by LoRee Peery
“Mary. She had much to be forgiven for, so I’ve been taught that she was probably able to forgive others much after Jesus forgave her.”
“Right. I call her one of the bad girls of the Bible. And I think I just realized that it’s not the amount of your sin, but the awareness of your sin that counts.” Moselle turned to face him. “I’ve been sinning in my heart by holding animosity toward both you and Beth.”
“That works. So we’re all dirty rotten sinners.” Eric’s irresistible smile spread across his face. “But God brought us back together, don’t you think?”
“Maybe He did.” She was ready to change the subject. “Who said I was going to give in?”
“I’m not going to give up, toss you away again.” He reached out and wiped the tears from her face with gentle fingers. Then he drew her back to sit next to him in the glider.
How appropriate. Geneva must have switched the kitchen radio to Moselle’s favorite country station. Tim McGraw’s My Best Friend, sounded through the open window.
Would this new-found peace with Eric, her lifetime best friend, last?
Moselle’s Insurance
11
Eric whipped off his leather tool belt and tossed it in the bed of his pickup. He leaned against the open tailgate, adjusted the rolled-up blue handkerchief that he used for a sweatband, and scanned the rear exterior wall of Frivolities. Rebar had been a good choice, along with concrete mesh, to reinforce footings. The treated pier posts were all in place. It was easy to see the finished product in his mind’s eye. Before he started building the frame, the old iron fire escape needed to go.
He shot a glance down the alley at the fire department’s garage and saw that the bay doors were closed.
All’s quiet on that end of my life, for the moment.
His gaze landed on the rear door of Frivolities willing Moselle to exit. She had the uncanny sense of timing to offer refreshing drinks when he needed them most. But since the place was all ready for its grand opening this weekend, he figured she was busy as all get-out.
At the rattle of a loud rumbling muffler, Eric stepped away from his truck to greet his buddy. Rainn Harris was about ten years older, but he and Eric had become fast friends when they met in college. They’d remained in contact since. When a job had opened up in Platteville, Eric told Rainn he’d be the perfect artist to re-do stained glass. Now they not only volunteered for the local fire department, but they attended the same church.
Rainn jumped out of his truck and ran his gaze over the iron they needed to remove. “She’s pretty old. This shouldn’t take long.”
Thirty minutes later Eric slapped Rainn on the back. “You never told me you were prophetic.”
Rainn tossed his head, whipping away a drop of sweat that threatened to leave a premature gray curl and fall onto his face. “You never said the nuts had rusted off the bolts.”
Eric shrugged and turned to face the opening back door.
Instead of Moselle, who had only waved when she set out empty boxes earlier, Geneva came their way with two tall to-go cups, complete with lids.
“You sure made short work of that,” she greeted.
“Couldn’t have done it by myself.” Eric’s gaze shifted to the tempting aroma Geneva carried with her.
“It’s time you try a good coffee from our exquisite coffee machine,” Geneva said, offering one fragrant drink to Eric.
At the face he must have made, she replied, “I know you drink cappuccino. This one is French vanilla.”
“All right, then. That’s the only flavor I’ll consider.” He nodded his thanks and inhaled deeply. “If it tastes half as good as it smells you’ve got a winner.”
“No cappuccino for me, thanks.” Rainn grinned and waved away the offered cup when Geneva turned to him. “I’m sweet enough.”
Geneva offered her free hand. “You must be Rainn.”
“That I am,” Rainn said, holding her hand a little longer than Eric approved of. “And I take mine strong and black.”
“We’ve brewed several pots of regular throughout the day and into this evening. In preparation for Frivolities’ Grand Opening we’ve handed out samples up and down the street.” She looked Rainn full in the face. “But my coffee may not be strong enough for you.”
Eric watched in amusement as Geneva smoothed a nervous hand over her patchwork Frivolities apron. Rainn had that effect on most women, no matter what age.
It had to be the hair.
Now Geneva acted like she didn’t know what to do with the extra cappuccino.
“Don’t waste that.”
Geneva ignored Eric, still focusing on Rainn. “Come on in and I’ll brew you some, straight and leaded.”
“Thanks just the same. Another time, maybe,” Rainn added, shaking the curls off his forehead. “From what I’ve heard, a sane man should stay away from such feminine poof.”
Geneva laughed as though tickled at the spoof.
“But, hey, it’ll be good business for the town.” Rainn ran a hand through his hair and the curls sprang off to the side.
Geneva handed the second cup to Eric. “Nuke it later, if you like. And Eric, before I forget, the three of us owe you for the referral of a talented and honest electrician, as well as the finish guys and those who cleaned up. We couldn’t be more pleased.” She pivoted before Eric could respond, giving a trill of her fingers over her shoulder before returning inside.
“I hope it didn’t stretch her budget,” he commented at the close of the door.
Rainn’s smile slid into seriousness. “If the daughter looks anything like the mother, you’ve got a good thing going here.”
“You got that right.” Eric slapped Rainn on the shoulder and tossed his empty cup in the bed of his truck.
“I’d have a brand new stomach if I drank coffee that hot.”
Eric’s thoughts remained on Moselle. “I just wish she and I could start brand new.”
