He let out a defeated breath. She was gone.
What did he really expect? Women didn’t see him in coffee shops and drool all over him. Yes, he got lucky once in awhile and someone would recognize him, but they didn’t vie to spend time with the geekiest man in a room.
He raked his hands through the mop of hair on his head. Before tomorrow’s book club meeting, he should really get a haircut. After all, no one wanted to read the books by some slob.
He looked down at his shirt. First, he’d have to go to the motel and change his clothes. Hopefully he could find a shirt that was clean enough to wear. With more thought, maybe he’d better go to the Laundromat and wash his clothes. Living out of a suitcase didn’t really offer him the luxury of looking his best.
Kent walked toward his beat up mini-van, which he’d bought from his sister for near to nothing. He tossed his bag into the passenger seat and looked around.
Macon, Georgia. It seemed like a nice enough place. The people had been pleasant. It was already getting warm, in early spring, and that made him nervous—what was summer like? But everywhere he visited could be a perspective home to him. He’d been homeless—so to speak—since he decided to live on the road and write his books. He’d thought it was going to be the adventure of a lifetime, but he could say, without hesitation, it had lost its charm.
However, as long as the money was coming in and they were still discussing the movie rights, he was going to live this dream. But again, Macon had a homey feel.
Maybe it was just the redhead—the glorious redhead.
~*~
Bethany parked across the street from her sister’s bridal shop. She was there to support Susan, but there were a million other places she’d rather be than in a bridal store.
She’d never much cared for the institution of marriage. After all, her parents had never married each other. Her father had been married plenty and it hadn’t seemed to work out.
In all honesty, she knew she wasn’t even giving it a chance—marriage that was. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Susan and Eric were absolutely perfect for each other and their marriage would last forever.
But never having had a married mother, Bethany wondered if she’d missed out on that want as a young girl. Her friends in elementary school would talk about playing dress up and they were brides. She’d attended more than one third grade, playground wedding. The bride, though, was never her.
Bethany looked both ways as she crossed the street. Before she opened the door to the quaint shop, she pushed back her shoulders and let out a long slow breath. This wasn’t about her, it was about Susan. It was another moment to bond with her sister Pearl. An attitude adjustment was in order.
Once she felt as though she were in control of her feelings, she pushed open the door to the most girlie store she’d ever entered, Pearl’s Bridal Boutique.
Bethany had no more opened the door and she saw her sister hurrying toward her. Her blonde curls were bouncing as she enveloped her in a hug.
Pearl held her at arm’s length and looked her over. “You look beautiful today.”
“I had an audition.”
“I heard! How did it go?”
“I didn’t get it.”
Pearl’s blue eyes turned sad. “I’m sorry.”
Her long earrings shook with the shaking of her head and the bracelets on her arm clicked as she rubbed her hands over Bethany’s arms.
“It’s okay. Everything happens in its own time, right?”
Pearl smiled. “Right. And this time is carved out for Susan. I have a whole rack of dresses for her to try. Lydia is here too. I have a bottle of champagne and some delightful chocolate dipped strawberries. I’m just going to turn the sign around to closed and we can get started.”
“You’re closing the store for this?”
There was a glow to her sister, she decided when she looked at her.
“I’m so giddy to be with family I don’t want anyone to ruin this. Besides, who ever thought Eric would get married and to a catch like Susan?” She grinned from ear to ear. “Audrey might stop by later,” she said softly. “She’s a little nervous to be around you, but I think she’ll warm up just fine.”
That thought twisted in Bethany’s gut. She didn’t want people to be uncomfortable around her—especially her family.
Pearl turned the sign and locked the door. Then she took Bethany’s arm and led her to the back of the store where there was a bigger room full of mirrors, comfortable chairs, and more lace than Bethany had ever seen in her life.
Lydia stood the moment they walked into the room and moved in to hug Bethany.
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” she said. Her dark eyes were wide with wonder as she pulled Bethany to sit next to her on the sofa in the room.
“I’ll get the champagne. I have Susan trying on the first dress.”
Pearl disappeared and Bethany took in the room.
“Have you ever seen so many dresses?”
“Only on the set of Bachelorette Massacre,” Bethany commented with a snarl.
“You were in that movie?”
“It was my first. I was the second bridesmaid to get an ax to the head.”
Lydia cringed and held her hand to her chest. “That’s disgusting.”
Bethany shrugged a shoulder. “It paid the rent. You can download it on Netflix I’m sure.”
“No disrespect, but I’m going to pass.”
Pearl walked back into the room with a silver tray in hand full of champagne flutes filled with bubbly, gold liquid. She set the tray on the table in front of Bethany and Lydia before handing them each a glass.
She held her glass in the air. “To the bride-to-be.”
Bethany and Lydia raised their glasses and they all clinked just as Susan walked out of the dressing room.
“This is going to be the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I love this one and it’s the first one I’ve tried on,” she said with a quiver in her voice.
Bethany simply stared at her.
Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders and the white lace of the dress hugged them. The bodice scooped in the front for a nice effect, but it wasn’t too racy and the skirt opened fully.
