A Word with the Bachelor

by Teresa Southwick

  “Isn’t this place cute?” she said.

  “Not the word I would use.”

  By the spacious entrance Erin pointed out half barrels overflowing with flowers. An old wood-and-tin washboard propped up against the outside wall. A piece of wooden ladder because everyone knew you couldn’t have too many half ladders that were completely useless.

  “Looks like junk to me.”

  “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

  He looked down at the high color on her cheeks, the excitement in her eyes that made her beautiful. The feeling was like a sucker punch. “Don’t you ever get tired of being an optimist?”

  She shook her head. “Did you know that it takes more muscles to frown than to smile? You should try it sometime.”

  He’d done more of that since she showed up than he could ever remember doing in his whole life. But that information was best kept to himself.

  They walked inside and let their eyes adjust to the dimness before glancing around. In his opinion it looked like a hoarder’s garage exploded in here. There were mismatched dishes, suitcases, wall hangings, old bottles, a trunk, furniture. And dust. A whole lot of it.

  “This is going to be so much fun.”

  Jack studied the bright smile of anticipation on her face and decided they should make her president in charge of the Sunshine Fund. He wanted to put on the shades he’d just slid to the top of his head. “Does your cell phone have a GPS tracker?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. Why?”

  “If we get separated, I’ll send in search-and-rescue.”

  “Very funny.” She tsked. “Come on.”

  After moving down a center aisle, where they passed lamps, old toys and more ancient furniture, they found an older woman, somewhere in her late fifties or early sixties, he figured. She was still attractive and had short blond hair and brown eyes. In jeans and a thrift-store T-shirt, she was trim and friendly-looking.

  “Erin.” The woman’s smile was warm. “Nice to see you.”

  “Hi, Aggie.” She looked up at him. “Jack, this is Brewster’s wife, Aggie.”

  “Ma’am.” He shook the hand she held out and wondered how Erin knew her when he didn’t.

  As if she could read his mind, Erin said, “Aggie stops by the marina to drop off Brew’s lunch when he forgets it.”

  “Which is pretty often,” the other woman added.

  “When she’s there, Jack, you’re mostly in hunker-down mode. Or being a hermit. Or both,” Erin commented.

  That sounded an awful lot like a challenge. She’d told him talking to people was fun and he should try it sometime. Now was his chance. He could be friendly and charming. It had happened once or twice before.

  “It’s nice to meet Brewster’s better half. And it has to be said...he’s a very lucky man.”

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Garner.”

  “Call me Jack.” He smiled, just to show Erin he knew how.

  “All right. Jack.” She looked from Erin to him. “So, what brings you out of your cave today?”

  The downside of a charm offensive was you had to be sociable and that meant chatting. He caught the expression in Erin’s green eyes that dared him to keep this up. So, he would show her.

  “As my assistant would tell you, I should be working, but I took time off to talk to Mrs. Miller’s honors English class today about writing.”

  “Good for you, Jack.” The woman nodded her approval. “Did they give you a hard time? I bet a big, strong guy like you didn’t have any problem keeping them in line.”

  “Didn’t have to. They seemed interested in what I had to say. Asked a lot of questions.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Speaking of questions, I have one. What is the Sunshine Fund?”

  “It was Mayor Goodson-McKnight’s idea.” Aggie folded her arms over her chest. “It’s an account funded by donations to help out a down-on-their-luck citizen or family. A kid who needs help paying for football equipment so he can participate in the sport. Someone out of work who needs groceries or money to pay utilities. The city council pays me to run the thrift store, accept and organize donations. But all proceeds above and beyond overhead go into the fund. In fact a lot of the money is raised by community events.”

  “Like the Halloween party?” Erin asked.

  “Yes.” Aggie nodded. “There’s a small admittance fee and it’s a potluck so there’s very little operating cost. Folks have fun and money is raised for a good cause. A win-win.”

  “Noble undertaking,” Jack agreed.

  “You’ll be there, won’t you?”

  “Affirmative.” It would have been like saying no to Mrs. Santa Claus.

  “Wonderful. You know it’s a costume party,” Aggie said.

  “That’s why we’re here,” he told her.

  “Then you’re going to want the clothes area,” she suggested. “It’s in the back right corner. And if you need any props beyond hats and jewelry, just ask.”

  “You can actually find stuff in here?” Jack was skeptical. “Specific items?”

  “It may not look that way, but things are organized and I know where everything is.”

  “Understood.”

  “So, are you two going to do a couples costume? Romeo and Juliet? Caesar and Cleopatra? Beckett and Castle? He’s that writer who solves crimes on that TV show. Since you’re an author...” The older woman shrugged.

  “I love that show,” Erin said.

  Jack was glad she fielded that because he was still trying to wrap his mind around the couples-costume remark. Why would she think that?

  “We’re just going to look around.” Erin grinned, obviously enjoying his version of being a fish out of water.

  “Have fun, you two.”

  In the back corner they found stands of old clothes, hats and coats. Erin started rummaging through the racks along with several other women. Since no one said hello, he was pretty sure she was not acquainted with them.

