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Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Page 25

by Molly Cannon


  Etta sat in Carlton Starling’s outer office bright and early Monday morning, waiting for him to arrive. They had an appointment to discuss her case and she’d arrived early. Julie, his receptionist, expected him any time. She’d had dinner at the Inn on Valentine’s Day with her husband Gene.

  “Etta, the dinner was simply wonderful. Gene is never going to be happy with my cooking again.”

  Etta laughed. “I hope that means we’ll see you again.”

  Julie smiled like a cat that had swallowed a canary. “Our anniversary is next month. I’m thinking about surprising Gene by booking a room for the whole weekend.”

  “Great. We’d love to have you. Give me a call when you decide.”

  Etta had to admit the weekend had gone off like a dream. All three couples raved about the food, the rooms, and the service. And they all planned to come back and recommend it to their friends. The Gordons even mentioned it as a possibility for their daughter’s wedding. Travel from Fort Worth would be an easy drive for all their friends and family.

  Thinking of weddings, maybe she should get Irene to have some business cards made and hand them out to guests. If she was serious about the wedding planner idea, that was. It was hard to tell. And Beulah and Daphne had been pleased as punch when the Mitchells bought one of Beulah’s quilts and two of Daphne’s stuffed dragons for their grandchildren. By all accounts the opening of the Hazelnut Inn had been a spectacular success.

  Mr. Starling hurried inside, taking his coat off and hanging it on a coatrack by the front door. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Etta. Come on inside my office. Julie, hold my calls.”

  His receptionist handed him a stack of messages. “Yes, sir. Will do.”

  He ushered her into his office and shut the door. “Please have a seat.”

  She thought he looked concerned, so she came right out and asked. “What’s wrong, Corbin?”

  He sat down behind his desk and looked at her grimly. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Etta steeled herself and prepared to receive the information head on. Bad news had become a way of life lately. “What kind of bad news?”

  “It’s about Finale’s.”

  She nodded. “I assumed as much.”

  “Initially Sandra Mann’s lawyer seemed open to further negotiations for a larger amount, but Friday he sent a certified letter stating the original offer was their final offer and included a check in that amount. Unless you want to go to court we’re out of options.”

  She took the check he handed her and looked at the amount. At least it was something. “I never held out much hope for more money. What I really wanted was to keep my restaurant.” The daily all-cap texts she’d gotten from Mimi complaining about the chaotic state of the restaurant had kept a sliver of irrational hope alive that this was all a terrible mistake, and that Diego would call begging for her to come home and save Finale’s. The check put all that wishful thinking to an end.

  “I’m sorry, Etta. I thought they’d play ball.”

  “So, what now?”

  “Sign this agreement, and take the check. That’s my advice.”

  “Starting over is going to be more challenging now. But okay. I never thought it would be easy. Where do I sign?”

  Mr. Starling opened a folder and pulled out some documents. He showed her where to sign and she scribbled her name on all the lines he pointed to with his pen. Then she stood up and held out her hand. “Thank you, Corbin. You’ve been a good friend.”

  She left his office and went out to the VW van and climbed inside, wondering what her next step should be. Her phone rang and she looked at the screen. It was Daphne’s school. Oh, heavens. What could they be calling about? In a panic she answered on the first ring. “Hello. Is Daphne okay?”

  “Hello, Miss Green. This is Mrs. Carney from Everson Elementary. And Daphne’s fine. But if you could come to the office, a matter has come up we need to discuss.”

  “With me?”

  “You are listed as her guardian, so you are the one we need to speak with.”

  “And you’re sure she’s okay?”

  “She’s fine.”

  She started the car while still talking. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  Donny Joe stood in front of Daphne’s class holding up two pink flamingos. “Now, these aren’t just any pink flamingos. They are practically legends around Everson.”

  A little boy in back held up his hand. “I know who they are. They were in our yard last year.”

  Donny Joe smiled. “Hi. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Will.”

