by Hope Ramsay
“If you take Tigger home first. You remember what Dr. Polk said about how it’s not a good idea for the kitties to spend too much time with a grown-up cat.”
“Tigger wouldn’t ever hurt kitties,” Rainbow said, giving Charlene a long sober look. “Miss Mary would be mad if she did.”
This was the second time Rainbow had mentioned someone by that name. “Have you figured out who this Miss Mary person is?” Charlene asked.
Mike shook his head. “The caseworker in Chicago is working on it.”
“It sounds like Miss Mary was an important person in Rainbow’s life.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
They headed up the stairs together, Charlene still wondering about the Miss Mary mystery. It wasn’t until she reached the landing that she realized she had consented to play host to her handsome neighbor wearing her sock monkey PJs and matching slippers.
“Uh, can y’all give me a moment to change my clothes?”
Mike smirked. “Why? You look perfectly fine to me.”
What could she say to that? Especially since Mike’s gaze fixed on her face, not her chest. Their gazes almost collided, and a rush of hormones swept through her.
“I’d feel better if I put on some clothes.” Wow, had she ever come up with a bigger understatement?
“Okay, we’ll be over in five,” he said, bounding up the left side of the stairway to his own door. He stopped and looked back. “But you don’t have to get dressed up for me. I’m a pretty informal kind of guy.”
Informal. Right. But be that as it may, Charlene hurried to her bedroom and found herself contemplating four pairs of jeans, none of which fit precisely right. There were the fat jeans, which were too big now that she had been working out semiregularly. And the skinny jeans, which were still too tight—by a long shot. Either way she was screwed.
So she threw up her hands and gave a mini primal scream. She refused to obsess over jeans. She refused to obsess over Mike Taggart.
So when Mike and Rainbow arrived, less than five minutes later, she answered the door wearing her baggy University of North Carolina sweatshirt and sweat pants, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She’d ditched the monkey slippers for a pair of athletic socks.
No one could accuse her of dressing to impress. Or seduce.
Rainbow brushed past her the moment the door opened, making a beeline for the basket of kittens, who were all awake and making lots of noise, as if they missed their mommy. The kittens looked on the tiny side. She hoped they’d been fully weaned.
“Have cold pizza, will travel,” Mike said as he crossed her threshold bearing the Pizza Hut box. “Point me in the direction of the microwave, and I’ll try to remedy the situation. Although I think Rainbow is so excited about the kittens that she’s unlikely to eat even hot pizza.”
Charlene led him to the kitchen, a tiny room that seemed to get smaller the moment Mike entered it. Two people trying to microwave pizza and get out the paper plates and napkins had to get kind of chummy. Charlene kept brushing past Mike, and every touch seemed to spark like static electricity.
Or maybe she had reached the desperate-spinster phase of her existence where she was guaranteed to have hot flashes merely because an unmarried man had entered her kitchen.
She needed to put distance between them—if not physically, at least mentally. “So,” she said, “I realize pizza is easy for a bachelor to make, but you know it’s loaded with carbohydrates and fat. It’s okay for once in a while, but every day? Really?”
Yep, that did it. Mike turned toward her with an annoyed glance. “Okay, I give up.” He plopped down into one of the ice-cream parlor chairs that she kept in the kitchen. He folded his arms. “You got something better to feed her?”
“Right now? All I’ve got in my pantry at the moment are some olives, pimentos, and canned okra. The refrigerator is kind of empty at the moment.”
“But you have olives and pimentos? Really?”
How embarrassing. “I have a girlfriend who likes her martinis dirty.”
“And the pimentos?”
“Left over from the last time I made pimento and cheese spread.”
“What?”
“It’s a southern thing.”
“I see.”
She rolled her eyes like an adorable teenager. “Okay, okay. You win. I eat out a lot.”
“Pizza?”
“Sometimes. But I’m not trying to raise a child, either.”
