Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  “Her business is doing as well as can be expected. She’s only been open a month.” Carrying a plate of cookies, Rose came out from the kitchen and kissed her son on the cheek. “Was your room to your liking?”

  “Great, Mom,” Chris said.

  “Good.” Rose patted him on the shoulder. “Your sister works too hard. She hasn’t done anything fun since she left the military.”

  “Well, that was fun. Leaving the military, that is.” Holly shared a smile with her brother.

  “You know what I mean. Movies, shopping, going out to dinner.” Her mother opened the pastry case and added cookies to the plates inside.

  “How do you know?” Holly paused in her cleaning and eyed her mother. “I have lots of fun.”

  Emptying the plate of cookies, her mother straightened and closed the pastry case. “I know you’re either here or in the attic.”

  “You make me sound like an eccentric aunt.” Chris looked pointedly at the top of her head. Lifting one hand, Holly discovered Carolyn’s hair clip attached to her short hair. Belatedly she remembered finding the clip in the kitchen and sticking it in her hair while she unloaded the dishwasher. She sighed and changed the subject. “Let me guess. You want a—” she stared up at the ceiling as she analyzed her brother’s espresso preference “—skinny amaretto latte, affogato style.”

  Chris pursed his lips and said, “Sounds good.” Their mother filled the containers on the condiment counter. “You know, Mom has a point. All work and no play... What happened to the woman who took spur-of-the-moment vacations in Mexico?”

  Holly groaned as she took a mug off the top of the espresso machine. She pulled a container of milk from the fridge. “I’ve had enough trips to last a lifetime.”

  “Don’t you miss the traveling?”

  “Sometimes.” Holly peered around the machine, eyes flitting from her mother to the temperature gauge on the steaming milk. She moved the wand so the burbling grew louder and she raised her voice. “What would Valerie like, Chris? I’ll make her a drink.”

  “She’s a simple woman, Holly. Just make her a double shot skinny vanilla latte. And don’t think I didn’t notice—you’re trying to get rid of me already. But I think I’ll enjoy the ambience of your little coffee shop before I head back. Valerie won’t be up for another hour, at least.”

  “Who’s watching the baby?”

  “Dad.”

  Grinning at Chris calling his stylish wife a “simple woman,” Holly set the cup on the counter. “One skinny amaretto latte, affogato style.” At the same time she wondered how her brother had persuaded her busy father to babysit.

  Chris reached for the cup, eyebrows raised. “Nice, sis.” He sipped the frothy drink. “Good job. Thank you.”

  Holly flashed her brother a smile and breathed a sigh of relief. Chris had traveled as much as she. His approval was a good sign.

  Chris wrapped his fingers around the brown mug and took another sip. “So, Mom, what do you suggest we do to get Holly out of her rut?”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake...” Holly muttered, reaching for the peach tea bags.

  “It would be nice if you had a date with some young man but that doesn’t seem to be happening.” Rose sprayed the front of the display case with glass cleaner. Ripping off some paper towels, she attacked the glass.

  “Whatever happened to Nick?” Chris asked.

  Pouring milk into the pitcher, Holly glanced at her brother. “I told—”

  “He was such a nice man,” her mother continued as if Holly hadn’t spoken. “Polite and so handsome in his uniform.” She turned back to the display case and spritzed the other side.

  Chris strolled toward the bookshelves, his voice rising as he walked away. “I don’t think he tripped Holly’s trigger, Mom.”

  “Hel-lo-o. I’m standing right here.” Holly lifted the milk to the steamer wand and soon the burbling filled the room. Nick. He had looked good in his dress blues. Great build, dark brown hair, brown eyes, flashing white teeth. He could have posed for a recruitment poster. They both could have, which was the root of the problem. Nick wanted a military wife. Too bad she didn’t realize the truth until she had invested four years of her life. Men and their motives.

  “Maybe she can go shopping with Valerie while you’re home,” her mom said. “All she wears are air force T-shirts.”

  “All I need are air force T-shirts.” The burbling ceased as she pulled the milk pitcher from the wand.

