Forever Mine, Valentine

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He turned, looking confused when he saw her. “You’re not ready for the windows, are you?” he asked, coming toward her. “I thought it would be at least tomorrow.”

  “It will. That’s not why I’m here. I talked with Charlie, and decided to stay on a few days beyond what I’d originally planned. If you could use my services, I’ll be in town another seven to ten days.”

  He leaned one hand against a rough shelf and gazed at her. “I’m sorry about what I said.”

  “It’s okay. I probably deserved it.”

  “Obviously not. You’re staying.”

  “Just a few days,” she cautioned.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Not through February fourteenth?”

  “Nope.”

  “I have the feeling Charlie unloaded his St. Valentine’s Day theory on you.”

  “He did,” Jill admitted, heart thumping.

  “And you don’t care to stick around and test it.” His smile gently teased her.

  “It really wouldn’t matter if I stayed longer or not. All this significance Charlie attaches to Valentine’s Day is silly, don’t you think?”

  “Of course it is.” His brown eyes glowed with good humor.

  “Of course,” she echoed.

  “So why run away?”

  “I’m not running,” she said, her mouth dry. “I’ve told you what my schedule is. And I may be foolish to spend any extra time here, but it’s a good cause, and I think I can help. However, if you don’t want to accept my offer…”

  “No. I’m grateful for whatever days you can spare. How about dinner? We can discuss the particulars then.”

  Jill glanced at her watch. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather grab a hamburger and eat while I work. We can talk after the mall closes, so I won’t lose potential working time.”

  “Sounds reasonable. We can meet here a few minutes before nine.”

  “I’ll be here. See you then.” She turned to go.

  “Jill.” He spoke her name softly. It was the first time he’d used her given name, she realized.

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Spence,” she said, trying out his first name, liking the sound of it. “We haven’t even started.”

  His slow smile quietly contradicted her.

  Heart racing, she turned and hurried out of the store.

  4

  JILL DESCENDED the oak staircase listening to the familiar echoing sounds of closing time: the soft thunder of metal grid doors sliding down over store entrances; the clack of long-handled dustpans; the bump of wheeled buckets rolling over the imitation brick flooring.

  But unlike other malls where Jill had worked, here there was also the clang of a trolley bell as the conductor finished his last run, and the laughter of an audience filing out of the melodrama after the last performance. No doubt about it, the atmosphere of Remembrance Mall was special, and Jill was willing to spend time to help preserve its unique character.

  The question was, how dangerous to her plans was this liaison with Spence? She remembered one of G.G.’s favorite sayings—that obstacles in your path test whether you want something or just think you do. Spence Jegger was the biggest obstacle she had encountered on her path so far. Spence and Charlie, she amended.

  She arrived at the entrance to Jegger’s Outfitters and ducked under the metal door that had been left partially open. An athletic-looking young woman of about eighteen was closing out the cash register.

  “Is Spence around?” Jill asked, glancing toward the back office.

  “He and Charlie are in the storeroom,” the girl said. “Are you Jill?”

  “Yep.”

  “He said to send you back. It’s through that curtain.”

  Jill followed the girl’s directions into an unfinished area of exposed studs and shiny insulation. Rows of steel shelving lined up library-style held stacks of boxes. To her right, from behind a barrier of shelving she heard men’s voices. “Spence?” she called out.

  “Hey, Jill!” he called back, and appeared around the end of the shelving. “Come and see Charlie’s apartment.”

  When she arrived at the makeshift doorway, she laughed with delight. “This is terrific, Charlie.”

  “I should say so.” Charlie, his tweed coat off and his red vest unbuttoned, stretched his arms in both directions. “Welcome to my domicile. I worry that Spencer requires this space for storage, but he’s assured me that he doesn’t.”

  Jill glanced at Spence, who was leaning against the metal shelving. She’d have a tough time resisting a guy who provided a poor old man with such a comfortable place to live.

  One side of the long, narrow space contained a small iron bedstead, neatly made up with blankets pulled so tight a quarter would have bounced on them. Next to the bed were wooden shelves that held a hotplate, dishes and a two-foot-square refrigerator. Opposite was a faded easy chair with an unmatched ottoman and an end table that held several books and a chess set with a game in progress. A framed poster of a red rose lying across piano keys hung from an exposed stud on the wall, and through a partially closed door Jill glimpsed the bathroom. Everything looked neat as a military barracks before inspection.

  “Come and sit down, my dear,” Charlie said, taking her elbow and guiding her toward the easy chair. “You’ve had a long day.”

  “But this is your chair,” she protested not very convincingly. She sighed in relief as she sank into it.

  “Put your feet up,” he added. “Let me take your things.”

  Jill relinquished her box of painting supplies and her coat before resting her feet on the ottoman. On her own for so long, she’d almost forgotten the luxury of having someone else to care for her. She’d been on her feet for hours, but she hadn’t noticed her fatigue until she sat down. “This is a wonderful chair,” she said, glancing at Spence.

