Marry Me on Main Street

by LuAnn McLane

  “Well …” Susan brushed at a dark curl that had escaped the bun she’d piled on top of her head.

  “Well what, sweet pea?” Betsy scooped flour into a measuring cup and dumped it into a jar. “I just don’t get it.”

  “He was just being … you know, nice.”

  “Well …” Betsy layered a scoop of sugar into the jar and shook her head. “What’s wrong with being nice? Handsome? Single! And not to mention has a very nice tush.”

  “You just mentioned it.”

  “Haven’t you noticed?”

  “Did you really check out his butt?”

  “Hello … I’m old but I’m not dead.”

  “You’re not old.”

  Betsy aimed her scoop at Susan. “You’re avoiding the question.”

  Susan popped a chocolate chip into her mouth.

  “I’m waiting.” Betsy sat down on the stool next to the counter and crossed her arms. “I refuse to continue until you answer my simple question.”

  Susan swept her arm toward dozens of mason jars. “That’s not fair!”

  “Come on, girl. Danny brought up these jars for you. He asked you to lunch and then sent chicken soup to you, for pity’s sake.”

  Susan lifted her chin. “I thanked him.”

  Betsy still didn’t understand. “Danny Mayfield is one of the most eligible young men in Cricket Creek. What’s not to like?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like him.” She picked up another jar and went to work.

  Betsy arched an eyebrow and remained defiant. “So … ?”

  “I could ask you the same thing about John Clark. He’s nice, handsome, and single. Although I can’t say that I’ve checked out his tush.”

  “I have. It’s world-class.”

  “So …” Susan shot back at her. “What’s holding you back?”

  “He hasn’t asked me out,” Betsy replied, hoping she’d kept her blush in check. The mere mention of John got her pulse going but she didn’t want Susan to know it.

  “And if he did?”

  “He won’t. You didn’t answer the question.”

  “And neither did you,” Susan countered.

  “Since when did you get so feisty?”

  “Learning from you, I guess,” Susan answered with a grin. “Okay, if I answer your question, you have to answer mine.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” Betsy inhaled a deep breath of cookie mix–scented air. She really didn’t want to divulge her reasons, knowing Susan would give her grief, but she really wanted to know why her sweet friend wouldn’t give Danny the time of day. Susan was simply a delightful girl and in her mind would be perfect for a hardworking hometown boy like Danny. A bit on the shy side, Betsy just bet that outgoing Danny would bring out the playful, fun side of Susan that Betsy got glimpses of now and then. “Okay, if you must know …” She fidgeted on the stool.

  “I must.”

  “Of course I find John Clark attractive.” Betsy had to grin. “He was such a nerdy, quiet guy back in high school. Super smart. He went to Harvard, you know, and became a big-time lawyer up East.”

  “Oh yeah, I read that in the paper. He wanted to leave the city life behind and get back to his roots. I can understand that.”

  “He also left an ex-wife behind, after what I heard was a messy divorce.”

  Susan shrugged. “It happens.”

  Betsy decided to get straight to the point. “Susan, rumor is that John’s ex-wife was a much younger socialite. I think an actress or model or something. Sure, I find the man attractive, but let’s cut to the chase. A man like him wouldn’t be interested in a retired high school driver’s ed teacher.”

  “You don’t know what he’s interested in, and being a driver’s ed teacher was a good job. I’m sure you saved a lot of wrecks from happening.”

  “Sugar, he went to Harvard and I went to the school of hard knocks. I’m not even remotely in his league.” Betsy braced herself for Susan to argue the point.

  “John gives you extra things with your order most of the time and he even hand delivers lunch sometimes. He gets all flirty with you, Betsy, and you know it.”

  “That doesn’t mean he wants to date me. Some guys are just flirts.”

  “John doesn’t flirt with me.” Susan tapped her chest with her scoop. “And seriously, he doesn’t seem like the ‘flirt with any woman’ type of guy. He likes you.”

  “I’m a likeable person.”

  “He’s into you.”

