Maisie smiled. “Dad’s been worried about Herman. Said he’s been wandering aimlessly all over town.”
Norma controlled a ripple of surprise, a lightning bolt zipping through her. She made a noncommittal noise in her throat. Maisie scanned the bag of salad and called out her total while shuffling the items into the reusable shopping bags Norma kept in the truck.
“That handsome man you’ve got staying there filled out an employment application last week. I’d hire him in a heartbeat if I needed someone.” She leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “The older ladies like good-looking young guys carrying their groceries.”
Norma smiled. Adonis was handsome, especially the parts of him the resembled his father. “I’m happy for anyone to carry them…other than me.”
Maisie laughed and handed Norma the lightly packed bags. She hustled them to the truck, hefting them onto the bench seat. In a few moments, she was turning onto Armstrong Road, leaving town and traffic behind.
She made it up the steps before the front door swung open and Adonis reached for her bags. “Let me.” He took them without an acquiescence from her.
“Auditioning for a role at Sweet Grove Market?” Norma followed him into the kitchen, inhaling the scent of spicy food. After hanging the keys on the rack by the door, she gazed around the dining area. Three plates were set on the table, but Herman was nowhere in sight.
“Told you I applied, did they?”
“You’ve been beating the streets, so it didn’t surprise me.” She unloaded the bags into the refrigerator and cupboards while Adonis returned to the stove, lifting the lid on one pot and peeking into the oven.
“It’s early for dinner, isn’t it?”
“Church night.”
Norma blinked. She attended midweek services alone and without complaint since Herman attended with her on Sunday mornings. Until recently, his attitude about it had deteriorated. Church was for kids and old ladies, he said.
“Herman roped you into cooking, huh?” There was still no sign of her husband, which was unusual. Since he’d been released from the hospital, he’d made a point of greeting her when she arrived home from work.
“I volunteered. Wanted to cook some of my family’s traditional dishes.”
The off-hand reference to his mother hardly caused a stir in Norma’s heart.
“And I hoped we could talk.”
Norma stiffened. His tone remained genial, but she couldn’t imagine what they’d need to discuss.
“Oh?” She folded the bags and set them beneath her purse on the counter to return them to the truck when she left for church.
He turned from the stove, gesturing to the refrigerator. “Want some tea?”
“I’ll get it. Do you want me to pour you a glass?”
He gestured toward the table. “I’ve got one. Meet you in the living room?”
She retrieved a glass from the cabinet. By the time she’d filled it with ice and poured the tea, the boy was already gone.
Dear Lord, I don’t know what this is about. Give me wisdom.
Maybe she should have asked for kindness and understanding, too? She sipped the tea, squared her shoulders, and marched into the other room like a soldier into battle.
Adonis crouched on the edge of the love seat across from Herman’s recliner. Norma breathed in the scent of her apple blossom potpourri, soaking in the ambiance of the room. It was one of her favorite rooms in the house, with its rosy walls and floral throw pillows. The navy recliner was the darkest piece of furniture, except for the walnut curio cabinet from her grandmother.
She shuffled a crocheted coaster onto the end table and sat across from the boy. After sliding a coaster in his direction—he still held his glass—she sank into the cushion. Her feet throbbed inside her flats. It had been one of those ninety-miles-per-minute days, and it wasn’t over yet.
“You and Dad are getting along better, huh?”
The question made her blink. Not at all what she expected.
“Whatever I can do to ease his stress.” It sounded cool and almost heartless, but her realization came too late to recall the words.
Adonis chewed the edge of his thumb, noticed he was doing it, and clasped his knee with the fingers instead. “He’s been sending you little gifts for nearly a week. What else can he do?”
Norma arched a brow. “The staff devoured the chocolates today.”
“You didn’t like them?”
“My hips don’t need them.”
He studied her and shook his head. “Your hips seem fine.”
She clenched her teeth to keep from laughing. “But they were your idea?”
“He asked for ideas. Not that I’m an expert.” He grimaced. “I’ve had exactly one girlfriend.”
Norma realized she didn’t know much about his personal life, and the thought made her pause. “You’re young and handsome. There’s plenty of time to meet a girl who’ll appreciate you.”
“I’m not in the market.” He shifted on the seat. “What about a date?”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “If you’re not in the market—”
“If Dad asked you, what would you like to do?”
A date? She’d been married forever and couldn’t imagine the stressfulness of preparing for a date. Married people shared their entire lives. Why would they need to date?
Adonis watched her face. “You don’t want to spend time alone with him?”
He’d totally misread her expression. “It seems strange to date my husband.”
“This marriage blog I’ve been reading says couples should have regular date nights. It keeps the romance and excitement alive.” He glanced toward the floor. “Reminds them what they love about each other.”
Maybe Herman could use a reminder. Although Norma felt certain she’d changed a decade ago when she’d given up on having kids and went to work for the school. Maybe he didn’t like the woman she was now. She tensed.
The boy watching her took it to mean something negative. “What about dinner out? Or a movie in Rosewood or Harrison?”
