Her Unlikely Family

by Missy Tippens

  “What if I was attracted to her?”

  Lisa shrugged, but the way she clutched at her elbows—that and the fact that she’d pushed away her uneaten food—told him it was feigned nonchalance.

  “I admit there’s some chemistry between us,” he said. “But that’s all. She’s got her life here, and we have ours in Charleston.”

  Lisa’s posture eased. She picked up a grape and popped it into her mouth. “Yeah, I guess we do have our life back home.” She sat up a little straighter. “I mean, you do. Me—I mean, I don’t know what I’m going to do. But you’re here now…for me. Right?”

  He nodded. Unable to speak, he cleared the lump out of his throat. “Yeah, I am.”

  Once he and Lisa had finished breakfast, Michael paid the bill and tipped Josie better than usual since she was taking care to make sure Lisa had nourishing food.

  “I guess I should get back to washing dishes,” Lisa said.

  “Thanks for eating with me. I hate to eat alone.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, I eat most of my meals at my desk or on the road.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “It never came up, I guess.”

  “If I’d known, maybe I wouldn’t have told you no when you invited me to dinner that time. Maybe next time I can, like…well, when I come visit Charleston, I can go eat with you. If you want.”

  Come for a visit? Did he dare hope this was a step in the right direction? He’d better tread carefully. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you to offer.”

  That sounded awful, Michael. Can’t you do better?

  The crease in Lisa’s brow confirmed his stupidity.

  “I’ll be sure to take you up on that sometime,” he amended.

  She looked at him, searching for the truth.

  “Soon,” he added quickly. “Once you come home.”

  “How soon?”

  Ouch. She certainly had him pegged—busy schedule and all. And it showed just how negligent he’d been. He took out his electronic organizer. “Let’s see….”

  “What’re you two planning?” Josie asked from out of nowhere. He hadn’t even heard her squeaky shoes or jewelry.

  Lisa looked at the ceiling and sighed in the irritating, sarcastic way that was becoming far too familiar. “Supposedly, a meal together in Charleston. Someday,” she answered.

  Here it comes. The dressing-down from Josie.

  Instead, Josie gave him a wide-eyed, shocked look. Then she smiled. “How nice!” Josie scooted Lisa over and sat plastered against her. “How about at Magnolia’s?”

  He squinted at her over the organizer. “You’ve been there?”

  “Yes, just once. A really long time ago.”

  “You never mentioned you’ve been to Charleston.”

  “Oh, I’ve been all over the place. Pretty much a drifter until I settled here two years ago.”

  “Josie, you’ll have to come and meet us there sometime when I’m visiting Uncle Michael.” Animation subtracted years off Lisa’s face.

  “We’ll see, sweetie. You know how much Bud needs me here. Especially since he hurt his back.”

  Michael placed the stylus back in its slot. “He was injured?”

  “Fell off a ladder,” Josie said. “Now he’s decided to retire.”

  “Josie’s saving to buy the diner from him,” Lisa said.

  “Lisa, let’s not get into that right now.”

  “Have you tried to get a loan?” he asked.

  She laughed and swatted her hand in the air. “I’m not going to discuss my financial situation with you two.”

  Lisa leaned toward her uncle. “That’s why she’s so thrifty. She saves every penny. Literally.”

  “I see.”

  “Seriously,” Lisa continued despite Josie’s elbow in the ribs. “She has a piggy bank in the kitchen at home.”

  Michael sat back and stretched his arms along the vinyl booth. “That’ll take a while, I guess.”

  Josie huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not all my savings. It’s just my thankful box.”

  “Every time she’s thankful for something, she puts some change in it,” Lisa said.

  “That’s a great thing to do.” He’d always admired people with positive attitudes, and had vowed on more than one New Year’s Eve to be more of an optimist.

  A blush lit Josie’s face. She’d never looked prettier. “It’s just something I read about. So I figured why not do it to add to my savings account.”

  “That’s why she didn’t want to use her thankful money, even when she ruined her hair.”

