“Business is picking up, huh?”
Sinda nodded. “It would seem so, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping me here two or three afternoons a week.”
“I thought I was helping.”
“You are. I had a more permanent arrangement in mind,” Sinda said. “Of course, I would pay you.”
Tara frowned. “I don’t like working with dolls. I’d much rather be watching TV or doin’ some detective work.”
“I really could use your help.”
The child shook her head. “Not interested.”
It was obvious that little Miss Olsen was not going to budge.
❧
“You’re taking Sinda Shull where?” Tara shouted from across the room.
Glen was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of savory stew, but he turned to face his daughter. “I’m taking Sinda out to dinner, and I’ve arranged for you to stay overnight at Penny’s.”
Tara scowled at him. “This was Sinda’s idea, wasn’t it?”
“No, it was not her idea. I asked Sinda out when I took a loaf of gingerbread over there earlier today.”
“What time was that?”
“Around four-thirty.”
Tara tapped her toe against the linoleum. “I was over there then, and she never told me you stopped by. She didn’t say she was going on a date with you either.”
Glen turned back to the stove and started humming his favorite hymn, “Amazing Grace.”
“Dad, why are you doing this?”
He kept on humming and stirring the stew.
Tara marched across the room and stopped next to the stove. “Why are you doing this?”
He winked at her. “Doing what?”
She grabbed his hand and gave it a shake. “Dad!”
He pushed her hand away. “Watch out, Tara. You’re gonna fool around and get burned.”
Tara took a step back, and she stared up at him accusingly. “Why did you invite Sinda to dinner?”
He smiled. “Because, it was the neighborly—”
“Thing to do,” she said, finishing his sentence. “It’s those green eyes of hers, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll bet she’s got you hypnotized. I saw it happen on a TV show once.” Waving her hand in a crisscross motion, Tara said, “She zapped you senseless and put you under some kind of a spell.”
Glen looked upward. “Oh, Lord, please give me the wisdom of Solomon.” He wondered if he should lecture Tara about watching too much TV again, or would it be better to give her a Bible verse to memorize? After a few seconds’ deliberation, he chose a different approach. “You’re absolutely right, Kiddo. Sinda hypnotized me this afternoon. In fact, she put me so far under that I actually thought I was a dog.”
“Dad, be serious! Sinda may not be buying and selling kids, but I don’t trust her. I still think she’s up to something.”
“I would advise you to avoid detective work, Miss Olsen,” he threatened. “Your last mistake got you thirty days of no TV and apprentice work in Sinda’s Doll Hospital, remember?”
Tara’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m too old to play with dolls, and Sinda’s house is creepy and full of weird noises.” She stomped her foot. “There’s no way I’d keep working for her after my thirty days are up.”
“She asked you to? What’d you tell her?” Glen asked with interest. If Tara kept working for their new neighbor, he might get to see Sinda more often. Besides, it would be a good way for Tara to learn about responsibility.
“I said no.” Tara shrugged. “She offered to pay me, but I’m not going to spend my free time sanding and painting a bunch of old dolls!” She scrunched up her nose. “I’m going to discover Sinda’s secrets, then we’ll see who has the last laugh.”
Glen chuckled. “We sure will, and it will probably be me.”
Eight
“Tara, it’s time to go!” Glen called from the hallway outside his daughter’s open bedroom door.
Tara slammed her suitcase lid shut when Glen stepped into the room.
“Would you like me to walk you over to Penny’s?”
Tara shook her head. “I’m not a baby, Dad. You can just watch me walk across the street to Penny’s if it makes you feel better.”
Glen ran his fingers through his freshly combed hair. He thought the offer to walk with her might ease some of the tension between them. Ever since he’d told Tara about his date with Sinda, she’d been irritable. He straightened his tie and smoothed the lapel on his gray sport coat. “Do I look okay? I’m not overdressed, am I?”
“I guess it all depends on where you’re goin’,” Tara answered curtly. She sauntered out of the room, leaving her suitcase sitting on the floor.
Glen frowned but picked up the suitcase and followed. “I made reservations at the Silver Moon,” he called after her.
Tara made no comment until she reached the bottom step. Then she turned and glared up at him. “I don’t think you should go to the Silver Moon.”
“Why not?”
“That place is too expensive!”
He smiled in response. “I’m sure I can scrape together enough money to pay for two dinners.”
“How do you even know Sinda likes Chinese food?”
“She said so. What’s this sudden concern about restaurant prices?” Glen exhaled a puff of frustration. He was not in the mood for this conversation.
She shrugged.
Glen bent down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll watch you cross the street.” He paused a moment. “Oh, and Tara?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“You’d better behave yourself tonight.”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t I always?”
Glen knew it was time to get tough. He couldn’t let Tara continue behaving like a spoiled, sassy brat. No matter how much he loved her or how sorry he was that she’d grown up without her mother, he had to remain firm. “I’m serious. You’re already on restrictions, and if you pull anything funny at Penny’s, I’ll add another thirty days to your punishment.”