  “He’s just being nice … Oh wait a doggone moment. You led me right into that one. Come on now, is that what you really think about Danny? That he’s only being nice and has no real interest?”

  Susan nibbled on the inside of her lip and started tying a bow with more concentration than needed. “Yes.”

  “You’ve got something more to say. I can tell. Spill, if you want the jars filled.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Susan sputtered.

  “I’m here on my own time, remember?” Betsy wouldn’t leave until she got what she wanted, and Susan knew it, but she lifted her chin. “Come on now. Let’s hear it.”

  Susan sighed. “Okay … I went to my senior prom with Danny.”

  Betsy felt a jolt of surprise. “Really? How come I didn’t know this?”

  “Well, it isn’t something that comes up in casual conversation.”

  “So were you and Danny dating?”

  Susan shook her head. “Nope.”

  “He must have had the hots for you to ask you to the prom.”

  “Um, not really.” Her cheeks turned pink. “My mom and Danny’s mother are friends. I found out that my mother asked Miranda Mayfield to see if Danny would take me to the prom. I had no idea and I was over the moon that he asked me. Shocked, really.”

  “I don’t see why. You’re a very pretty girl and sweet as can be.”

  “Betsy, I was so shy in high school and I had this horrible stutter.”

  “Oh, I do remember you had a little stutter when I taught you how to drive. A lot of students were brash and thought they knew it all but you were so careful behind the wheel.”

  “I think you were mistaking careful for scared out of my ever-loving mind.”

  Betsy felt a flash of sympathy. “Did you get made fun of, sweetie?”

  Susan shrugged. “Not too much. I was just embarrassed when it happened. And of course it was way worse when I was nervous about something. It was really bad when I was a child and so I was very quiet. And then I grew like a weed.” She shook her head. “I was always so much taller than all of the other girls. I felt like a freak.”

  “Oh Susan …”

  “I was so silent that my kindergarten teacher thought I had a hearing problem and insisted that I should get my hearing checked,” Susan said with a chuckle. “But she was helpful too and taught me to talk slowly. It was so hard for my mom and dad not to finish what I was trying to say. I had to learn to control the stuttering by talking, not having them speak for me.”

  “I can see how that would be difficult. Is there a known cause?”

  “No, and the bad thing is that although there’s evidence that stuttering is genetic, there isn’t any real cure or treatment other than speech therapy, which only helps a little bit. My parents were supportive and never critical because they knew it wasn’t something I could control. But it was funny—I wouldn’t stutter when I sang or read out loud, so I have a huge appreciation for music and reading. That’s why I collect so many record albums. Music still calms me down.” She pointed to the rocking chair. “I guess I didn’t think about it but when my mother read to me it was usually in a rocking chair. Maybe that’s why I love that one so much.”

  Betsy looked over at the rocking chair. “It sure is beautiful.” She turned back to Susan. “You’re certainly not a freak. You’re gorgeous and have your own unique sense of style. I hope you know that.” Betsy’s voice quivered with emotion.

  “Oh, Betsy.” Susan gave her a hug.

  �
�Being around you has helped ease the pain of missing Aubrey.”

  “Well, being around you has helped me come out of my shell a bit more. You’re just so full of life.”

  “That makes me happy to hear you say that. You should be so proud of Rhyme and Reason.”

  “Oh, having my own thrift shop is a dream come true. My mother hated to throw anything away. I just love it, especially this time of year.” Susan reached for another mason jar to fill.

  Betsy stood up and scooped up some chocolate chips. “I don’t think I’ve heard you stutter since I started working with you. If you did, I didn’t notice.”

  “I’ve pretty much overcome it but it pops out when I’m embarrassed or get super nervous. I did struggle with stuttering a bit more when I started high school because I was so shy.”

  “Oh sweetie …”

  “So do you see? Danny was only being nice to me back in high school. I had this crazy crush on him and when I found out the truth about why he asked me to the prom I was devastated.” She groaned, as if reliving the memory.