  “I see. The plot thickens.”

  “Okay, Lisa. Time to start being a normal, closemouthed teenager.” Josie laughed, seeming uncomfortable with Lisa’s honesty.

  Michael found it very intriguing. “No, go on, Lisa. I want to hear the story about the hair.”

  Josie patted her fluffed-up hairdo. It looked like a ponytail that had exploded into a fountain of pink. “I’m going back to work. You two need to find something better to talk about.”

  She hurried away, that fountain of hair bobbing up and down.

  Lisa leaned closer, as if to confide in him. She hadn’t wasted a second warming to the new topic. Apparently, she didn’t feel so threatened by Josie anymore. Or else she was going to reveal something that might harm his opinion of Josie.

  “When I first found the diner,” she said, “the guy I’d come with had just dumped me. For some, skinny black-haired model-type. I was furious.”

  “I imagine so. Plus he had stolen your car.”

  “Oh, that didn’t bother me as much as the fact that he’d asked me to marry him, then took up with that tramp as soon as he found out I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

  Michael’s face burned as he studied paint peeling off the wall in the corner.

  “Oh, don’t be such a dork, Uncle Michael. It happens all the time.”

  “Not to you, I hope.”

  “No. I know better. I’m holding out till marriage.”

  He swallowed. Parenting—well, being a guardian, rather—wasn’t for cowards. Or for dorks, like him. “Smart decision. I’m glad.”

  “Anyway…I’d just been dumped for the black-haired tramp. So the first night at Josie’s, I was bawling my eyes out. So she suggests we color our hair.”

  “Did she suggest green, then?” He’d have a word or two for her if she had.

  “No, it was already green, which, by the way, hadn’t gone over too well at school. But the roots had grown out. Once we got to the drugstore, I talked her into trying red. I don’t think she would have ever done it if it weren’t for me crying right there in the hair-color aisle. I mean, it was a bad scene.”

  Michael’s mind raced to keep up with his suddenly talkative niece. “So how did her hair end up pink? And what does this have to do with the piggy bank?”

  “Chill out. I’ll get to that part.” She leaned her arms on the table, eyes alight with mischief. “She didn’t have any other cash with her. And the green was expensive. So there we were counting her quarters and dimes and pennies. We were cutting it close. And since I couldn’t risk using my credit card, I wasn’t any help at all.”

  He tried to look stern. “No, you couldn’t risk your uncle finding you.”

  “Never.” She smiled a pleased smile. “So we put back her ten-dollar box of burnt-auburn and got a generic brand out of the clearance bin. The only red they had on sale for three dollars was strawberry-blond.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Since Josie’s real hair is, like, medium brown, well, you can guess what that blond kit did.”

  “Bleached it?”

  “Bleached it and turned it the color of a strawberry.”

  Michael tried to imagine what a woman would do in that situation. The picture wasn’t pretty. “I hope she didn’t fuss at you.”

  “Fuss? Not at all. For a minute or two, I thought she might cry. She stood silent, staring at her
hair. Her eyes even watered. But then all of a sudden, she smiled. ‘I used to have a strawberry-scented doll that had hair this color,’ she said. ‘I loved that doll more than any other because it was the only doll my dad ever picked out for me.’”

  The story served as a punch to his gut. Could Lisa possibly know how much she’d just told him about Josie? “She said that, huh?”

  “Yep. Then she went and washed it about fifty times to get some of the pink out. The next morning, it looked pretty much like it does now.”

  “And she wouldn’t go to a salon to get it repaired because she’s cheap.”

  “Cheap?”

  “That’s what she told me.”

  “Oh, she’s never cheap. She’s spent money on me. But she won’t spend it on herself. Anyway, she says she likes being different for a change.”

  Different. Yes, she was much different from what he had thought. From how he had judged her to be.

  If it weren’t for the kindness she’d shown Lisa, Josie would still have nice brown hair to match her beautiful brown eyes.

