by Dianne Miley
Someone burst out the door and ran smack into them.
Laura careened and Brett caught her by the waist.
“Hey, Laura!” It was the Latino, right in her face.
Her eyes narrowed and she shoved him away. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” Laura shrunk back, crossing her arms over her chest, while the guy looked her up and down.
Brett wondered if they’d had a nasty break up. He stepped in front of Laura defensively.
“I’m always watching where I’m going.” Cockiness filled the guy’s voice. He straightened his collar and stood tall, giving Brett the once-over. “Looks like you’re going someplace yourself, sis.”
What was that “sis” thing about? Dark vibes emanated from him. But Laura stood her ground.
“It’s none of your business,” she snarled. “So why don’t you be on your way.” She didn’t back off an inch.
He laughed maliciously and stepped away to the curb. Strutting across the street, he leered at a woman who passed by.
“Who was that?” Brett asked, barely stifling his anger. That dude gave him a bad feeling from the beginning.
“Jake the Snake.” Her jaw clenched.
“You mean—”
“Yeah, Rachel’s husband. He’s a scumbag.”
“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. Poor Rachel had a weakness for bad boys back in high school. She and Laura were so alike, yet so different.
Relief washed over him. At least that jerk wasn’t Laura’s ex-boyfriend. Yet he was her brother-in-law. That meant there was no getting rid of him. Protectiveness welled in Brett. He wanted to watch out for her, but by autumn, he’d be gone.
Brett watched Jake head toward the drug store and chuckled.
Still riled, Laura glared at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Guess he’ll be walking.” He pointed toward the empty space where the Toyota had been parked.
“I like your sense of humor.” She smiled, and her steps lightened. Her hand brushed against his.
“Good.” He grasped her hand. She sucked in a breath and entwined her fingers with his. Warmth radiated straight to his heart. “Maybe you’ll find something else you like about me,” he suggested. “Say, next weekend over dinner?”
A fleeting glimpse of confusion crossed her features before a smile spread over her face. “How could I say no?”
Brett’s heart soared.
****
On Saturday evening, Brett dressed in black slacks and a royal blue button-down shirt. Hoping to impress Laura, he combed and re-combed his hair.
“Your hair is perfect,” his mother teased from the bathroom doorway, touching the dark curls near his collar.
“You’re biased.” He smiled in the mirror at her.
“Maybe so.” She laughed and leaned against the doorjamb with her arms folded. “That shirt brings out your blue eyes.”
“Huh, I wonder if she’ll notice.”
“No doubt she’s already noticed,” Angelina affirmed. “She said yes, didn’t she?”
“You mean it’s not my sparkling personality?”
“Of course, dear.” She chuckled. “But the baby blues don’t hurt. And neither does that spicy cologne you’re wearing.”
“Okay.” Enough of this conversation. He turned to her and kissed both smooth cheeks. “Time to go.”
“Trust your heart, honey.” She patted him on the back as he went by. “Have a good time, but remember to be responsible.”
“It’s our first date, Mama!” With a smile, Brett waved off her abstinence speech and headed out the door. It was just a date, nothing serious. He certainly wouldn’t jump in the back seat with her, even if he had one. He climbed into the old ‘Vette as his father’s pickup pulled into the drive. Revving the engine, he waved goodbye. Anxious to see Laura, he didn’t need his father holding him up. Or ruining his good mood.
A bright ball of sun hung in the western sky as he turned onto Rose Hill Drive, above wild pink roses covering the rolling countryside. He wondered which came first, the street name or the flowers. Past an old ramshackle house, the farmhouse sat between a quaint cottage and Chad’s colonial.
Gardens filled the front yard and greenhouses filled the back. The red barn stood near the tree line with fenced pastures stretching for acres.
Pulling onto the circular drive in front of the house, he passed rose gardens and a fountain flowing beneath a statue of kissing children. Roses everywhere, the fragrance drifted over him as he stepped onto the wrap-around porch. After only one knock on the screened gingerbread door, Laura’s father limped toward him with warm blue eyes and a welcoming smile.
“Good evening.” He pushed the door open. “Come on in.”
“Thank you, Mr. James.” Brett shook his hand firmly.
“Please, call me John.” He motioned Brett in.
“Yes, sir.” Brett nodded and entered the homiest room he’d ever seen. His mother kept a neat and cozy house, but this sprawling home overflowed with comforts.
Flowered pillows and soft afghans covered the overstuffed sofas and chairs. Old family photos decorated the mantle of an immense stone fireplace, and a collection of fat candles burned on the summer hearth. Garden paintings hung on the walls and a colorful bouquet of fresh flowers sat on the coffee table.
“Have a seat,” Mr. James offered.
Brett moved toward the closest chair. Then he caught sight of Laura descending the stairway and stopped mid-step.
Long blond curls swept off her face and cascaded over her shoulders. A deep blue dress clung to her shapely curves, its neckline plunging just enough to entice him. Her blue violet eyes and glossy pink lips glistened in the evening sunlight.
“Hello, Brett.” Motioning to his shirt, she said, “I see we’re color coordinated.”