  “Well, Will, you’re right. This is Peppy and this is Bizzy and every year the high school boosters use them to raise money for new band uniforms, or knee pads for the volleyball team.”

  “How can they raise money?” a little curly-headed girl asked shyly.

  “I’ll explain. Say your big sister plays on the high school softball team and they need new gloves. The team will come to my store and borrow Peppy and Bizzy and put them in someone’s front yard and then they leave a note that says for a donation of a certain amount of money the team will come and take the flamingos away.”

  “Why don’t they just ring the doorbell and ask for money?”

  “They could, but after all these years it’s become a kind of game. And people consider it an honor to wake up and find these pink birds in their front yard.”

  “That’s really cool, Mr. Ledbetter.”

  “Yeah, I hope they show up in my yard again this year,” Will said.

  The kids crowded around to get a better look at the plastic flamingos. Daphne was smiling, clearly pleased with his presentation. That was a relief. He didn’t know how he’d compare to the fireman and the pizza parlor owner that had spoken to the class before he did.

  A knock on the classroom door got Miss Lumpkins’s attention. She spoke quietly with the person at the door and then turned to face the class with a serious expression on her face. “Mr. Ledbetter and Miss Green, you are needed in the principal’s office. Daphne, Rose, Sawla, and Sheila. You four girls need to go with them.”

  Donny Joe looked over at Belle, who’d been sitting in the back of the class. She gathered her purse and joined him at the front of the room. “What’s this about? Daphne? Do you know?”

  Daphne got up slowly from her desk. Her eyes were wide and she looked scared. They walked out into the hallway, and Donny Joe made a point of letting the other three girls join them before they started the long painful walk to the principal’s office. No matter how old he got that walk would never be a pleasant experience.

  When they reached the office the receptionist Mrs. Collins told the girls to take a seat in the outer office. They sat down in the chairs lining the wall. She asked Belle and Donny Joe to follow her to the principal’s office. Donny Joe glanced back at the girls, who were busily whispering among themselves.

  Mrs. Collins opened the door and ushered them inside. He was surprised to see Etta already standing inside the office. The expression on her face as they entered was serious.

  The principal stood behind her desk. “Good. You’re all here now. Everyone have a seat. I’ve called all the other girls’ parents to join us, but because this is primarily about Daphne, I think we should talk before they get here.”

  Donny Joe let Etta and Belle have the chairs in front of the desk, and he pulled up a folding chair, setting it beside Etta. He couldn’t imagine what this meeting was about or why he needed to be there.

  Mrs. Carney sat down behind her desk. “Before we proceed I would like to ask why you are here at the school today, Mr. Ledbetter.”

  “Daphne invited me to come for ‘Take Your Father to School Day.’ ”

  “So, you are Daphne’s father?”

  Startled by the question he hesitated. He felt Etta turn to stare at him. He gathered himself and said, “No, I’m not. She invited me as a family friend. She doesn’t know her father.”r />
  Mrs. Carney looked at Belle. “Is that true?”

  The usually unflappable Belle squirmed in her chair. “I’ve never shared that information with my daughter, but I don’t see how this is any of your business.”

  “Ordinarily, I would agree with you, but it seems Daphne and those three girls outside have taken the matter into their own hands.”

  Belle sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

  “They’ve started a betting pool.”

  Etta had been quiet long enough. “A betting pool? I don’t understand.”

  “They compiled a list of likely father candidates, and the other kids in their class are placing bets on who he’ll turn out to be.”

  “That’s crazy. Why would she do this?” Belle stood up and began pacing. “And how exactly did they plan to determine the winner?”

  Etta stood up, too. “That’s obvious. She’s going to demand that you tell her the truth, Belle. I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t a way to force your hand.”

  Donny Joe spoke to the principal. “Are you saying my name is on that list?”

