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The Long Road to Love

Page 2

by Mary Crawford


  “Call if you need anything,” I instruct as I watch my granddaughter rush out the door.

  For a moment, I just awkwardly stare at Rex.

  “Jett said you wanted me to swing by,” he comments, breaking the silence.

  I reach over to the TV tray beside me. “Um … I think you left these behind when you were remodeling my shop.”

  He takes the glasses from me. “Oh, I must’ve dropped these the day when I caught Libby. I drove myself crazy trying to find them. These are my computer glasses.”

  I shoot him a puzzled glance. “You’re remodeling the whole shop simply because Libby almost fell down?”

  He looks profoundly disappointed by my question. Instantly, I wonder what I’ve done to disappoint him. “I was hoping to surprise you,” he explains. “Who spilled the beans?”

  “One of our regular suppliers was visiting his mom in the hospital and happened to walk by my room. He stopped in for a brief chat and complimented me on all the improvements to my store. Imagine how awkward it was when I didn’t know there had been any improvements. Last I knew, poor Libby was trying to manage the chaos with just a broom, a dustpan, and a little Windex.”

  Rex looks a little uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I never meant to embarrass you. It started out as a simple cleanup project to help you deal with the mess the hooligans left behind. One thing led to another and soon it grew into a competition to try to fix anything which might be causing you difficulty at the shop. You know how it gets with us guys. We try to one up each other when it comes to how creative we can be with our projects. It was a blast. I love woodworking projects and since I don’t get to do things with my hands in my job, I guess I got a little carried away. I hope you like what I’ve done. I didn’t mean to take over your shop, honest.”

  Tears threaten as I look at him and search his face. “You barely know me. We only talked for a few minutes the other day. I might be mistaken because things are a little fuzzy from that day. I was really sick — but the only reason I know your last name at all, is because you had a business card stuck in your glasses case. Otherwise I would’ve had to call Jade to figure out who you are. Why would you go out of your way to help somebody like me? Do you even know my name?”

  “Yes, I know your name, Nancy Williams. I know your friends speak very highly of you. I know you have worked yourself to the point of utter exhaustion trying to keep your daughter’s business afloat. I understand you’re operating with a part-time staff and a shoestring budget so your daughter could move to California to be with her husband while he attends college. That’s admirable and hard as heck. It takes courage and guts. I just wanted to help you out.”

  I sigh and cover my face with my hands before a fresh round of rib-splitting coughs overtakes me. Once I can catch my breath, I reply, “I love my new friends over at Ink’d Deep, but they really need to learn the definition of ‘private conversation’.”

  Rex chuckles. “I know what you mean. They put a whole new spin on the phrase ‘community involvement’. Honestly I don’t know what I would do without them.”

  “So, you’re more than a client of Ink’d Deep, too?”

  “I started out as Jett’s client, but over the years I’d like to think we’ve become close friends. He and Diamond helped me cope with the loss of my fiancé and I was there with them when their son Onyx committed suicide.”

  I swallow hard. “Your life is never the same when you lose a child.”

  “I agree. When someone you love dies, it changes you. Jett told me about Owen. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  I wipe away tears. “Thank you. I’m just lucky my beautiful daughters have the grace to still speak to me. I know I probably deserved much less.”

  Rex leans over and pats my leg. “Sometimes, there are miracles lurking where you least expect them. When you’re feeling better and want to see what Jett and his gang have been up to, let me know. I’d love to play tour guide.”

  My heart speeds up when he touches me — not from fear and queasiness as it did in the last few years I was with George, but rather, it’s an odd sense of giddiness. It’s like the warm sense of anticipation I felt in junior high when I found out the cutest kid in class had a crush on me.

  I have to clear my throat before I muster the courage to blurt, “I’d love that.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  REX

  I FEEL RIDICULOUS AS I drive the large Lincoln to Nancy’s home. Even so, I chose it because it has so many more creature comforts than my beat up old pickup or my motorcycle. Although Florida doesn’t get bone-chillingly cold this time of year, it would probably be best if Nancy doesn’t get chilled at all, given her fragile medical state. Besides, heated leather seats never hurt anyone this time of year. I grab the roses from the back seat and straighten my tie as I walk up the path to the little cottage behind Jett and Diamond’s house.

  When Nancy opens the door, she scrutinizes me from head to toe. “Oh dear! Obviously, I’m underdressed for wherever we’re going,” she says as she turns away. When I reach out to stop her, she flinches.

