by C. C. Coburn
She bumped into Becky and a young teenage boy on their way into Perkins. “Grace!” Becky said. “What are you looking so smug about?”
Grace held up the packages and stopped herself from blurting, “Step one accomplished in the seduction of Jack O’Malley,” and said instead, “Successful shopping trip for an outfit for tomorrow night’s dinner.” She glanced at the boy and held out her hand. “Hi, you must be Becky’s son. I’m Grace.”
The boy grinned, his freckles nearly joining up as he shook Grace’s hand. “Nick. Mom’s making me get clothes here. She thinks I’ve grown out of everything. I’d rather shop in Denver.” He rolled his eyes.
Laughing, Grace said, “When I was a kid, I used to feel exactly the same way about shopping here in town. Now, I’m more than happy with what I found.”
“What did you get?” Becky asked, trying to peek into the bags.
“You’ll see tomorrow,” Grace said, holding them away from her. “Meanwhile, I need a manicure. I have yet to meet your sisters-in-law and I don’t want them thinking I’m a slob.”
“Trust me, they won’t. Each of us had to learn that life in the mountains—especially life with the O’Malleys—isn’t about appearances, but about heart. And they’ve all got plenty of that.”
“Still...I’d feel better if my hands looked a little nicer.”
Becky smiled and said, “Then go and see Patty and tell her I sent you. Her salon is above the craft store. Anyway, I need to buy some new jeans for this son of mine or he’ll burst out of these standing here on the doorstep. I can’t believe how fast he’s growing!”
Being a pediatrician, Grace had heard that from mothers so many times. “Just be happy he’s growing and healthy, Becky. Trust me, he’ll slow down one day, although don’t expect that until he’s almost out of his teens.”
“He’s just turned thirteen!” Becky protested. “Maybe they sell jeans I can get taken down.” she muttered under her breath.
“Mom!”
“Oh, all right,” Becky said, “I was only trying to economize. See you tomorrow, Grace, if not before.” She waved as she stepped through the door Nick was holding open for her.
Smiling, Grace wandered down Main Street toward the manicurist Becky had recommended. She doubted she’d get an appointment this late in the day, but she could always sneak out tomorrow.
“Gracie Saunders!”
Grace spun around to see who’d called her, and her heart sank. Letitia Malone. She’d know that supercilious look anywhere. Lettie had been one of the girls who’d teased Grace about her hand-me-down clothes in high school. Grace had hoped she’d run into Letitia the day she’d arrived, driving a European sports car and wearing her Christian Louboutin pumps. Instead, here she was, dressed in dusty jeans and steel-toed boots.
“Letitia. You’re still living here?” she said in a voice meant to convey that Letitia hadn’t done much with her life if she still lived in the same town she grew up in.
“Yeah, I’m married with five kids. You?”
“Oh, I live in Boston now. I’m a pediatrician.”
Letitia smirked. “You’re a foot doctor?”
It took Grace a moment to realize what Lettie was talking about. “No. A pediatrician looks after kids,” she explained patiently. Lettie had never been the smartest girl in class. She made up for it by being the meanest.
“So, how old are your kids?” she asked.
“Thirteen, eleven, seven, four and two.” Lettie patted her stomach. “I’m pregnant again,” she crowed, clearly proud of her reproductive powers.
So Lettie had gotten pregnant right out of high school. “And your husband? Did you marry someone local?”
“’Course. Jamie Whitaker,” Lettie said smugly.
Jamie. The football jock. He’d been popular with the girls, but never particularly discriminating. He’d tried to hit on Grace once, but she’d just given him a look and walked away. It had been a mistake, because then he’d spread the rumor that she’d slept with him. The in crowd had believed Jamie, although no one else did. But it had hurt, and Jack had gotten into a fight with him. Jack had lost. Grace winced at the memory. It was one of the many unhappy incidents of her school life she’d endeavored to overcome. The fact that she was standing in the middle of Main Street reliving the experience was proof she hadn’t been entirely successful.
