by Dianne Miley
He cleared his throat. “Uh, Ma, what’s a to-pi-ary?”
She sighed loudly. “Oh, what I’d give for a daughter,” she teased with her old joke. “See that planter inside the gazebo?”
“You mean those three balls on a stick?”
She shoved his arm. “That’s one shrub shaped into three balls. Amazing. I’ve never seen a topiary that size. And how they’ve grown roses around it is beyond me.”
“Beyond me too.” Brett rolled his eyes. “Along with everything else the female population dreams up.”
“Well, get a clue.” She shook her head. “The only way I’ll get a daughter is when you get married, Brett Anthony.”
With his mother’s teasing, the gazebo, and the flowers, memories of Laura James overwhelmed him. He saw violet eyes looking up at him, pink lips wrapping around a sandwich, and an enticing lap turning toward him. He almost felt the electrifying touch of her slender fingers.
As much as he’d tried to shake her from his mind, she refused to go. He focused on the grass beneath his feet as they picked their way through the crowd. Suddenly, he spied lavender-polished toenails in strappy sandals. His gaze jerked up.
The toenails belonged to an unfamiliar brunette with an infant. Her eyes widened with surprise at Brett’s sudden attention. She smiled weakly and turned back to her baby.
Once they’d moved out of earshot, his mother asked, “Do you know that woman?”
“No!” he answered abruptly. But he could tell she knew something was up, and she didn’t deserve to be snapped at. Calmly, he explained, “I thought she was someone else.”
“Ah. I do that all the time.”
He had to forget about Laura and stop making a fool of himself. Working with her brother every day didn’t help. Chad constantly talked about his family—often hinting that his little sister was “unattached.” Had Laura dumped her boyfriend or was Chad unaware of him? Brett didn’t have the nerve to ask.
Near the corner of Bob’s Barber Shop, they found a spot to watch the parade. Within minutes, sirens wailed from Crystal Falls’ two police cars. Red and blue lights whirled, and Chief Hunter waved a beefy arm out the window.
Next came the Rose Festival Queen and her royal court displayed in convertibles. Whistles rose from the crowd, but Brett was only vaguely interested.
The fragrance of roses permeated the air as a horse-drawn wagon clip-clopped toward them. Fresh roses of every color overflowed the wagon. From a fancy garden bench at the back, a little girl with a beaming smile tossed candy to the children.
A blonde woman sat next to her, waving to folks across the street as the wind caught her hair and rippled her rose-print dress. Somehow the fabric flowing over her figure enticed him more than ten beauty queens with exposed, goosebump flesh.
Then she turned.
Brett’s gaze locked with Laura James. A yearning to touch her stirred deep within him. She didn’t blink; she didn’t smile. Waving mechanically to the crowd, she just stared at him.
Were her eyes violet or blue right now? He couldn’t tell from here. Wondering what she felt drove him crazy.
The float rolled past but their eyes held. Her gaze zoned in on him like a heat-seeking missile. And he was on fire.
As distance grew between them, her neck twisted to its limit. She shifted for one last, long look. The horses rounded the corner onto Park Avenue. Then she was lost behind the trees.
He had to find her.
Snapping out of his trance, he caught a knowing grin on Angelina’s face. Blast it! The last thing he needed was his Italian mother interfering. She’d be cooking wedding soup before he even asked Laura out. He looked away.
Something irresistible drew him to Laura. What harm was a fun summer fling? He’d keep it casual so no one would get hurt.
After the parade, he’d make some excuse and go find her. Beads of sweat sprouted on his forehead. He wiped his face, and Angelina noticed. He needed a distraction.
Pointing to the dancing sundae on the float for Frosty’s Ice Cream Parlor, he asked, “Want an ice cream after the parade?”
She chuckled. “Okay. But I’m not sure it’ll cool you off.”
His face flamed, and he stared at his new black work boots. He loved her dearly, but he really wished she’d lay off.
Angelina laced her arm into his and pulled him toward her. “I’m not blind, ya know. She’s a cutie.”