  I draw my hand back as I explain, “No, wait! It’s me who’s overdressed. I just came from work and I haven’t had a chance to change my clothes yet. You look beautiful.”

  Nancy looks down at herself. “It’s only a turtleneck and jeans — beautiful might be a bit of a stretch.” She grabs her purse and coat. She seems a little befuddled when I offer to help her put it on. Nancy gives a happy little shrug and allows me to help her. Her eyes widen after she finishes locking up the house and sees the car. “Why are we taking a limo just to go see the shop?”

  “This isn’t really a limo. This is my company car — actually that’s not quite true. This is the car we use when we want to schmooze other bank executives.”

  Nancy looks at me blankly. “Why?”

  A burst of laughter erupts from me. “You know, that’s a good question. I’m not sure what it accomplishes. I guess it’s just tradition.”

  “George didn’t trust banks. When Savannah gave me the job at Paint Your Art Out, Shelby had to teach me how to use a bank again. I hadn’t used one since my daughters were teeny. I didn’t even know what an ATM card was.”

  “Seriously? It might simply be an occupational hazard, but I can’t imagine living in a world without banks. How could you even pay your bills in today’s world of computerized everything?”

  “We didn’t have any bills. George did everything in his power to make me and the kids absolutely invisible. We weren’t on anyone’s radar.”

  I glance over at her and take in her beautiful, platinum blonde hair sprinkled through with gray, her pale blue eyes and engaging smile. “I find it hard to believe you wouldn’t stand out from the crowd anytime, anywhere — but that’s just me.”

  Nancy reaches out and runs her fingers across mine in the lightest of strokes. “Thank you. You really know how to make me feel like a million bucks.”

  Together, we walk up to Nancy’s storefront. I move behind her and ask her to close her eyes. “Believe me, it will be worth it.”

  “I won’t be able to see anything, and I’ll probably trip over something and fall. I can’t afford to land in the hospital again,” she points out logically.

  “Trust me, I’ll protect you and keep you safe.”

  Nancy stiffens and crosses her arms around her waist. “It’s nothing personal, Rex — but these days, I find it hard to trust anyone. I don’t think I ever will.”

  I resist the urge to reach up and wipe the stress lines from her brow. “Hopefully, my friends and I will help restore your faith in humanity.”

  I take the keys from her trembling hand and open the shop, flipping the lights on as the melodic chimes sound, announcing our arrival.

  For a moment, she simply stands at the front of her store and turns in a wide circle as she takes everything in. She gasps softly before she turns back and bolts into my arms. She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight.

 
“Thank you so much. This is perfect. It’s right out of my dreams. I used to hang out at a library with strikingly similar ladders. I dreamed one day I would have a library in my own home filled with bookcases from floor-to-ceiling with ladders just like that.” She pauses for a moment to wipe away tears with a crumpled Kleenex. “I know Savannah’s store isn’t really my home, but it’s become the closest thing to a home I could ever have.”

  Instinctively, I place my arms around her waist. “I’m glad you like it,” I say as I swallow a lump in my throat.

  “I still don’t understand why you would do something like this for me,” she protests.

  Remembering my manners, I step back and place my arms at my side. “Once when I was just a little boy, my father was drunk — like he often was — and he set fire to our house while he was working on a car in the garage. Of course, he didn’t remember the whole thing, but if it hadn’t been for the kindness of strangers, we would have been homeless.”

  “That’s awful, I’m so sorry. It must’ve been hard on you as a child.”

  “Though it was hard in the beginning, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. My mom, who had never worked outside the home a day in her life, ended up working for, and then owning, a successful chain of daycare centers. Helping her with the books is what got me started on a career in finance.”

  “There’s nothing like a disaster to wake you up and get you started on the right path. I learned my lesson the hard way,” she comments with a haunted look.

  My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and read the message. I grimace and let out a heavy sigh as I realize the implications. I glance up at Nancy. “I’m so sorry. Something has come up at work. I can drop you back at your place or swing by later to pick you up, if you’d like.”

  “You’ve already done far too much. I was supposed to meet my daughter, Shelby, for lunch anyway. I’ll just have her come here. I want her to see all of this. It’s like a holiday miracle. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “I was honored to pay it forward. Enjoy.” With a great sense of regret, I turn and walk away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NANCY

  “LIBBY, WHEN YOU have a moment, can you go outside and see if this display is straight? I can never tell from in here,” I yell across the store as I try to arrange items in the window display.