  “I can imagine. Does Danny know that you know the truth?”

  “Probably not.” Susan shrugged. “After I overheard my mom talking to Miranda about the whole thing I avoided Danny in the hallways. It wasn’t too difficult since we ran in different circles.” She chuckled. “Well, I had a few close friends, but I didn’t run in any circles. Even today if I see Danny in the grocery store, I duck down the next aisle.” She shook her head. “I’d be a fool to put myself through that humiliation again.”

  “Well, I don’t see how it’s the same situation. He didn’t make any promises to anyone about asking you to lunch.”

  Susan rolled her eyes. “I literally fell into his arms. It was purely an accident. I’m telling you, he was just being a good guy. He was so popular in high school but he was always friendly to everyone and not stuck up like some of the cool kids. It’s the same thing now.”

  “I don’t see it that way at all. But I can imagine how the whole prom thing could have you spooked.” Betsy thought about the situation for a moment. “I have to ask you, how was prom night?”

  “Magical.” Susan’s lips curved in a dreamy smile.

  “Oh, Susan …” Betsy sighed. “Wait, did he kiss you?”

  Susan’s cheeks flamed but she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

  “And?”

  “Well, it was bone-melting wonderful.”

  “Then Danny must have felt something too.”

  “Oh come on. He was a teenage boy. Kissing is all they had on their mind. I think he was caught up in the moment. Or maybe he didn’t want to disappoint me. Who knows?”

  “Or maybe he simply wanted to kiss you.” Betsy lifted one shoulder. “Danny is a grown man, making his own choices, so I get where you’re coming from but I think you should give him a chance.”

  “So why don’t you follow your own advice?”

  “Because although John Clark grew up in Cricket Creek, we’re still from two different worlds. I was a single mom barely making ends meet and he was a high-powered corporate lawyer.”

  “And now he’s divorced and owns the deli next door. And Aubrey is away at college. You’re in a different time in your life and so is he. Maybe you should flirt back and see where it takes you.”

  “No way. Like I already told you, John couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like me. Plus, he obviously goes for younger women. I think we all know that the whole ‘age is just a number’ thing is a bunch of bull.”

  “Well, obviously he made a mistake,” Susan said with a slight shrug.

  “Yeah, but what does that say about him?”

  Susan tilted her head. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing more than he fell in love with the wrong person. Or that the age difference became wider as he got older?”

  “Ah, Susan, you’re a very fair-minded person,” Betsy said.

  “I try to be. I mean, he’s obviously trying to simplify his life by coming back to Cricket Creek,” Susan said.

  “True.” Betsy clipped another bit of raffia. “I think we need more of this stuff,” she said, trying to divert the conversation.

  Susan frowned at the large pile of decorations. “I can pick up more later today.”

  Betsy nodded absently. Sometimes she craved being in the arms of a man and she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a long, hot kiss. She’d actually considered getting back into dating lately but the only man she was interested in owned the deli next door.

  “So, what would you do if John asked you to go out?” Susan asked.

  “He’s not going to!”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “Susan, I’ve seen pictures of his ex-wife.”

  “She’s his ex-wife for a reason.”

  Betsy rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know you could be this stubborn.”

  “I’m just pointing out the facts.”

  “Humph,” Betsy said.

  “Okay, let’s play truth or dare.”

  “What’s gotten into you? Have you been hitting the eggnog?” Betsy shook her head at her normally low-key young boss.

  “No, but I think it’s a great idea.” Susan headed over to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggnog. “Nice, almost full.”

  “Are you adding bourbon?” Betsy asked hopefully. “My house is within walking distance, so I don’t need to worry about driving.”

  Susan pulled two glasses from the cabinet. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

  “You started this whole thing. Besides, it’s our day off,” Betsy said.

  “I don’t even know if I have bourbon.”

  “Are you gonna look? If not, if you buy, I’ll fly.”

  “Deal.” Susan laughed. To Betsy’s delight, Susan opened a door and rooted around. “Well, what do you know?” She turned around with a full bottle clutched in her hand.

