by Gayle Roper
“I—” Vinnie swallowed and tried again. “I can’t fly.”
Barney looked blank.
“I can’t fly,” Vinnie repeated. “I got like this phobia.”
Suddenly Joanne understood. “You can’t fly because you’re scared? And you made me fly?” She was outraged.
“So why didn’t you just drive, idiot?” Barney asked.
With a disgusted snort, Barney put the car in gear and drove back toward the center of Seaside, one hand draped casually, possessively across Joanne’s lap. When he dropped Vinnie off, he snarled, “I need to make plans, and you need to be ready to do whatever I tell you, moron.”
“Sure, Barney, sure,” Vinnie bleated as he backed away from the car.
“And one more thing.” Barney glanced down at Joanne who still sat plastered to his side, though there was now room to move away, not that she wanted to. “She’s mine.”
Vinnie looked startled, and that made Joanne frown. What did he think? She was chopped liver? Nobody but him could be dumb enough to like her?
“Got that?” Barney smiled at Vinnie like the shark in Finding Nemo, all teeth ready to bite if Vinnie made the wrong move. “Mine.”
“Sure, Barney, sure.” Vinnie nodded like a bobblehead doll. “All yours.”
Joanne wondered if she should be insulted that Vinnie gave her up so easily, but when Barney looked at her like he was looking now, it was hard to even remember that Vinnie existed, let alone be upset by his quick giving her up.
“Mine, right, sugar?” Barney whispered just before he kissed her.
Twenty-Three
WHAT IF GRANDMOM loses the store because she can’t pay rent because she’s not making any money?” A woebegone Ryan sat at the dinner table Sunday evening after his visit with his grandmother. “She’s had such a hard life, and the store is her special project, the good thing she does. She can’t lose it!”
His head was propped on one hand while he played with his spaghetti with the other. “And what if we lose the apartment because we can’t pay rent? Where will we live? There’s no family but us.” He didn’t even mention his mother as a possible source of help, which saddened Dori immensely.
“Don’t worry so, Ry,” Trev said as he twirled a forkful of spaghetti. “The church will never let you be homeless, and we’ll do all we can to make sure Mae doesn’t lose the store. The elders and I have already talked about it, and Mr. Warrington has pledged to make up any difference the congregation can’t meet.”
Ryan wasn’t impressed with the assurances. “Like that will happen. Mr. Warrington is real mad at you right now because of Angie.”
“Maybe,” Trev said, “but he won’t take his anger at me out on you. He likes to help people.”
“When it helps him or makes him look good,” Ryan said cynically “But if helping us was your idea to begin with, we’re in deep trouble.”
Dori looked at Trev who didn’t bother to refute Ryan’s comment. “I take it Jonathan is fairly well off?”
“Rich is the word, I believe.”
Ryan nodded. “He owns half the businesses on the boardwalk as well as his car dealership.”
“An exaggeration, but only slightly.” Trev dumped more salt on his pasta. “Got to keep my blood pressure up,” he said when he saw Dori’s raised eyebrow.
Ryan stirred his spaghetti around and around his plate. “If I was older, I’d quit school and take care of things myself.” He sighed. “I hate thirteen!”
“You know you couldn’t quit school even if you were older,” Trev said. “Mae’d never allow it.”
Ryan made a face and stuffed much too much spaghetti into his mouth. Utterly dejected, he chewed for a moment. Suddenly he sat up and looked at Dori.
“You ran a gift shop, didn’t you?” he asked around his mouthful of food. It sounded more like, “Uo ra a gi sha, din ou?”
Dori put her hands up, palms out to ward off the suggestion, and shook her head. Her life was already too complicated.
“Why not?” He looked at her slyly. “You could be the heroine and save my grandmother from all kinds of financial calamity.”
“Please don’t ask me, Ry.” Though what else she was going to do with her time she didn’t know.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Trev said. “It’ll give you something to do that you enjoy and know. And by the way, these are great meatballs.”
She glared at him. “A gift shop and a bookstore are vastly different. Thanks. Four eggs for every pound of hamburger.”
