Third Time's a Charm

by Virginia Smith

  Allie scowled. “She didn’t even have the nerve to call one of us, not after she promised to be here. And of all the lame excuses.”

  Ryan cocked his head. “You don’t think she really had a meeting?”

  She grimaced. “On Sunday?”

  Joan plucked at his sleeve to move him out of the way so someone could enter the Sunday school room. “I believe her about the meeting. Tori’s boss is a real slave driver. Mom said she sounded upset at having to go into the office this morning.”

  Allie folded her arms. “Still. She could have called me.”

  Ryan hid a smile. Seeing the fierce grimace on Allie’s face, he didn’t blame Tori one bit for wanting to avoid her oldest sister.

  In the next instant the grimace faded, replaced by a calculating smile. She patted Ryan’s arm. “But this doesn’t change anything. She’s still coming to Gram’s for dinner. Just call the house this afternoon to ask her out.”

  Ryan scuffed his heel on the thin carpet, doubt nagging at him. It was one thing to sit beside a girl in Sunday school and casually suggest a cup of coffee later. If she said no, he could always act like it was no big deal. But if he called her on the phone specifically to ask her out and she turned him down, that cranked the humiliation factor upward a ton.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I sort of promised my brother I’d help him work on his house this afternoon. Maybe I should just wait until next week.”

  Allie’s hand gripped his forearm. “No. Today’s the perfect day. We’re going to be working up in the attic, so she’ll be here all afternoon.”

  Joan nodded. “Call the house around four. By then she’ll be ready for a break.”

  “We’ll make sure she’s ready for a break.” Allie grinned. “By the time we finish with her, she’ll be begging you to rescue her.”

  He looked from one intense face to the other. They wore nearly identical expressions that put him in mind of his sister-in-law when she was trying to convince him to go on a blind date with that girl at the restaurant. Joan and Allie were playing matchmaker, trying to fix him up with their sister. Even though he shared their goal where Tori was concerned, the feeling of being manipulated didn’t rest easy with him.

  He narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on here? Why are you two doing this?”

  Both pairs of eyes went round.

  “What do you mean?” Allie asked. “We thought you wanted to ask our sister out.”

  Joan nodded. “We’re just trying to help.”

  Actually, he was feeling the same reaction he’d had to Loralee. The harder they pushed, the more he wanted to dig his heels in. In fact, maybe asking Tori Sanderson out wasn’t such a good idea after all. He edged toward the classroom. “Well, thanks, but I’ve got it covered on my own.”

  Allie stepped in front of him. “So are you going to call her or not?”

  Irritation flickered in the base of his skull. “I’ll think about it.”

  Joan moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Allie, blocking his path. “Ryan, please don’t be upset with us. We’re just trying to look out for our little sister.”

  By manipulating him into asking her on a date? He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  “Like we said yesterday, she’s working too hard,” Allie said. “She needs to go out, relax, have a little fun.”

  “And not only that, but there are some pretty unscrupulous men out there.” Joan’s smile was soft. “We know you’ll treat her well.”

  “And besides,” Allie said, “I think she likes you.”

  Ryan’s back straightened. “She does?”

  Their nods were enthusiastic.

  Just then their Sunday school teacher, Mr. Carmichael, shuffled down the hall toward them, a stack of books in his hands. He stopped long enough to peer first into Ryan’s face, and then Joan’s. “If you’re ready to get started, Mr. Adams, Miss Sanderson.” His gaze slid to Allie. “Are you joining us this morning, Mrs. Harrod?”

  The disapproval he managed to pour into the title let them know exactly what he thought of a married woman attending the singles Sunday school class.

  Allie awarded him a broad smile. “No, sir. I’m just on the way to my class with my husband.” Before she stepped away, she looked at Ryan and mouthed, Call her.

  Ryan ignored her and gestured for Joan to precede him into the classroom. He liked Tori, but being the object of a pair of scheming women’s plans was a bit unnerving. He wasn’t sure he was willing to play along, even if it meant a date with the youngest and, in his opinion, the prettiest Sanderson sister.