  “My point exactly.”

  Annoyed at the ongoing discussion of her personal life, Holly ripped open the box and tea bags flew across the counter and landed in the sink. Throwing the destroyed box in the trash, she shot her mother a look. “Mother, stop. I don’t need fun. I don’t need dates. I don’t need clothes. I need to stay in business so Dad can’t walk in here and say ‘I told you so.’”

  Her mother stood openmouthed in front of the pastry case, paper towels in one hand and spray bottle in the other. Her brother leaned on the end of the counter, staring into his coffee mug.

  “Methinks she doth protest too much,” Rose said and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Gathering up the scattered tea bags, Holly added six to a pitcher of hot water and set the timer, irritation prickling between her shoulder blades. Maybe she shouldn’t have returned home. All this familiarity was getting on her nerves.

  Between her confusing reaction to having Mac’s hands around her wrists, her father’s lack of enthusiasm and her mother’s insistence that she have fun, Holly had had about all she could take.

  She reached for the nonfat milk for Valerie’s skinny latte. The sooner Chris went on his way, the better. Then her mother wouldn’t have anyone with whom to discuss Holly’s private life.

  Holly pumped sugar-free vanilla into the cup, pulled two shots of espresso and added the milk, steamed extra hot to survive the short trip home. “One double shot skinny sugar-free vanilla latte, extra hot, brother.” She set the cup in the center of the counter and smiled.

  “Okay, I’m leaving.” Chris waved a paperback novel in the air. “Borrowing.”

  “Bye.” Holly threw the bar towel on the counter and shook her head.

  Chris opened the door, then turned and threw her a sympathetic grin. “Hang in there, sis. You’ll be fine.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  ON MEMORIAL DAY, Holly closed the shop at noon. It’s fine, she told herself, everyone’s having picnics or spending the weekend at the lake.

  Heading for her own family picnic, she shoved some stale cookies into a tin, hurried home and changed into a pair of old shorts and an air force T-shirt. Then she loaded her mother’s cooler packed with salads into the trunk of her tiny sports car.

  “Ready, Mom?” Holly stood at the kitchen door of the bed-and-breakfast. One thing about her mother: she didn’t hold grudges. Their earlier disagreement was forgotten as they gathered supplies for the afternoon picnic at the farm.

  Rose glanced around the kitchen and held up one finger. “Let me grab a book, in case I get a minute to myself.”

  Holly went out to the wide back porch and sank onto the swing. Bright green tufts of lettuce grew in her mother’s kitchen garden, along with a few shoots of just emerging onions. Brilliant pink peonies, blossoming in full glory, lined the paved walk leading to the gazebo in the far corner of the yard. Holly breathed in their heady scent.

  Book under her arm, Rose pulled the kitchen door shut and wiggled the knob to make sure it was locked. A bag of potato chips dangled from her fingers.

  “More chips?” Holly rose from the swing.

  “I had an extra bag. Those boys eat like vultures.”

  “The backyard looks nice, Mom.” Holly opened her car door and sank into the driver’s seat. Her mother placed the chips on the floor and then, holding tightly to th
e handgrip, lowered herself onto the passenger seat.

  “Thanks, honey. The gazebo your father built adds a nice touch. He’s working on a covered bridge for the little stream out back. That man works too hard.”

  Holly eased down the long driveway and looked both ways before turning left and heading toward the farm.

  The only place to park was the lawn. Holly gingerly pulled her low-slung car onto a patch of grass next to her parents’ SUV. She popped the trunk, grabbed the cooler and followed her mother to the back of the house.

  When she rounded the lilac bushes, Holly skidded to a stop. The patch of concrete that had served as a back porch all the years of her childhood was gone, replaced by decorative slate stretching the length of the old farmhouse. At the far end Thomas grilled hamburgers in a new outdoor kitchen area. The only thing Holly recognized was the hand pump and square cement basin. She rested the cooler on the edge of the trough.

  Bestowing kisses on one of Sonny’s twins as she passed, Rose continued to the screen door. Holly prepared to heft the heavy cooler when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “Looks different, doesn’t it?”