“Four eggs?” Trev shrugged. “And retail is retail, right?”
And ignorance is ignorance, she thought but managed not to say.
“Please think about it,” Ryan said. “Please, please.” A basset hound couldn’t have looked any sadder or needier.
That night Dori stared at the ceiling of Trev’s room, talking to herself about why she shouldn’t take on the bookstore. The main reason for not getting involved was that it would become another link in the chain binding her to Seaside, a chain whose weight was already pulling her under.
But what if Ryan was right, and Mae would lose her store? What would happen to her and Ryan then? But why was saving them her responsibility? Trev said the church was going to help. Wasn’t that one of the reasons for churches—to help people?
She finally fell into a restless sleep and woke on Monday feeling groggy and disoriented. The day passed slowly for her with Ryan in school and Trev at work. She wandered the house, making little adjustments here and there, noting things that needed to be bought like decent sheets and colorful towels to replace the mud brown ones.
She read for a while, did the crossword in The Philadelphia Inquirer, and eyed the weights a few seconds before sanity returned. She even put on her new black down coat and red beret and took Jack for a walk. She did not think about working at the bookstore, at least not much.
“Bet you haven’t had a bath in all the years he’s had you,” she said to the dog as they entered the house after their walk. She hung up her coat, then led him to the bathtub. She lifted his front legs into the tub, then scooted his hindquarters in. He stood there cooperatively, but he obviously had no idea what she was doing. When she leaned in to turn the spigot, he kissed her lavishly. She sputtered and laughed and gave him a hug.
“You are a wonderful dog. Just don’t tell Trev or Trudy I said so.”
He grinned compliance.
She turned on the water and Jack promptly began drinking. As he drank, she played with the temperature until she felt it was right. Then she dropped the stopper.
As the water rose up his legs, Jack looked nonplussed. Still, he stayed put. He was, after all, a water dog. When she began pouring water over him, he gave her a woeful look, but when she began shampooing him, he seemed to take it as a great scratching. He turned glassy eyed with pleasure. She rinsed him, crooning to him about what a good boy he was. He gave her a slurp from chin to hairline.
She released the water, and he jumped out. Before she had a chance to duck, he shook, sending thousands of tiny water drops flying around the bathroom. Dori was convinced that an abnormal percentage somehow found her. Still it was worth it. He smelled like Pert and felt soft to the touch.
Just then the phone rang. She ran, dripping, into the bedroom to answer. It might be Meg, or it might be something about her suitcase. “Hello?”
“I need to make a visit,” Trev said without preamble.
If she didn’t know better, Dori would have thought he sounded nervous, but Trev was never nervous. “Okay.” Why he was telling her she wasn’t sure. Did he think he needed to report in any time he left the office? Or get her permission?
He cleared his throat, that special little click. He was nervous! “Would you go with me?”
“Me?” Her voice squeaked. Now she was nervous, and being bored suddenly looked a lot better than it had a half hour ago. “Why?” Did he want her to go visit a dying person? Or a shut-in? Certainly he wouldn’t take her to visit Barry
the Flasher, though that would be a visit worth the time. She was very curious about him.
“I have to go visit Shannon Warrington, and I don’t want to go alone for several reasons. I know it’s an awful lot to ask of you since you’ve never even met the woman, but please come along?”
Bob Warrington’s abandoned wife. Jonathan and Judy’s daughter-in-law. Angle’s sister-in-law. If anyone needed an extra friend after life with that bunch, it would be Shannon.
“Sure, I’ll go.”
“Thanks, Dori.”
The relief in his voice made her glad she’d said yes, though she wasn’t sure what kind of help she could be. One thing was for certain. She understood everything that Shannon was feeling. Watching your marriage disintegrate was agony in the extreme.
“I’ll be home for you in about ten minutes.”
Good. Time enough to towel Jack a bit and still change out of her wet clothes.
She was ready when Trev walked into the house and looked at his still moist dog. “Did Dori take you for a walk on the beach, big guy? Have you been in the ocean?”
