by Andrea Boyd
“Do these babies belong to you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took a step closer so he could point them out. “My oldest is Kensli, and this little one right here is Riley.”
The other salesmen at Weaver Dodge liked to poke fun at him because his wall was covered in photos of his girls, while theirs displayed pictures of cars. He was sure the boss would’ve protested if the photos in question hadn’t been of that man’s own grandchildren.
“I couldn’t help but notice, their mother is in none of these pictures. She didn’t pass, did she?” Jamie touched his arm and gazed up at him with a look of concern, along with a sort of misplaced excitement that left him feeling confused.
“No, ma’am. She left us a couple of years ago.”
“So, you’re divorced?”
“Yes, ma’am.” A year after Jenna left, he’d been served with divorce papers. She’d given him complete custody of the girls, so he’d had no problem signing the papers. He didn’t need a wife. They were doing just fine without her.
Jamie patted his arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It must be rough raising two little girls on your own.”
Aiden felt a tingling at the back of his neck. Her somber words didn’t match her expression. How could he end this conversation without being rude? “Not at all. Our lives are infinitely better without her.”
“This one here looks just like you.” The inquisitive woman tapped one of the pictures of Kensli.
The truth was, neither one of the girls looked like him. Kensli had blond hair and blue eyes like him, but that was where the similarities ended. Riley looked even less like him with her jet-black hair and chocolate-brown eyes. He understood the curiosity, but the details were no one’s business. He’d learned long ago not to respond to the overt remarks.
The one calling herself Aunt Ginger placed a hand on her hip and huffed. “Jamie, we didn’t come here to waste this young man’s time. Son, I’m looking to buy a car. Can you help me?”
“Yes, ma’am. I sure can. Let’s have a seat while you tell me what you’re interested in.” Relieved to move away from the subject of his personal life and finally get down to business, Aiden moved around his desk and waited for them to take a seat before sitting down.
“Now, the last time I was here, I dealt with your granddaddy, God rest his soul, and he sold me a brand new, 1970 Challenger. I want another one just like it.”
He scratched his head, trying to think of the best place to find what she was looking for. “We do have a selection of used cars, but most don’t go back that far. I can search around for one and see what we can come up with, but it might take some time.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t need another 1970 Challenger. I still have the one your granddaddy sold me. I want a new one, but I want it to match the old one.”
Aiden tried not to look surprised. “We might have to special order it. It’ll probably cost a little more than one you’d pick off the lot.”
“That’s fine. It’s what I expected. Now my Beulah is Plum Crazy Purple with black stripes, a spoiler, and a hood scoop. I brought a picture with me, just let me find it.”
While Aunt Ginger dug around in her purse that was the size of a small suitcase, Jamie leaned in and smiled with the purpose of grabbing his attention. “So, are you seeing someone?”
Was she flirting with him? “No, ma’am. I haven’t dated since my wife left, and to tell the truth, I haven’t had much interest in it.”
The dating part would’ve been all right. It might be nice to have someone to hang out with in his free time, but he had no desire to feel the pain of rejection like he had when Jenna left. It may have been different years ago, but no one stayed together anymore. Most of his friends were separated or divorced—except for his best friend, Caleb. He said he was waiting for the one God had in mind for him. Aiden wondered if his friend wasn’t just plain scared that he might end up with someone like Jenna.
“Jamie, I know what you’re up to, and I don’t think this young man would appreciate your matchmaking skills.” Aunt Ginger gave her friend a pointed look even as she handed a picture across the desk to him.
“Yes, but he’d be perfect for Bailey. Don’t you think, Ginger?”
“No offense to Mr. Weaver, but we don’t know anything about him. Bailey has been hurt by enough men already. I’ve said it before, you need to leave that girl’s future in God’s capable hands.”
Aiden had to admit, he was a little put out by her comment. She made it sound like it was always men doing the hurting. That hadn’t been his experience.
Jamie’s shoulders dropped along with her smile. “I know, but I just hate to see two people by themselves who are lonely and broken when I know they could help each other heal.”
Aiden tried to relax the tightening of his jaw. How did she know if he was lonely and broken, or not? Even if it was true, she didn’t have to state it out loud like she did, right there in front of him, as if he wasn’t listening. He wanted to leave this whole discussion behind and fast.
Aiden cleared his throat and held up the picture when both women looked his way. “Miss Ginger, this sure is a pretty car. You said you want all the same features? Do you know what options this one came with, like what motor and transmission does it have?”
“It came with a Hemi. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Hold on, I have the original paperwork.” She went back to digging in her purse while he pulled up the special-order form on his desktop computer so he could start plugging in her order. It was time to move things along. He had a parade to get to.
“Do you go to church, Mr. Weaver?” Jamie was back at it again.
“You can call me Aiden, and yes, ma’am, I attend Community Fellowship over in Bethel Ridge.”
This added an extra gleam to her eyes, if that was even possible. She bumped her friend’s arm. “Did you hear that, Ginger?”
“Yes, I heard him.” She sounded just as annoyed as Aiden felt.