  And what had he offered his niece? Lisa’s own flesh and blood had repeatedly sent her off to school to let someone else deal with her while a total stranger had sacrificed her own self-image to make the girl feel important.

  He looked at the girl across from him, who looked exactly like the sister he missed so much, and he knew, for the first time in years, what it felt like to be lucky. A bond had begun to form between him and Lisa.

  But he feared a bond had begun to form between him and Josie, also. Yet he couldn’t act on it. Lisa had to be his number-one priority. Lisa, who, for some reason, didn’t want him to have any feelings for pink-haired Josie Miller.

  Chapter Seven

  Okay, back to business. No more letting herself get caught up in discussions about her goals, her dreams. Or her piggy bank.

  Josie was going to stick to a plan to teach Mike how to take care of his niece. He would have Lesson Number One: A lesson in shopping. The ultimate teenage pastime. And he would learn at the mall.

  Once the three of them arrived at the mall in a neighboring town, Mike stood at the entrance as if scared to go in.

  Josie gave him a shove. “You’re safe. No one bites.”

  Lisa observed the two of them, so Josie made sure there wasn’t a trace of attraction on her face—no staring, no pudding knees, no drooling. She would keep herself at least a foot away from him from now on.

  “All right, here’s our plan.” She pulled a wadded napkin from the pocket of her denim skirt. She’d scribbled a list earlier. “First, Lisa needs some new jeans.”

  “My jeans are fine,” Lisa said.

  “We could send for her things from the school,” Mike suggested.

  “She needs something for work besides those baggy pants that drag on the ground. The bottoms of the legs stay wet.”

  Mike rubbed his hands together. “I agree with you there, Josie. Where to?”

  “This is starting to look like you two ganging up on me,” Lisa said. “Remember what I said about that?”

  Josie tucked the list back into her pocket. “This isn’t ganging up. We just agree on something for a change.”

  “Yes, take note, Lisa. This may be a first.”

  “And a last, I hope,” Lisa snapped.

  As much as Lisa objected, she didn’t seem to mind once they got to the store. Fortunately, Josie had called ahead to make sure this store sold something besides those ill-fitting jeans.

  Lisa hunted through several racks, then finally pulled out a hanger.

  “Those look like they’ll drag on the ground, too,” Mike said.

  “Maybe not. Just let me try them on.”

  “Go ahead, Lisa,” Josie said.

  Lisa gave him an exaggerated, smart-alecky smile and hurried off.

  “Why did you allow her to try on that huge pair?”

  “Believe it or not, they look smaller than her usual jeans.”

  “I can tell by looking at them on the hanger that they’re too long.”

  “Well, she needs to learn to shop for what’s appropriate. And you need to learn how to say no and redirect her—in a nice way that’ll be easy for her to swallow.” She gave him her sweetest smile, knowing how difficult that task would be.

  He practically snorted at her comment. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  After ten minutes, Mike paced the floor. “Shouldn’t you go check and make sure she hasn’t been kidnapped?”

  Josie cackled. “Good one, Mike. You’re too cute.”

  “Cute? I’m serious.”

  “Oh, well…” She checked her laughter. “You’ll learn. These things take time.”

  “How long could it possibly take to try on one—”

  Lisa stepped out of the fitting room. “Well?”

  “They fit nicely.” Josie signaled for Lisa to spin around. “Mike, what do you think?”

  Josie could imagine he wanted to say “Too long,” and be done with it.

  “Will they work for the diner?” he said, instead.

  “I don’t know,” Lisa said. “They drag on the ground a little.”

  Mike pointed. “And they do look—” he gestured at the distressed areas of the denim “—used.”

  “They’re supposed to, Uncle Michael.”

  “How do they feel?” Josie asked.

  “Great.”

  “Do you think you could find a trimmer style that might be more appropriate for work?” he asked.

  Way to go, Mike. Leading instead of ordering her.

  “I guess I can try some. But I won’t promise anything.” She went right to her size on the shelves along a wall, pulled out a folded pair of what appeared to be a more traditional style, then headed back into the dressing room.

