by Lori Ryan
“He kissed me. Then apologized. Trust me. It’s awkward.”
“And he let you pick out his new car.” Ashley said, a sly smile taking over the dark-haired woman’s features.
“It really wasn’t a big deal,” Phoebe said.
“Ha!” The fact this came from Laura instead of Ashley was a little surprising.
Ashley pointed to Laura. “What she said. It’s a very big deal.”
“Shane spends months researching cars when it’s time for a new one. He makes charts, compares features, reviews safety reports. He doesn’t turn it over to someone else.”
Phoebe looked at Laura and felt her jaw drop. “He makes charts?”
Ashley shrugged and answered for Laura. “He’s a little uptight.”
Her mind flashed back to the kiss in the parking lot and Phoebe wanted to argue. That man was anything but uptight. He’d been hot with just that little bit of control that makes the kiss sexy as sin and lets you know he’d be the one in control in the bedroom, but in a good way. In a delicious way. Phoebe shivered and Ashley caught it, pointing a finger at her this time, waving it but not saying anything. She didn’t need to say anything. Her look was saying it all.
Phoebe tipped her head back and let out a groan. “I don’t know what to do. I love Evers, I love my job. It’s not like there are a ton of law firms here. I can’t just go find a new job if things don’t work out.”
“All true.” Ashley nodded. “All valid, true points.”
Laura looked at Phoebe. “But, if you don’t see where anything goes with him, will you still be able to keep working there, or have things already gone beyond that point?”
“Oh, yeah, okay,” Ashley said with a very unhelpful nod, “that’s a good point, too. She’s got you there.”
“You’re two of the least helpful people I could have come to, aren’t you?”
Laura and Ashley laughed at that, but Laura was quick to offer a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t think there’s an easy answer here.”
Phoebe looked down at the now-sleeping pile of fur in her lap. Maybe she could just stay here with the puppies and not face the real world.
Yeah. Puppies good. World bad.
14
May the roof above you never fall in and those gathered beneath it never fall out.
Irish proverb recorded in Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Phoebe went back to the journal as soon as she climbed into bed that night. So far, nothing in it indicated Fiona was a woman who would consider committing suicide. Even when she and her daughter were not getting along, Fiona seemed determined to push through life, finding the good instead of looking for the bad.
Of course, she wasn’t routine in her writing. Maybe the periods where the journal entries stopped were times she was depressed or dealing with things she couldn’t face head on.
But Phoebe didn’t think so. Fiona inspired her with her strength and her ability to see good in herself and those around her.
January 1, 2010 Bet you thought I was gone for good. I’ve been a little remiss in my writing. I’ve been busy. It turns out, finding a hobby wasn’t the key to finding myself. Simply living with myself for a while was the key. I’ve learned a lot about myself.
For one thing, I like me. A lot. I’m a good friend. If I ever forget that, Beverly lets me know. She and I have started going to the senior center in town. A few of the people that go there are bat-crap crazy, but the woman who runs it is nice. Miriam Green. Honestly, she’s no spring chicken herself, but she’s the kind of person who likes getting everyone together for organized games. She’s got that cheerleader personality. Beverly and I lack that, but we make up for our lack of cheerleading with snide comments everyone really knows are meant to be supportive.
The center gives us someplace to go. I’m beginning to realize spending my life as a homemaker left me without much to do once the people who made up the home are gone. Emmaline has begun accepting my invitations to lunch from time-to-time, but there’s a void between us now that I can’t seem to fill. I’d give anything to have our old relationship back. To know she loved me the way she used to love me. To know she didn’t still blame me for breaking up what she always saw as a perfect family.
She likes her new job but she’s thinking about going back to school for an advanced degree. She says she needs that to compete with the men in her field. I don’t think she’ll ever know how proud I am of her. She sees what she wants and she’s going for it. No hesitation, no leaning on someone else. No holding back. I envy her that.
I’ll have to figure out a way to show her how proud I am of her. I’ve always thought showing is more important than telling, although the telling is important, too.
Bev and I are going to make chocolate martinis on the porch soon, so I’ve got to run! Ta ta, dear diary!
15
It’s a hard thing, to let yourself believe you are enough.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
“Shane?”
Shane looked up to find Margaret fanning herself in his office doorway. He scanned her from head to toe. She didn’t look sick or injured, other than the fanning. “Everything okay?”
“There’s someone here looking for Phoebe. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him she’s down at Tiny’s for lunch.”
“Why are you fanning yourself?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered if he should have asked them. Maybe he didn’t want to know the answer. Or maybe this was one of those situations where he was supposed to pretend he didn’t see her doing it.
“You’ll see.” Was all she said as she turned and walked out to the lobby, apparently expecting him to follow.
He did.
A large tattooed man clad in leather from head to toe stood looking expectantly at Margaret as she walked back behind her desk. It wasn’t hard to see the flush that crept up her face as the man smiled at her, and Shane would have to be an idiot not to see why. Not that he spent a lot of time looking at other men, but this guy had that look women went crazy over.