Wanting to get away from Lettie and the memories, she said, “I’m so glad it all worked out for you, Lettie. You and Jamie deserve each other. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment.” She turned away, hating her bitchy tone but nevertheless triumphant at the shock on Lettie’s face.
“Yeah, well, just make sure you keep away from him!” Lettie shouted to her back.
“That won’t be a problem,” Grace muttered under her breath. “Damn!” she said, angry that she hadn’t been dressed to the nines when she’d run into Lettie. It shouldn’t matter what some skank from her past thought of her, but Grace had wanted to show at least one of the girls who’d been so mean to her how successful she’d become.
Successful! Ha! What a joke. She had money and nice clothes and a prestigious career. But “Loosie Lettie” had the kids and the husband. Grace had no idea why that annoyed her so much. After all, who in her right mind would want to be married to Jamie Whitaker? And have his kids!
Flustered, Grace missed the manicurist’s shop and had to double back. She dreaded bumping into Lettie again. The woman had made her feel so uncomfortable that all Grace wanted to do was flee, get out of Spruce Lake and away from the bad memories.
“Hey! What’s biting your butt?”
Grace met Matt’s concerned eyes. “You okay, Grace? You look like you want to punch something,” he said.
Grace took several deep breaths, trying to compose herself. “Hi, Matt. I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I just ran headlong into my past and I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Care to discuss?”
“It’s only stupid teenage angst.”
Matt crossed his arms. “Which you’re apparently still dealing with.”
“You got that right,” she said, and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come here thinking I could...”
“Could what?”
Matt was too astute, which probably made him a good cop, but she was too wound up to talk.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I...need to go.”
“Why don’t we grab a soda?”
Grace knew Matt wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Shouldn’t you be out hunting down criminals?”
“If you told me who upset you, I could go hunt them down and arrest them.” He caught her elbow and steered Grace into the café they were standing in front of. Grace collapsed into a chair and Matt sat opposite her, resting his big arms on the table. The waitress arrived with two glasses of water. Matt ordered his diet soda, while Grace asked for a pot of herbal tea. Tea always helped calm her nerves.
“What’s the statute of limitations on bullying?” she asked Matt, half hoping it was twenty-five years.
Matt frowned. “Someone bullied you in the street?”
“No, it goes way back. To high school. I ran into someone who used to make my life a living hell.”
Matt nodded. “Lettie Malone.”
“How’d you guess?”
“She’s one of the few girls from that group who stayed in the district. She married that no-hope football jock, Jamie Whitaker. I know what he said about you, Grace, and it was so unfair. We all knew it was blatantly untrue. I remember Jack came home with a black eye and bloodied nose.”
Jack, her hero, had tried to protect her honor and had suffered for it.
“Being bullied at school can affect people for the rest of their lives,” Matt said. “If it’s any consolation, Jamie got his comeuppance. He got Lettie pregnant. Lettie’s father brought out the shotgun and they had a quickie wedding. That pretty much spelled the end of his football career.” Matt shook his head. “He had so much talent and threw it aw
ay. What an idiot.”
Grace was taken aback. She hadn’t expected Matt to be this critical of someone.
“Yet they’re still married,” Grace said.
“She tell you that?”
“Not in so many words. Did I get that wrong?”
“Jamie plays around. They keep separating but she keeps taking him back. Or forcing him to come back by getting pregnant to ‘save’ the marriage.”
Grace had no time for women who clung to men who cheated on them. Thank goodness Edward hadn’t been a cheat—just a controlling jerk. “How pathetic of her. I do feel sorry for the children, though.”
“Me, too. As expected, they’re turning out pretty much like their parents. The oldest boy’s been in court on shoplifting charges. The oldest girl is boy-crazy and headed for a teen pregnancy if she doesn’t smarten up.”
