me Maddie-Poo,” Maddie said as if she were thirty and not ten.

  “Sorry, no can do. I get to call you my Maddie-Poo no matter how old you are. Daddy privilege.” Maddie rewarded him with an eye roll followed by a small giggle.

  Bertie braced both hands on the table. “Nice to meet you, Maddie. I guess I better slink away and remove my skates, so I can shove them down Cal’s throat,” she mumbled.

  “Not so fast, little speed demon. You’re not exactly steady on those things,” Keith said, placing his hand on Bertie’s thigh.

  “You’re leaving?” Maddie asked, sounding disappointed.

  Keith’s sentiments exactly, and he didn’t know why. Something about holding Bertie in his lap felt…right. He didn’t want to let her go. The scent of gardenias teased his nose and took him back to their last hot kiss when she’d looped her hands around his neck and pressed her lush body into his. Keith choked back a groan and forced his mind to think of something neutral. He struggled to picture Gail but had no luck. The best he could come up with was the new mutual fund he planned to invest in.

  “Daddy, hold on to her so she doesn’t fall again,” Maddie instructed in a concerned voice.

  Keith gave his head a shake. “I won’t let her fall.” Bertie tried standing, but both skates slipped out from under her. Keith grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her down on her butt. Her feet shot straight out. “See, I didn’t let her fall,” he said to Maddie’s alarmed face. “Maybe you should sit this one out,” he said low in Bertie’s ear.

  “Hey, Bertie! Is this the lucky fella you almost knocked out?”

  “Did you drop another plate of spaghetti?”

  “Whatcha gonna sing tonight?”

  Patrons gave a shout-out to Bertie from various parts of the bar.

  Bertie quickly waved and answered back, “Don’t know yet. Need to find me a singing partner.” She straightened in her seat as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Then she grinned at Maddie. “I can’t wait to get started on your room. But right now, I need to get up.”

  Keith’s hand gripped her elbow as she scooted to the edge of the seat.

  “Not so fast.” Keith and Bertie glanced up at Cal, weaving toward their table. “Hey, Prince. Sorry about Barreling Bertie, here. Do me a favor and hold on to her until the karaoke starts up. And by the way, your meal is comped for the evening.”

  Keith shook his head, thinking his meal was being comped because of his celebrity status. “That’s not necessary.”

  Cal laughed. “It’s tradition. Whoever Bertie crashes into on derby night gets their meal on the house.” Cal yanked on Bertie’s floppy ponytail. “Don’t let her back on the floor with those skates.”

  Bertie swatted at Cal. “If you wouldn’t make me work on derby night, you wouldn’t have to comp so many meals.”

  “I can’t afford another floor show,” Cal teased. “Have dinner with your friends and relax a little until it’s time to sing, okay?”

  “Yeah, and people in Hades want ice water,” she yelled at Cal’s retreating back.

  “Is he your boss?” Maddie asked, still bouncing in her seat.

  “Only in his dreams,” Bertie snorted. “Enough about bossy older brothers.” She signaled Sara Jean over and then returned her attention to Maddie. “I want to hear all about your school and what activities you like to do.”

  Bertie spent the next fifteen minutes talking to Maddie about school, sports, music, Maddie’s BFF Tess, and some teeny-bopper boy band all the girls worshipped. Sara Jean brought Bertie her usual salad along with their meals, and Keith ate in silence, observing his daughter talk with her hands and use words he’d never heard come out of her mouth, like equivalent, optimistic, and collaborated. All good, except his daughter was growing up before his very eyes, and Keith had missed huge gaps of development by not being there. A plan to change all that formed in his mind as he listened to his baby girl sound more and more like a young adult.

  “Do you like to sing and dance?” Bertie asked.

  “Yeah, sure. When I know the words and I’ve practiced,” Maddie said, shoving a strand of thick brown hair behind her ear.

  Bertie checked the chunky watch on her wrist. “We have about thirty minutes. How about you and I go in the back and practice a song together?”

  Maddie gaped, slack-jawed. “Huh?”