  After a delicious fried chicken dinner, the women chased the guys into the living room and Tori joined her sisters for cleanup duty. They each took their places in the familiar kitchen where they’d spent their teenage years, and settled into their routine. The sound of a cheering crowd drifted their way from the television, Eric’s and Ken’s voices an accompanying low murmur as they commented on some boring old ball game.

  Tori ran a fork across a dirty plate, shoving chicken bones and a few stray green beans into the trashcan. “It’s an amazing opportunity, but it’s going to be a lot of work.”

  She set the plate on the counter. Joan picked it up and plunged it in the sink full of soapy water. “Well, you’re used to that. I don’t know anybody who works harder than you do.”

  On the other side of the kitchen Allie snapped the lid on a plastic container full of leftover mashed potatoes. “Maybe once you’re the boss you’ll be able to take a weekend off every now and then. You know.” She raised her eyebrows. “Get a real life.”

  Tori scowled and reached for the last dirty plate. “I doubt it. Kate works every weekend.”

  “Is that because she has so much work to do, or does she choose to work all those hours?” Joan asked as she took the scraped plate.

  Actually, Tori had often wondered the same thing. Kate seemed to have no life outside the office. Unmarried, no steady boyfriend. As far as anyone knew, the only time she went out socially was when she was entertaining a client. All her energy went into her career, and that was one reason the clients loved her. Which, of course, was why she was being made a partner at Connolly and Farrin when she couldn’t be much over thirty years old.

  Tori shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. She’d still be my boss. I’m sure she expects whoever takes her place to give 120 percent in the job, like she has.”

  On the other side of the kitchen counter, Mom sat in a straight-backed chair at the dining room table while Gram ran a damp dishcloth across the gleaming wooden surface. Beside Mom, Joanie was still picking at the food on her highchair tray. Mom selected a green bean from the plastic tray and held it up before the child, but instead of taking it with her chubby, mashed potato-covered hand, she leaned forward and ate it directly from her grandmother’s fingers.

  The overhead light glinted off Mom’s glasses as she turned her head to look into the kitchen. “Are you sure you want this job, honey?”

  “Mom’s right.” Allie stacked the leftover container on top of an identical one containing buttered corn, then picked them both up and opened the refrigerator. “Would it be so terrible to let this other guy get the promotion and report to him?”

  Her, work for Mitch? Tori shuddered expansively. “I’d rather quit the company.”

  Joan half turned to look at her. “Seriously? Would you consider going somewhere else?”

  Tori didn’t answer immediately. She stepped up beside Joan, rinsed her hands under the faucet, and picked up the dishtowel. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I wouldn’t make near as much money anywhere else. Connolly and Farrin is the biggest marketing firm in this part of the state. Besides, I might not even be able to find a job in my field without moving to a big city. I was lucky Kate hired me right out of college.”

  Gram approached and set the dishrag on the counter, then placed an arm around Tori’s waist and hugged. “I wouldn’t want to see you move away.”

  Allie snor
ted. “I don’t know, if she went to work for a company that actually unchained her from her desk every so often, even if it was a couple of hours’ drive from here, we might see her more.”

  Tori dried off the big potato pot and crossed to the cabinet where the pots and pans were stored. There had been a few times she’d considered leaving Connolly and Farrin and had even quietly checked out the want ads in the local newspaper. That confirmed her suspicions of good marketing jobs not being all that easy to come by.

  She bent down to stack the pot in the cabinet, then straightened and turned. “You guys don’t seem to understand what a great opportunity this is. To be an AE for a respected firm like Connolly and Farrin at twenty-four years old?” She shook her head, curls bouncing in her peripheral vision. “Chances like this don’t come along very often. I have to go for it.”