Dark hair and a scar over one eyebrow that he would bet had made him even more appealing to women rather than detracting from the man’s looks. To top it off, he was large and looked like his muscles hadn’t been earned in a gym. They likely came from hours of hard riding on the bike Shane would bet the man had out front.
He also had a feeling he knew exactly who he was.
“Hi, I’m Shane Bishop. Margaret tells me you’re here for Phoebe.” Shane cringed internally, thinking he sounded like an overprotective father. Or a dick.
The man didn’t seem to notice. He grinned and offered a handshake. “Ray Eisnett. Pleasure to meet you. I was hoping to catch Phoebe, but I’m beginning to gather she’s not around.”
“She should be back—”
“Ray!” This was accompanied by a gasp. “What in the world?”
Shane tilted to look around the large man and saw Phoebe standing stock still in the entrance to the law firm.
“Hey, beautiful! How’s my girl?” And then Ray was spinning Phoebe around in his arms with one hand on her ass, as she slapped at his shoulder to put her down.
Only she was grinning as hard as Ray was.
“You can’t just pop in at my office,” she hissed as the large man set her down.
“It’s not a problem, Phoebe,” Shane said, but he found he had to actively loosen the tension in his jaw as he smiled. “Nice to meet you, Ray.”
He didn’t wait to find out what the visit was about. He turned and walked back into his office, not wanting to watch the other man’s hands on Phoebe a minute longer.
“Idiot.” He said this to himself, but started when Margaret hissed a reply from behind him.
“He’s not an idiot. He’s a nice man.”
“I wasn’t…” He shook his head. He couldn’t explain to his receptionist that he was calling himself an idiot for thinking he had any right to throw the man through the nearest wall just for touching Phoebe. “What ar
e you doing?”
“I’m giving them some privacy,” she whispered as she looked through the crack she’d left when she’d almost closed his door.
“Actually, it looks like you’re not.” He said this as he went and planted his ass in his desk chair. No way in hell he was going to look through that slit in the door with Margaret.
Margaret looked back at him, her brows nearly on the ceiling. “He’s asking her to come back to him!”
Shane ground his teeth, remembering the conversation he’d had when he called Ray’s Tattoo Parlor for a reference. The man had asked him to tell Phoebe he wanted her back. Apparently, he’d come to town to ask himself this time.
“He’s kissing her!” Margaret hissed, this time, not turning around. Apparently, she didn’t want to miss the show. “Oh my God.”
“What?” He asked, despite every neuron in his brain screaming at him to keep his mouth shut.
“The man can kiss, that’s all. I think I felt that.”
Shane swore under his breath.
“She pushed him away!”
It was all kinds of wrong that Shane wanted to jump up and watch this part.
Screw it. He did.
With his height and Margaret’s lack of it, it was an easy matter for him to look through the door in the space above Margaret. There was Ray, holding Phoebe’s hands as she shook her head at him. She put her hand on his chest and rubbed it, but there was a big brother or best friend quality to the touch.
“Good for her,” Margaret whispered. “She can do better.”
“A minute ago, you couldn’t pick your tongue up off the floor.” Shane didn’t take his eyes off Phoebe and Ray. They were hugging now, and he was walking out. “Now you think she can do better?”
Margaret shut the door. “I know, but Phoebe’s special. She can do much better than him.”
If Margaret thought Tattoo Ray wasn’t good enough for Phoebe, just who did she think would be enough?
“You can come out now, you two!” Phoebe’s tone said she wasn’t upset they’d been listening.
Margaret led the way. “What did he want?” She asked the question with the air of someone who had no idea what had taken place.
Phoebe snorted. “Please, like you didn’t see the entire thing.”
“It was all her.” Shane pointed to Margaret.
“Traitor,” Margaret shot back at him.
Phoebe waved her hand at the two of them in dismissal. “Don’t sweat it. Ray shows up from time to time to ask me to come back to him. The last time we actually dated was six years ago.”
Shane could see that. Phoebe left an impression on a man.
Margaret grinned and pulled Phoebe closer. “Come on, admit it. Sometimes you’re tempted to just climb on that Harley and take him for a ride, aren’t you?”
Phoebe’s cheeks colored as she burst out laughing. She was shaking her head when she walked away.
Margaret turned to Shane with a shrug. “What? I’m old. I have to live vicariously.”
16
Don’t put off finding yourself. The sooner you do it, the sooner you’ll be able to share yourself with others.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
“You’re a saint for coming.” Ashley looped her arm in Phoebe’s as they walked into the high school together. “Laura is busy with the puppies and Katelyn and John are having a date night.”
Phoebe wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be here. “You’re kind of scaring me.”
Ashley laughed at that. “No, it’s not so bad. Honestly, the Junes and Mindy are sweet. They don’t bite at all. They just always seem so put together, you know? Sometimes, I swear they must have a makeup and wardrobe crew at their houses. I needed a real person with me for a buffer.”
“Gee, thanks,” Phoebe deadpanned as Ashley led her down a long hall. The school was closed but they’d been allowed the use of the teacher’s lounge for the meeting.