As though we had just met, instead of carrying the stink of old garbage between us.
“God knows what He’s doing,” Rainn reminded Eric. “All we have to do is go with the flow.”
Before they went back to work, Moselle came out with a cup in each hand. She met Eric’s gaze with a smile, then turned to his friend. “You must be Rainn.”
Eric burst out laughing and saluted Moselle.
She handed the black coffee to Rainn and huffed, hand on hip. She glared at Eric. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“I couldn’t resist.” Eric tapped Moselle’s latte with the second cappuccino. “Your mom said the exact same thing.”
Moselle screwed up her face and squeaked. “I’m turning into my mother? Gasp.”
While they shared a chuckle, Moselle ran an eye over the work in progress. “Those wooden posts look like lone soldiers, so straight and on guard. What are they, cedar or redwood?”
“Neither,” Eric answered. “I prefer chemically treated wood. Established cedar and redwood are endangered.”
“Good for you.” She smiled her approval, blew him a kiss.
Eric puffed up, pleased at her praise.
Moselle took a cautious sip of her latte. “So, Rainn, I know you’re a firefighter, but what do you do for a living?”
“Right now I replace and repair stained glass windows.”
“Oh, you’re creative, like the Frivolities women.”
Eric savored his drink while she expressed interest and respect for Rainn as a fellow artist.
“Are you working on the old stone church, now?” she asked.
“Right.” Rainn looked over her shoulder. “I’d sure like to mix colors like that though.”
They all gazed at the pinks and purples, oranges and yellows of sunset, dappled with the gilded clouds.
Eric rested his free hand on Moselle’s shoulder, longing for a lifetime of sunsets with this woman.
Eventually, she turned to go back inside.
Rainn raised his cup to Eric in a toast. “She’s a keepe
r, all right,” he said with a low chuckle.
****
Moselle paused before the window, in the spot where she’d stood when Beth appeared the day before. Life can change in an instant. Before facing Beth, would she have considered how a person’s greatest need in life is spiritual?
She meandered through Frivolities, lost in thought. The day had been wild with busyness.
Moselle addressed heaven. Well, Lord, did you provide something spiritual in me, since I felt so fulfilled by giving Beth that silly bag?
Chasing her prayerful query, Moselle considered the late night’s talk with Eric. Her fists clenched. Why was life so complicated? Why was so much expected of her from all sides?
God was working on her conscience spiritually.
Eric was attacking her hormones and emotions.
Beth was nagging to renew an old friendship.
Her mom was depending on her more and more due to Aunt Lanae’s illness, which meant Moselle needed to focus on Frivolities and not so much on her life in Kansas City.
Yet, all of their expectations were nothing compared to what she expected of herself. She wanted, maybe even needed, to be everything they all wanted her to be, but she had to follow her own dreams as well.
“ARRGGH!”
After her inarticulate outburst, Moselle got back to the purpose at hand. The shop appeared ready for the next morning’s customers.
Vince Gill’s Go Rest High on that Mountain trilled from her cell phone.
Retrieving it from under the counter, the name Sam Jeffrey showed up.
“Hey, Sam, how are things in K.C.?”
“Not good, Moselle. Don’t you have loan paperwork with Hills City National?”
Foreboding churned her stomach. “Yes.”
“Their bank folded. It’s all over the news.”
****
The following morning, Moselle examined the framed pictures of herself displayed in Frivolities. It was an honor that her mother wanted to show off the unique frames, but she still felt uncomfortable as the focus. Then again, she couldn’t spoil her mom’s fun, so she checked her supply of business cards on the waist-level shelf and called it good.
She yawned so huge that tears came into her eyes. The excitement of the first day and night of their grand opening, and everything else in her life aside from Frivolities, had caused a restless night.
Her blurred vision landed on a living reminder of the one thing she’d blocked out of her memory from that long-ago last night with Eric. Her hand dropped from in front of her gaping mouth.
Kate Rawlins stood before her.
To her instant shame, the biggest gossip in Platteville brought back the moonlit night.
The disgrace of it all hit her full in the face. Again.
“Moselle Carson, I heard you had returned to your roots.” Kate Rawlins’s curious visit and whiny voice grated on Moselle’s nerves. “Well, I never have seen such folderol.”
Ms. Rawlins had said the same thing that last night with Eric. “Moselle Carson, what are you doing out here this time of night and holding your blouse together that way? Whatever happened to you?”
When they got back to town, Moselle had raced to the lighted porch. Eric peeled off. While gathering her emotions in order to enter her home, Moselle looked up to see Kate Rawlins walking her dog.
Chagrin pulsed through Moselle. The woman made her feel eighteen again.
“Where’s your mama?” Kate now asked. “This crazy store will never succeed. Who in their right mind would buy such useless junk like this?”
Moselle’s renewed mortification brought fresh heat rushing to her neck and face. The morning had seemed too bright and beautiful for the past to come back to haunt the day. She wanted to run away again.
She opened her mouth to make a brave attempt at pointing out something to be glad for, but Geneva came to stand at her daughter’s side.