“Neither am I. I’m trying to find a family for a child. There’s a huge difference.”
“Right.”
“And Rainbow won’t eat anything other than pizza,” he said.
“So you’ve said. What have you tried?”
“McDonald’s. Burger King. Chick-fil-A. I also took her to the Pig Place, and she turned up her nose at their barbecue sandwich.”
“Right. Have you tried vegetables?”
He gave her an assessing stare. “Yeah. We went to an Applebees, and I ordered her a grilled chicken sandwich with some string beans on the side. She didn’t eat any of it.”
“You know, she’d eat good food if you stopped filling her up with pizza. It’s not a good idea to let her have her way on this.”
“Is that so? And clearly you have experience in this?”
Her face went hot. “No. But you have to admit that pizza for every meal isn’t healthy.”
“Okay. I admit it. But here’s the challenge. Do you think you can get her to eat something better?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have my permission to try.” His gaze narrowed. “In fact, I’ll bet you can’t get her to eat anything other than pizza.”
“You bet me?”
“Yeah. I do. And just to make it interesting, let’s agree that, if you win, then you have to buy my brother at the upcoming auction.”
“What? Pastor Tim hasn’t even signed up, and no one is trying to get him to do that. It would be crazy to have a minister participate in the auction.”
He chuckled. “If that’s the case, then you’re home free, right? But if I can get him to participate in the auction, and you lose this bet, you have to buy him and take him to dinner.”
He had that I’m-up-to-no-good twinkle in his eye again. “Mike, are you trying to match me up with Tim Lake?”
His eyes widened into a “who, me?” expression that didn’t fool her for one instant.
She folded her arms across her chest.
“Okay, it has occurred to me,” he said in a light tone, “that you’d be a perfect mother for Rainbow.” He held up his hand before she could explode with outrage. “And before you scream at me, I just want you to know that I spoke with Miriam Randall about this, and she seems to think that you and Tim might be good together. She told me point-blank that Tim would marry a doctor, and that we should use the bachelor auction to make that happen.”
“You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“I can’t buy Tim Lake. I’m not sure I like him all that much. And I’ve heard his sermons are kind of boring.”
“I don’t know if a man’s sermons are a gauge of his suitability as a husband and father. But okay. You don’t have to take the bet.”
“Wait one second. What do you have to do if I win this bet?”
He snorted a laugh. “You think you can actually get Rainbow to eat vegetables?”
“Yeah. I think I can.”
“Okay, which vegetable are we talking about here?”
“Name one.”
“Broccoli. I hate broccoli.”
“Okay, then, if I can get Rainbow to eat broccoli, then you have to enter the auction.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. You’re kind of cute, you know. And we’re perilously short on bachelors. I’ll bet there are lots of women who’d like to buy you for a few laughs.”
“A few laughs? I would hope I’d fetch more than that.”
“Ha, very funny. So have we got a deal?�
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He chuckled. And his blue eyes lit up. When he laughed like that, his face changed. He was unbelievably handsome. And he reeked sex appeal. He would definitely go for more than a few laughs. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on her tiny kitchen table. The little ice-cream shop chair seemed undersized for him.
“So, let me review what’s on the table,” he said. “I’m betting you that you can’t get Rainbow to eat broccoli. And if I win, then you will purchase Timmy in the auction, assuming that Tim participates. And if you win by getting Rainbow to eat broccoli, then I will participate in the auction and allow myself to be bought and sold.”
“Yeah, that sounds right.”
“So when is the broccoli-eating event going to take place?”
“How about Saturday. I’ll make you and Rainbow a dinner you won’t forget.”
He held out his hand. “Okay, I take the bet.”
CHAPTER
12
On Thursday morning before she headed out for her rounds with the local farmers, Charlene stopped by Mother’s house to pick up the boxes of old toys and books that had been stashed in the attic. These boxes had been lovingly put away for the day when Charlene would have a baby of her own.