Tara picked up her suitcase and marched out the front door. “Be careful tonight,” she called. “Whatever you do, don’t look directly into Sinda’s weird green eyes!”
❧
Sinda paced between the fireplace and the grandfather clock. Glen wasn’t late yet, but she almost hoped he would be. It would give her a few more minutes to compose herself. It had been almost three years since her last date, and that one had ended badly. She could still see the look on Todd Abernathy’s face when her father gave him the third degree before they left for the theater. Even worse was when Todd brought her home and was about to kiss her good night. They’d been standing on the front porch, but the light wasn’t on, so Sinda figured her father had gone to bed. She found out otherwise when he snapped on the porch light, jerked open the front door, and hollered, “You’re late! I can’t trust you on anything, can I?” His face was a mask of anger. “You’re just like your mother, you know that?” It was the last time Todd ever came around.
Swallowing the pain, Sinda drove the unpleasant memories to the back of her mind and peered into the hallway mirror. Dad wouldn’t be waiting for her tonight. If she embarrassed herself in front of Glen Olsen, it would be her own doing.
“I hope I look all right,” she murmured as she studied her reflection. She’d chosen a rust-colored, full-length dress to wear and left her hair hanging long, pulled away from her face with a large beaded barrette at the nape of her neck. She didn’t know what had possessed her to agree to this date, but she had, so there was no backing out now. When a knock at the front door sounded, her heart fluttered like a frightened baby bird. She drew in a deep breath as she moved to the hallway and reached for the doorknob.
Glen stood on the porch, dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white shirt with black pinstripes, and a gray jacket. He was smiling from ear to ear and holding a bouquet of pink and white carnations.
&nbs
p; Sinda tried to smile but failed. Except for the corsage Dad had given her when she graduated from high school, no one had ever given her flowers before.
A crease formed between his brows. “You’re not allergic to flowers, I hope.”
“No, no, they’re lovely. Let me put them in some water, then I’ll be ready to go.” Her voice was strained as his gaze probed hers. How could this man’s presence affect her so?
Sinda left Glen waiting in the living room while she went to the kitchen to get a vase. When she returned a few minutes later, she found him with his hands stuffed inside his jacket pockets, strolling around the room. He seemed to be studying every nook and cranny. Sinda knew the wallpaper was peeling badly, the dark painted woodwork was chipped in several places, and the plastered ceiling needed to be patched and repainted. And this was just one room! The rest of the house was equally in need of repairs.
“The place is a mess,” she said, placing the bouquet on a small antique table near her colonial-style couch.
Glen nodded and blew out his breath. “I’ll bet nothing has been done to this old house in years.”
Sinda shrugged. She didn’t want to spoil the evening by talking about her albatross. “I’m ready to go if you are.”
❧
The Silver Moon restaurant was bustling with activity, but since Glen had made reservations, they were immediately ushered to a table. Like a true gentleman, Glen pulled out a chair for Sinda, then took the seat directly across from her.
She shifted uneasily, unsure of what to say, but was relieved when their waiter came and handed them each a menu. At least it gave her something to do with her hands.
“I’ll think we’ll have a plate of barbecued pork as an appetizer,” Glen told the young man. He gestured toward Sinda. “Does that appeal to you?”
She licked her lips and struggled with words that wouldn’t be a lie. At the moment, nothing appealed. I probably shouldn’t have accepted Glen’s dinner invitation, she silently berated herself. She was attracted to the man, and that worried her a lot. “Barbecued pork will be fine,” she said with a nod.
When the waiter left, Glen leaned forward and smiled. “You look beautiful tonight.”
Heat crept up Sinda’s neck and flooded her face. “Thanks. You look nice too.”
“Tell me, Doctor Shull, how’s that daughter of mine doing in your doll hospital? Is Tara any help at all, or does she get in the way?”
Sinda smiled, and the tension in her neck muscles eased as she began to relax. “I don’t think she likes the work, but she has been a big help. I even offered to pay her if she’d keep working for me a few afternoons a week.”
Glen’s blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “Tara told me.”
Sinda laughed dryly. “She hated the idea and turned me down flat.”
The waiter returned with a plate of barbecued pork surrounded by sesame seeds and a small dish of hot mustard.
Glen placed their dinner order, and as soon as the waiter left, he prayed his thanks for the food. Reaching for his glass of water, he said, “I have a proposition for you, Sinda.”
“Oh?” She placed one hand against her stomach, hoping to calm the butterflies that seemed determined to tap dance the night away, and forced her ragged breathing to return to normal.
“It’s a business proposition,” he said in a serious tone.
A business proposition. Now that might be something to consider. “What kind of business proposition?”
“It’s about doll repairing.”
“You want to become a doll doctor?”
Glen had just popped a piece of pork into his mouth. He swallowed, coughed, and grabbed for his water again. “Too much mustard,” he sputtered.
Sinda bit back a smile. “That’s why I prefer ketchup.”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t make much of a doll doctor,” Glen said after his fit of coughing subsided.
“Why not? I’ve read about some men who repair dolls in one of my doll magazines.”
He nodded. “I’m sure that’s true, but it isn’t what I had in mind.”
