“That’s not necessary,” Marilee said.
“I gotta hear this,” Josh said. By the time Sam had finished the story, the boy was doubled over with laughter and the dog was thumping his tail in delight.
“Very funny,” Marilee muttered from the stove. But she didn’t mind being the brunt of the joke as long as Josh found something to laugh about.
MARILEE TOOK THE DAY before the bazaar off from work. She iced cakes, packed them in boxes donated by the local bakery and made several trips to the VFW hall where Clara, Ruby and Nell, as well as a dozen other women were setting up. Sam showed up to do whatever lifting was necessary and spent much of his time flirting. Marilee, despite the butterflies in her stomach, told him she had absolutely no time for such nonsense.
Finally, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a room where signs had been painted and were in the process of drying. “How about a little kiss for all my hard work?”
“Okay,” she relented. “One small kiss, and we get back to work.” She primly offered her lips.
He chuckled and pulled her into his arms, capturing her mouth with his and kissing her until she was breathless and dizzy.
When he released her, her head was spinning. “You cheated,” she said, trying to catch her breath and keep her heart from flying out of her chest.
“You’re right, I’m downright worthless. By the way, are you wearing panties under that skirt?”
A shiver raced up her spine as Marilee gaped at him in disbelief. “Well, I have never, ever—”
“That’s your problem, Marilee. Maybe it’s time you did.”
“There’s no hope for you, Sam Brewer.”
“You’re right. I’m a lost cause. You’d better git while the gittin’ is good.”
Marilee opened the door and almost bumped into Josh. “Have you seen Sam?” he asked.
She knew her face was the color of a red delicious apple. “Yes, we were just looking over the signs. They’re dry now. You may want to help Sam put them in place.”
“Hey, buddy,” Sam said. “I could use your help.”
Marilee hurried from the room, realizing she was holding her breath. The last thing she wanted Josh to see was her kissing Sam Brewer.
“Excuse me, madam,” a small man, wearing thick-framed glasses, said. “I’m Mr. Dill. I used to work for Sotheby’s. Mrs. Esmerelda Cunningham has asked me to oversee a silent auction for your bazaar.”
Marilee escorted him to the room where Esmerelda’s donations were stored and unlocked the door. “We haven’t moved the items out as of yet,” she said.
He glanced around the room. “This will be fine. I’ll need a couple of large folding tables to display some of the smaller pieces, but I should have more than enough space. I’ll also need someone to move the furniture around. And of course there should be a sign above the door, so people will know where the silent auction is to be held.”
Marilee found Sam and Josh posting signs. “Sam, we need more men.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll call a few guys and see if they can help out.”
“Just so happens I have two strong men with me,” Winnie said, coming up behind her.
Marilee turned and found Mike and another teenager beside him. “We’re here to help,” Mike asked. “This is my friend Jo-Jo. Just tell us what you need.”
She thanked them and told them where they could find Mr. Dill.
Within an hour, Sam had enlisted the help of several more able-bodied men, including Bobby Benson.
The day passed quickly as everyone worked, setting up tables, unloading boxes. Clara had to request several more tables for her books and magazines. Marilee and Ruby carried one over for her.
“How come it’s taking you so long to get your tables in order?” Ruby asked. “You’re not using the Dewey decimal system, are you?”
Clara looked perturbed. “Of course not. But I’ve had to place the books in categories. Fiction, nonfiction, romance, adventure, science fiction—”
“Is this a menopause thing?”
“It’s called organization, Ruby. Perhaps there’s a lesson in it for you.”
“Well, you can obsess over it as long as you like, but I’m grabbing something to eat.”
“Perhaps when you’ve had a bite, I can help you arrange your table,” Clara said.
Ruby looked at Marilee, who was doing her best not to laugh. “I think Clara is low on estrogen today, if you ask me. Either that or she needs to get laid.”
“Oh my,” Marilee said, not knowing how else to reply.
The VFW members had supplied hot dogs and drinks, but nobody lingered over lunch because there was too much to do. Fortunately, Nell had made a diagram of where everything was to be placed, but they were quickly running out of space.