Faye Tippit, Mother’s housekeeper, greeted Charlene at the side door. “Miss Charlene, you better be quiet. Your momma is having one of her headaches this morning.”
Right. Mother’s headaches were becoming a chronic condition, along with Mother’s weakness for wine. Charlene needed to make an intervention. But how? Her parents never took her seriously.
“Thanks, Faye,” she said, giving the woman a big hug. “I’m only here for a minute. I want to get some things out of the attic. I’ll try to be as quiet as a mouse.”
She failed. Or maybe Mother’s headache hadn’t incapacitated her that badly. Because the moment Charlene reached the pull-down attic stairs, Mother emerged from the master bedroom, still wearing her robe and pajamas.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
“I’m just getting a couple of boxes of old stuff.”
“What old stuff?”
“My books and toys.”
Mother crossed her arms and gave Charlene one of those looks that had always terrified her as a child. “Charlene, I’ve been hearing things about you all over town.”
“What things?”
“Gossip about that awful bachelor auction. Gossip about you and Reverend Lake. Gossip about how you’ve taken a special interest in that dark little girl that everyone claims is the preacher’s niece.”
That dark little girl. Boy, Mother could really work those euphemisms.
“Rainbow is mixed race. And she doesn’t have many books or toys, and I have boxes of them stored up there. Seems like a match made in heaven. Books for a girl who doesn’t have many.”
“You’re a fool,” Mother said. “I’ve heard all about this man who’s living in Martha’s apartment. He’s a gambler, Charlene. A low-class gambler. And probably a con man. Tim Lake may be a Methodist, but he seems like a good, upstanding, godly man. I can’t imagine him being related to people like that.”
People like that. “What kind of people, Mother? Blacks? Poor people?”
She sniffed. “Obviously the preacher is a white man.”
“Yeah, I guess he is. But his niece isn’t. And you know what? I don’t think Rainbow’s race matters to either Mike or Tim. They are both trying to do the best they can for her. And that’s why I’m here.”
“You’re going to get hurt.”
Charlene pulled down the attic stairs. Yeah, she might get hurt. But she needed to risk her heart this time. She started up the stairs.
“Why on earth are you doing this?” Mother shouted up the stairs.
“Because Rainbow needs me. And I’d be a terrible person if I didn’t give that child what she needs right now.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Mother grumbled.
Mother continued to fume as Charlene carried three boxes from the attic to her pickup. By the time Charlene folded the attic stairs, Mother had worked herself up into a full-fledged hissy fit.
She followed Charlene out into the driveway. “You will regret this. That girl is nothing but a mutt, born of low-class people. You have no business getting involved in that sordid situation.”
“Mother, shut up.” Charlene shoved the last box into the crew cab of her truck.
“You will not talk to me like that—”
“Yes, I will.” She turned and faced her mother. “Don’t you understand? Rainbow Taggart is my redemption.”
“Redemption for what?”
“Oh, my God, Mother. How can you pretend that I didn’t make a big mistake when I was nineteen?”
“I’m not pretending. You made a mistake. Your father and I fixed it.”
“No! You didn’t fix it. You made it worse. Don’t you see?” She was in tears now.
“Honey, you’ve worked yourself up to—”
“Just stop talking, Mother. You and Daddy think you fixed everything, but you didn’t. You can’t wash away a mistake like that. It haunts you for the rest of your life.”
“Really, Charlene, you’re thirty-one years old. It’s time to get over your childhood. Your father and I only did—”
“Shut up.”
Mother’s eyes widened.
“You can’t argue me out of this. I’ve decided to be a fool over Rainbow Taggart. She needs me. And the truth is I need her. And if you can’t say anything nice about that, then keep your mouth shut. Because talking about her race and telling me I’m a fool is just mean. You’re a good Christian woman. Start acting like one.”