  “Yeah, come on. It’ll be fun. We’ll do a Taylor Swift song. They’re easy and fun. We’ve got costumes and everything.”

  “Dad?” Maddie looked to him for approval or rescuing—he didn’t know which one.

  “What do you say, Dad?” Bertie mimicked, shooting him a saucy smile.

  Keith reached for his tea as a cold rock formed in his stomach. He had to remember that this was not Adriana gyrating on a bar in some revealing outfit. They were in Harmony for chrissakes, dancing to Taylor Swift, not some lewd rap song. He leveled a hard glare at Bertie. “Don’t dress her up like a hoochie mama. Nothing inappropriate.”

  “Dad!” Maddie wailed.

  He pointed his finger at Maddie. “I mean it. Now, go. Maybe I’ll get some peace and quiet around here. All this jabbering is giving me a headache.”

  Maddie scooted to the end of her seat. “Right. Just because we aren’t talking tennis, football, or Wall Street, you think it’s silly.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I am a girl, you know.”

  The knife sliced straight through Keith’s heart. He gulped back his groan of pain. His baby was growing up into a pretty, intelligent young lady with acute observational skills. And Keith didn’t know if he was equipped to handle it. He gave his head a shake at Bertie’s hot-pink T-shirt molding her curves. This was bossy Bertie who walked dogs, fed old people, and couldn’t skate, not Adriana, wearing spandex with no panties underneath. Then he pictured Gail in khakis, loafers, and headbands, and the panic that threatened to close his throat receded. No comparison. Gail would bring peace and stability to their lives. The perfect solution. Now if he could only convince his randy cock.

  “And girls rule!” Bertie’s exclamation jerked him back to the present. She motioned for Maddie. “Come hold my hand, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

  Maddie giggled as she helped pull Bertie up, holding tight so Bertie wouldn’t fall again.

  “Make sure you have a good view of the stage. You don’t want to miss this,” Bertie called over her shoulder to Keith.

  Keith appreciated the view of Bertie’s cute ass covered in black tulle. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as Bertie reached a hand around her back to yank the hem of her skirt down. Unlike Adriana, who’d flaunted her wares for any guy with eyeballs, Keith sensed that Bertie would be more comfortable wearing a sandwich board.

  “You here for the show?”

  Keith turned his head to see Liza Palmer sliding into Maddie’s vacant seat. He nodded. “Yeah, my daughter is getting ready to perform with Bertie.”

  Liza fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “Cute. I can’t wait to meet her. If she’s with Bertie, it will be good.”

  “Good as in hilarious? Because I’ve already witnessed her skating firsthand. Or good as in she really knows how to perform?”

  Liza gave a sly smile. “Wait and see.”

  “Hey,
Keith. When did you get back in town? I stopped by your house yesterday with a homemade banana pudding.” Jo Ellen Huggins stood next to his table, wearing a pink cowboy hat, the only thing on her body he could actually name and identify. The rest of her outfit was beyond words.

  “Thought we could share it together.” Jo Ellen batted her gooped-up eyelashes at him, looking like a half-blind raccoon.

  “I got in late last night.”

  Aunt Francesca would rip him a new one if she knew he hadn’t stood and offered Jo Ellen a seat like a gentleman, but he’d take his chances. Liza started to cough or laugh, he wasn’t sure which.

  “Hey, Liza. What brings you to town?” Jo Ellen gathered her wide, pink skirt with black poodles all over it and took matters into her own hands by sliding into the booth next to him. Keith stifled a whimper. He motioned for Sara Jean to bring another round of drinks. His pleasant evening was taking a definite turn for the worse.

  “Mini vacation to visit my parents. Like your pink poodle cashmere sweater. Where’d you get it?” Liza smiled into her wineglass.

  “This old thing?” Jo Ellen fiddled with the white pearl button on her sweater, slipping it from the hole. Keith feared any more buttons opening for his benefit.