Jack wiggled with joy at having him home, even if only for a few minutes. Trev reached to pet him and froze. “He smells like a perfume factory.”
“He smells wonderful,” Dori corrected. “And he’s so pretty and clean, aren’t you, boy?” She crooned the last at him and he wiggled his way to her. “You smell beautiful, and don’t let the mean man tell you differently.”
“Yeah, Jack. You’re beautiful.”
She laughed at Trev’s sarcasm and pulled her coat from the closet.
“Say,” he said. “I have a turtleneck just that same color.”
She looked down at the crimson shirt with the cuffs rolled up three times. “Not anymore.”
Trev sighed as he followed her to the car. “First you wash my dog, then you steal my clothes. What next?”
She grinned at him. “Be afraid. Be very afraid.”
Shannon Warrington lived bayside in a large new house with lots of glass, an immense screened back porch looking over the marshes and bay, and a dock at the edge of the lawn. Dori could only imagine the size of the Warrington boat hibernating for the winter in some nearby marina.
“Bob and Shannon must be doing pretty well for themselves.” Dori eyed the rest of the neighborhood full of oversized but beautiful homes, all with backyard docks. “Or else they’re in hock to their ears.”
“He sells cars,” Trev said as he rang the doorbell. “Lots of cars. Shannon hasn’t worked since the kids came along.”
The front door opened a crack, and Dori saw a little girl with two lopsided ponytails sticking out on either side of her head and a one-eyed blue teddy bear tucked under her arm. Even though it was almost two in the afternoon, she wore a frilly cotton nightie with Cinderella, Jacques, and Gus-Gus on the front. She was a skinny mite who didn’t look tall enough or strong enough to handle a huge front door.
“Hi. I’m Serena. I’m three. Who are you?”
“Hi, Serena. I’m Pastor Paul and this is Dori. Remember me?”
Serena squinted at him. “Nope.”
Dori smothered a smile.
Trev tried again. “Is your mom home?”
“Sure. Her’s sleeping on the sofa. Come on in.” She turned and ran. “Mommy! There’s a man and a lady here.”
Hoping the child didn’t invite all unknown adults in, Dori pushed the door open, then entered, Trev right behind her. She heard a baby crying off in another room. When Serena came dancing back, Dori asked, “Is that your brother crying? Is he all right?”
Serena nodded, completely unconcerned. “That’s Jonny. He always cries. He’s got colic bad. He’s named after Grandpop Jonathan.”
A chubby woman with pasty skin and red eyes padded into the foyer. She wore old, faded navy sweat pants and a spotted red sweatshirt that read SEASIDE, NJ in navy stitchery. Seashells and a breaking wave backed the words. Its sleeves, which ended inches above her wrist bone, were badly frayed. On her feet were white socks fast losing their white.
Dori saw a woman who had probably once been cute but who had lost her vitality. She looked—hollow. Her hair needed a good shampooing, and the circles under her eyes evidenced sleepless nights. Dori wanted to hug her, to tell her it would be all right, but she knew there was a good chance it wouldn’t.
“Pastor,” Shannon whispered, her hand going to her uncombed hair and pushing it back from her face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at church yesterday. I was afraid I’d see—” Her chin trembled, and she brought her hand up to still it. A lone tear slid down her cheek.
“Mommy’s crying,” Serena announced. Her little face scrunched up.
Quickly Dori knelt in front of the girl. “Don’t you cry too, honey. We have to be brave for Mommy, okay?”
Serena looked at her for a minute, and it was touch and go on the tears. Then the little girl gave a brisk nod. “Brave.”
Dori smiled at her. “Good girl.”
“Let’s sit down, Shannon,” Trev suggested.
Shannon nodded wearily. “Serena, honey, why don’t you go watch a video?”
“The mermaid,” Serena said.
Shannon nodded and turned toward the back of the house. “I have to set it up for her. I’ll be right back.”
Serena danced after her mother, then danced back. “I’m going to be Ariel when I grow up. That’s ’cause mermaids get to swim all over the world.” She grinned, then turned and ran from the room.