He reached for the faded pages she handed across his desk and started matching options with those on the computer screen. He tried to ignore the two ladies sitting across from him. Hard to do with him being the obvious topic of conversation.
When he was done, Aiden turned the computer screen toward his customer and started reading off specs as fast as he could but slow enough that she’d still be able to understand what he said. He wasn’t even thinking about the girls or the parade as he hurried along. He just wanted these women out of his office before Jamie started trying to set up a date between him and this Bailey.
Aunt Ginger flipped open the purple, rhinestone-encrusted reading glasses hanging from the beaded chain around her neck and perched them on the end of her nose. Her finger moved back and forth across the screen as she read each item listed.
He took a quick glance over at the friend and immediately brought his focus back to his customer, praying she’d hurry. The gleam in Jamie’s eyes made him feel like fresh roadkill about to be devoured.
“Perfect. Let’s do this. Go ahead and place the order, son. How long will it take to get here?”
“It usually takes around six weeks or so. After I send the order in, I’ll get a confirmation email with an estimated date of delivery. I can give you a call as soon as I know something. I’ll just need to do a credit check to finish this up.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be paying with cash.”
He tried to keep the shocked look off his face. She looked like your average everyday citizen, not someone who had this kind of dough to dish out on a brand-new, special-order vehicle.
“Okay, then I’ll just need your full name and address, and a down payment.”
This time there was less digging in her purse when she pulled out an overstuffed billfold. She slipped her license out, handed them to him without looking up, and then flipped to her checkbook and started writing.
Bertha Thompson. That was the name on her license. This woman was full of surprises and curiosities. Aiden
couldn’t help but look at the dark hair of the one sitting before him and compare it to the picture on her ID. It was definitely the same woman. If Aunt Ginger was a nickname, it sure was an odd one. She certainly didn’t have the red hair and freckles usually associated with the name Ginger.
Another peek at the smirk on Jamie’s face, and he was pretty sure she knew what was going through his mind at the moment. He went back to plugging the information into the computer at record speed.
After finishing up, he walked the ladies to the door feeling pretty good about his last transaction of the day. He still had plenty of time to pick the girls up and make it to the Christmas parade, and he was already looking forward to his commission from this sale. Plus, he’d managed to avoid any more digs into his personal life.
Almost home-free.
Aiden opened the door for the ladies to walk through, and Jamie stopped and turned to look back at him. “Will you be coming to Shiloh’s New Year’s Eve ball?”
He looked to Aunt Ginger, hoping she’d intervene like before, but all she did was raise her brows in question. “If you want, I can add your name and your date’s, if you have one, and you can pay your fee later.”
They both looked innocent—too innocent. Did they have an ulterior motive? The New Year’s Eve ball was Shiloh’s biggest event as it also marked the anniversary of its township. Since Jenna took off, he’d avoided that celebration like the plague. It was an event made for couples. If you didn’t bring a date, you were matched up with one. A shudder went through him. Right now, neither option sounded appealing.
“Let me think about it, and I’ll get back to you.” It was a diplomatic answer— noncommittal and one that wouldn’t offend his new customer.
Ginger shrugged a shoulder. “Well, don’t wait too long to think it over. We’re almost at capacity now.”
“I won’t. You ladies have a good evening, and I’ll be in touch shortly about the car.”
As soon as the door shut behind them, Aiden went for his jacket and headed out the back before anything else caused a delay.
BAILEY FOSTER CHECKED the settings on her camera, snapped a picture of her assistant, Macey, and then checked the image on the screen to make sure everything was just the way she wanted it.
“Bailey, are you ready to go yet? It’s too cold to stand in one spot.” Macey shifted from one foot to the other, her breath coming out in a white fog.
She smiled at the impatient teenager. “I’ll remind you of that when we get to the end of this and you start complaining about how tired you are and that your feet are hurting.” They had a long walk ahead of them as they followed the parade route from beginning to end.
The parade would start at three o’clock, so the floats had begun lining up on First Street just after lunchtime. Bailey walked down the line taking photos of the set-up. The sky was cloudy with an occasional appearance from the sun, making it a perfect day for pictures, but the cold had her fingers feeling stiff and clumsy. Macey had it right, it was too cold for standing still. She wished now that she’d worn something thicker than leggings under her skirt.
The Shiloh’s Elite Academy float was the last to line up. As she approached, the kids began to wave excitedly.
“It’s Miss Bailey!”
“Hi Miss Bailey!”
“Cheese!”
She snapped pictures as their greetings rang out, taking extra care to get a shot of every child on this float. These would be going up on the bulletin board in the front office of the daycare center.
One would think running a photography studio would be enough to keep anyone busy, but Bailey always felt she had too much time on her hands, so she’d also taken a part-time job at the academy. She was the official art instructor, which was a really pretentious title, considering the homely projects the preschoolers turned out. Despite her lack of experience, the owner, who was desperate for help and willing to work around Bailey’s photography business, hired her without question. Plus, she enjoyed spending time with the kids.
It was a good thing she didn’t work there on Wednesdays, or she would’ve had to ask for the day off to take photographs. Sure, the parade was lots of fun, but it was also a way to drum up business for the studio. As she focused on taking pictures, Macey followed along handing out business cards with details of how they could acquire photos from the parade. Hopefully, they would remember her the next time they needed a photographer.