  “I’m proud of you, Mike. I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

  “Despite what you might think, I am teachable.”

  “And you’re a quick learner, too.”

  After several minutes, Lisa reappeared. “These may be okay.” She examined herself from all angles. “You don’t think they make me look fat, do you?”

  “You don’t have an extra ounce of fat on your body,” Mike said.

  “Your weight is just right for your height, Lisa. Those look great.”

  “They’re perfect for the diner. They look good on you,” he said.

  “They’re really different, but I think I can get used to them.” She seemed pleased at how she looked.

  She really did have a nice figure buried under all those baggy clothes, belts and chains. Josie hoped she might realize it and gain some self-confidence.

  “Can I buy them, Uncle Michael?” she asked.

  “Of course we can buy them. Go get two more pairs and we’ll meet at the front of the store.”

  After Lisa changed and picked up the extra jeans, she met them at the checkout line.

  Josie nodded toward the store exit. “Come on, Lisa. While Mike pays, let’s go look for a belt at that little accessory shop.”

  He pulled out his wallet. “I imagine a plain leather belt would look nice.”

  “I’ve got to have some way to express myself,” Lisa said as if the traditional jeans were almost too much to bear.

  He smiled at her. “Go, then. I wouldn’t want to crush your identity.”

  He’d said it so sweetly that Josie wanted to hug him.

  Maybe he could succeed at this shopping after all.

  Michael was relieved to have the shopping ordeal over. But it hadn’t been as painful as he’d feared it would be.

  Not once had he upset Lisa. And Josie seemed proud of his effort. Of course, she’d been along to help. He hoped to be as successful when it was just him and Lisa.

  As he walked the area near the denim store waiting for Lisa and Josie to return, he meandered into a jewelry boutique. The items appeared to be designed by the owner and handmade. He immediately thought of Josie.

  “May I help you?” the sales clerk asked.
>
  “I’m just browsing.”

  “Let me know if I can answer any questions.”

  Once he’d made a trip around the small shop, he knew that Josie could make several items with quality just as good. “Excuse me,” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “Does the owner make your entire inventory, or do you purchase from other suppliers?”

  “Most of the pieces are made by the owner. But we do take some on consignment. Mostly from students at the craft school in Gatlinburg.”

  From the prices he’d seen, Josie would be able to buy the diner a lot sooner if she could sell some of her work in a retail outlet like this one. “I know someone who makes wonderful pieces. Could I give her one of your business cards?”

  She handed him a card. “Of course. We’d love to see them.”

  “Thank you.” On a whim, he pointed at the nearest display case. “I’d like to see that amber necklace-and-earring set….”

  Michael sat on a bench surrounded by lost-looking men. Some snoozed. Some read the newspaper. Others looked as bewildered as he felt.

  How long could it take to buy a belt?

  He heard Josie’s laughter before he saw her. Then Lisa’s followed. The two had probably been up to no good.

  “Hey, Uncle Michael. Wanna see my new belt?” She lifted it out of a shopping bag. It was leather—with large metal studs all around, like a collar you’d expect to see on a vicious junkyard dog.

  He stood and checked out the men around him. None seemed fazed. They probably all had mall-dwelling daughters. “That’s nice. Not a single chain link.”

  Lisa laughed. “What about Josie’s? I talked her into getting a belt, too.”

  Josie swatted at Lisa. “You did not.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t talk you into it, you did it all on your own.” A devious laugh bubbled out of her. “Go ahead. Show him.”

  Josie took hers out of a shopping bag. “I couldn’t resist. I thought it was cute.” The belt was all metal, made of small, delicate chain links, just like Lisa’s old belt—only a smaller version.

  Michael had to laugh. It looked as if Josie wanted to express herself as well. Just more daintily.

  “It’ll give her something to remember me by,” Lisa said.

  Encouraged that she might be thinking in terms of going home eventually, he said, “Yes. A souvenir from your visit.”