“Yeah. We go together like peas and carrots,” he said with a nervous grin. This felt like another weird omen—like saying the same words at the same time. Keep it casual...
Laura’s laughter joined another’s from the kitchen at the back of the house. Her mother’s beaming face came around the wide doorway. Her hair was much shorter than Laura’s, but just as thick and blond. She had the same green eyes as Rachel.
“You must be Brett.” She stepped into the room.
“Yes, ma’am.” He moved toward her with an outstretched hand and offered a brief shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Have a seat,” she insisted.
Looking to Laura, he waited for her to sit on the sofa before perching beside her at the edge of the cushion.
“So I hear you’re working for my son now.” John’s voice rose in question as he absently rubbed one knee.
“Uh, yeah.” Brett felt like an odd conversation piece.
“What?” Laura asked. “I thought you worked for your dad.”
“Not anymore.” Put on the spot, Brett fidgeted beneath her scrutiny. “Didn’t Chad tell you I’m working for him?”
“No.” She looked at her father with feisty irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I assumed you knew.” John shrugged. “But then, you know how tight-lipped Chad is. I had to outright ask him if he’d found help yet.” Shaking his head, he said, “Then I had to ask if it was anyone I knew before he told me it was Wayne’s son.”
“That brother of mine,” Laura huffed. “Guess I can’t accuse him of matchmaking anyway.”
Brett looked at the floor. She had no idea how Chad had encouraged him to ask her out. He checked his watch nervously.
“Reservations at seven?” Laura seemed to read his mind.
“Yes.” Relief washed over him as she stood. He hadn’t dated much, and parent interviews made him squirm. Thankfully, Laura’s father was far nicer than his.
“We’d better go, then. Good night, Mama, Daddy.” She bent to kiss each of them. The public display of affection made Brett uneasy. Even with his Italian mother, endearment remained private. Probably his Dad’s rule.
�
��Behave, you two,” John teased, eliciting a good-natured smack from his wife.
After a short drive to the southwest corner of the square, they sat in a quiet booth at Devon’s and opened their menus.
“So, you’re a carpenter as well as a mechanic?” she asked.
Taken aback, he stammered, “Not really.” He set down the menu. “I just finished my degree in mechanical engineering.” Embarrassed that it took him seven years to graduate, he felt the need to explain. “I worked and saved for a year before starting college, and then attended part-time because I worked my way through.”
Her nod conveyed empathy but confusion filled her eyes.
“I haven’t been able to find a job in my field. So right now, I need temporary employment.”
In her puzzled expression, he saw the dreaded question.
“Then why didn’t you stay with your father?”
He gave her a slow smile. “No disrespect meant to my father, but he’s not easy to work with.”
“Oh.” Her brows rose a bit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
Like it was the first time? “No big deal,” he said with a laugh. “My dad’s temper is common knowledge. I may look like him, but I take after my mom,” he joked.
Visible relief showed on her face. “I guess I’m lucky. I love working with my parents.” Then she bit her lip, apparently regretting the remark. She twirled a long curl on her shoulder.
“That’s nice.” What else could he say?
As if sensing his discomfort, she changed the subject quickly. “So how do you like working with my brother?”
“Chad’s great.” But the job stunk. He measured his words. “But I’m no carpenter.”
“Ah.” She searched his face. “Does that mean you don’t like carpentry, or you’re not very good at it?”
He chuckled. “You don’t pull any punches do you?”
Her cheeks turned pink as she toyed with the strand of hair. “Not usually.”
With a laugh, he said, “Well, I’m not particularly good at it, but I get by. Chad does the detail work himself.” He looked at her straight on. “And don’t you dare tell your brother this, but I hate working with wood.”
A hint of violet sparkled in her eyes. “Your dad must be a real bear if you’re desperate enough to do something you hate.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.”
“Hmm.” Again, she had the regretful expression for speaking her mind. “So what kind of engineering job are you looking for?”
Now she was getting to the heart of the matter. He enjoyed her interest—even if her questions were relentless.
“I’d like to design automobile chassis. I know cars and I enjoy working with them.”
“I don’t know of any jobs like that around here.” She looked confused.
Whoa. Dangerous territory. Brett rubbed his chin nervously and fought the urge to frown. “I guess that’s why I haven’t found anything yet. I’m looking online now.” He watched her face and saw uncertainty there. “So tell me about yourself.”
“Well, I graduated from Riverside Community College with an associate degree in business management and marketing. I’d like to expand the flower shop by offering more products and services.” She paused and looked up at him.
“The flower shop has been in my family for three generations,” she continued. “My grandparents helped build this town, and Rosebuds was a big part of that. My brother and sister left the business, but I never will.”
“I see.” He nodded dumbly. A red flag shot up in his mind. She wasn’t planning on leaving Crystal Falls. Ever. He felt the blood drain from his face. But what difference did it make? Keep it casual, remember? Jumbled emotions—disappointment, loss, fear and denial—formed a knot in his stomach.
Laura stared at him a moment, then asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Uh—” What was wrong? He wanted a fun summer fling. It’s not like he planned to marry her. So why was he upset that she never planned to leave? He struggled to hide his feelings behind a mask of puzzlement. “Why did your brother and sister leave?”
