She would be completely alone. Without her animals. Without Grandpa. Without Destry.
She collapsed on the floor in front of the closet and stared at Grandpa’s shoes, wiping her eyes and barely caring which ones to pack. Wile E came up beside her, sniffing a pair of old boots. Rosie pushed her away. “Shoo, silly coyote.” But Wile E stepped farther into the closet, sticking her nose into a cardboard box labeled Things that won’t fit in the desk. It was a box Rosie had looked through often to find note cards or school pictures, but she hadn’t touched it since Grandma died. Though she had no good reason to look in it now, she dragged it out of the closet.
She picked up a greeting card laying at the top of the box’s contents. Grandma had always kept a stash of greeting cards, mostly the sentimental type that was meant to provide encouragement. This card featured a path through a flowered meadow. Scripted words ran across the top of the picture “Do not go where the path may lead. Forge a new path.” She could almost hear her Grandma’s voice speaking the words.
Most people didn’t realize how much of a path-builder her grandmother had been. She had a way of planting thoughts in others’ minds, so they thought they came up with the idea in the first place. Over the years, Grandma had started the annual county fairs, inspired the library to buy new books, and helped Farrah’s hair salon overcome its rocky beginning. She never got the credit for leading the projects, but without her, they probably wouldn’t have happened at all. If only Rosie could have been more like her grandmother.
What was it Grandpa had said? You don’t have all the time in the world. He had intended those words for Destry, but Grandma would have said them to Rosie. And in that moment, Rosie knew exactly what her Grandmother would tell her to do. It was bolder than anything Rosie had ever done, and completely out of her comfort zone.
Hands trembling, she dug deeper into the box, rediscovering photographs from her childhood and youth. There were pictures from church picnics, Fourth of July parades, and Christmas parties. Here and there, she recognized the faces of her students from their younger years when Grandma worked as a kindergarten aide.
She stopped at a picture of a kindergarten-age Janessa in pigtails sitting on Grandma’s lap. Turning the picture over, she saw that Grandma had written on the back: “Janessa was my special helper after I sprained my ankle. She is an unusually sympathetic child.” Rosie read the words again and again, remembering the way Janessa had cheered for her at the town hall meeting. Maybe it hadn’t been a joke.
With her back aching, Rosie raised herself from the floor, staring at the picture. She had avoided Janessa for the past year and a half. It had only been a few months since Rosie had managed to look her in the eyes again. It wouldn’t be easy for the two of them to have a serious conversation. But she knew that talking to her could be the key to everything. It was one of the things her grandmother would do. And now was the perfect time to find Janessa alone—two o’clock on a Thursday afternoon.
For Rosie to accomplish all she planned, she had to hurry. It turned out, though, that it was easier than she thought to arrange things. Thanks to Tanner’s nagging, she had enough money to buy a plane ticket and pay the oldest McFerrin boy to take care of the ranch. After a few minutes on the computer and the phone, all she had to do was pack her suitcase and the rest of Grandpa’s things.
Driving into town, she pulled over to the side of the road twice to re-read the greeting card and the words on the back of the picture. She could do this. She could forge a new path.
La Cocina’s parking lot was empty. It was exactly what she wanted . . . and exactly what she didn’t want—the perfect opportunity to talk with Janessa. Rosie got out of her car and walked inside, waiting for someone to respond to the sound of the door opening. No one came. Wringing her hands, she wondered whether Janessa’s standing ovation could have been a sarcastic gesture. Even if it was, she had to try something before Destry moved. She needed all the people she could get on his side.
Taking the photograph of Janessa and her grandmother from her purse, she read the words on the back. Then she opened the restaurant’s front door again so the bell would sound once more.
Janessa came bouncing out the kitchen door, flashing her fake smile. “What can I get for you, Ms. Curtis?”
Rosie forced herself to look into Janessa’s eyes. “I wanted to talk to you . . . if you have time.”
Janessa blinked and tilted her head. “You want to talk . . . to me?”
Rosie bit the inside of her cheek. She tried to put a friendly note into her voice. “Do you mind sitting down with me for a minute?”
Janessa gazed out into the empty parking lot and then gestured toward a booth at the back. “As long as we don’t get any more customers.”
Rosie slid into the booth, placing the photograph in the middle of the table. “I found this in my grandmother’s closet this morning. I thought she would want you to have it.”
Janessa sat down and stared at it, covering her mouth with her hand. Her usual cheerful expression faded, and her face crumpled with grief. Had she been hiding this emotion all along, punishing herself underneath her happy façade?
Rosie turned the picture over so Janessa could read what Grandma had written on the back. “It’s time we both got on with our lives. That’s what she would want.”
Janessa traced the edge of the photograph with her fingers. “I think about her every day.” Her voice trembled. “I’m so sorry.”
Rosie couldn’t bring herself to respond with I forgive you. She swallowed. “I need your help.”
Janessa’s brows pinched together.
“Destry’s decided to sell his ranch,” Rosie explained. “He’s giving up on his plan to help former addicts.”