  “Then of course you’ll get the job. I can’t imagine you not accomplishing anything you set your mind to.” Mom’s smile held the confidence that had soothed Tori’s insecurities from the time she was as young as Joanie.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “One thing, though.” Joan turned from the sink, her expression worried. “You won’t be too busy to help with the wedding, will you? And you have to make time for the dress fittings with the church sewing circle.”

  Tension threatened to turn the good food in Tori’s stomach sour. She returned her sister’s anxious stare with a broad smile. “Of course I won’t be too busy. Food, decorations, whatever you need me to do. You don’t think I’d let you down right before your wedding, do you?” Even though I think you’re rushing into this marriage just so you can have sex with a religious nut.

  She flashed a glance in Allie’s direction and saw from her expression that her older sister knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Allie narrowed her eyes, then gave an almost imperceptible nod. She drew herself up and spoke in her bossy big-sister voice. “Tori, I know you’re going to be really busy between this job thing and the wedding, but it’s important that you take care of yourself too.”

  Allie looked toward Joan, who wore a blank expression.

  Then Joan’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. Yes, she’s right. You can’t neglect yourself. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

  “So if you have the opportunity to, you know”—a smile flashed onto Allie’s face—“go out or something, you should take it.”

  Joan nodded vigorously. “Definitely. Take every opportunity that comes along.”

  What in the world were they talking about? She glanced toward Mom for a clue, but Mom looked as confused as she felt.

  “O-kay,” she told them. “Not that I get invitations all that often.” Unless she counted Mitch’s suggestive comments, which would surely stop now that they were in a heated competition for their boss’s job.

  Allie planted her hands on her hips. “You don’t expect us to believe that the biggest flirt in the state of Kentucky isn’t fending off prospective dates with a baseball bat.”

  Tori shook her head. “Seriously, I don’t have many opportunities to meet interesting men.”

  Joan exchanged another glance with Allie. “What about somebody at church? Like, maybe”—her eyes went innocently wide—“Ryan Adams.”

  Allie snapped her fingers. “Now there’s an idea. He’s obviously into you.”

  Ryan’s ruggedly handsome face swam into focus in her mind’s eye. He and Mitch Jackson were as opposite as two good-looking guys could get. Where Mitch was suave and professional and more than a little sarcastic, Ryan was down-to-earth and, well, real. But at least Mitch spoke her language. Ryan wouldn’t know a DMA if it slapped him in the face. “I don’t know. He’s cute and all, but . . .” She lifted a shoulder.

  “You don’t like him?” Joan and Allie asked at the same time.

  Too quickly. Suspicion stirred as she examined first Joan’s suddenly blank expression, then Allie’s. What were those two up to? “Why do you want to know?”

  “No reason, really.” Joan’s smile was guileless. “Just that he was so disappointed this morning when you didn’t come to church.”

  “Hmmm. Well, like I said, he’s cute and all.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I don’t think we have anything in common.”

  “Don’t assume that without getting to know him,” Allie said.

  Tori didn’t filter the skepticism out of the look she turned on her oldest sister.

  Allie spread her hands. “I’m just saying.”

  Those two didn’t fool her for one minute. They wanted to push her toward Ryan because he went to church regularly. They probably figured if she started going out with one of their church buddies, she’d be one step closer to their particular brand of fanaticism. Which wasn’t anywhere on her To Do list. She didn’t have time to deal with church, or guys, or anything except the Maguire campaign and this wedding she couldn’t generate any enthusiasm for.

  She brushed her hands together as though wiping off the effects of this conversation, which was going nowhere fast. “So, are we going through boxes today or what? Because if not, I’ve got plenty to do back in Lexington.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Allie looped an arm through hers and dragged her toward the hallway and the pull-down stairs that led up into the attic. “Mom, would you keep an eye on my baby, while I put your baby to work?”

  Mom grinned at Joanie. “I’ll be happy to.”

  Tori let out an audible groan as she was pulled from the room, but she flashed a quick grin in Mom’s direction. Weird, but she was looking forward to digging in all those boxes with her sisters. That attic was dark and dusty, but at least the three of them would be working together. And this way she knew they weren’t making any important family decisions without her.