“Not much chance any of them will smarten up with parents like that.”
Matt smiled and said, “’Atta girl. Lettie and Jamie covered their stupidity in high school with bullying and lies. Unfortunately, intelligence has nothing to do with fertility.”
“Ain’t that the truth. In my practice—” Grace cut herself off, not wanting to talk about Boston or her career. And especially not about Lettie and Jamie and their kids.
“You were going to say?”
Grace waved his comment away. “Let’s talk about your family. A much nicer subject! Fill me in on who’s married to whom and what the children’s names are so I’m prepared tomorrow night.”
Matt spent the next fifteen minutes doing just that, sharing anecdotes and making Grace feel more at ease about meeting them all. Now they didn’t seem like such a horde of strangers. “I’ve met Nick already. He was going shopping with Becky,” she said.
Matt grinned. “She bemoans the way that kid’s growing, but secretly, I think she’s damned proud he is growing.”
“Something the matter with him?”
“You didn’t notice his limp?”
“No. We bumped into one another in the shop doorway. Why does he have a limp?”
“Cerebral palsy. His father ran out on them pretty soon after his birth. Becky raised him on her own and held her career together. She was so determined she could do it all, didn’t need another man in her life. And then she met my brother.”
“And they’ve lived happily ever after since,” Grace finished.
“Not quite as simple as that. Becky wasn’t easy to convince. Will had to pull out all the stops to show her they were meant to be together.”
Grace nodded. “Becky did mention that Will made Nick fall in love with him before she did.”
“Nick was a pushover. He was a great little guy and so starved for male attention. Will didn’t know he was Becky’s son for ages. Not until it was too late—for Becky. I must say, I learned true respect for my former ski bum of a brother because of the way he treated Nick. He taught him to swim and how to deal with bullies. That kid just blossomed under Will’s care.”
“If Will could convince Becky to marry him and make it work, it proves there’s someone out there for all of us.”
Grace looked up as a dark-haired man entered the café. He had a two-year-old girl perched on his hip and he seemed flustered. “That is Will, isn’t it?” she asked, suddenly unsure which O’Malley man she’d identified. But she was sure of one thing—he was definitely an O’Malley.
Matt turned in his seat and Grace saw the brothers notice each other at the same time. Will smiled at Grace and said to Matt, “You seen my wife?”
“And hello to you, too,” Matt said, taking the toddler from Will’s arms. She went happily and he kissed the top of her head, then settled her on his lap. “Will, you remember Grace Saunders, don’t you?”
“Sorry, yes. Hi, Grace. How are you managing with my brother?”
“Matt? He’s a peach.”
The little girl pulled at her ear and scowled.
“Matt? A peach?” He laughed and said, “That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one. No, I meant Jack. Becky said he makes you wear ugly clothes and cut your nails. Shocking. Just shocking.” He shook his head to add dramatic emphasis.
Grace laughed at his melodrama. “Yes, he has. And I saw Becky not more than twenty minutes ago going into Perkins Clothing and Boots.”
“She have Nick with her?”
“Yes.”
“Poor kid.”
“Poor kid?”
“Yeah, no teen would choose to buy clothes in a place that’s been an institution for thousands of years. Especially not with his mother. He wanted jeans from a chain store. Becky wanted quality. I was supposed to meet him and take him shopping in Silver Springs before Becky could get hold of him.”
The toddler started to cry and pulled her ear some more.
“How long has your little girl been doing that?” Grace asked.
“All day. She hasn’t cried until now,” he said, retrieving his daughter from Matt and patting her back to comfort her.
Grace felt the child’s forehead. It was warm and sweaty, and the little girl didn’t look happy at all. “Has she had a cold or runny nose lately?”
“How did you know?”
“She probably has an ear infection. I think you should go to the local doctor and have her checked out.”
“I’m not taking her to Doc Jenkins! He should’ve retired years ago. I’ll run her down to the hospital in the morning. Lucy Cochrane can take a look at her.”