He sighed with resignation. “You got that right.” Maybe the admission would convince her he could handle this himself.
She patted his arm and released it. Antique cars, marching bands, and unicycles blurred past as he daydreamed of Laura.
Suddenly something hit him square in the chest. He startled and a hard rock candy fell to the ground.
“Hey buddy, sleep at night!” a clownish voice called from the street. An orange-haired Bozo in a multi-colored suit doubled over and guffawed.
Laughter surrounded Brett and all eyes stared. Shrinking as if the pavement could swallow him, he was finally relieved when grown men in tiny cars zoomed in to draw the crowd’s attention.
Except for one woman. “Angelina!” she cried from across the street. The police chief’s wife pushed to the curb. Her brown hair, average build, and even the rose-print sweater would have blended into the crowd except for her furiously waving arms.
“Margaret!” his mother called back as the parade wound down. When the final tuba player crossed in front of them, Margaret Hunter rushed across the street. She ran to Angelina and embraced her.
“I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.” She fixed the rose falling from her hair. Typical attire for the Rose Festival, another red rose decorated her handbag.
They fell into female banter as people dispersed. At the north end of the square, the parade ended in the high school parking lot.
“Come with me to the rose display,” Margaret urged.
His mother hedged, but couldn’t hide the excitement to see her friend. “Well, I came with Brett...”
“I don’t mind, Mama. Go ahead if you like.” Distracted, he scanned the crowds for Laura.
“I can take your mom home, if that’s all right with you,” Margaret assured him.
He nodded, watching the people behind her. “Whatever Mama wants to do.”
“You won’t be disappointed about the ice cream?”
Brett cocked his head at his mother. “What ice cream?”
She turned to her friend. “He offered me an ice cream, but I guess he forgot all about it.”
“Come on, then.” Margaret looped her arm. “We’ll go get an ice cream and leave Romeo here to find his Juliet.”
He stared at her. How the heck did she know? Bad enough his mother could read him like a book. It galled him to realize his emotions were so transparent to a virtual stranger.
The women dissolved in laughter. Angelina touched his arm. “See you at home, honey. Thanks. And good luck.”
Women! What made them so darned intuitive, anyway?
He wandered toward the food vendors, away from the path of mind-reading women. Food smells permeated his consciousness. He ordered greasy fries, a large Coke, and two sausage sandwiches with peppers and cheese. No onions today. He was hopeful.
On a bench outside The Book Worm bookstore, he devoured his food, remaining on the lookout for the blond with violet eyes.
All the shops on the square were open during the festival. Rosebuds had a huge display at the north end of the park. Of course, that’s where Laura would be. But also where his mother was headed.
A loud speaker introduced the Rose Queen at the gazebo. Leering down front was the Latino who’d been on the sidewalk with Laura a few weeks ago. When the buxom blond stepped forward in her revealing gown, he stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. “Hey, baby! You can be my queen any day. Come on down and meet the king.” Apparently Laura wasn’t his queen after all.
With a taste of disgust in his mouth, Brett wandered toward the tractor display. S
oon he was leaving this farm town, yet he couldn’t forget her. He had to find her, but the rose display was a madhouse. Besides, his plant-loving mother and her loud-mouth friend were probably in the vicinity. He’d have to wait.
Meandering into Sweet Melodies Music Shop, he browsed through classic rock. Private Eyes, an old single, became Violet Eyes as the song ran through his mind. Watching the rose display through the front window, he waited for the crowd to thin before resuming his search.
He ventured past the pond, laughing at a large male swan that squawked through the fence at a girl with a burger in her hand. On the far side of the water stood the rose display.
And there was Laura. Keep it casual and no one gets hurt.
She lifted a rose bush into a wagon filled with flowers. As she moved, long blond hair flowed down her back in soft waves. Her hips swayed beneath the rosy pink fabric of her skirt.
His unquenchable fire flamed hotter than ever. He drew closer, close enough to reach across the table and touch her. She thanked her departing customer, and turned to the next one.
Brett smiled at her.