Pearl set her flute down and walked to Susan. She picked up a padded bracelet of sewing pins and slipped it on her arm before tugging on the dress.
“It looks like this one would need a few inches off the bottom and just a little nip in the side here. You have a very athletic build.”
“Not like Bethany’s,” Susan said as she examined herself in the mirror.
“You could do some yoga with me.”
Susan’s brows drew together as she examined the dress further. “I think I’ll start tonight with your bedtime routine. Now would be an excellent time for me to be in the best shape.”
Lydia sat with her legs crossed at the knee bouncing her foot as she sipped her champagne. “Your shape is nothing to scoff at. You could have tiny boobs like mine.”
Everyone in the room turned toward Lydia, who now held her hands out to the side.
Yes, Bethany thought, Mother Nature has nearly skipped over that part for Lydia.
Bethany looked down at the V-neck of her own dress. She had plenty to share.
“Okay, go try on the next dress,” Pearl instructed and sent Susan off to the dressing room to change.
“How many dresses do you have for her?” Bethany asked, noting the creeping sickness stirring in her stomach from what she assumed was nothing more than jealousy.
“Seven,” Pearl beamed. “I actually didn’t show her the last one. I think it’ll be the one she picks.”
Bethany drank down the champagne in her flute. This was her life now—the one she’d chosen to give into. Family was what she’d sought and this was what family did for each other. They suffered in a sea of white lace and frills just to make each other happy. She just wasn’t sure she had it in her.
“Are you coming to the book club tomorrow?
” Lydia asked.
“I told Susan I was available.” Of course she was. She had no other life than to lock herself in her house afraid that some other psycho might decide to take his wrath of hatred out on her or her family.
“Kent Black will be there.”
Bethany nodded. “I heard.”
“Don’t you love his books? He’s a genius.”
“You read that stuff?”
“Don’t you?” Pearl added in surprise.
Bethany shook her head. “No. I don’t. I read to enlighten myself. Learn something new. I certainly don’t need someone’s imaginary solar system filling my head. I have enough crap going on in there. Hell, I have a therapist.”
Lydia pursed her lips. “That’s not your fault. Don’t ever think it is. Just because some maniac goes after you doesn’t mean you can’t open yourself up to possibilities. Christ, maybe you should read a book. You should read some raunchy erotic romance.”
“Yeah, you know that one where…” Her words were cut short as Susan emerged again from the dressing room, and again, nodded at the dress.
“This one. This is it!”
Bethany smiled, but sat back against the couch. Seven dresses, and the one Pearl was keeping from her. This was going to be a very long night. Maybe she should pick up Kent Black’s book. Perhaps it would put her right to sleep when she got home.
Chapter Three
Kent had driven up and down the streets near the coffee shop looking for the car that the redhead had driven. He’d seen one that he thought looked like it, but it was parked outside a barbershop and he was sure that wasn’t where she’d gone.
It was useless. People floated in and out of his life. He was used to that. Some thought he was intellectually fascinating, while others criticized his thought process and said his creations were simply preposterous.
He wasn’t some scientist. He never claimed to be. He was a guy who had a wild imagination and somehow it turned into a career.
That thought made him laugh as he pulled to the stoplight. What would his third grade teacher Mrs. C. think of his success now? She certainly hadn’t appreciated his drawings on the back of his homework back then. Kent has his head in the clouds again, she’d say to his mother. He’s never going to be useful in society if all he thinks about are aliens and time travel.
Kent looked in the seat next to him where a box of books sat. On the cover was a fantastic rendition of a drawing he’d done and Yance O’Connell had turned it into a mesmerizing piece of art. Yeah, Mrs. C. could eat erasers for all he cared. It might be funny to send her a check that could put her pension to shame.
The driver behind him honked his horn and Kent realized he was sitting at a green light. He eased through the intersection and headed toward the hotel.
He’d gather his laundry and then head out for that haircut he needed before tomorrow. Maybe he’d head back to where he thought he’d seen her car. It was the first actual barbershop he’d seen.
An hour later he was driving back down the street where he’d thought he’d seen her car, but this time he was looking for the barber pole.
There, on the right.
Kent slowed. There was an open space right behind the car he’d thought was hers. Whoever’s car that was must work in the area.
He pulled into the space and parked. The basket of laundry in the back seat caught his eye now. He’d meant to find the Laundromat first so he didn’t have to wait all night for his clothes to wash at the hotel laundry room.
Where was his head?
He knew where it was. It was with that redhead. Princess Carlotta, he’d named her in his book. Or he’d jotted down the name when it came to him. She’d be a very popular character. The teenage boys would want her and the girls would want to be her.
Yep, he was pathetic, he thought as he opened the door and climbed from the car.
A woman, as fine as the redhead, would come into his life someday. He’d been patient. He wasn’t desperate. He was hopeful—yes that’s what he was.
It was in his blood that was all. His parents had been married for nearly forty-five years and his sister was following right along in their footsteps. She’d been married now nearly seven years and had three kids. There was rumor they were thinking about another.