“Good morning, Kate. Let me show you some old-fashioned items that aren’t quite so bright.” She raised her brow at Moselle and smiled reassuringly toward Kate. “And, please, have a cup of flavored coffee on the house.”
Moselle owed her mother big-time for jumping in to save her. But why did she have to be such a chicken? She dwelt on Kate’s intrusion throughout the morning and into the afternoon.
It was all a mistake. She should have stayed in Kansas.
No, she wouldn’t be here if God didn’t want her to be.
She went back and forth.
So, Lord, why won’t You give me courage?
Coming full circle, she and Beth were each in sight now, both in Platteville. The talk would resume. Life would march forward.
****
Moselle scurried back into Frivolities. She snatched a glance at her watch while flinging the patchwork apron over her head, and caught the string tie in her earring. The more she tried to undo it, the more it wouldn’t give up. The deep rumble of laughter brought all her lopsided struggles to a stop.
Eric.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me get out of this.” She muffled a laugh. She no doubt looked silly.
“I do love a captive audience.”
She blew her bangs and caught a glimpse of his biceps, accented by his crossed arms.
“Come on, Eric. I have things to do.”
“I seem to remember something your mother reminded us of when we were kids.”
She waited with her head cocked to the side, but the apron kept her from tilting her head high enough to see his face.
As though he’d read her thoughts, Eric leaned down. His golden brown eyes level with hers, he asked, “The magic word?”
His mouth quirked and she felt her own lips twitch. She had to appreciate the goofy dilemma.
“Please?” she mewed like a little girl.
As soon as he released the string from her dangling circlet of beads, she stretched her neck. It cracked in relief. She couldn’t help but giggle along with his contagious laugh. Soon there were tears in her eyes.
She dropped her head against his chest. “I take things way too serious, don’t I?” She had needed that humorous release.
When she caught her breath she lifted her hand, and felt Eric’s heartbeat—its rhythm flowing from his chest and filling her senses.
Nothing else existed.
Only Eric and this moment.
She lifted her eyes. Their beating hearts drowned out any other sound. Then his mouth met hers. He touched her with his mouth alone and the sweetness of the light touch brought tears to her open eyes.
Her pounding pulse was so loud to her ears that she imagined he could feel it against his lips. She gasped and felt her whole being drift into the sensation.
Her mother swung through the door from the office, loudly singing along with one of her old tunes and thrusting her hips, “Frivolities moved under my feet. Oops!” she yelped, and disappeared again.
Moselle clung to Eric, laughing hard. She lost the battle when she tried to stop laughing. Tension flowed into the floorboards. Another round of uncontrollable laughter weakened her legs until she stumbled.
“Don’t know what I’m going to do with you, kid.” Eric drew her over to the stool and leaned back against the workbench, still grinning.
“I will never let her live down the way she moved so fast through that door.” She sputtered for breath.
Eric guffawed, leaning forward in his own loss of control.
His hilarity puzzled her. She was only laughing because he was. And it was a relief beyond measure.
She pulled herself together and raised a brow in question.
“She sings her own lyrics to old tunes while she works.” The corner of Eric’s mouth twitched.
Moselle frowned and narrowed her eyes.
Then he became dead-pan serious. “We need to find a tune that means something to us.”
Eric lifted a long index finger and caressed her jaw line. Her facial muscles melted at the gentle touch.
Eric’s serious
, low musical voice sent a whisper of awareness through Moselle all the way from her neck to her toes.
He cupped her chin in his hand and supplied tune to lyrics on a sigh, staring deep into her soul.
Her muzzy mind registered shaky ground under foot instead of an identifiable melody or meaningful words.
But she was finally convinced enough to take a chance on renewing a relationship with Eric. This wasn’t high school.
And I’m a big girl, now.
Moselle’s Insurance
12
“Wait a minute.” Eric thought he’d heard wrong. “You’re going where for Bible study?”
He tossed the hammer from his right hand to his left in order to wipe the sweat from his palm onto his denim shorts.
“Mary and Cassie Jorgenson’s house, then we’ll rotate.”
Eric set the hammer on the sawhorse bench with a soft thud. He gave Moselle his full attention. “But why with Beth?”
“I feel like it’s what I’m supposed to do. The timing is right. Monday nights when we’re closed.” She raised a hand as if to lay it on his arm, but then lowered it. “I need it. I’ve been too focused on myself lately. Mom needs a break from the business. Aunt Lanae needs to be in the Word, even if she might be too tired to think straight. Or even attend.”
Moselle drew a breath and ruffled her bangs with the exhalation. “And besides, Beth is hungry for fellowship.”
Eric scrubbed a hand down his face. When he opened his eyes, he surveyed the frame of Moselle’s deck rather than look at her face. The framework tied into the plate between the first and second floors of the existing building. Header beams looked strong and new where they perched on the outside, with support beams running the long way. Before you knew it, the outside stairs would let her walk right into her loft.
He raised his gaze to the deep blue sky, squinted against the sun’s glare. Life could be so unpredictable. And sometimes way too many things felt beyond his control.
Only God could make a sky that color.
And only God could be writing this script.
Eric returned his focus to Moselle. “What can I say? If you think it’s what the Lord wants in your life, go for it. Don’t let me get in the way.”