An Allegheny Homecoming

by T. R. McClure

  “Hey, Wendy?”

  She responded by squeezing his hand again.

  “What are you doing next Saturday night?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  WENDY HAD JUST finished the Tuesday morning weather segment when Walt asked to see her. Back to her original schedule of early morning and late evening, she had made arrangements to meet Katie, who was driving in from the city, at The Wildflower later. Now, sitting in Walt’s office, watching him chew on an unlit cigar, she wondered how dry tobacco leaves could possibly taste good.

  “Joe Kowalsky wants an interview.”

  “He’s back? You’re kidding.” Wendy sat up. The news that the tea shop owner was in town was the last thing she’d expected to hear from her boss. “Why aren’t you sending Casey? You said I should stick to the weather. Remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. But Mr. Kowalsky specifically asked for you.”

  “I suppose he wants the interview Sunday afternoon.”

  Walt leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “Actually, he’s opening his shop today and thought you might stop in. You can do the six o’clock weather from out front. Good segue. Mark wants to do the late night slot.”

  And of course, whatever Mark wants, Mark gets.

  Driving back to Bear Meadows, Wendy wondered if Joe would bring up the last interview. Reopening the shop was a bold move. She pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the coffee shop. Her sister’s expensive sports car was already there. She trotted up the steps and opened the door to The Wildflower. The bell rang overhead, and she was hit with the aroma of fresh-roasted coffee beans.

  Her gaze was drawn to the crowd in the seating area. In one of the four big chairs sat her sister, dressed in dark jeans and a dark green cowl-neck sweater. Even in casual clothes, her sister gave off an air of sophistication, which wasn’t lost on the men perched nearby. Sonny Hoffman, his father, Fritz, Bill and Moose Williams were all leaning forward, elbows on knees, as if they didn’t want to miss a word her sister said. Wendy walked over to the counter. No one had noticed her entrance.

  Behind the counter, Louise and Holly chuckled over the men’s fascination with Katie. Deb, arms crossed, said, “She’s like a magnet. A blond magnet.”

  “A man magnet.” Louise ran her red-tipped nails through her blond curls. “You know if I were ten inches taller, I could pull off that look.”

  Holly fixed the front of her apron, fingering a dried milk splash just below the embroidered flower. “How does she do it?”

  “I’ve been telling you for years. Makeup and better clothes.” Louise patted her friend on the back. The bell over the door dinged as Mrs. Hershberger entered. Glancing at the sitting area, she immediately approached the group of women at the counter. “What’s going on?”

  Wendy hesitated. “My sister is here.”

  Vera’s gray eyes grew wide as she turned and took in the group on the other side of the room. “Katie Valentine is here?” She tapped Wendy’s arm and waited until she had her attention. “Can you introduce me?” She beamed.

  Wendy was taken aback. This was the most animated she’d seen the teacher since she’d gotten to know her better. What did it matter if she introduced them? She had nothing to lose, and if it brightened the older woman’s day, well, that was a good thing. “Sure.”

  * * *

  JOSH STOOD AT the front window of The Cookie Jar considering who in town would be driving a sports car in the middle of winter. Though the streets were dry, snow and slush lingered in the parking areas and along the curb. His big truck dwarfed the tiny vehicle.

  When he saw Wendy pull into the space on the other side of the little red car, all curiosity about the vehicle vanished. His heart quickened as he watched Wendy mount the steps to the coffee shop, her dark hair perfectly in place as always. The night they looked at the stars he had been slightly drunk and asked her out on a date. Later, when the potent eggnog had worn off, he’d driven back to his dad’s, wondering if he’d made a mistake. How could he be looking forward to a date and regretting the impulse at the same time?

  Across the street a light clicked on, casting a glow through the darkened tea shop. The former banker had returned. The Closed sign still hung in the window.

  “Your friend is back.”

  He heard the oven door slam shut in the kitchen. With a glance at the cookie jar clock on the wall, Josh rounded the counter and stood in the doorway between the shop and the kitchen. “Did you hear me?” A tray of just-iced pastries was on the table. He sneaked one and took a bite. Since coming home, he couldn’t seem to get enough of his mother’s cooking.

  His mother shut off the mixer and turned. She wiped a floured hand across her forehead, leaving a smudge of flour. “Did you say something?”

  “Your friend is back.” He watched the puzzled look in her light blue eyes fade as she caught his meaning. She went back to the mixer and scraped the sides of the bowl with a spatula.

  “Did I ever tell you how we met?”

  Immersed in enjoying the textures and sweetness of the pastry, Josh tried to avoid the question. Was now the time to talk to his mother about leaving town? “No.” The truthful answer.

  His mom stopped her batter making and leaned back against the counter, her eyes soft in memory. “Joe renovated the library into Tea for You himself. The windows were covered in newspaper so nobody, except maybe Deb, knew what was going on. Being the mayor, she always knows. I certainly didn’t. I was keeping to myself mostly. One day I went upstairs to change into a short-sleeve shirt because I was so warm from all the baking, and I looked out the window and saw a man going after my rosebushes with hedge clippers.” She straightened. Her eyes grew wide at the memory.