  “Yes. Right now it seems you’re holding at fifteen-to-one odds, Mr. Ledbetter. Mr. Johnson, who owns the toy store, is leading the pack.”

  “Old Mr. Johnson?” Etta asked. “He’s twice your age, Belle.”

  Mrs. Carney said, “I think the appeal was that he owns a toy store. I mean really. How cool would it be if your father turned out to own a toy store?”

  Belle snatched the list off the desk. “I don’t even know half these men.”

  “Regardless, the children were spreading rumors and speculation about them. I don’t think it was malicious—they are only eight and barely know what any of this means. But some of these men are married with families. Innocent people could inadvertently get hurt.”

  “So, what happens now?” Belle asked. She was clearly shaken.

  “We wait for the other parents to get here. I think the girls each need to write letters of apology to everyone on the list. And they need to serve afternoon detention for the next two weeks. As for how you handle this at home, Miss Green, that’s up to you.”

  The other parents arrived and were told of the situation. They expressed a mixture of disappointment, amusement, and outrage at the situation, but they all seemed to think Daphne was mostly responsible for leading their angels astray.

  When the meeting broke up and the other parents had departed, Belle said, “I’d like to take Daphne home for the rest of the day. We need to have a really important talk.”

  Mrs. Carney stood and walked around her desk. “I agree. And if there is anything the school can do to make this easier for Daphne, please let me know. She’s a good kid, and we are glad to have her here.”

  Belle looked like she might cry, and Etta looked like she might join her. Donny Joe felt about as helpless as a man eating soup with a two-tined fork. He had no idea how he could help, but he shook Mrs. Carney’s hand and followed the women out of the office. They gathered Daphne without a word and left the school building.

  Etta handed Belle the keys to the VW van and turned to Donny Joe. “Can you give me a ride home? I thought they could use the time alone.”

  “Sure.” He opened the passenger door for her and loped around to the driver’s side. He started the engine and took off toward the Inn. “Wow, it’s been quite a morning.”

  “I’ll say. I’d just left Mr. Starling’s office when the school called.”

  “Oh? So, is anything settled about the restaurant?”

  She sighed. “It’s settled. I signed the papers and took the money they offered. It’s not much, but at least I can move on now. Close that chapter and start over somewhere else.”

  Etta’s words hit Donny Joe like a heavyweight punch to the gut. Here it was. The reality that he’d tried to ignore all along. Sometime soon Etta would be leaving Everson, leaving the Inn, and leaving him, too. The enormity of his reaction caught him off guard. His easy going manner of taking things in stride was nowhere to be found now that he needed it most. Panic swept through him, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was all he could do not to slam on the brakes, grab her, and beg her to stay. Instead he smiled and said, “Well then, I guess we better start looking for a cook again.”

  The weather outside was frightful. February in North Texas had been unseasonably cold. Some years a heavy coat proved to be completely unnecessary. But this year light snow had teased the area off and on for days. Today the snow was falling in earnest. Big, fat, fluffy flakes fell from the sky and covered the ground. Etta wondered idly if it would delay construction on the swimming pool. That should start next week. She shivered, looking out the back window and watching the white stuff stick to pathways leading out of the yard. Down one path the Airstream trailer set, ready for its first occupants. And the railroad car was being delivered soon. Just beyond the trees she could see the wedding pavilion. It was only halfway completed, but the wooden frame stood starkly against the sky, representing the Inn’s future.

  Behind her, Belle was telling Daphne to sit down. Daphne obeyed without arguing. Her niece had been quiet since they’d left the school. No one had to tell her she was in a lot of trouble, but Etta had sensed a defiant streak in Daphne’s attitude. Good. She wasn’t going to let Belle saddle her with all the responsibility for this fiasco.

  Etta’s emotions were tangled up like a plate of cooked spaghetti. None of this would have happened if Belle had handled this sooner. But Etta couldn’t help wonder if some of the blame didn’t fall on her own shoulders. Maybe she should have done more the first time Daphne mentioned finding her father. If she had, things might not have gone this far.