Janessa frowned, staring down at the photograph. “I guess it was just too good to be true—someone like him moving here and building a place like that.” It seemed her standing ovation the other night had been sincere. Maybe Grandma was right—Janessa was unusually sympathetic. “And I was hoping to get a job there.”
Rosie straightened in her seat. “It’s not too good to be true. And we’re going to make it happen.”
Janessa looked up, her eyes wide. “We?”
“I feel like you can help more than most people. You come from an influential family, and you talk to a lot of people here at the restaurant. Have you told your parents you want to work at Destry’s resort?”
“No.” Janessa squinted one eye. She probably had no idea how much the Moores ran this town.
“I think if they knew, they might help convince other people that it’s a good idea. Not that we’ll be able to convince everybody, but the more people we can get on our side, the better.”
Janessa scrunched her nose. “Maybe.” She stayed quiet for a minute, but then she began to nod her head. “That presentation Tanner gave at the meeting—that’s the type of thing we’ll need to do if we want to get people back on Destry’s side. We’ll need a Public Relations campaign. I learned about that kind of stuff in college.”
Rosie couldn’t help smiling. “Tell me what we need to run a Public Relations campaign.”
“For one thing, we’re going to need more people. Farrah and Mercedes will probably want to help. And maybe some of the kids at the school.” Janessa’s cheerleader voice had returned in all its exuberance. “We’ll talk to people one-on-one, write some articles for the newspaper, share positive stories about Destry online, maybe print up some pamphlets.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got a break in a few minutes. We can start to work on an article if you have time to stick around.”
Rosie didn’t want to squelch her enthusiasm. “I’d love to, Janessa, but I can’t today. I have to take some things to my grandpa in the nursing home and then I’m getting on a plane to Philadelphia.” She realized how inconsiderate she sounded—asking Janessa to help right before she left town.
Janessa only grinned. “Philadelphia? Isn’t that where Destry is right now?” It was obvious from th
e exaggerated pitch of her voice that she suspected Rosie might have a romantic motive.
Rosie found it impossible to keep from giggling. She was done hiding her feelings. “It is. I’m stopping there on my way to New York City to see the paintings I’m auctioning off. I won’t have a lot of time in Philadelphia, but I’ll see what I can do to find some positive stories about Destry while I’m there.”
Chapter 32
It took Destry longer to get his work done than he had anticipated. There were so many meetings and interruptions. At least fifteen different employees came into his office to gush about how much they had missed him. He knew it couldn’t all be genuine—people were rarely genuine with their bosses—and it made him homesick for a chat with old Mr. Curtis, who always spoke his mind.
Plus, he kept thinking of how sad Rosie had looked at the hospital. If any of those feelings had been for Destry’s sake, wouldn’t she have said something by now? She already knew how he felt. No, that sad look had more to do with her grandfather’s injury.
Today was the day the old man would move into the nursing home. He wondered how that had gone. Looking at his watch and calculating the time difference, he figured Rosie would be home now, feeding her animals. He could see her standing in the tall grass beside her barn, a stiff autumn breeze blowing through her hair. As soon as he had a minute, he would call her.
Of course, with this being his first day back, he never got a minute. He didn’t have the luxury of taking a taxi home from the office either. Since it was Halloween, his vice president claimed a taxi would take too long and gave him a ride instead.
It was a little after seven p.m. when he walked into his parents’ house to find Mercedes placing photos from old albums through a scanner. She waved and put a finger to her mouth. His mother lay asleep in her recliner. Never one to dress down around company, his mom wore a lavender sweater set with gray slacks. He promised himself that he would carve out some time this weekend to spend with her. The two of them hadn’t sat down to talk, face to face, since his brother’s death.
His father dozed in a matching recliner, a bowl of Halloween candy on his lap. As Destry plucked a candy bar from the bowl, he wondered how many trick-or-treaters would have come to his house in Lone Spur. No one had come begging treats at his parents’ house last year. The big bowl of candy was just his mother’s wishful thinking.
He sat down on the sofa next to Mercedes and watched as an old photo appeared on her laptop screen. In it, he and his dad were showing off a fish they had caught. “What are you doing?” he whispered to Mercedes.
“Gathering evidence.”
“What crime are you trying to convict me of, fishing without a license?”
She stifled a laugh, tilting her head toward his dozing mother. “Being a good guy. Janessa asked me to help her with your PR campaign.”
Janessa Moore was conducting a PR campaign? That didn’t sound good. Still, how could things get any worse than they already were for him back in Lone Spur? “I didn’t know I had a PR campaign.”
“Well, we just started it today.”
He pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his collar. “You and Janessa?”
“And some other people at home.”
It would be five p.m. in Lone Spur right now, about the time Rosie usually e-mailed him about his lesson plans for the week. He could see her sitting in her dining room, her laptop open on the table. There was no point in thinking of her though. She had rejected him, even after she broke up with Tanner.
Mercedes’s voice broke into his thoughts. “So who do you think we should interview?”
He’d obviously missed something she said. “Interview?”
“Long day at work, huh?” She stepped behind him to massage his shoulders.
He froze at her touch, checking to see whether his mom and dad were still asleep.