  She turned and stared into Mac McAndrews’s warm blue eyes. The farm hadn’t been his home, but he was around often enough to understand the memories that had disappeared along with the destruction of the old porch. “I’m shocked.” She looked around to see if anyone heard.

  Mac took the cooler from her and walked to where her mother waited with the door open. “Hi, Mrs. H.”

  Rose patted Mac on the shoulder as he passed her and disappeared into the kitchen. “Thanks, Mac, honey.”

  Holly sank onto the concrete edge of the trough, her gaze on the lights and slow-moving fans hanging from the new porch ceiling. Her brother had created a Southern plantation feel with his remodeling. Gone were the rafters with the peeling paint, where her swing had hung. On a rainy day she would swing bare toes in and out of the falling rain. She reminded herself the farm was Thomas’s now—Thomas and Beth and their two little boys and soon another little boy or girl.

  She followed the scent of barbecuing meat to the grill. “Hey, what’s happening?”

  “I wasn’t sure you were coming.” Thomas rubbed a patch of dark whiskers at his chin.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You haven’t been out here since Christmas.” Wiping his fingers on the front of his Kiss the Cook apron, Thomas gave her a sidelong glance as he flipped a burger. He slammed the lid as steam rose in a cloud.

  “I’ve been busy with the coffee shop.” She pretended to be absorbed in watching one of the twins playing with a gray cat. “You’ve made a lot of changes.”

  Easing the lid open, Thomas added hot dogs to the spaces between the hamburgers. “Does it bother you?”

  “Of course not. Why would it?” Holly gave her brother what she hoped was an encouraging smile. She’d thought she was coming home after she put in her papers. Instead when she came back at Christmas her trophies and ribbons had already been boxed up and moved to the attic. She’d known Thomas would take over the farm someday. She just hadn’t expected the transition to be so soon.

  “By the way, I made elderberry wine last fall. If you want any there’s an open jug in the wine cellar.” After loading the cooked burgers and wieners onto a plate, Thomas disappeared into the kitchen. “Catch ya later, sis.”

  “You have a wine cellar?” Holly crossed her arms and studied the young girl with curly hair the same chestnut shade as Carolyn’s. “Let’s see. You’re Rachel.”

  Trailing a piece of yarn in front of the transfixed cat, Holly’s niece giggled and shook her head.

  Seeing her nieces and nephews once or twice a year, Holly wasn’t surprised the girl was shy. She tried for a giggle. “How about Rosa Lou? That’s it, right?”

  The girl’s pale eyebrows shot up. “Aunt Holly, I’m Rosalyn. Don’t you remember?”

  “Just kidding.” Holly worked the pump handle and washed her hands under the sudden stream with a bar of soap left on the edge. She elbowed her niece as she dried her hands on her shorts. “Of course I know who you are. You’re my favorite niece, and you’ll be turning double digits next month.”

  Leaving the girl entertaining the cat, Holly entered the kitchen to find everybody talking. She stood in the doorway and took in the chaotic scene.

  “I didn’t expect to see you today. I thought you’d be at the coffee shop.” Fritz Hoffman appeared from the hallway to her left and squinted. “Did you have much business this morning?”

  That made two family members who hadn’t thought she was coming. Holly straightened as she addressed her father. “I closed at noon.”

  He pressed his lips together, as if trying to hold in his retort. Naturally, he failed. “Are you sure that was wise? You’ve got to make hay while the sun shines, you know.”

  “Everybody’s having picnics—” She inclined her head toward the crowd in the kitchen “—like us, Dad. No one wants to hang out in a coffee shop today.”

  Running a hand through his thick white hair, Fritz nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” He eyed the women clustered around the counter. “Too many cooks in here. I think I’ll disappear until the food is on the table.”

  A smile lit his face as he pushed through the door. “I see my A-student granddaughter.”

  Holly clenched her teeth. Of the four children, she was the only one to be the lucky recipient of her father’s opinion on her life choices. Sonny, Thomas, Chris...all three had questionable moments in their pasts. Had her father said anything? No.