  “Which rosebushes?” Josh stood and, bringing the coffeepot to the table, refilled both their cups. Then he sat to finish the rest of his pastry.

  “Well, they’re not my rosebushes.” His mom shrugged. “I kind of adopted them. The librarian didn’t want anything to do with them. They line the fence between the library and the park, and nobody was taking care of them. They’re heritage tea roses, like my mother used to have. Do you remember Grandma’s house?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “I’m kind of glad you weren’t around for what I did next. I walked out into the middle of the street and started yelling at him to get away from my rosebushes. By the time I was done, everybody in the coffee shop was out on the porch. Mac walked me back into the bakery. He kind of defused the situation.” She chuckled. “I thought he was going to arrest me for disturbing the peace.”

  Josh reached across the table and took his mother’s hand. “We all do something crazy at one time or another.”

  “Well, I wish I had timed my crazy when The Wildflower wasn’t full of customers.” She rolled her eyes and then squeezed his hand. “Joe never said a word about my tirade. He just kept bringing me tea samples and making me lunch. You know, I wasn’t eating much back in those days.”

  Josh thought of the box of chamomile tea at the cabin. Just how close had his mother and the tea shop owner been? “You’re going across the street, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t even give the man a chance to explain.”

  “Does this mean you and Dad—?”

  “I got the divorce papers Friday.” Setting her cup next to the coffeemaker, she returned to the mixer. She poured the batter into a long cake pan and scraped the sides before setting the bowl in the sink.

  The sweetness from the pastry was gone. Josh stood and walked to the back door. It looked out onto an alley. The brown cat, the one his mother had called Mister Cee, stared up at him. “It’s over then. No hope of reconciliation.”

  “I’m sorry, Josh. It doesn’t mean we both don’t still love you. We do.”

  “I know.” He had failed. Agai
n.

  “I’ll put the cake in the oven. If I’m not back in forty minutes, can you take it out for me?”

  Without turning from the door, Josh nodded. “Sure.”

  His mom bustled about the kitchen, putting things away or in the sink. He figured she was heading for the front door when he called to her, “Don’t rush into anything, okay?”

  He followed her out onto the porch and watched her walk into the tea shop. Through the glass he saw the two embrace. He felt odd watching and turned away. Four doors down the door to The Wildflower opened, spilling laughter out onto the porch. He turned to enter the bakery.

  “Josh?” He stiffened. Wendy. Relationships didn’t work in his family, so what was he doing asking the reporter out on a date? He fixed a smile on his face, but when he greeted her, he saw she was followed by a tall blonde. The air left his lungs, taking the smile with it. Wendy’s older sister, the famous television newscaster. Instead of waiting, he waved and opened the door to the bakery, intending to escape.

  “Josh, wait.” Wendy smiled tentatively as she approached. Her sister followed more slowly as she took in the sights around her. Wendy’s sister didn’t miss anything. But when they came face-to-face, Josh could almost feel the woman’s full attention. This must be how she attracted the important interviews. He backed up a step. “Hi, Wendy, how are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks. This is my sister, Katie. Man, you’ve practically met my whole family.” Her eyes danced and she wore a big smile, obviously happy to be introducing her sister. “What are you up to?”

  “I was talking to my mom.” He glanced across the street, where both his mom and Joe could be seen, still standing by the checkout counter.

  “I hear Mr. Kowalsky is back.” When Josh tore his gaze from the couple inside Tea for You and concentrated on Wendy, she motioned to her sister. “Katie, this is Josh Hunter.”

  Long fingers, neat, white-tipped nails. Her grip was strong. “Pleased to meet you, Josh. I understand you helped my sister out of a snowdrift a few weeks ago. That was kind of you.”

  He couldn’t miss the fact that Katie’s eyes were sharp. Those eyes missed nothing. “No problem.” This was the newswoman about to start a new television series, something about crime.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Saturday.” Wendy smiled.

  He could see the similarity between the two women. They had the same complexion, a healthy glow and the same shape of face, oval. Maybe since her sister was home, Wendy was canceling, which would probably be for the best. “Okay. Something come up?”

  “I just wondered if you could pick me up at the station.”

  Suddenly chilled, Josh rubbed his hands together and wondered what he had been thinking asking a news reporter out on a date. But he was committed. “Sure.”

  “Great. See you Saturday.” And with a warm grin and a wave the two sisters left.

  Looking at his own vehicle, covered with slush from driving along back roads, he realized he had a lot to do before heading west on Interstate 80. A wash, an oil change and a full tank of gas would be a good start.

  * * *

  JOSH HAD FALLEN under her sister’s spell just like every other man in town. Yet, instead of wanting to hear her stories, he had withdrawn. When she’d asked him to pick her up at the station, Wendy had the distinct feeling he was having second thoughts. But here they were, sharing a large pizza with everything on it at a cute restaurant in Shadow Falls. And he seemed himself again.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind? This place has the best pizza around, but it’s not very fancy.” Josh pointed at the plastic checked tablecloths and paper napkins. Sitting in a red vinyl booth, Josh gave Wendy an apologetic smile.