  She pulled out a dress, then walked over to the headgear section. In front of a full-length mirror she put on a 1930s-era hat. Turning, she said, “I could be Bonnie Parker.”

  A young brunette looked up and checked her out. “That would work. And on the men’s rack there’s a pin-striped suit. You guys could go as Bonnie and Clyde.”

  Erin nodded and smiled at the other woman. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Over Jack’s dead body. No pun intended.

  The brunette drifted away but Little Miss Perky kept looking. She pulled a pink satin jacket out and said, “Sandy from the movie Grease.”

  A familiar redhead moved in from behind him and walked over to check it out. He didn’t think Delanie Carlson ever left Bar None. “Hi, Jack.”

  “Who let you out?”

  “As it happens, I’m the boss. And people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. How did you give your computer the slip?” She smiled at Erin. “He hasn’t scared you off yet?”

  “I’m made of sterner stuff.”

  “Sassy.” Delanie nodded at the pink jacket. “Then Sandy is perfect for you. All Jack needs is a black leather jacket, white T-shirt and a bucket of hair gel to be your Danny Zuko.”

  “What makes everyone think we’re coordinating costumes?” His charm had one nerve left and this woman had picked a bad time to get on it.

  “You’re here together, aren’t you?” Delanie asked. “That shouts couple to me. Just saying...”

  Erin laughed but it sounded strained. “It’s not like that. We work together. You could say we’re friends. But nothing more.”

  “Whatever. None of my business.” Delanie lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

  “Seriously,” Erin continued. “I won’t be here that much
longer.”

  Couples costumes did not a couple make. They worked together and it was a temporary situation. Yet another reminder was like a bucket of ice water and got his attention. It was easy to slip into complacency but also dangerous. To be a couple you had to live in the same town and they didn’t. Geographic distance wasn’t an insurmountable problem, but not the only one. It was impossible to be a couple by yourself. He wouldn’t participate because he wasn’t good at being anyone’s significant other. Not even Erin’s.

  * * *

  The Blackwater Lake community costume party was on the Saturday before Halloween. Erin dressed up as Sandy from Grease with the pink jacket, crisp white blouse and the tightest pair of black pants she owned since the thrift store was fresh out of leather ones. Go figure. Her hair was pulled up into a sassy ponytail and blond enough with the highlights.

  Jack had pulled out his inner juvenile delinquent and put it on display. The leather jacket was battered. His white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest tight enough to make the Pink Ladies swoon. And he hadn’t shaved, adding an element of danger to his Danny Zuko, a bad boy in a very good way.

  He parked the jeep in the lot behind the community center, next door to city hall, where the mayor’s office was located. Looking at Erin he said, “So, our deal is that when I’m bored to tears we can leave, right?”

  “You won’t be bored.” Please, God, don’t let him be bored. This was supposed to be good for him and if he ended up a wallflower it wouldn’t be pretty.

  “But if I am we can split.” He waited for confirmation.

  “There’s going to be food, music, dancing. People. Remember them? You’re going to have a great time.”

  “As you’re so good at reminding me, I’m a hermit. Hermits know no one.”

  “Hermit might be an exaggeration.” But not by a lot.

  “No, it’s on the mark.” He was staring at the big building with light pouring out of the windows and people moving around inside. “A hermit, by definition, avoids large gatherings. We haven’t been spotted. It would be easy to turn around and leave. No one would even notice—”

  “Bite your tongue, Jack Garner. That’s crazy talk. And, dare I say it? Cowardly.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Probably he could. He was a hero in the noblest sense and had served his country with distinction. There was nothing to prove. But she wanted this for him. “I already paid for our admittance.”

  “What if I pay you back?”

  “Here’s an idea. Take a risk. And look at it this way—when tonight is over you’ll realize that no harm was done in this socialization experiment.”

  “What about my ego?”

  “It’s so big you won’t even miss a little bit if you’re dinged.”

  “Ouch.” He opened the driver’s side door. “This is a tough crowd. I think I’ll take my chances with the hostiles.”

  “That’s the spirit.” She slid out, then opened the rear passenger door to retrieve the batch of four-cheese macaroni she’d made. “Love the optimism, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” He was waiting at the front of the jeep for her. “Good talk.”

  “See? I proved you wrong. I am good for something. There was a time when you didn’t want me here.”

  Spotlights on the outside of the building shone in his eyes, illuminating a sudden intensity. But it disappeared when he said in a teasing tone, “Now it’s hard to picture Blackwater Lake without you in it.”

  Erin stumbled in her black heels but it wasn’t about the uneven surface of the parking lot as much as his words. Did he mean that or was it more to mess with her? Between that and the feel of his hand on her arm to steady her she was in a state that could best be described as flummoxed. When the buzzing in her head stopped she was going to ask whether or not he was serious, but by that time they were approaching the door. Putting the discussion on hold seemed prudent.

  A woman Erin had never met was sitting at a table just inside the door. Face paint made it hard to tell her age and the black hair looked sprayed on. She was wearing an orange T-shirt with a spider and web on it and a headband with pumpkins sticking up.