Lilacs For Laura
Lilacs For Laura
Chapter 7—Red Flags
Startled, Laura drank in the twinkling blue eyes. A sexy grin dimpled Brett Mitchell’s cheek. Her heart hammered in her chest. She should ignore him, forget him, but couldn’t look away. Frozen, she stared like she had during the parade. She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to be hurt again. Yet something unexplainable, almost tangible, drew her to him.
Speechless, she twirled a strand of hair in her fingers.
Before she could figure out what to do, Rachel elbowed in beside him. “I can’t find Jake,” she blurted with exasperation. Amelia slept on her shoulder and Jessica pouted at her side.
“Jake?” Laura tore her eyes from Brett’s.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Rachel muttered. “I’m fed up with this.” With a tired grunt, she shifted Amelia onto her shoulder.
Laura caught Brett smiling at her sister, but Rachel was too distraught to notice. Let alone realize her interruption.
“My feet hurt,” Jessica whined.
“I know, honey.” Rachel patted her head, and then turned to Laura. “Could you help me and carry Jess to my car?”
“Sure.” Laura looked apologetically at Brett. It was the perfect escape. So why did she feel so let down? With his nod of understanding, she turned to her father. “Do you mind, Daddy?”
She was so tired of asking her parents’ permission. She didn’t mind so much when they were just her employers and she lived in her own apartment. But being under their roof again made her feel like a child.
“Go help your sister, I’ll finish up here,” her father said as he handed change to a customer. “Thank you very much, sir.”
The man left with a bouquet of roses, and John James bent to smooth his granddaughter’s hair. “Be good for your Mama, Jess. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
Laura hefted Jessica onto her hip and faced Brett at last. He grinned from ear to ear. “Hello stranger,” she said uncertainly. “You remember my sister Rachel.”
“Hi, Rachel. It’s been a while.” He started to reach for a handshake, but Rachel had her hands full.
Mischief flickered in her green eyes. “Yes. Good to see you again, Brett.” She smiled wearily.
“I’d be happy to help,” he said. “If she wants to, this big girl could ride on my shoulders.”
“I do! I do want to!” Jessica bounced on Laura’s hip.
Laura was touched to the core by his kind gesture. A surprising thrill tickled her as apprehension faded away. “Then I can take Amelia,” she said to her sister. “You’re exhausted.”
Relief flooded Rachel’s face. “That would be wonderful. If you’re sure you don’t mind?” she addressed them both.
“Not at all,” Laura and Brett replied in unison. They stared at each other for a split second before chuckling nervously. Uttering the same words at the same time was something her parents did. They’d been together so long, even their thoughts were in sync. Was this some kind of omen?
As Brett reached for Jessica, his hands grazed Laura’s waist. Tingles shot all the way to her toes. The muscles of his arms flexed as he hoisted the gleeful child onto his shoulders.
“Thank you so much,” Rachel said with a sigh of relief. She peeled sleeping Amelia from her body and handed her to Laura.
Shifting a large tote bag onto her shoulder, Rachel led them toward her car without hesitation, seeming anxious to get home. Brett bounced the whole way, making Jessica giggle.
Conflicting emotions battled within Laura. Why did he show up now? Where was he a month ago when she waited for him at the gazebo? And why was she entranced by those blue eyes when she wanted to forget he existed and spare the pain of rejection?
Falling slightly behind him and her jostling niece, Laura couldn’t help noticing his bouncing behind. He certainly deserved that “Best Butt” award. She suppressed a laugh but couldn’t tear her eyes away.
“You give good piggyback rides just like Daddy,” Jessica squealed with delight.
Jake was a good daddy—when he was around. Amelia stirred on Laura’s shoulder. Rachel shot a sad look at Jess and headed down South Street at the far end of the square. In the parking lot behind Hamilton Drug, she approached her old Toyota and dug the keys out of her purse.
“This is your car?” Brett asked with surprise.
Surely he wasn’t criticizing Rachel?
“Yeah.” She blushed. “It’s my old heap.”
“Oh no,” Brett disagreed. “It’s a reliable car. I was just surprised because I put struts on it last month.” He caught Laura’s eye. “The same day I ran into your sister.”