Kent had loved and lost. What girl wasn’t impressed when he wanted to go to a Star Wars event for their “anniversary” weekend? Truth was, he hadn’t found that woman yet. Zoe had shaken her head, rolled her eyes, and said she was done when he’d mentioned it. She had been his longest relationship. Two full years.
He laughed at himself as he stepped into the barbershop. There was no hope for him.
There was only one man cutting hair, but there were four old men sitting in the waiting area. None of them looked as though they needed a cut, he observed.
“I’ll be with you in about ten minutes,” the barber said as he cut the hair of the man in the chair. “Have a seat.”
Kent wedged himself into the empty seat between a frail man resting his hand on a walking cane and a generously sized man who wore overalls of all things.
A TV in the corner of the shop was turned to a basketball game and all men were enthralled.
“Did you see that?” The man in the far chair slapped his hand on his knee. “Dad-gum!”
“Luck,” another man said. “That boy has no skill.”
“You bite your tongue.”
“Oh, you think you know the game, Mr. Golf Pro?”
The large man to Kent’s left laughed, but never took his eyes off the TV.
The debate continued until the man in the barber’s chair stood, paid his bill, and walked out of the store. Kent figured he only had to wait out the next four men and he could leave—though this was a good opportunity for character development.
“Hey, kid. I’m ready for you,” the barber said and all of the men looked at him.
“We’re here for the game,” the man with the cane said.
Kent nodded and took his place in the chair.
After telling the barber what he wanted he simply observed the men and their banter. It was fascinating.
The barber began the cut, talking to him and then talking to the other men. They were fascinated with the game and less than amused by Kent’s career. It was refreshing, actually.
Midway through his cut Kent noticed the woman—the redhead in the flowery yellow dress. She walked across the street and to the car he’d thought he’d recognized.
“Whoa!” The barber said placing his hand on his shoulder. “You move like that again, I might cut your ear off, son.”
“Sorry. I didn’t…I saw…” He saw her car drive away.
The four men whose attention had been directed at the screen watched the redhead drive away.
“She’s something,” the man with the cane said with a whistle. “I’d have jumped from my seat too.”
“California plates,” another larger man said. “Must be lost this far south.” They all laughed.
Kent hadn’t even noticed the out of state plates on the car. Certainly she wouldn’t be around town too much longer then.
“Friend of yours?” the barber asked as he continued on with the cut.
“No. Saw her earlier and she caught my attention.”
“Can’t blame you. You got Texas plates on your van. What has you here?”
Funny, they were equally as observant. “My job.”
“Right. You write books.”
Again, the man didn’t sound impressed.
“Right,” Kent repeated. The girl was lost, but tomorrow a group of book readers would be impressed by him. Lydia Morgan, the woman who had set up the signing, had been very fascinated by him—she’d said so. He could use some attention. Traveling alone—sleeping alone—eating alone was becoming, well, lonely. It was seriously time to think about finding a place or heading back to Texas. What were the odds there would be a third chance is the charm encounter?
When the haircut was f
inished, he generously tipped the barber, who whistled too.
“You come back any time,” he said with a grin.
“If I’m in town I certainly will.” He waved goodbye to the men and headed back to his pathetic mini-van.
Kent looked around for the promise of a Laundromat, but no luck. However, the store that the redhead had walked out of caught his eyes. Crap! A bridal store. He might as well go home to Texas.
~*~
At a stoplight, Bethany pulled her hair up into a ponytail and took a glance in the mirror on the back of her visor. She studied herself for a moment longer. Did she look happy?
When the light turned green, she closed the mirror and drove on.
She felt happy. She had new friends and was bonding with family. There wasn’t a critical eye on her every moment judging if she was too tall, too thin, too redheaded. But something was missing.
Actually, she knew what it was. There had been this jealous buzz running through her since she’d arrived in Georgia after her grandfather’s funeral. Her sisters were close to each other—and to their mother. Her brothers were close to each other—and to their mother. Even their mothers were good friends. Bethany stood out like a sore thumb.
Her cousin Eric had taken her under wing, but even he’d dubbed them the bastards of the family. His mother had past and so had hers. His father had married his mother out of pity, it had been said. Her father hadn’t even married her mother.
She understood why now. Her mother’s indiscretion with the psycho that tried to kill Bethany and Eric had her father keeping his distance from her for her own safety.
Officer Douglas Brant was locked up now. There was no reason to worry about him.
She was bonding with her sister Pearl and her brother Jake. Eric’s fiancée, Susan, had become her best friend and his cousin Lydia had become a dear friend as well. It wasn’t as if she were alone. Heck, she even had lunch plans with her father next week.
But still she felt as though something was missing.
Bethany pulled up in front of the house she shared with Susan and Eric. They’d planted some flowers in the pots that lined the walk and they were blooming. The buds on the trees were beginning to bloom as well. It smelled heavenly. Susan had already told her she could stay in the house as long as she liked once Susan and Eric moved back into his house after it was rebuilt.
Stargazing (The Walker Family Book 2) Page 2