“What then?”
“Tara’s mother had an old doll that belonged to her grandmother. The doll’s been in a box under my bed for years. Tara doesn’t even know about it.”
“It could be quite valuable.”
“I don’t know about that, but it does need fixing. When Tara was born, Connie was so excited about having a little girl. She was sure she’d be able to pass the old doll down to our daughter someday.” Glen’s face was pinched with obvious pain. “Of course that never happened. Connie died a year later.”
“It’s not too late. You can still give Tara the doll her mother wanted her to have,” Sinda said softly.
“I never gave it to her before because I didn’t know where to take it for repairs.”
“And now you do,” she said with a smile. “So, what’s the proposition you had in mind?”
Glen took a sip of his hot tea before answering. “The doll’s a mess, and I’m sure it’ll be expensive to fix.” He massaged the bridge of his nose and grimaced. “I’m not even sure it’s worth fixing—especially since my daughter isn’t too thrilled about dolls these days.”
“I’m certain that once Tara finds out it was her mother’s, she’ll be glad to have it.”
“I was thinking maybe we could trade services in payment.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What service might you have to offer me?”
He grinned. “Your place could use a few repairs and some fresh paint. I’m pretty handy with a paintbrush. My carpentry skills aren’t half bad either.”
It only took Sinda a few seconds to think about his offer. Except for some new kitchen curtains Carol had helped her make, she hadn’t done much in the way of fixing up the old place. “I do need some work done.” She drew in a deep breath and expelled it quickly. “Without seeing the doll and assessing an estimate to restore it, I can’t be sure our trade would be a fair one.”
“I’m sure you can find enough work for me to do, should the cost be too high.”
Sinda suppressed a giggle. “I didn’t mean the price of the doll repairs would be too high. I meant the amount of work I need to have done far exceeds anything I could ever do for one antique doll.”
Glen eyed her curiously. “I’m not concerned about balancing it out. If I come up short on the deal, maybe you can even things out a bit by agreeing to cook me dinner sometime.”
Sinda reached for a piece of pork. What was there about Glen that made her feel so comfortable? Did she dare allow herself to begin a relationship with him—even a working one? She popped the meat into her mouth, wiped her fingers on her napkin, and extended her hand across the table. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
He looked pleased. At least she thought it was a look of pleasure she saw on his face. Maybe he had indigestion and was merely trying to be polite.
Nine
“Thanks for the nice evening, Glen. I ate so much I probably won’t need to eat again all weekend.” Sinda leaned her head against the vinyl headrest in the front seat of Glen’s station wagon and sighed deeply.
“It doesn’t have to end yet,” he said, a promising gleam in his eyes. “We could take a drive out to Elmwood Lake. It’s beautiful there in the spring.”
With only a slight hesitation, she gave her consent. What am I doing? an inner voice warned. I should really go home.
Glen turned on the radio and slipped a cassette into place. The rich, melodious strains of a Christian gospel singer poured from the speakers. “This song, about our soul finding rest, is one of my favorites,” he commented.
Sinda closed her eyes and let the music wash over her like a gentle waterfall. It had been so long since she’d listened to any kind of Christian music, and the tape had such a calming effect. “Umm. . .I do enjoy this type of music.”
By the time the song ended, Glen had pulled into the parking lot. “We still have a hint of daylight. Want to take a walk arou
nd the lake?”
“That sounds nice. I need to work off some of my dinner,” Sinda said with a nervous laugh. I really should be home in bed. . .or working on a doll. . .any place but here.
“It’s getting kind of chilly,” Glen remarked. “Want to wear my jacket?”
She shook her head. “No thanks, I’m fine.”
They walked along quietly for awhile, then Glen broke the silence. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to church on Sunday with me and Tara.”
Sinda’s shoulders sagged, and she shook her head. “Thanks for asking, but I’d better not.”
“Have you already found a church home?”
She stopped walking and turned to face him. “What makes you think I’m a churchgoer?”
He studied her intently for a few seconds. “I—uh—saw an old Bible on your coffee table, so I just assumed—”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
He drew back, as though she’d offended him, and she started walking again, a little faster this time.
“You’re upset about something, aren’t you?” Glen asked when he caught up to her.
A curt nod was all she could manage.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Unexpected tears spilled over, and she blinked several times trying to dispel them.
Suddenly, Sinda’s steps were halted as Glen drew her into his arms. “Are you angry with me?”
“No,” she muttered against his jacket. She couldn’t tell him what was really bothering her.
He pulled slightly away and lifted her chin with his thumb. “It might help to talk about it.”
She sniffed deeply and took a step back. “I’d rather not.”
“Maybe some other time.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Then, as if the topic of church had never been mentioned, Glen changed the subject. “So, when would you like to begin?”
She blinked. “Begin?”
“On your house repairs?”
“Oh. I guess you can start whenever it’s convenient. When can I take a look at the doll?”
“Whenever it’s convenient,” he said with a deep chuckle. “How about tonight? Tara’s staying over at her friend Penny’s, so it would be the perfect time to show you.”
Neighborly Thing Page 6