“I’m glad A-1 Rental is letting us use their tents,” Marilee told the woman. “We’re going to have to move the tools and lawn mowers outside.”
“May as well move the exercise equipment out there too,” Nell replied, making adjustments to her diagram. “We’ll have to do that first thing in the morning.”
It was after nine o’clock when an exhausted Marilee and her group finally left. Nell, who’d been driven home by Bobby Benson earlier, had promised to make submarine sandwiches. The girls ate at the kitchen table while Sam and Josh chowed down at the coffee table in the den.
“I’m too tired to live,” Ruby said. “Somebody just shoot me and put me out of my misery.”
Winnie grunted. “Don’t talk to me about tired.”
The weary group finished their sandwiches, thanked Nell and said good-night. It was obvious Sam wanted to spend time with Marilee, but it was impossible under the circumstances. “Try to rest,” he said as he walked Josh and her to the door. “Tomorrow’s going to be another hectic day.”
MARILEE, NELL AND WINNIE ARRIVED at the bazaar early the next morning, only to find a long line at the door. “Oh my goodness!” Nell said. “This is a good sign.”
“We’d better go through the back,” Marilee told them.
Clara and Ruby were already inside, as was Mr. Dill who was still going through Mrs. Cunningham’s donations. “I’ve listed the absolute minimum bid we’ll accept on these items,” he said. “I’ve also supplied a large box that will remain locked during the auction. Those who participate will be assured that nobody will see their bid until the auction is officially over. At that time, I’ll announce the names of the highest bidder.”
“That sounds perfect, Mr. Dill,” Marilee said. “We are so lucky to have you with us today.”
The man preened.
Clara pulled Marilee aside. “We have a small problem,” she said. “The fellow who was supposed to sit in the dunking booth came down with a bad cold. We have no one to man it.”
“I’ll work on that,” Marilee promised.
Sam and Josh arrived shortly afterward. “Are you ready for us to start carrying things out to the tents?” Sam asked.
“Yes. Your mother has a diagram of where everything is to be placed.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Sam told Josh.
“One more thing,” Marilee said. “Our volunteer from the dunking booth took ill. We need someone to fill his place.”
Sam and Josh exchanged a look. “I guess that means us,” Sam said.
The boy shrugged. “We can take turns.”
Sam shook his head. “We’ll have to run home and grab bathing suits as soon as we get set up.”
“Thank you,” Marilee said.
Once the bazaar officially opened, people rushed through as though they couldn’t get inside quickly enough. Marilee took her place at the baked goods table. A woman named Hilda had been assigned to help her, which was a good thing, because people swarmed the table and Marilee knew she would never have been able to keep up. Before Marilee knew it, lunchtime had rolled around. She sent Hilda to grab something to eat, and the woman returned with hot dogs and colas.
“You have to see the hunk in the dunki
ng booth,” Hilda said. “Why, if I were a single woman and twenty years younger, I’d hog-tie him and take him home with me.” She blushed. “Listen to me talk, and me being a fine Christian woman.”
Marilee was almost ashamed of herself, but she hurried outside the minute things slowed down at their table. The lawn was packed with activity: a horseshoe toss, a fishing booth and a big board holding numerous balloons where children took turns trying to burst one with a dart. There was a long line at the rubber house and the pony rides. She spied the dunking booth and hurried over.
Sam was standing beside it wearing a bathing suit, with a towel draped over his shoulder. Marilee could only stare at the broad, hair-roughened chest, and the way the hair thinned over his stomach and formed a line that disappeared beneath his bathing suit. Lord, Lord, she thought. Her gaze dropped to his legs, lean but muscular, covered with the same black hair. She swallowed, and it felt like one of Winnie’s favorite pickled eggs going down her throat.
If Sam noticed her staring he was polite enough not to mention it. He simply smiled. “Have you come to relieve us?” he asked.
Marilee tried to keep her eyes shoulder level. “I just wanted to see how things are going out here.” she managed to say.