  She grinned at them. “Sandy and Danny. You guys look great. Name, please. I’ll check my list.”

  “Erin Riley and Jack Garner.”

  “The writer.” Her eyes grew as big as saucers and no reply from him was necessary since she babbled on. “I’m a big fan. Dory Carter.” A little flustered, she glanced down and scanned the sheet of paper in front of her. “Here you are. I’ll stamp you.”

  They held out their hands and came away with an inked pumpkin on the back.

  “The table against the wall over there is for food,” Dory said. “Just drop off your dish and have a great time. Happy Halloween.”

  “Thanks, Dory,” she said.

  The oblong-shaped room was big with long tables and folding chairs set up at one end. The walls had pictures of witches, ghosts and vampires. White cottony web with spiders caught in it was liberally spread over everything. Orange and black balloons decorated the tables. It was cheerful and festive. They took the casserole dish containing a double batch of four-cheese macaroni to the food table and Jack set it down. “Mission accomplished.”

  “Come on, Captain America, let’s mingle.” She snapped her fingers. “Now that would have been a fitting costume.”

  “I don’t do tights.”

  “I’m not sure he does them, either.” She pointed. “There’s the sheriff. That’s a good place to start being sociable. He’s already your friend.”

  “April Kennedy is with him.”

  “Look at this as an opportunity to show her you’re not a temperamental writer.”

  “I’m not.”

  “If you say so.”

  Side by side they threaded their way through the crowd to where the couple was standing. Will Fletcher was in his sheriff’s uniform and his fiancée had on an orange jumpsuit.

  “Hi,” Erin greeted them. She looked at the man’s khaki shirt and pants. “I thought costumes were mandatory. You’re cheating.”

  “I’m on duty. Crowd control.” He grinned down at the woman beside him. “And this is Shady Sadie, my prisoner.”

  “Prisoner of love,” she said, grinning at him before looking them over. “And you guys look great.”

  “It’s all her.” Jack nodded in Erin’s direction.

  “Thanks goes to the thrift store. The Sunshine Fund is a little sunnier now.”

  Jack looked around the room that was getting more crowded all the time. “Is it always like this?”

  “Yes,” April said. “People in this town do holidays right and Halloween is neck and neck with Christmas as the favorite. Who doesn’t love to get dressed up and be someone they’re not?”

  Erin gave Jack a look that warned him not to say that under protest he was dressed up and pretending to be someone he wasn’t. His small smile said that’s exactly what he’d planned to say but he got the message.

  “There are some very creative costumes,” April said, letting her gaze wander over the people closest to them. “And some...not so much. Seriously? A shirt that says This is my costume?”

  “Nobody cares.” Will was constantly looking, checking things out. “Mostly we just love a good excuse for a party.”

  Jack was watching the other man, alpha male to alpha male. “Must be hard on you having to work.”

  “Not so bad. I’m a trained observer and do it all the time whether I’m on the clock or not. This way my staff gets to relax and let their hair down. And tonight I get paid.”

  “And I get paid to take pictures.” April removed a small camera from the pocket of her jumpsuit. “Let’s get one of our local celebrity. Say cheese, you two.”

  Without warning, Jack
pulled her into his arms and bent her back, as if getting ready to kiss her. There was a flash and Erin wasn’t sure if it was the camera or his grin. Before she could decide, he stood up straight and brought her with him, keeping his arm around her waist. It was very coupley and nice. But she was pretty sure he was messing with her.

  April was checking out the shot. “Good move, Jack. Great picture of you both.”

  “Happy to oblige.”

  “This one is going to make it into the newspaper,” the photographer proclaimed.

  “What?” Jack tensed a little.

  April looked up. “Like I said, I get paid to take pictures. I do freelance work along with having my shop. The Blackwater Lake Review Journal pays me for any pictures they print. I hope it’s okay to submit this one for consideration.”

  “Absolutely.” The smile Jack aimed at the other woman oozed charm.

  “Good.” She snapped her fingers. “Speaking of that... There’s someone you need to meet.”

  Erin watched her disappear into the crowd. “Where is she going?”

  “No idea,” Will answered. “It’s always an adventure when you hang out with a creative personality. But you should be used to that.”

  Maybe. But she was resisting that feeling because hanging out with Jack was going to end sooner rather than later.

  April reappeared with a nice-looking man in his thirties who was wearing a black Stetson, worn jeans, a long-sleeved snap-front shirt and boots. Best guess? This was a cowboy costume, although there were enough people who made their living on ranches around here that it was hard to tell.

  “Jack, I want you to meet Logan Turner, owner, publisher and editor of our local paper. Logan, this is Jack Garner and his research assistant, Erin Riley.”

  “I’m a big fan of your work.” Logan held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same here.”

  “Look, Jack...” He hesitated, then barreled on. “I’m just going to put this out there and feel free to tell me to go to hell. I know you don’t do interviews. Although lack of promotion didn’t seem to hurt the sales of your book any. But I was wondering if you’d make an exception and talk to me for an article. Now that you’ve put down roots here in Blackwater Lake.”