“Well, Chad just isn’t the gardening type, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” She paused. “Rachel didn’t want to leave, but had no choice. One reason I want to expand the flower shop is to make enough profit to hire her back.”
“She left for money?” He found himself caring far too much.
Laura frowned. “Sort of. Mostly because of Jake.”
“Oh.” Brett cast a gently probing look, hoping for juicy details. But she didn’t elaborate. Since she made no bones about asking him questions, he asked, “So what happened?”
Laura waved a hand. “It’s a long story.”
Brett grinned. His turn to be relentless. “I’ve got time.”
Laughing, she conceded. “Well, Jake can be a real charmer. Rachel fell head over heels for him and wound up pregnant.”
“Ah.” He sucked in a breath. “Rough start.”
“Yeah. So Jake ‘did the right thing’ by marrying her.” She rolled her eyes.
“I take it that hasn’t worked out so well.”
Laura sighed. “At first we really liked Jake. He had a rough childhood, you know? Rachel saw the wounded little boy behind the charm. Our family took him in and really wanted to help him.” Turmoil stirred in her expression.
Brett understood caring for someone who abused you in return. “So what went wrong?”
“Well—” She thought a moment. “I guess it all started when Jessica was born. Jake couldn’t handle the responsibility. He wanted to have fun. Babies are a lot of work.”
“I’m sure they are.”
Laura shrugged. “They couldn’t afford daycare. Rachel was working at the flower shop and Jake worked at a swanky restaurant in Riverside. He took an evening shift so someone would always be home with the baby.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“Not for long, though. Jake started bartending. That’s what did him in.” Her eyes saddened.
“Drinking?”
“Yeah.” She frowned, picking at the corner of her menu. “A guy with a hangover isn’t a reliable father. Rachel had to hire a sitter she couldn’t really afford.”
“That’s a shame. But I thought bartenders made pretty good money at those fancy places.”
“Ha! Jake drank his paychecks and chased the female customers. Soon he was fired, and Rachel was really strapped.”
Outrage mushroomed in Brett. As much as Wayne ranted and drank, he’d always provided for his family. Jake was a sorry excuse for a husband. Even worse, he neglected his children.
Heat rose to Brett’s face, and Laura looked as if she were sorry she’d confided in him. Taking a deep breath, he stuffed his anger and attempted rational conversation. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said with feeling.
“Yeah, me too.” She searched his face.
“So Rachel took another job?” he asked gently, hoping she wouldn’t clam up.
She shrugged. “She stayed until she got pregnant again. On what Rosebuds pays, she couldn’t support two babies and Jake. Now she’s working as a secretary up in Springfield, and working night shift at the pizzeria too.”
Brett struggled to keep the gall from his voice. “Doesn’t Jake work at all?”
A flash of anger crossed her face. “Oh, he’s had a long string of bartending jobs. The bars grow seedier as time goes on. And so do the women.”
The red flag waved violently. Another major problem. Jake.
Lilacs For Laura
Lilacs For Laura
Chapter 8—Hot Tea and Scones
Laura caught a scowl on Brett’s face, but it quickly disappeared. She needed to know if she could trust him. His reaction to Jake left her more confused than before.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off about Jake.”
“That’s okay. I asked. I just feel bad for Rachel.”
It seemed more than that by the conflicted e
xpression he was trying to hide. Time for a subject change. Fast.
“One of these days things will straighten out. If Rachel and I ran the shop together,” she explained, “Mama and Daddy could spend more time growing flower stock at home. They both love gardening. It’d be like semi-retirement for them.”
“It’s nice they work together like that.” Brett nodded, looking somber.
She wondered how his parents got along given his father’s disposition. When Brett picked up his menu, Laura knew she’d hit a nerve. “Have you decided what to get?” she asked.
“Prime rib,” he replied. “It’s excellent here.”
“True. But I’d like chicken parmesan. I love Italian food.”
He smiled. “My mom’s Italian. She makes a mean lasagna.”
“Yum. Maybe I can taste it sometime,” she hinted hopefully.
“Yeah, maybe,” Brett hedged.
His sudden hesitance gave Laura the distinct feeling it wouldn’t be happening. Was it Jake, or something else? Maybe he was just ashamed of his father.
Worse yet, maybe he didn’t want her to meet his parents at all. If he was looking for a job online, maybe he had no intention of sticking around. His face had turned white when she said she’d never leave Crystal Falls.
Brett touched her hand. The electricity sent a shiver down her spine. She must have misread him.
“Are you ready to order?” he asked.
She shook off the feeling and noticed their waiter was, well, waiting. They ordered and he wandered off.
When their food arrived, Brett discreetly bowed his head before eating. Thinking she should do the same, Laura was so impacted that she couldn’t stop staring.
Sticking to safe subjects during the meal, she ate her salad, most of the chicken, and a few forkfuls of pasta. Brett devoured wedding soup, Caesar salad, prime rib, Fettuccini Alfredo, and a loaf of garlic bread. From the dessert tray, he chose a thick slice of chocolate torte. Laura passed.
“No dessert?” he asked.