  “Buffalo Trace. Very nice. Let’s crank up the Christmas music and crack that baby open.”

  A minute later they both had a stiff drink in their hand.

  Betsy tapped her glass to Susan’s. “Cheers.”

  “What are we drinking to?” Susan asked.

  Betsy nibbled on the inside of her lip. “Christmas?”

  “How about to not being scaredy-cats,” Susan suggested.

  “Did you just say scaredy-cat?”

  “Yeah, and I’m fed up with being one.”

  “I taught driver’s ed to teenagers. I’m not a scaredy-cat. And you own your own business. That takes guts.”

  “You know what I’m referring to. Our love lives. Or lack thereof.”

  Betsy’s heart beat like she’d been running a marathon. She would have declined the challenge but she really thought Danny was the right kind of guy for Susan. So even though she didn’t have any intention of pursuing John Clark, she nodded and tapped her glass to Susan’s and took a healthy swallow. “Holy moly, did you put any eggnog with that bourbon?”

  “A little,” Susan replied. “You said you wanted a stiff drink.”

  “I say a lot of things.”

  “Well, let’s stop saying and start doing. Put your money where your mouth is.”

  “Wait, so does this mean that if Danny asks you out again, you’ll accept?”

  Susan looked down at her glass, studying the contents, and then back at Betsy. “Maybe …” she replied and then grinned. “Ask me again after I finish this eggnog.”

  “You mean bourbon with a splash of eggnog.”

  Susan laughed and although Betsy could see the doubt in her friend’s eyes, this was a start. Shy Susan was beginning to blossom, and she was a sight to behold.

  4

  It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

  John hummed along with the piped-in Christmas music while he wrapped up the day-old loaves of bread to freeze. On Friday he’d take the package to the Cricket Creek soup kitchen over on Third Street. After delivering the bread he usually hung around and helped ser
ve dinner to those less fortunate. Now that colder weather had arrived and the holidays were upon them, the attendance at the soup kitchen was brisk, and so John started baking more bread than he knew he’d need to make sure there would be a big surplus by the end of the week.

  After putting the bread in the walk-in freezer he began that afternoon’s daily cleanup. Although the deli remained open seven days a week, he was usually buttoned up by no later than three o’clock since he was only open for lunch. He’d considered taking Mondays off after he’d hired Stephanie, but the control freak in him balked at the idea. In truth, working at his deli felt more like fun than a real job. Flipping the towel from his shoulder, he wiped down the counter and then stepped back to survey the gleaming kitchen. Those who knew him in Boston had given him a month in Cricket Creek before he returned to the city. Now that nearly a year had passed, John knew for certain he’d made the right decision to return to his hometown. Instead of arguing for a living, he chatted and smiled with friendly customers. He fell asleep at night from a healthy kind of exhaustion and he could feel his personality getting softer and opening up at the same time. He used to avoid small talk and now he enjoyed interaction with people.

  Picking up a candy cane from the basket that Stephanie had refilled, he ripped off the plastic and took a bite. He rolled the cool peppermint around on his tongue, trying not to feel guilty that he was eating sweets. Growing up, his college professor parents had frowned upon sugary treats and television, preaching healthy eating over junk food and reading over mindless cartoons. As a result, John became serious and quiet, different from the other boisterous boys at school. Although he wasn’t really poked fun at, he felt like an outsider, preferring to read at recess rather than play tag or four square.

  Popping the rest of the miniature candy cane in his mouth, John stood back and observed the holiday decorations Stephanie had put up before leaving. She’d hummed while she’d put ornaments on the small Christmas tree over in the corner but there was a sadness about her that John understood. The first Christmas after a divorce was tough. He walked over and tacked up a loose loop of silver garland. Over the years, Christmas had become all about buying Rachel and his parents expensive gifts, all of them purchased by his personal assistant. He’d worked all the way up until Christmas Eve and rarely made the trek from Boston to Cricket Creek for the holidays.