  “Did we miss anything?” Opal and Emma Ardbuckle raced over, wearing matching bright blue band outfits. Why was everyone in this loony town dressing in costume on a Saturday night? The Ardbuckle twins pushed their way into the booth, squishing Keith against the wall and Jo Ellen Huggins and her pink poodles against him.

  “It’s about to start!” The Arbuckle twins squealed together. Sure enough, the lights dimmed and everyone focused their attention on the stage with the pink and silver hexagon-patterned backdrop.

  First, Cal took the stage and warmed everyone up with a few funny stories. “Okay, I know why you’re all here. Once again, it’s karaoke night at the Dog! Put your hands together for Bertie Anderson and Maddie Morgan singing ‘You Belong with Me’ by Taylor Swift.”

  Spotlights circled the room and then zeroed in on the stage and Keith’s mouth fell open as Bertie and Maddie marched out in perfect rhythm, carrying cordless microphones. Pride filled Keith’s chest as he gaped at Maddie’s goofy flannel plaid pajama pants and oversized T-shirt covered in handwriting. A claw held her thick brown hair on top of her head and she wore huge-framed glasses that gobbled her face. But Bertie. Keith gripped his Mason jar of tea like it was a lifeline. Bertie sparkled in an electric-blue dress with long fringe that swung from her great breasts to the tops of her thighs, down to silver stilettos worthy of a centerfold. Her hair hung in thick waves past her shoulders and when she moved—or maybe shimmied would be a more apt description—the fringe caught the light and danced.

  Fuck. He wanted the exact opposite influence for Maddie. His daughter didn’t need to see sparkles. Or fringe. Or cleavage. And certainly not porn-star stilettos.

  Keith started to grind his teeth when Liza’s hand covered his and squeezed.

  “Watch,” she murmured low.

  Keith forced his gaze back on the stage, trying not to stare at Bertie, but it was damn near impossible. He scanned the crowd and noticed all male eyes were glued on her as well. He gave his back teeth another workout.

  Bertie and Maddie danced with clever choreography and sang really well together. Bertie took a few steps back to give Maddie the spotlight. He grinned like the village fool when Maddie hammed it up and had the crowd laughing. Maddie caught his eye, searching for his reaction, and Keith gave her big thumbs-up. Maddie sang the words verbatim and followed the tune while Bertie switched octaves and added some harmony. When the song ended, Bertie and Maddie gave silly bows, laughing as the crowd cheered, then skipped off stage. Keith ducked his head as heat flushed his face.

  “She’s really talented,” Liza said, leaning forward for Keith’s ears only.

  “If being a ham is talent,” he said.

  Liza laughed. “No, your daughter is very cute and definitely a ham, but I was referring to Bertie.” Liza glanced at the women jammed in the booth to make sure they weren’t paying attention to their conversation. She laughed again. “If you could see your face. I know she seems like a natural disaster sometimes, but Bertie is one of the most talented people I know.”

  “She seems like a competent designer,” he said with some hesitation.

  “She can also sing and dance, not to mention fill out a tight dress like no one else I’ve ever seen.” Liza smirked at him as if she could read his mind like a page in a book.

  Keith gave her his supercilious look with one raised brow. “I wouldn’t know. I only had eyes for Maddie.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Their attention was drawn back to the stage when Cal asked who wanted to go next.

  Jo Ellen Huggins in her pink poodle glory jumped up and down in her seat, squealing, “Oooo! Me! I wanna go next.” She pushed Opal or Emma, he didn’t know which one, out of the booth and hurried toward the stage in a pink blur.

  Liza moaned, “From what I hear, this should be good.”

  “What?” Keith asked. But he found his answer when Jo Ellen started dancing and singing to “Rock Around the Clock” by Bill Haley & His Comets. Holy shit. Poor Bill Haley was probably turning over in his grave. The crowd cheered and clapped along. Really? They should beat a gong or extend the hook, not encourage her.

  The Ardbuckle twins turned to him with bright animated faces. “Don’t go anywhere. We’re performing next to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John and Kiki Dee.”

  Keith hoped his mask didn’t slip and reveal the complete horror he felt as he nodded. God, this was going to be a long night. He signaled for Sara Jean and told her to hold the tea and bring him a beer instead.