“You’ve got a huge knot here,” she said, kneading the area behind his neck. “Janessa wants me to get some videos. Your mom said you coached a little league baseball team a few years ago. You don’t happen to have any pictures or videos of the games?”
“I don’t remember any.” He doubted old videos could do much to change things in Lone Spur anyway. “I’m not going to let you spend your vacation doing some project for Janessa when you came here to see the sights. Did you get to go anywhere today?”
She nodded. “Your parents were so sweet. They took me to Independence Hall and Reading Terminal Market.” She bent to whisper in his ear. “But sightseeing wasn’t really my motivation for coming here.” Her voice turned sultry, even with his parents sleeping in the background. If he stayed here with her, she might do something that would give his parents the wrong impression.
He already had plans to take her out for a night on the town. “Have you eaten?” he asked, standing up from his chair.
She placed a hand on her hip. “Don’t tell me you haven’t! There’s leftover chicken pot pie in the fridge.”
He patted the tickets in his pocket, making sure they were still there. “Let me go change. I’ve got a surprise I’ll tell you about when I get back.”
He had walked down the hall and entered his room—his mom had put him in Cody’s old room—before he realized that Mercedes was following him. “You were quiet,” he said as she slid her hands up the sides of his dress shirt, a touch that should have set his nerves on fire. What was wrong with him? She was gorgeous, and he felt nothing. He bent to kiss her, but she wasn’t wearing her heels, and he had to bend over more than usual to compensate for the difference in their height. They bumped noses before their lips connected.
Destry looked around at Cody’s old futon sofa. It wasn’t high quality furniture—Cody had probably found it on the side of the road—but it would do. He sat on it, pulling her down to sit beside him. As he expected, the sofa swayed a bit.
She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pulled his face toward hers. “That’s better.”
Their lips met once again, and he pulled her closer—until the doorbell rang.
She hesitated. “Should we get that?”
“Kiss me first,” he said. “Then I’ll get the door.” He pulled her back in, trying to convince himself that she was the one he wanted, the woman he could spend the rest of his life with.
She started talking right as their lips touched. “I don’t want them to wake up your parents. I’m afraid I wore them out today.”
“Okay,” Destry said, standing up. He ran down the hall to the living room, grabbed the bowl of candy off his dad’s lap, opened the door, and dumped the entire bowl in the kid’s bag. “Happy Halloween!”
He shut the door and ran back to Mercedes. All he needed was a little more time to feel that zing of attraction. He dove down onto the futon, grabbing Mercedes at the same time. His weight must have been too much, though. The sofa creaked and wobbled, leaning to its right. Destry reached for the side arm, trying to steady it, but he was too late. It collapsed beneath them.
“Destry?” his mom’s voice called from down the hall. She sounded hoarse, testament to how much she had enjoyed talking with Mercedes. “Destry? Are you okay? I heard a crash.”
He lay on the floor with Mercedes giggling soundlessly on top of him. “I’m fine,” he called.
“We saved your dinner for you. I’ll put it in the microwave.”
“That sounds great,” he yelled, covering Mercedes’s ear with his hand.
Mercedes lifted herself onto her hands and knees. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she whispered.
He rolled to his side and nodded. “Are you?”
“I’ve never been better.” She stood up, surveying the broken furniture and shaking her head. “Do you think we can fix this?”
He lifted himself up onto his elbow. “I’ll figure something out.” It might be best if he just bought a replacement. He could pull the futon onto the floor for tonight.
Mercedes dusted herself off and then opened the door. “I’d better go help your mom in t
he kitchen. She’s a great cook. I’m learning so much from her.”
So much for the kiss. Destry changed out of his work clothes and into some jeans, making sure to transfer the tickets he had bought earlier to his pockets.
He ambled out to the kitchen, where his Mom and Dad sat at the table with Mercedes. A generous helping of chicken pot pie sat at his place, and his stomach growled at the sight.
“Dig in,” his dad instructed. “We said grace earlier.”
Destry obeyed, slipping a warm forkful into his mouth. The taste of rich cream and homemade goodness met his tongue. He had missed this.
“We had such a fun time today with Mercedes,” his mom said. “I’m so glad you two found each other.”
Destry nodded as he swallowed. “Me too.” He took another bite.
His mom reached across the table to pat Mercedes’s hand. “I was so surprised when he told me he was in love. He’s never said anything like that about the women he’s dated before, but now that I’ve met you, I can see why.”
Destry froze. What was his mom talking about? He had never told her he was in love with Mercedes. A grateful smile spread over Mercedes’s face as it dawned on him—his mom was remembering what he had said about Rosie. Not that he didn’t feel something for Mercedes that couldn’t grow into love. He had never wanted to love someone as much as he wanted to love her.
He hurried to chew the chunk of chicken before his mother could say anything else.
His dad chuckled. “I’ll say one thing for Destry, he knows how to get things done. When he said he was in love with a woman who was engaged, we expected it would take him a few more months to win you over.”
Destry reddened, remembering the phone call on the day he had taken Mr. Curtis to the cemetery, the day he kissed Rosie. That was when he had said he was in love with an engaged woman. He glanced into Mercedes’s wide, devastated eyes. What could he say to make her feel better?
Chemistry Lessons Page 26