“By tomorrow she might have—”
“Might have what?”
Grace, Will and Matt hadn’t noticed that Becky and Nick had entered the café.
Will told his wife, “Grace figures Lily’s got an ear infection and I should get her to a doctor immediately.”
“Not that fool Jenkins!” Becky said, reiterating what half the O’Malleys seemed to think of the town’s doctor.
“I’ll take Lily to the hospital right away,” Will said, cradling his now-fractious daughter.
“There’s no need to upset her with a long drive to the hospital. I can take a look at her if you like and prescribe something,” Grace offered.
“Please!” Becky almost cried.
Grace was surprised by the panic in Becky’s voice, but given that Nick, with his cerebral palsy, probably didn’t always enjoy good health, it was understandable.
Grace moved over so Will could sit beside her in the booth. “Do you have a flashlight, Matt?” she asked.
He produced a small but powerful model and Grace cooed at Lily to settle her, then looked in her ear.
“Hoo, boy, that is one red eardrum. You’re a brave little girl, Lily, for not making much of a fuss about it until now,” she told the child with a smile, trying to ease any discomfort caused by a strange woman looking in her ear. Grace distracted Lily further by letting her play with the still-lit flashlight as she felt the glands in the child’s neck.
“She needs acetaminophen and antibiotics. I don’t have a prescription pad, but I’m happy to come to the pharmacy with you to get those before the infection turns really nasty.”
“Thank you,” Will said. “I feel terrible that I didn’t do anything about it earlier. I thought she’d discovered her ear and decided it was something she wanted to play with.”
“Perfectly reasonable,” Grace said. “We’ll have you back to your old self in no time, won’t we, sweetie?” she asked Lily, then handed her to her father.
“Why don’t you and I take Lily to the pharmacy, Grace,” Becky suggested. “And Will can take Nicolas shopping for jeans in Silver Springs.” She glowered at Nick, who glowered back. “Our son has turned into an argumentative teenager,” she told her husband. “He absolutely refused to try on the jeans I’d picked out for him at Perkins.”
Will slid out of the booth, allowing Grace to follow. Matt plunked a twenty on the table and said, “You want me to come, too? I could put on my lights and siren.”
“Very funny,” Becky said, and bustled out of the café, G
race on her heels, leaving the men to deal with the defiant teenager.
* * *
FRIDAY EVENING, GRACE washed and blow-dried her hair, then took a ridiculous amount of time with her makeup—ridiculous because she was trying for a natural look and that always seemed to take twice as long.
She was standing at the bathroom mirror, dressed only in the longer of her new denim skirts and her bra, when the doorbell rang.
“Coming!” she cried as she hurried into the bedroom and pulled on a camisole. Grabbing the red-and-white-checked shirt she’d chosen, Grace raced toward the front door. Except she collided with Jack’s broad chest.
“Whoa!” He caught her arms to stop her from falling backward. “Where are you going in such a rush?”
“To answer the door. The door you’re supposed to be waiting on the other side of.”
“You said, ‘Come in.’”
“No. I said, ‘Coming!’”
Jack shrugged and blatantly studied her outfit. His scrutiny made her face warm—followed by the rest of her body as his gaze fell to her bare legs. “Door was unlocked. Sorry.”
“Damn!” Grace said as she slipped on sandals. “Mrs. C. told me to be careful of the door. It comes off its latch, then won’t lock.”
Jack strode to the door, inspected it and said, “I’ll be back in a second.”
Grace used the time to finish putting on her lipstick and checking herself in the mirror. Deciding that Jack hadn’t reacted quite enough to the skirt, she changed into the shorter one. Grace wanted his gaze lingering on her legs. She then buttoned the shirt that was just a little too snug and went back into the living room to find Jack on his knees, working on her door lock. She walked right up to him, so his eyes were level with the hem of her skirt, and said, “Everything okay?”