“Hi, Mom.”
Marilee glanced over and saw Josh in the dunking booth. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked him.
“Naw, I’m having too much fun to be cold.” An elderly gentleman stepped up to the booth and threw a ball. He missed the target completely. Josh laughed. “Give it up, mister,” he said. “You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.” The man took another ball, tossed it hard at the target and Josh was dumped unceremoniously into the water. He came up sputtering.
Marilee and Sam laughed. “That’ll teach you to talk back to your elders,” Sam shouted to the boy.
Marilee hurried back inside, where she tried to concentrate on selling baked items, despite the mental picture she had of Sam in his bathing suit. The crowd was still thick, and she noted a number of people going into the silent auction room.
By three o’clock, Marilee and Hilda had sold almost all of the baked items and were getting ready to break down their table. From the looks of it, she and Hilda weren’t the only ones selling out, Marilee noticed. The surrounding tables had cleared considerably as had the large appliances and furniture.
By five o’clock, the crowd had thinned, although a number of people had gathered at the door where the silent auction was still going on. Marilee wondered how Mr. Dill had done as she and Hilda began to assist the others in packing away the items that hadn’t sold. Sam and Josh appeared, this time fully dressed, and they immediately began breaking down tables and stacking boxes along one wall so the Salvation Army could pick up the leftovers on Monday.
“Have you seen Mom and Winnie?” Sam asked Marilee.
“One of the volunteers drove them home a couple of hours ago,” Marilee said. “They were exhausted.”
Marilee headed to the silent-auction room and found Mr. Dill standing at the back door with a checklist as people carried out boxes of china and antiques.
“The auction went very well,” he whispered to Marilee. “I haven’t tallied up the figures yet, but I’ve sold completely out. I’ll call Ruby Ledbetter first thing in the morning and give her the numbers.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dill,” Marilee said. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
“My pleasure. Besides, Esmerelda would have wrung my neck if I’d said no.”
It was after nine o’clock by the time the VFW building had been cleared, swept and mopped. A number of men had already taken down the tents and cleaned up the debris outside. A tired Marilee thanked the volunteers, said goodbye to Clara and Ruby and climbed into her car with Josh. Sam followed and turned into his driveway, waving to them before going inside his house.
Winnie was lying on the sofa watching TV when Marilee and Josh came through the front door. “I made sandwiches,” she said.
“Did you take Rascal out?” Josh asked.
“Three times. You owe me. Once I get my figure back and start dating, you’ll be the first one I ask to baby-sit.”
“Seems Mike likes your figure just fine,” the boy countered.
Winnie grunted. “What do you know about romance? You’re just a kid.”
“I’m taking lessons from Sam. I hear he’s got a way with the ladies.”
Marilee arched one eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”
Winnie shook her head sadly. “Josh, there are some things better left unsaid.”
RUBY CALLED AT TEN O’CLOCK the following morning. “Marilee, I hope you’re sitting down,” she said, “because I have the final figures.”
“I’m listening,” Marilee said.
“Well, after expenses, we personally brought in more than twelve thousand dollars on the bazaar.”
“I’m impressed,” Marilee said. “What about the silent auction?”
“I just got off the telephone with Mr. Dill. You’re going to love this. He came about four hundred dollars short of fifty grand. We have a grand total of sixty-two thousand, one hundred dollars and seventy-eight cents.”
Marilee dropped the telephone. She picked it up. “Ruby, are you sure?” she asked, fearing her heart would give out on her.
“I’ve been going through the figures since five o’clock this morning.”
Marilee was beside herself with happiness. “Have you told Clara?”
“I’ve been trying to reach her but her line is busy. She’s probably talking with her new beau. I’ll try her again.”
Marilee hung up. She realized she was trembling. Sixty-two thousand dollars! It was more than enough money to renovate Blessing Home. She could only think of one person she wanted to share the news with. She hurried out the front door and across her lawn and spied Sam cleaning out the back of his truck.