“Dinner at Ernie’s would be nice. We haven’t been there in several years.”
He took a breath and stared at her iced tea. “Am I causing problems between you?”
Norma reached for the glass at the same moment he spoke and nearly toppled her drink. She surged to her feet and stepped around the table, stopping short of touching his arm.
He wasn’t to blame for the strain between her and Herman. Boys needed a father, and she could see how much Herman enjoyed having the boy around.
The back door slammed.
“I’m glad you’re here. Don’t ever think otherwise.” She held his gaze for several beats, willing him to see the truth of her words.
He nodded. She snatched up her glass just as Herman appeared at the door.
“Thought you’d head out to the gazebo.” His gruff tone made her stomach leap.
At the sight of the collared shirt and bolo tie he wore, her eyes widened. She’d assumed he was working outside, but judging by the dampness of his hair, he’d been in the shower. What was going on?
“It was one of those days when a cushy seat calls.”
He glanced past her. “Smells good.”
Adonis slithered around them.
Herman and Norma stared at each other. Finally, she gazed into her glass, certain she couldn’t swallow anything past the tightness creeping up her windpipe.
She cleared her throat. “I meant to tell you that I appreciate all you’ve been doing around the house lately.”
Herman shifted from foot to foot. His face was inscrutable.
“I feel like I’m in a modern marriage, where the spouses share the chores. But I want you to know, I’ve always enjoyed taking care of the house. And you.” Was it true again?
He pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Being around here, I realize plenty of ways I took you for granted.” He reached for her hand, his fingers clammy. “And I plan to change that. From
here out.”
Norma blinked. The twisting behind her breastbone had her pressing a palm to her chest, and his gaze followed the motion. She shuffled backward at the heat that flared between them.
Her gaze lingered on his broad shoulders. “Since when do we dress up for dinner?” A warmth in the hollow of her stomach oozed lower.
“Dressed for church.”
Norma blinked. “Church?”
His thick eyebrows twitched toward his hairline. “It is Wednesday, right?”
She swallowed and nodded slowly. If Herman made church a priority, they would have so much more in common.
She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
His thumb massaged a circle on the back of her hand. Electricity raced up her arms.
“What’s important to you should be important to me.” He shrugged. “Plus, if I’m gonna be home all the time, I need to get to know your friends. Maybe make some of my own.”
Lord, is this a sign that our marriage can be good again?
“I’m ready for some home-cooked Mexican. And maybe some chili this weekend?” His hopeful look softened something in her chest.
Before she could respond, he’d headed toward the food.
A strangeness flooded her. Norma sipped her tea, trying to figure it out.
“Let’s eat.” Herman’s gruff voice interrupted the musing.
In a daze, Norma joined her family for dinner.
16
Friday came before Herman could prepare himself. After cleaning out the shop with Adonis’ help, he was finally ready to take a look at Travers’s woodworking tools. But not today. He had a date with his wife.
Herman waited at the bottom of the stairs. His wife was a vision, her violet dress swirling about her calves, its fitted bodice outlining every luscious curve. The sight of her winded him.
He stared.
“You’re ogling me.” Her cheeks flamed and something flashed in her eyes. Not exactly anger, but not the demure responses he’d learned to appreciate over the years.
“I can’t tear my eyes away.” His words felt like sandpaper. He swallowed. “You’re beautiful. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Her eyes narrowed and then widened as she studied his face.
“You look nice, too.”
Nice? Adonis insisted he dress up, and he’d scrounged around for an old suit jacket he’d worn a decade before as a pall bearer at a funeral. He straightened his shoulders.
Herman’s gaze roved down his wife’s shapely legs, admiring the curve of her ankles above the moderate heels of her pumps. Before women started wearing their undergarments as dresses, society deemed that ankles should be covered. His surge of desire endorsed those old-fashioned notions. He was an ankle man.
“Herman.”
His gaze jerked to her face at the hiss of his name. Her eyes darted toward the doorway into the living room where Adonis stood.
“You two have a good time.” His son’s grin stretched across his face.
Herman groped in his pocket and touched Norma’s left hand. Her gaze flew to the spot and electricity zipped through him.
“Would you please wear my ring?”
Norma opened her mouth and then swallowed her words when she saw the sparkling diamond anniversary ring. Instead of answering, she pulled off their old wedding band and allowed him to slide the new one on her finger. She studied it for a moment, not tilting it side to side or admiring the gleaming stones as she had the day everything fell apart in their world.
Herman offered his arm. Norma tucked the ring she’d removed into a small black clutch, which she shuffled into her other hand so she could lean on his arm. Her warm curves pressed against him, and he almost sighed. His fingers itched to circle her waist, pull her against his chest. Maybe she’d welcome a kiss later.
“I feel like I should snap a picture.” Adonis pulled his phone from the front pocket of his basketball shorts. “Stop.”
Herman took the opportunity to put his arm around Norma’s shoulders. He feared touching her waist, worried his hands would take charge of what his hormones demanded. They were married, after all. And it had been months.
Norma lifted her chin and smiled at the phone. The flash made dots dance across Herman’s vision.