  Donny Joe paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’d invited him to come inside after he drove her home. Seeing that his name was on the betting pool list he was entitled to some kind of an explanation. She could certainly understand why Daphne might hope he was her father. The bond they’d forged in such a short time was extraordinary. And in so many ways he was already like part of the family.

  Noah and Beulah came in, laughing and chattering from the back of the house. “Oh Lordy, we got all those pots moved to the garage just in time. The weather is getting nasty.” Beulah looked around, realizing something was wrong. “What’s everyone doing here? Daphne, sweetheart? Did the school let out early because of the snow?”

  Belle let out a deep breath and faced everyone. “No, it’s not the snow, Beulah. There was a problem at school, so since you are all here, why don’t you all sit down. Now is probably a good time to clear the air.”

  Daphne lifted her chin and came right out with her question. “So, are you finally going to tell me who my father is, Mama?”

  Beulah looked concerned. “What in the world is she talking about, Etta?”

  Etta led Beulah to a chair. “It will be okay, Beulah.” Noah sat down in the chair beside her and reached for her hand.

  Belle faced her daughter. “I’m sorry, Daphne. I know this is all my fault.”

  Etta was glad to see that Belle was willing to take responsibility for the situation.

  Donny Joe stood by the doorway, a solemn figure, and the look he gave Etta seemed to ask for something. She wasn’t sure if it was forgiveness or understanding. She looked away.

  Belle smiled at Daphne and started talking. “Before you were born Aunt Etta and I used to spend our summers with Grammy Hazel right here in Everson. And that last summer I met a very nice young man. He was nice and smart and charming. But at the end of the summer I went back to college and he went back to his life here in Everson. You have to understand he wasn’t part of my life by the time I found out I was going to have a baby.”

  Etta realized she was holding her breath. So far Belle hadn’t shared anything new.

  Belle sat down beside her daughter and took her hand. “You look so much like him. You know?” She ran a hand over Daphne’s hair. “With your blonde hair and green eyes.”

 
Daphne stood up. “I look like my dad?”

  Belle nodded. “The spitting image.”

  Daphne glanced over at Donny Joe. “Mama, is Donny Joe my father?”

  Noah Nelson stood up and touched Belle on the arm. “It’s time for the truth.” His voice was shaking. “I’ve been quiet long enough.”

  Belle pulled away, looking frightened by his intensity. Etta asked, “What’s he talking about, Belle?”

  Noah Nelson didn’t seem like a quiet old man any more. His voice suddenly rang out with authority. “Tell them, Belle, or I will.”

  Belle paled and sat down. “So, you know? Oh dear. When did you find out?”

  “I found your letters after Peter died. I kept quiet because I didn’t think it was fair for Francis to find out about you and the baby.”

  Donny Joe straightened to his full height. “So, Peter really is Daphne’s father? I had my suspicions.”

  “I don’t understand. Who is Peter?” Daphne sounded upset and confused.

  Everyone started asking questions at once.

  Belle waved her arms and said, “If I can get a word in edgewise. Please, everyone sit down and hush. Peter Nelson was your father, Daphne. He died overseas while he was serving in the army. By the time I wrote to him he was married to another woman, but I thought he deserved to know. But then he was killed and keeping that information to myself seemed like the only fair thing to do.”

  Daphne stood and asked in a small voice, “My father’s dead?”

  Tears slipped down Belle’s cheeks as she pulled her daughter into her arms. “I’m afraid so, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

  Daphne let her head rest against her mother’s waist and held on tightly. “It’s okay, Mama. But I’m glad you told me now.”

  The truth of it trumpeted through Etta’s whole body. Relief, strong and unrepentant, washed over her like an ocean tide. And she was happy for Daphne. At last she knew the truth about her father, and hopefully Belle would answer all the questions she was bound to have about him.

 

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