  Trying to break off a long string of mozzarella, Wendy lifted her slice of pizza high in the air. Although her mouth was full, she shook her head. “Um-um.” The string broke and stuck to her chin. She reached for her napkin, but Josh beat her to it. When he dabbed at her face, she felt the heat rush into her cheeks. “Except I’m making a mess of things.”

  “You’re enjoying your food. I’m glad.” He propped his arms on the table and watched her eat.

  “How did you find this place?” she asked.

  “It’s been here since I was a kid. I spent some time in Italy when I was in the service. This is the closest I’ve ever come to Italian pizza in the States.”

  “No kidding? I’d love to go to Italy someday.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  She returned his smile. If she couldn’t even get out of Bear Meadows, how in the world would she ever get to Italy? With Katie home, Wendy’s lack of advancement was even more obvious. But she was on a date. For one night, surely Wendy could forget about her career. “Christmas is a little over a week away. Are you ready?”

  Josh’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. He looked like a little boy who had forgotten to do his homework. “What?”

  “Don’t tell me you forgot about Christmas.”

  Josh drew his hand across his face in what was by now becoming a familiar gesture whenever he was at a loss. “I sure did. Of course—” he reached across the table and linked his fingers with hers “—I didn’t plan to be home this long.” He looked down at their connected hands. “Do you know you have sauce on your fingers?” He got another napkin and cleaned her hand and then his.

  “Sorry.” She grinned. “I told you I like to enjoy my food.”

  “Enjoy being the operative word. You didn’t say wear your food.”

  “Whatever.” She grinned again and tossed the last bite of crust in her mouth. She leaned her head against the back of the booth and closed her eyes. “Oh my, that was the best pizza I’ve ever eaten.”

  She was still savoring the rich sauce when, glancing down at their entwined fingers, Wendy felt an unaccustomed warmth. She lowered her voice. “You’re taking care of me again.”

  His lips curved up, but he just shrugged as he released his hold and tossed the soiled napkin on the empty pizza tray. “Are you in a hurry to get home?”

  “Are you kidding? Katie’s there. What did you have in mind?”

  “I thought I’d take the scenic route back to Bear Meadows.”

  Wendy didn’t bother to tell Josh it was dark out and they wouldn’t see much. “Sounds just fine, Mr. Hunter.”

  They were driving along a back road bordered on both sides by tall trees when the truck began to sputter and cough.

  Josh shifted to a lower gear. “Uh-oh.”

  In the lights from the dash she could see his look of concern. “Something wrong with your truck?”

  “Not exactly.” Josh gave her a sideways glance that seemed slightly guilty.

  “Because this truck is brand-new.” At her words the truck sputtered and the engine died. Except for the pinging of the engine as it cooled, they sat in silence and, when Josh shut off the headlights, complete darkness. “Should we call a tow truck?”

  “No.”

  “If your truck is broken, then we need a tow truck.”

  “It’s not broken.”

  She weighed his words. He was being oddly reticent. He loved his truck, and she couldn’t imagine his not keeping up with repairs. Then the realization hit her. “Are we out of gas?” In the dimness of the truck cab, she could make out Josh nodding. She punched him in the shoulder. “You forgot to put gas in your truck? What the heck, Hunter?”

  He dropped his forehead onto the steering wheel. “I meant to fill up when I got the oil changed. I had laundry in the washer and I forgot.” He lifted his head and reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, Wendy.”

  He looked so dejected Wendy couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve had a lot going on. I hope you know where we are. Can we walk the rest of the way?”

  “There’s good news and bad news.”


  “Oh, brother. Give me the bad news first.”

  “We’re seven or eight miles from your house.”

  “And the good news?”

  “We’re only a mile from the Smith farm. We should be able to get gas from them.”

  Once their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Josh turned off his light and they walked down the country road hand in hand, aided by the meager glow of a quarter moon. Hiking the long driveway to the Smith house, they were glad to see a light on in a downstairs window.

  They were greeted by Hawkeye. He wore a faded plaid housecoat, flannel pajamas and worn leather slippers. Opening the door wide, he ushered them inside as if he were accustomed to getting midnight visitors. “Gas? There’s a full can in the shed out back. Wait here while I go get it.”

  But Josh insisted on retrieving the can, and Wendy waited in the living room with Hawkeye while Josh disappeared outside. She looked around the old-fashioned living room. Portraits of ancestors hung on flowered wallpaper. Yet a big-screen television took up most of one wall. The half-finished pieces of wood scattered on the coffee table reminded her of the twins’ internet business. She looked up and caught her host watching her. “How’s your business going?”

  “Good.” He leaned back against the couch and crossed his legs. His slipper dangled from his foot.

  Wendy sighed and wondered if even her talented sister could pull words from the reticent farmer. She tried again. “Would you be interested in some free advertising? I work for WSHF, you know.”

  “I’m familiar with your work, Miss Valentine.”