Bailey checked her watch. She had ten minutes before the procession would start. Moving along the parade route, she headed down Main Street and started taking photos of the spectators. Eventually the parade would catch up to her. She anticipated the shots she’d get once the action started. Every once in a while, there would be another shout of Miss Bailey. She tried to throw her hand up each time, even if she couldn’t locate the caller among the crowd.
Just about the time the parade caught up to her, the first snowflakes began to fall. Everyone cheered and there were smiles all around. The forecast had only called for the possibility of a few flurries but nothing more. As long as it didn’t start coming down in earnest, this would make for some awesome shots. She steadily snapped pictures of those in the crowd and of the floats passing by.
One little boy caught her attention as he stood with his face up to the sky trying to capture snowflakes on his tongue. He seemed oblivious to the action around him. He reminded her of her ex-husband’s son, Tristan. She had so much wanted to be a mother to the boy, but her efforts were doomed from the beginning.
Bailey’s momma was the one who had introduced her to Jason Holis, and it had been a whirlwind romance from the start. He was a widower with an adorable little boy. After one date that included the three of them, Bailey had been head over heels.
Just three months after they met, the big white wedding with all the trimmings happened. A task made easier by the fact that marriage was the Foster family’s business. Bailey’s parents owned the Little Bit of Love Wedding Chapel. Daddy officiated and Momma did the planning. Every wedded desire could be met all at one place in their hometown. In addition to Bailey’s photography business, there was also a florist, a caterer, and a bridal shop owner in the family, not to mention a hair dresser and a dance instructor. All helped to make that big day even more special.
Everything had been picture-perfect for about six months. Then Jason started making trips to Columbia to see his sister, Trinity. These trips always seemed to fall on the weekends she had a photo shoot scheduled. Every time he loaded Tristan’s things into the car to head off without her, she felt abandoned.
The visits became more frequent, until about two weeks before their one-year anniversary when Jason sat Bailey down and told her that he’d fallen in love with someone else. He was headed to Columbia again and told her not to be there when he got back. She cried and pleaded to no avail. He claimed she was making things worse than they needed to be. Good grief, how much worse could it get?
Bailey moved back in with her parents thinking it would only be a temporary arrangement. Eventually, he’d come to his senses. Two months later, she was served with divorce papers. She had no idea a marriage could be dissolved that fast, but apparently, there was nothing to it if you were willing to admit to adultery. Bailey took back her last name, and Jason married his sister’s best friend, Olivia, the day after the divorce was final.
“Are you okay?”
Bailey lifted her camera and began snapping pictures without looking back at Macey. “I’m fine.”
A rumble sounded behind her, vibrating in her chest. She turned, anticipating the classic car, and watched as it slowly made its way down Main Street. The purple paint gleamed in the faint sunlight, as if a fresh coat had been applied. She snapped several pictures and then smiled and waved as Aunt Ginger passed by.
When she stopped to change her memory card, Bailey heard her name being shouted. She knew before looking up, that the high-pitched voice could belong to none other than Jamie Foster. Sure enough, here she came,
barreling across the street right in front of Shiloh High School’s marching band with her hand up as if she was directing traffic. The majorette’s eyes widened at the near collision.
“Bailey! Wait up. Oh, for goodness sakes, you can’t hear a thing with all this noise.” Her momma threw the band members a scornful look as they passed by while Bailey squatted down next to the parade route and resumed taking pictures. The band members’ black and silver uniforms against the gray sky above made for some awesome shots.
Momma pulled her teal peacoat closer together beneath her chin as Bailey turned and snapped a picture of her. “I just wanted to tell you, I found the perfect man for you. He has a good job, he’s a Christian, and he’s raising the cutest little girls all by himself.”
She stood and continued taking pictures as she spoke. “I told you after the last guy that I didn’t want you setting me up anymore. If I’m meant to date again, please just let the man ask me on his own, without interference.” Bailey gave her a pointed look before she started walking again. She had a job to do, and if her momma wanted to talk to her, she’d have to keep up.
“I’m not trying to set you up. He’s a car salesman. All you have to do is go to his job and act like you’re interested in buying a car.”
Bailey pulled her camera down and looked at her momma. “So now you think I’m so desperate that I need to lie and stalk a man just to get a date.” She shook her head and started walking again.
Momma followed. “Just listen. It isn’t like that. You really do need a car. Would you just stop...”
Bailey whipped around suddenly. “No, you just stop. Just stop it, Momma. I don’t mean to be mean, but that’s enough. I do not need or want you to set me up with a date. Look at where your meddling has gotten me so far.”
Her momma just stood there with her mouth open. She didn’t follow when Bailey turned to walk away, but guilt trailed along with her every step of the way.
Bailey squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t talked back to her momma since she was a teenager. But she deserved it. Hadn’t she tried being polite? It didn’t help. Maybe being rude was the only thing that would get through to the woman. Bailey walked on, taking pictures until the very end, but all the joy had been sucked out of the event.