“Why don’t you guys just use one of the rooms at the library?” Phoebe had been inside the library and it had rooms that were specifically intended for meetings. Ashley had told her they held book clubs and knitting groups, and all kinds of stuff in the library.
“Oh, June teaches at the school, and she was involved with this before I was. Since she already had this all set up, we continued it here.”
Phoebe opened her mouth to ask which June, since she’d been told there were two of them, but didn’t get the words out.
“Ash, you’re here!”
Both women turned to see a blonde in a perfectly-coordinated skirt and top with a cardigan sweater buttoned over her shoulders. Phoebe really didn’t know people did that anymore, but on this woman, it looked right.
Phoebe reached up to touch her hair where she was sure she’d find tendrils and curls slipping loose of the clips she’d put in it earlier. This woman’s hair was perfect, laying just so on her shoulders, without a fly-away to be seen anywhere.
“Well, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Ashley laughed. “June Leary, this is Phoebe Joy. She—”
June smiled brightly and put out her hand. “I know exactly who she is! I’ve been dying to meet you. We need more young people in this town. I’m June. June Leary. You’ll meet my bestie, June Jubie and my other bestie, Mindy Mason, in a few minutes. I told Mindy we need to recruit you for the pageant. You’ll be the perfect person to help us get the pageant off the ground.”
Phoebe was surprised the woman stopped to take a breath, but she didn’t have time to process anything long enough to form a response. Because Ashley was now behind June shaking her head and mouthing the word no in an enormously exaggerated manner.
“Oh, uh, I…”
“Don’t worry.” June pulled Phoebe into what looked like the teacher’s lounge, with a large table in the center. “I’ll tell you all about that later. Tonight, we’re here to work on the summer baskets.”
“We should talk about the Fall festival, too. I’ve got a few ideas for bringing in out-of-town authors if Ashley is willing to help us with that.” Phoebe turned toward the source of the voice to see two other women who looked remarkably like June as far as style, if not looks.
The one with the hair that could more closely be called honey brown than blonde stuck her hand Phoebe’s way. “I’m Mindy Mason. You must be Phoebe.”
“Yes, hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m the other June,” said the woman with the lighter hair. “June Jubie. Yes, my parents really did that to me!” She didn’t seem to mind in the least as she smiled and squeezed Phoebe’s hand.
The next hour and twenty minutes were spent with talk of organizing summer baskets of food and toys for local families in need. They discussed which businesses had donated what the year before, and how to get them to donate again. They talked about organizing lists of families with children who would need toys in their baskets and those without children who’d rather forego the toys for extra food. There were also ideas and plans for the Fall Festival and Phoebe truly hoped they weren’t the only ones who would be running the event. It sounded like there was enough for ten people to do, not the four who sat here. Then she remembered Katelyn and Laura would normally be here, as well. Even so, the task list seemed enormous.
Ashley had been right. The Junes and Mindy were nice. They were just intense. That was the best way Phoebe could think to describe it. Intense. She had a feeling she saw them the same way Ashley did—as women she would be happy to be friendly with, but not women she saw herself as being besties with, as June had put it.
All in all, though, the evening wasn’t bad and she went home feeling happy she’d come to Evers, Texas. She had had friends in Austin, of course. They’d gone to movies or concerts and restaurants together. But there wasn’t this sense of community. There wasn’t the sense that you could put your energy into your town and make it better in some way. That you had something worthwhile to add to it.
It felt really…well, really nice. The word wasn’t nea
rly strong enough, but when you boiled it right down, that’s what it was. Of course, since she’d just volunteered to be in charge of decorating one hundred cardboard boxes to look like baskets, she might change her mind on that. As it turned out, real baskets were too pricey to use. If they used cardboard boxes, they could shift more money to food and household goods.
“Pinterest, here I come,” Phoebe murmured as she sat in front of her computer. “I am sooo going to regret this,” she said to the empty room, because apparently, wrapping hundreds of yards of jute string around empty boxes was somewhere in her future.
17
There’s nothing so bad that it couldn’t be worse.
Irish Proverb recorded in Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Shane looked up as Beverly Newman entered his office. He stood and crossed the room, leading her to a chair. “Hi, Beverly. Margaret said you needed to see me today, but she didn’t say why.”
She patted his arm as he sat in the chair next to her. “I didn’t say why. What I have to talk to you about is, well, I don’t want to spread it around.”
Shane nodded, not arguing with Beverly. Margaret was completely trustworthy with anything that was said in the office. Their clients’ confidential information was never spread around town. But there wasn’t any reason to argue the point right now.
“Okay. What can I do for you?”
“I don’t think Fiona killed herself. I want you to help me convince Garret to investigate her death.”
Shane sat back, stunned. “Tell me why you think that.”
“Well, for one thing, it just wasn’t in her nature. You know that.”
“I do,” he said carefully. “I also know she was seeing signs of dementia and after witnessing her brother go through that, she never wanted to burden Elliot with what her brother’s family went through.”