  Chapter 11

  Bertie stood by the open office door and adjusted her pink T-shirt. Maddie took off for the booth where Keith still sat. Bertie hesitated to step back into the fray, still reeling from the humiliation of falling into Mr. Perfect’s lap. The falling part she could handle no problem. She fell all the time on derby night. But landing on top of Keith and then finding herself perched on his lap—so mortifying…so unprofessional…so awesome. Why did she always end up the fool in his presence? Okay, so she had a bad habit of stepping in poo every once in a while. But lately, she had managed to step smack dab in the middle of every pile.

  One good thing came from her spectacular tumble—she met Maddie and broke the ice with her. Where Keith was remote and closed off, Maddie was animated and open. Bertie liked her on the spot and hoped that she could make Maddie happy with her design choices. Bertie needed to pick up the pace on this job if she expected to get done in time.

  She’d already given Dwelling Place her check for ten thousand and her pledge for the rest. She’d visited little Jessica Alvarez at their rusted-out, single-wide home and promised her family that DP would build a house for them soon. Jessica’s mom had gasped and then grabbed Bertie, kissing both her cheeks, while Jessica kicked up dirt as she danced around the dusty yard. Bertie had made a promise, and she never broke her promises.

  Time to focus on completing Mr. Heartthrob’s house, not on ways to land in his strong arms. And when she finished, she could move on to Atlanta, as she had planned. The most thrilling thing to happen in Harmony had been Keith Morgan moving to town and going on a wife hunt. Once he married and settled down, all the single women fluttering around with extra makeup, new outfits, and homemade casseroles would go back to their ordinary lives—including Bertie. But she didn’t want ordinary. She wanted exciting and new. She wanted out.

  Bertie sighed, yanking on the hem of her tulle skirt. She’d better get out there and help Cal. She glanced at the Ardbuckle twins butchering Elton John in their matching outfits and tried not to cringe. She moved between some tables and tapped Hank Thompson and his brother Walt on the shoulder.

  “You guys are up next.
Let’s hear ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ before the natives get restless,” she said close to their ears in order to be heard. Then she signaled Julio, her painter, and a few of his crew members to do one of their fast Latin numbers. She worked her way through the crowd until she ended back at Keith’s table, where Maddie was attacking a mountain of whipped cream on a hot fudge sundae, appearing unfazed by the commotion of women swarming the booth. Keith rubbed his forehead as if it ached, and Bertie noticed he had switched from iced tea to beer. Bertie rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the situation. Time to create a diversion.

  “Arlene, you better get close to the stage because Hank is getting ready to sing.” Bertie nudged Arlene Tomlin with her elbow. Arlene and Hank had dated off and on since high school, and Arlene still harbored a wicked crush.

  “I do love it when that man sings.” Arlene gave a dreamy sigh and headed toward the stage.

  “Crystal, that darling Patrick is home for spring break. He’s sitting over there with three of his friends. Why don’t you go chat him up? Maybe you guys can dance together.”

  “Patrick’s home from UNC?” Crystal asked, slicking her red, jelly-glossed lips with her tongue. “Do I look okay?” Crystal adjusted her layered cotton tank tops.

  “Perfect. Tell them to save a dance for me.” Bertie pointed Crystal in the right direction.

  “Jo Ellen, there’s a table of working women who could use your expertise. They were talking about eye creams and facials. You should go introduce yourself and give them some Mary Kay pointers. Might be some new clients for you.”

  Jo Ellen pushed her way out of the booth. “Let me freshen up and I’ll go help them,” she said in a serious tone, as if she were an ER doctor instead of a cosmetic specialist.

  Bertie turned her attention back to the booth and found Keith staring at her as if she glowed radioactive green. “What?” She shrugged her shoulder. “Thought you could use a little breathing room. If you want, I can call them all back.”

  A huge smile broke out on his face and stole Bertie’s breath. Her heart flutter-kicked inside her chest. Keith should smile more often.