  Holly surveyed the scene. “Disappearing is the best advice you’ve had yet, Dad.” She eased past the open refrigerator, where her mother withdrew bowls of potato and macaroni salad, passed through the living room and exited by the front door. She wasn’t surprised to see the front porch had been redone as well, with a pair of comfortable chaise lounges flanking the door and three pots of geraniums anchoring the wide stairs leading to the lawn.

  In the front yard, picnic tables were already covered with bright tablecloths. Holly stopped for a moment to take in the familiar view of the far-off mountains.

  She counted the number of children sitting at the kids’ table. The twins, their seven-year-old brother, Freddy, Thomas’s two boys—five-year-old Jeremy and three-year-old Justin—made five, which left room for Holly, the designated adult. She had spent time in a war zone. She should be able to handle the kids’ table. No sooner had Holly filled a cup with iced tea from a large thermos and claimed her spot, than the family converged on the tables.

  Thomas came around a corner of the house holding a platter of hamburgers and hot dogs. “Come and get it.” His voice, conditioned over the years to rise above the sound of machinery, could have carried to the next farm.

  Valerie placed Harley’s high chair at the end of the children’s table and sat at the end of the adjacent table. Though her straight, light brown hair was clasped at her neck, she still managed, as usual, to look elegant in a long pale blue skirt and white top. “Holly, would you get Harley a hot dog?”

  “I’ve got her, Val. Enjoy your lunch.” Holly slapped a hot dog in a bun and set the sandwich on the tray. The baby pounced on the food immediately.

  “Oh, heavens, no, Holly.” Valerie snatched the hot dog and Harley wailed in protest. “She might choke.” Discarding the bun and dropping the wiener onto her plate, she cut off a slice, then cut the circle into four small pieces. She set the meat in front of her daughter, who ceased her wailing as she fisted a piece to her mouth.

  “Sorry. I didn’t know.” She had learned a lot in the military, but she didn’t remember any training on how to feed hot dogs to babies. She glanced around the small table of chattering nieces and nephews and wondered if she was endangering any other children.

  Valerie patted her back, then sat
down to resume eating. “She’s fine, Holly. You wouldn’t know. You haven’t been around children.”

  Beth patted her protruding belly. “Good thing you don’t have to worry about providing grandchildren. Your brothers took care of that.”

  “She’s commanded troops. I’ll bet she could figure out kids. If she wanted to.” Plate in one hand and cup in the other, Mac winked at Holly as he passed Beth.

  Holly caught her father’s eye on her, but a second later he turned away.

  She forced a laugh. “Men can be babies at times.” Holly had considered having children when she and Nick were engaged, but she wasn’t even thirty yet. Her family’s assumption they knew what was in her future annoyed her, but then a lot of things had been annoying her since her return home.

  Lunch continued with the only incident being a spilled glass of lemonade. After helping to clear the tables, Holly escaped, but not before grabbing a handful of carrots from the vegetable tray. She walked up the lane toward the pond.

  Holly patted her stomach, full of her favorite foods—grilled hamburgers, her mother’s potato salad and Carolyn’s double chocolate brownies. The excited mealtime chatter, with everybody talking at once, had been a bonus. In her travels with the military, she had missed many of the family get-togethers, watching nieces and nephews grow, keeping up with life’s changes...

  She rounded the barn to say hello to her horse. Standing under an apple tree in the middle of the field with the others, the gelding pricked his ears at her appearance. With a snort, he trotted over and nudged her with his nose.

  She reached up under his long forelock and gave him a scratch. “Hey, Twister, buddy. I’ve missed you.” Ever since Mac had asked her about Twister at the coffee shop, she’d been thinking about how much she’d loved to ride. Of all her siblings, Holly was the only one who had continued riding through high school.

  The other horses came closer. Holly reached in her pocket and withdrew four carrots. Ridden by her siblings in their youth, the horses lived at the farm in a kind of semiretirement. Holly wondered if any of the grandchildren had caught the riding bug. Noting the round bellies on the horses, she didn’t think so.