Laura gaped at him. How weird was that?
“Almost like a sign,” he said with a devilish grin.
“Maybe so.” Rachel winked at Laura as she took Amelia.
The toddler awoke. She rubbed sleepy eyes while her mother buckled her into the car seat. Then she saw Brett holding her sister and cried, “Where’s Daddy?”
Laura winced, and poor Brett looked stricken.
“I don’t know, honey,” Rachel answered in a huff. “Daddy’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“How will he get home?” Jessica wailed.
Laura held her breath. Please don’t throw a tantrum.
Rachel’s eyes turned cold. “He can walk.” She reached for her daughter on Brett’s shoulders.
Jessica clung to Brett. “I want him to put me in the car!”
He winced as if Rachel might be offended.
“Do you mind?” she asked with a tired smile.
“Nah.” He bounced to the passenger side and swept Jessica into the back seat with one smooth, fluid motion.
She giggled and demanded, “Buckle me!”
“Jessica, where are your manners?” Rachel exclaimed.
“Please?” the child whined.
As Brett complied, Laura’s defenses wore down. How did he do it? Stubborn Jessica was like putty in his hands. She watched for Rachel’s reaction, but her face showed only despair. Laura pulled her aside, out of earshot.
“You’re doing the right thing about Jake,” she assured her sister. “Let him walk.”
Rachel nodded. “I’ve had it with him.” Sadness and anger mingled in her face.
“Do you mean it?” Laura searched her eyes.
“I’m done.” A sigh of relief echoed Rachel’s words. “I’ve tried to help him for years. But he wants no part of it. He’s mired in his lifestyle and I can’t let my girls grow up that way,” she whispered, glancing at her daughters who were busy with Brett. “Divorce is inevitable. I’m hiring a lawyer.”
“I’m sorry.” Laura hugged her sister. “I can’t believe you stayed with him this long.” Then she bit her tongue in regret.
Rachel pulled back, fighting tears. “I love him, Laura. He’s my husband, my girls’ father. He
promised to do better, and I wanted to believe him.” Her eyes appealed for understanding.
“I know.” Laura touched her cheek. “But it never happens.”
Rachel nodded. “It’s time to get on with my life.”
Laura hugged her again.
“But you found a good one, there,” Rachel whispered as they separated, nudging her head toward Brett.
“Fingers in?” he asked Jessica in a silly voice as he checked her seat belt. Then he closed the passenger door soundly and his dark head rose above the car roof.
“Could be.” Despite Laura’s uncertainty about men in general, she couldn’t deny her attraction to this one. Her sister’s approval was a defining moment.
Rachel moved to the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Love you, sis. Let me know if you need anything.” Laura solemnly patted her shoulder and said goodbye to the girls. Her heart swelled as she looked across the roof at the sweet, handsome man smiling back at her.
****
Brett watched Laura’s face transform into a beaming smile as her sister drove away. He was still amazed at how the spunky tough girl had blossomed into an unattainable beauty. And her hesitation was melting before his eyes. Casual, keep it casual.
“Would you like to take a walk?” he asked.
“Okay.” Delightful sparks glittered in her violet eyes.
Hope filled Brett’s heart. Her eyes must change with her mood, because the sun was shining bright as ever. The sidewalk took them toward shops on the square. Wondering how to break the ice, he remembered women loved shopping. “Have you had a chance to hit any of the sales?”
“No.” She searched his face. “I wouldn’t mind checking out The Porcelain Teapot.”
It felt like a test, and he wouldn’t disappoint her. “Wherever you’d like to go, I’m there.”
The surprise on her face made him wonder if he was trying too hard. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off.
“That’s really nice of you,” she stammered. “Most men won’t go near a tearoom.”
“I’m not most men. Teapots don’t scare me,” he joked.
With her genuine laugh, his nervousness eased. They rounded the corner near Bob’s Barber Shop. Stripes spinning on the old-fashioned barber pole matched red and white flowers that the garden club had planted in the window box. The door swung open as they crossed the step.