The kittens were not fully weaned. As Charlene had suspected, they had been taken away from their mother too soon. Judging by their size, they were probably six weeks old—certainly old enough to eat solid food, but clearly they had not been exposed to solids until Charlene put down some kitten chow for them. The bigger boys immediately pounced on it. But the little girl kitten seemed lost without her momma.
Charlene had used a pet nurser to feed the kitten before she went to bed on Wednesday and again early Thursday morning before she went off to Mother’s house and then on her rounds. The little girl seemed to be waiting for the milk when Charlene got back home in the afternoon, but Charlene was determined to wean her. Unfortunately, the kitten had other ideas and turned her nose up at the solid food. Charlene held off nursing her while she kept an eye out on the front walkway. If the kitten got hungry enough, she might try the solid food, and if not, then Rainbow would be in for a treat.
At about five o’clock, Mike and Rainbow finally showed up. Charlene opened her front door as they came up the stairs, her heart suddenly beating hard in her chest.
Charlene’s altercation with Mother this morning had solidified her feelings for Rainbow. She had decided to fling open her heart.
But this breathless, flighty feeling had little to do with Rainbow. It was Mike that her gaze traveled to. Mike whose face she found herself studying.
Her suspicions about him had evaporated, replaced by a strong tug on her heart. He seemed genuinely determined to do the best by Rainbow. And suddenly he seemed like a completely different person.
“Hey,” she said, “I was wondering if y’all would like to come over and help me feed the kittens. One of them needs to be fed with a bottle.”
Rainbow’s face lit up, but she didn’t say anything. Charlene shifted her gaze to Mike. The corner of his mouth tipped up. The laugh lines at the corner of his eyes crinkled and something deep and warm flickered in his gaze. Every single one of her dormant girl parts awakened.
“Rainbow needs her dinner, too,” Mike said. “Maybe after she eats something.”
“I’m having ham sandwiches.” Charlene looked down at Rainbow. “You want a sandwich?”
Rainbow didn’t react, but Mike said, “Good luck with that.”
“I’m willing to try. You want a sandwich, too?” she asked, a
nd then mentally kicked herself. She had sort of envisioned Rainbow coming over without Mike. That would be safer all the way around. Much safer.
But having Mike come over sounded like a lot more fun.
“Sure,” he said.
Charlene’s insides went weightless, like that moment when a roller-coaster hits the first big dip.
“Come on in, then.” She opened her door and ushered them across her threshold.
Rainbow scampered across the living room and fell down on her knees beside the basket of kittens. She started petting the littlest one with long strokes along her head, as if she’d been petting kittens her whole life.
“I wonder where she learned to do that?” Charlene said. “It’s really unusual to find a five-year-old who knows how to handle kittens like that. And the animals trust her, which is also unusual. She must have been exposed to cats her whole life.”
Mike shook his head. “I don’t know. But it’s a huge problem.”
“A problem?” His warm, spicy scent tickled her hormones. What was that? Aftershave? Shampoo? She took a step away from him.
“Yeah, Timmy is deathly allergic to cats. He’s stopped by the apartment a couple of times, and the minute he sets foot in that place, his eyes start watering.” Mike’s voice dropped into a whisper. “I need to find a home for Tigger.”
“No. That would break Rainbow’s heart.”
“I hope it won’t. I’ve stepped up my efforts to find the cat’s original owner. I’m hoping the cat can go all the way home, where it belongs.”
“With Miss Mary?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but it really does look as if the cat never belonged to Rainbow. And I can’t see Angie having a cat. Tigger was well cared for, and I don’t think Angie had the money for that. Anyway, I’m on it. If I can return Tigger to her rightful owner, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“I guess it is. But it’s also true that taking Tigger away from Rainbow after she’s already lost so much will set her back. Besides, look at her—she loves animals.”
“It can’t be helped. Once Timmy accepts that I’m truly his brother and Rainbow is truly his niece, he will step up. She’ll have to give up the cat, but she’ll get a father. And really, trading a cat for a father is a good deal.”