“Sam!” she shouted. “You won’t believe it!” She jumped the hedges, but her foot caught in a root, and she fell face first on the ground.
“Marilee!” Sam dropped his shovel and raced to her side. He knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms. “Marilee, are you hurt?”
She laughed. “Only my pride. Was my fall at least graceful?”
“No, honey. You looked like a one-legged gazelle going over those hedges.” His look sobered. “You could have broken your neck. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She saw the love and concern in his eyes, and her insides grew soft. “Oh, Sam,” she said, his name sounding like a sigh.
His gaze fell to her lips. “What, baby?”
“Would it shock you terribly if I told you—”
“Told me what, sweetheart?”
Marilee gazed up at him, longing to tell him the truth about how she felt about him, that she thought she had fallen in love with him, but she was afraid. “Well, I—” She was prevented from saying anything more when Nell stepped out the front door.
“Sam,” the woman called out. She glanced around the yard and frowned. “Sam, what are you doing to Marilee?” She hurried over.
Marilee was almost thankful for the interruption. The last thing she wanted was to have Sam think her forward. “I fell over the hedges,” Marilee confessed.
“Oh my!”
“But I’m okay.”
“Then why is my son still holding you?”
Sam grinned. “Because she feels so good, Mom.”
Nell looked fretful. “I’ll bet Edna-Lee Bodine is getting an eyeful. Sam, dear, please get off poor Marilee this instant. You’ll have the neighbors thinking she’s a loose woman.”
“Aw, Mom, can’t we stay like this for a few more minutes?”
“I insist you stop this nonsense, Samuel Brewer. Marilee has a son to think about.”
Sam got up reluctantly and helped Marilee to her feet. Once she’d brushed herself off, she remembered why she was there. Her face lit up. “You’ll never believe this,” she said, “but the bazaar brought in sixty-two thousand dolla
rs. And that doesn’t even count all the other donations we’ve received.”
Nell and Sam both gave a shout of joy and took turns hugging one another. “That’ll be more than enough to get Blessing Home in shape,” Sam said. “You girls should be proud of yourselves.”
“I think the dunking booth brought in the most money,” Marilee teased. “All those women couldn’t wait to get a look at you in your bathing suit.” Marilee chuckled. She was almost sure he’d blushed.
“Oh, goodness, I forgot,” Nell said. “You have a telephone call, Sam.”
“Who is it?”
“Shelly.”
Sam’s smile disappeared from his face. “Tell her—” He turned away from Marilee. “Never mind, I’ll tell her.” He stalked toward the house.
“Shelly is Sam’s ex-wife, right?” Marilee said, feeling a bit uncomfortable that the woman was calling him.
Nell nodded. “Moneygrubbing female,” she muttered. “Always looking for a handout. Good thing Sam has a lot of money.”
Marilee arched one eyebrow. “He does?”
“Didn’t you know? He sold his Atlanta business for big bucks.”
“He doesn’t act or dress like he has money,” Marilee said.
“Oh, that’s just Sam. Besides, money doesn’t mean anything to him. He’s not afraid of hard work. Do you want to come inside for coffee?”
Marilee was strangely disturbed by the news. Did Sam think she was after his money like his ex-wife? she wondered. “No, I’d better get back to the house. I just wanted to give you the news.”
Inside, Sam snatched up the telephone. “Okay, Shelly, what is it now?” he demanded.
The woman on the other end hesitated. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“I’m tired, that’s what’s wrong. I’m tired of you calling me every time you chip a fingernail or need money for a new car. I have my own life now.”
“Sam, I—”
“Listen to me, Shelly,” he interrupted. “If you don’t stop hassling me I’m going to call my attorney. I am not sending you any more money, you got that?”
“Yes, Sam,” she said, “but that’s not why I’m calling. I just wanted to let you know I’m getting married.”
Sam sighed his relief, feeling as though a giant boulder had just been lifted from his shoulders. No more phone calls from Shelly, crying and asking for help. He laughed. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
A New Attitude Page 31