“This must be how kids feel on prom night.” Norma smiled and walked out of Herman’s grasp.
Herman’s eyes followed the sway of her hips. He was pretty sure he felt like most teenage boys did on prom night, hoping they’d get lucky.
“Looking good, Dad.” Adonis stared between his phone and his father.
Herman shook his head. “Think good thoughts.”
He hurried to pass Norma on the porch so he could open the passenger door of the Fusion. She thanked him, and he ogled her ankles while she scooted onto the seat.
How had he ever looked at another woman? He shook his head and called himself all sorts of names under his breath. By the time he slid behind the wheel, he was ready to romance his wife. Whatever that meant.
He asked her about work and listened while she recounted the trials of Friday at Sweet Grove High. It shook him that he didn’t know any of the people she worked with, except for that woman principal. And he knew for a fact she had no use for him. Since he didn’t talk about work when he came home on weekends, he’d never considered that Norma might want to discuss her job.
He pulled into Ernie’s lot and parked. Norma didn’t wait for him to open her door. When he offered his arm outside the restaurant, she took it again, and her warmth at his side bolstered his confidence. He swung the door open, holding it for her and following her into the dimly lit reception area. The scent of roasting pork and yeasty bread engulfed him.
A dark-skinned woman greeted them. Norma called her Geraldine, and the two chatted about the woman’s daughter while she led them to a corner table.
Herman searched his mind. What should they talk about next? They used to discuss projects for the house, but without an income, he didn’t have a home improvement budget.
Once they were seated, Norma draped a white napkin over her lap and perused the menu. His stomach tilted, so nothing looked appetizing. After they ordered, Norma set a slice of salted bread on a small plate.
“This place hasn’t changed since you brought me here for my fortieth birthday.” Norma gazed around the room, studying the other diners.
That was five years ago in February. Had it really been so long?
Their drinks arrived, and he swallowed a mouthful of lager, needing a dose of liquid courage. Norma sipped her tea and added another package of sweetener.
There was only one thing he could think of to talk about. “I’ve got a plan.”
Norma relaxed into her chair and fixed wise brown eyes on him.
“If it sounds okay to you.” Was he really asking for her approval?
She cocked her head, and a curl fell across her forehead, tempting Herman to reach out, but she pushed it away before he could. “What’s your plan?”
“Fritz Travers’s son is selling his woodworking tools and materials.”
Norma straightened. “How is Fritz? It’s been months since I saw him at church.”
Herman shook his head, dropping his eyes to the table. He slurped another mouthful of beer, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste.
Her lips turned down. “That’s too bad. Those kids have lost so much already.”
When the foster kids had moved in with Fritz and his wife, Norma had asked about getting qualified to take in kids. “Just until we have our own.” Herman had his own worries since Osaria had only recently discovered her pregnancy at that point, so he had talked his wife out of that avenue of parenthood, using the excuse that he traveled too often.
The Travers adored Bailey and his sister, as if they had been their own blood.
His stomach quailed. He’d made so many mistakes.
He banished the self-pity. “You know how Pops made furniture when I was a kid. I thought maybe I’
d turn the shop into a woodcrafting studio.”
Norma stared at him, face open.
“The boy likes building things. It would be something we could do together.”
She nodded slowly. “Both of you need work…” She trailed off and stirred the ice in her glass.
What was she thinking? Had he always felt like he didn’t know what was going on in her head? He didn’t think he’d worried about it before.
“I don’t owe much on the house in Austin. Once I sell that, we should have a cushion until I get some items made. The fairs start this summer.”
I? Had he always been so self-absorbed when he spoke?
Norma didn’t seem to notice. She was leaning forward. “There are so many craft booths at fairs. Are you sure you’ll be able to do it?”
A knot clenched his stomach. She didn’t believe he could succeed. And why should she? He’d only crafted a few things for her over the years, and they weren’t all that spectacular. But with the right tools...
He raised his chin. “Of course I can. I know how to work hard. Once I get back in the rhythm of woodcrafting, the quality and quantity will improve.”
She blinked at him, nodding slowly. “I have money tucked away.”
He waved his hand. Compared to his salary, the school paid a pittance. “That’s your money.”
She pressed her lips together and glared at him. “And if I want to invest in your business?”
His jaw sagged. He snapped his teeth together. Did that mean she thought he could succeed?
The waiter arrived, depositing steaming platters of food in front of them with a flourish. Once he left, Norma bowed her head, lips moving in a silent prayer.
She’d already picked up her fork before Herman realized he should have joined in her prayer. But he was still shocked by her desire to invest in his business.
He sawed into his sausage and worked clockwise around the plate. The food was bland, like he’d remembered, but hearty. He still had several bites left when he set down his utensils. As the waiter checked with them, he asked for a glass of tea.
Norma cut her food into bite-sized bits and stacked the potatoes and chicken on her fork. They were so different, and all the time he’d spent living away from her made them practically strangers.
Love's Little Secrets (Sweet Grove Romance Book 2; First Street Church #10) Page 9