“How could anyone leave a charmer like that?” Dori asked as they walked into the living room. It was full of elegant beige and white furniture, totally unsuitable for a young family as evidenced by the grape juice stain on one of the beige chairs and a smudge on the pale carpet. A cream chenille throw lay crumpled on the floor beside the cream and beige striped sofa.
They sat in silence as they waited for Shannon. When she walked in, her shoulders were slumped and her steps dragged. She collapsed onto the sofa and pulled the chenille throw onto her lap like a security blanket.
“I went to the grocery store this morning,” she said. “They wouldn’t accept my debit card. They said there was no money in the account.” She gave a great, heaving sob. “Bob said he’d put some money back. He promised.”
Trev pulled out an envelope and handed it to Shannon. “Here’s a gift card to the grocery store for a hundred dollars. It’ll get you through the next few days.”
Shannon took it in a shaking hand. “Thanks,” she whispered, obviously embarrassed to take charity. She wrapped her arms about herself and began to rock. “I can’t believe this is happening to me. I just can’t believe it. I thought we were so happy.”
Dori felt her own heart being ripped open with empathetic pain.
“Have you spoken with Brewster Robbins yet?” Trev asked.
“I don’t want to go to a lawyer.” Shannon’s voice was suddenly stronger. “I don’t want a divorce. I want Bob to come back!”
Why she’d want a rat of a man who had left her and their kids, taken all their money with him, and moved in with his girlfriend was more than Dori could understand. She sure wouldn’t want him.
“I hope you can reconcile too, Shannon,” Trev said. “Brewster will just protect you and the kids. He’ll see that things like an empty account get fixed and real quick. He knows what buttons to push to get Bob to assume his legal responsibilities. He’s a Christian too, Shannon, and he hates divorce as much as you and I do. He won’t push you in that direction, I promise. Please call him.”
“I can’t afford him.” She sniffed, then ran the back of her wrist under her nose.
Trev shook his head. “Money’s not an issue. Brewster has made helping women in circumstances like yours his special ministry.”
Serena danced into the room, a bag of potato chips in her hand. “Can I have some, Mommy? I’m hungry.”
“Sure, baby. Why not?”
Serena grinned, revealing a mouthful of chip crumbs. Her request was obviously
a case of better late than never. Dragging the bag behind her, she danced away.
“I usually give her fruit and cheese and good things to eat,” Shannon said helplessly as she watched her daughter disappear. “Chips and junk food of all kinds were Bob’s favorites. But—” She waved her hand vaguely.
Dori knew. No money, no more good stuff.
Trev captured Shannon’s waving hand. He held it in both of his. “Lord, Shannon needs You to wrap Your loving arms around her and hold her tight. Be real to her, Father, and comfort her. Be her husband and a father for Serena and Jonny. And, Lord, break into Bob’s heart and bring him home.”
Dori knew he no more expected that miracle than she did.
On Tuesday boredom hung heavily once again, and Ryan’s please, please kept ringing in Dori’s ears as she rearranged the kitchen to suit her preferences. When she called Mae early in the afternoon, it was most assuredly not to talk about the store but to introduce herself since she was now living with Ryan and Trev. However when Mae talked about the store, Dori listened carefully.
“At least I was smart enough to fall after Christmas,” Mae said. “Otherwise I’d be really, really worried. Now I have the luxury of being just plain worried.”
Dori decided she liked the woman’s attitude even as she thought of Small Treasures. While it was a sound little store, it wouldn’t take much of a forced closing to put them in financial difficulty. Bills like rent, electricity, and insurance continued whether income did or not.
Mae sighed. “It’s not that winter is such a great season in a resort town like Seaside, but I do have my regulars. And it’s my planning time for what’s to come. I also get orders through our web page, and no one’s filling them.”
“You have a web page?” Dori wouldn’t have expected a fifty-something proprietor of a small bookstore to have one, which she was certain said something about an age prejudice she hadn’t realized she had. After all, Meg had a Small Treasures web page.
Mae gave a burst of laughter. “I’ve got Ryan. How could it be otherwise?”
Dori grinned. “Point taken.”