  “Used to be my dad’s,” he said, watching her with a tender expression. “He had a fit when my mom said it was too shabby for the living room. Instead of hauling it to the dump, he brought it to the store. Now that they’re retired, he doesn’t get down here to sit much, but Charlie’s making use of it.”

  “Then all this was here before?”

  “Everything except the bed and the poster. Oh, and the chess set. That’s Charlie’s.”

  Jill looked at the board. “And I interrupted your game.”

  “That’s just as well, my dear.” Charlie perched on the edge of the bed. “Spencer had me on the ropes, as usual.”

  “Don’t let him kid you. Charlie’s the chess champion of the Remembrance Mall, and I lose more games than I win.” Spence’s voice held a note of affection. “Anyway, now that you’re here, I’ll close up the front of the store and make sure Stephanie’s got everything under control. Be right back.”

  After he left, Jill turned to Charlie. “Do you and Spence play chess a lot?”

  “Not really. He doesn’t have the time. But the game serves as a diversion at quitting time,” Charlie explained. “He likes to give Stephanie or Horace, whoever’s closing up shop, a chance to tally the receipts without hanging over their shoulder. He wants to build confidence in those young people.”

  Jill nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

  “Spencer is a wonderful man, Jill. Did you know he was named for one of the great philanthropists in Colorado Springs’s history?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Spencer Penrose was the fellow’s name.” Charlie reached under his bed and took a book from a neat stack. “And our Spencer’s middle name is Penrose. I’ve been reading about Mr. Penrose’s contributions, and there’s a lengthy list—the Pikes Peak Highway, the Broadmoor Hotel, the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo—all sorts of valuable things.”

  “I have a feeling you’re leading up to something, Charlie.”

  “Only that our Spencer’s ideals and community spirit reflect well upon his predecessor. And the most wonderful part of the story is that Spencer Penrose was encouraged in all of
this by his talented and creative wife, Julie.”

  Jill leaned her head against the back of the chair. “You are such a romantic, Charlie.”

  “Well, of course I am. What other posture makes sense in this world, I ask you?”

  “You may have a point.”

  “I also noticed,” Charlie said, closing the book, “how similar your name is to Mrs. Penrose’s name. Spencer and Julie. Spencer and Jill. Both combinations sound rather nice, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I would say that I’ve never met such a determined matchmaker in my life.” She closed her eyes to rest them.

  “Couldn’t you possibly stay until February fourteenth?”

  “No, Charlie,” she said without opening her eyes. She heard his sigh of defeat and smiled. “If Spence Jegger and I are right for each other, we’ll know before February fourteenth.”

  “I think so, too,” Spence said from the doorway.

  Jill’s eyes flew open and heat rose to her cheeks as she stared across the little room at him. “I…didn’t expect you back so soon.”

  Spence smiled at her. “Stephanie’s efficient.”

  “Why don’t I leave you two alone to talk?” Charlie said quickly, moving toward the door. “I can take my evening exercise. Is the key in the usual place?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Then I’ll be on my way.” With a satisfied expression on his face, Charlie left the storeroom.

  “Where’s he going?” Jill asked, sitting up straighter and putting her feet on the floor.

  “For a walk in the mall. He knows where I keep the key, so he lets himself out through the metal sliding door, relocks it and comes back the same way.” Spence crossed to the ottoman and sat on it. His knees were only a few inches from hers.

  “Oh.”

  “I guess we’d better get to work, although I feel a little guilty about loading more on you. You seemed pretty tired when you came in here.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not tired anymore,” she stammered, unnerved by his closeness.

  He leaned his forearms on his knees and gazed at her. “Actually, you don’t look tired now. You look scared to death.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Hey, I won’t bite. And if it makes you feel any better, the security guards started their rounds five minutes ago. You can scream and they’ll come and whack me over the head with night sticks until you tell them to stop.”

  She laughed and felt better. “It’s just that we’ve never been alone together, and with all Charlie’s talk about romance, I’m nervous. Charlie’s really done a number on us. I’m not interested in a relationship, Spence. I could have had that by staying in Maine, but I hardly felt ready to commit myself to a man when my whole future was a question mark.”

  “I understand. And if it makes you feel any better, I’m not in the market for a relationship, either.”

  “Oh. Good,” she said, feeling deflated by this unexpected announcement. Reluctance on her part was okay, but reluctance on his challenged her ego. “Why not?”

  “I was burned not too long ago. I was so sure that we were both ready for marriage.” He shrugged. “Obviously we weren’t. The divorce became final last November.”

  “I see.” So he’d been married. Jill wasn’t crazy about this information, either.

  “I need a vacation from involvement, as I told Charlie,” Spence added.

  “What did he say to that?”

  “He just smiled his wise little smile and told me I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

  “Well, we both know about Charlie,” Jill said, trying for lightness to salvage her ego. “He’s as sweet and nutty as my great-grandmother’s fruitcake.”

  “He’s been fun to have around, though.”

  “I’ll bet. I already know he’s one of the people I’ll want to keep in touch with them when I go back to Maine.”

  “Have you met very many people like that?”

  She glanced at him, gratified by the interest his question revealed. “A few.”

  “Guys?”

  “Why?” she challenged, feeling better by the minute.