  “Ohmygosh, would you look at this.” Tori reached into the box and pulled out a small cocoa brown jumper. “It’s Allie’s old Brownie uniform. And here’s the tie.”

  “Let me see that.” Allie crawled on her knees across the dusty wood floor, hand outstretched. “Gosh, can you believe they dressed us in orange ties? Isn’t that considered child abuse or something?”

  Tori giggled. “If it isn’t, it should be. So, do you want to keep it?”

  “What on earth for?” Allie tossed it into the box labeled Donations. “Maybe they can sell it as a costume or something. Anything else in that one?”

  Tori pulled out the last few garments from the box in front of her. “Just some more of our old clothes.”

  Joan scooted further beneath the rafters. “Allie, are you sure you don’t want to keep some of them for when Joanie gets older?”

  Tori had a box of the clothing she’d worn in high school pushed off to one side, ready to be loaded in her car and taken back to her apartment. It wasn’t likely that she’d wear many of them again, but she couldn’t bear to give them away.

  Allie obviously didn’t feel the same. “Definitely not. My child is not wearing hand-me-downs from her mother.” She blew her bangs off her forehead. “Besides, she won’t be able to wear those for years, but there are orphans all over the world who need them now.”

  Tori compressed the garments in the Donations box and folded the flaps to seal it. She slid it toward the opening in the floor, then stuck her head down and shouted, “Eric, here’s another one.” Then she sat back and looked around the attic. The few pieces of furniture stored up here—a lopsided floor lamp, a single bed frame, a couple of mismatched end tables—had already been hauled downstairs by Eric and Ken and loaded into the back of Eric’s pickup to be taken to the Salvation Army. Their old toy box was in the truck too and would be taken back to Allie’s house along with an old trunk of Gram’s, filled with sewing supplies and fabric scraps. All that was left were a half-dozen boxes, filled mostly with clothes and a few odds and ends. Hopefully Mom and Gram were making similar progress with the stuff stored in the basement.

  “Here’s a whole box of blankets and stuff.” Joan shoved a box out from beneath the slanted rafte
rs toward the center of the open space. “I think they might have been from before the divorce.”

  Tori pulled it into the ring of light from the naked bulb that swung above their heads. “Ug. That’s pretty heavy. There’s something other than blankets in here.” She folded back the top flaps and pulled out a fuzzy blue blanket, and beneath that, a thick comforter. The musty smell grew stronger. She looked inside. “Well, that explains the weight. There are a bunch of books in here.”

  She lifted out a thick hard-back tome and squinted at the cover. “It’s a textbook. General and Social Psychology.” She extended the book toward Allie. “Is this yours?”

  Allie shook her head. “My old college textbooks are in my garage.”

  Joan crawled over and pulled out another one. “Look, here’s Psychology: The Key Concepts.” She fanned the pages. “I wonder if these are Mom’s.”

  Tori rose up on her knees and dug through a layer of books. Beneath them lay a couple of file folders with what looked like old tax forms inside, and then—“What’s this?” She pulled out a shoebox, its sides creased and the top crushed.

  Allie gasped. Her eyes had gone round. “I know what that is.”

  Tori lifted the lid and looked inside. “It’s full of pictures.” She pulled one out and flipped it over. Her heart gave a lurch. Staring back at her was a face she hadn’t seen in fifteen years. The familiar smile, aimed straight at the camera—straight at her—made her breath whoosh out of her lungs.

  “It’s Daddy,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the snapshot. He wore cutoffs and a pair of flip-flops, his bare chest tanned and gleaming in the sunlight. He held a big sponge in one hand, a garden hose in the other, and soapsuds covered the hood of a red car behind him.

  Joan reached into the box and pulled out a stack of photos. She flipped through them one at a time. “They’re all of Daddy.”

  Allie nodded. “I’ll bet Mom forgot this box was up here.”

  Tori looked up at her. “What do you mean?”