  “Just…a little curious.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Okay, dammit, a lot curious.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to get involved?” She couldn’t resist putting a point on it.

  “I don’t, but—”

  “Okay. Let’s stop playing games. Eight months ago Aaron Fielding asked me to be his wife. I told him I wasn’t ready to be anybody’s wife until I found some direction in my life. Then I started this trip. I’ve met some nice guys along the way, but I haven’t allowed any romances to develop, because I’d have to give the same answer I gave Aaron, and Aaron asked me first.”

  “Do you think you’ll go back to him?”

  “I’ll go back to give my answer. Whether I say yes or no to his proposal, I have to tell him in person. That’s only fair.”

  “Do you know your answer?”

  “What does it matter to you?” Her heart was beating swiftly in response to the chances they were taking in this conversation. “You said you aren’t interested in a relationship with me.” And it isn’t true, she thought, looking into his eyes.

  He rubbed his chin and gazed at her. “The more I’m around you, the more I forget that I’m not interested in a relationship,” he admitted.

  Her insides quivered. She had to stop this. Didn’t she? “You were negligee shopping today. Who for?”

  “And why would you care?” he countered with a smile. “You’re not interested in a relationship with me.”

  “I’ve confided in you about Aaron. You can at least tell me who the nightgown is for.”

  “If I tell you, you won’t believe me,” he said.

  “I might.”

  He took a deep breath. “I honestly thought about buying it for you.”

  Jill flopped back in the chair and stared up at the shiny insulation in the ceiling. “We have big trouble here.”

  “That depends.”

  She brought her gaze back to him. “Did you buy it?”

  “No. I figured you wouldn’t accept it from me.”

  She rubbed the worn arms of the chair and looked away from his tempting brown eyes, his slightly parted lips. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have. Couldn’t. I’ve promised myself that I—Anyway, aren’t we getting sidetracked? We’re supposed to be discussing the mall.”

  “All right. Let’s discuss the mall,” he said easily. “We have to do that eventually, anyway.”

  She glanced away from the knowing gleam in his eyes. He could afford to be a little patient, and he knew it. “Got something I can write on?”

  “I think so.” Spence leaned down to peer under the bed. “I gave Charlie a few legal pads. The guy’s a self-made scholar, I guess. He’s always reading and taking notes. Yeah, here’s an unused one.” He pulled the yellow pad of paper from under the bed and dusted it off. Then he took a ballpoint pen from the pocket of his shirt and handed the pen and paper to Jill. “Where do we start?”

  She tried to ignore the inner turmoil caused by his hand brushing her knee. “I’ve had time to think about this while I was painting, and I’d suggest a meeting of the tenants as soon as possible.” She rested the pad across her tingling knee. “Find out where we stand.”

  “I agree.”

  “If we delivered flyers tomorrow, the meeting could take place the following night. Then you’d know how many are in your camp, and who would be willing to put pressure on the management to keep the mall the way it is.” The scent of his after-shave was driving her crazy. She might have known he’d wear something she liked.

  He nodded. “Good. We can set the meeting for seven. Most everyone can leave their clerks in charge for an hour or two. Can you spare the time then?”

  “Day after tomorrow?” She struggled to concentrate on the business at hand. “I should be finished with the windows by then, and sure, I can be there. I’ll design the flyers before I le
ave tonight and you can have them run off at the photocopying shop.” She scribbled a note about the time of the meeting. “It’ll be handy, having so many conveniences right here. The mall reminds me of a small town, in a way.”

  “That’s what Charlie says. According to him, the concept of a shopping mall gave him a whole new lease on life. It’s almost as if he didn’t realize they existed until now. How could he not know that?”

  “Charlie seems to have missed lots of things,” Jill said, doodling on the edge of the pad. “He’s either eccentric or senile.” She laughed nervously. “Or someone from another planet. Maybe all those science fiction stories about aliens are true.”

  “If so, Charlie would be from Venus, with all his talk about love.”

  Her gaze was drawn to his, the word love sitting between them like a dimpled Cupid demanding attention. Jill glanced at her doodles and realized they were hearts with arrows through them. She’d been painting too many valentine messages recently. “Where shall we hold the meeting?” she asked, making cross-hatch marks over the hearts until they were obliterated.

  “We can use the museum.” Spence massaged the back of his neck. “Damn, I hope people support this. Tippy’s promised increased revenue and lower rents. I’m willing to pay a little more in rent to support the museum and the trolley, but I can’t vouch for the others, and friendly persuasion has never been my long suit. I get impatient if people don’t immediately see what I want them to see.”

  Jill smiled. “Like today, when I wouldn’t take your job offer?”

  “Like today. Charlie’s persistence is what got you here. Incidentally, I will pay you for this. We never agreed on an amount, or whether you’d like an hourly wage or a flat fee.”

  “To tell the truth, I’d like my wages in merchandise. My Coleman stove’s about had it, and I noticed a few other supplies out there I could use.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re camping across the country?”

  “Sort of. Whenever I can find something like a KOA campground.”

  He looked skeptical. “Out of necessity, or do you like doing that?”