  Just then, the chimes on the door ring. An older lady and a young girl in a wheelchair come through the door followed by an older gentleman.

  The little girl makes a beeline toward all the beading sets while the older woman focuses on the stained-glass pieces. The gentleman seems really focused on the ceramic items we have available for painting. He looks up at the woman he came in with. “Gwendolyn, come look at these. They’re great. Aidan should get several for his day camp. They would make great souvenirs for the kids to take home.”

  “You know, that’s not such a bad idea,” she answers. “Maybe we should have Maddie make one to commemorate her trip to Disney World. Aidan would love it. They even have coffee mugs. You know how much coffee that man drinks. Madeleine, let’s go see what Papa wants.”

  The little girl pushes her wheelchair over to the ceramic display. “May I paint one?”

  Gwendolyn picks up a box and studies it. Sadly, she shakes her head. “I’m sorry Maddie, this says it would take too long to dry. We have to leave for the airport in a couple of hours.”

  I put the window decorations down and walk over to my customers. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m Nancy. Do you have a few minutes to hang around a bit?”

  “Hi Nancy, I’m Denny and this is my wife, Gwendolyn, and our grand-god-daughter Maddie. We’re from Oregon and we just came to visit Disney World.” He looks at his watch. “We have a little while before we have to go to the airport.”

  “It turns out my display piece recently got broken. Would you like to paint another one for me?” I ask Maddie.

  She nods eagerly.

  “I’ll send you pictures when it’s finished processing.” I hand Denny a piece of paper. “If you write down your contact information and the piece of pottery you want to order, I’ll send you one. That way you won’t need to worry about protecting it on the flight. I can give you a discount for your trouble.”

  “Oh, please don’t bother,” Gwendolyn insists. “I own a small floral business. I know what it’s like. You just charge us your normal price, please. Your shop is delightful, and I love all the tole paintings. I wish we lived closer because I’d love to take classes. I’ve always wanted to learn how to do it, but I’m intimidated.”

  As I set out the painting materials for Madeleine and slide a plastic apron over her head, I say, “It’s funny you should ask. I had great plans for a class to make beautiful Christmas decorations. Then, life derailed my plans in a big way and I ended up in the hospital. So far, I haven’t figured out how to make up for the time I lost.” I place paint on a palette for Maddie. I look down at her and instruct, “I have enough brushes. You can use a different brush for each color. You may use all the colors or only a few. It’s up to you.”

  “Can I paint a Christmas tree? You don’t have any trees in Florida like we have in Oregon. Your trees look funny here.”

  “I agree. Palm trees are different. I think a Christmas tree would be perfect.”

  After Maddie has been painting quietly for a couple of minutes, Gwendolyn asks, “Have you ever thought about offering your classes online?”

  I let loose with a peal of laughter. “I’m sorry, you don’t know me well enough to understand how funny your suggestion is. I barely know how to turn a computer on. There’s no way I could offer a class over the computer. I still struggle to use my cell phone.”

  Denny chuckles. “I used to be the same way. But my grandson set me straight. He is a whiz at these things. He is like a social media guru.”

  “My husband is not exaggerating. Our grandson started creating anime when he was in junior high school. He’s even had some of his work featured on television. Anyway, he does amazing things on YouTube. He convinced me to do a floral arranging class on YouTube. It wasn’t nearly as difficult as I thought it might be. Actually, it was fun.”

  “Pardon me for asking, but can you make any money that way?” I press, trying not to sound rude.

  “Oh yes! People ordered supplies directly from my shop. Denny and I shipped a supply box and there was an enrollment fee. We were able to reach far more people than we would have ever fit in my little store.”

  “Do you think I have time? It’s already the first week of November. I was planning to hold the class during the second week of December.”

  Denny grimaces. “That might be a little tight. Let me talk to Gabriel about the camera equipment you’ll need. I might contact one of my friends here locally. Tristan will be able to hook you up with a local supplier for the camera equipment. He does all sorts of surveillance stuff through his company, Identity Bank — he knows his camera equipment.”

  “Tristan Macklin?” I ask, as my jaw goes slack. “You mean the one married to Rogue, the tattoo artist?”

  Denny nods. “Yeah, you know them?”

  “Yes, they are my friends and Rogue’s boss is my landlord.”

  “Well, this is one of those small world moments, for sure. It will certainly make things easier. Gabriel can just tell Tristan what he uses for his YouTube set up and Tristan can get one of the teenagers from his gaming clubs to help you set it up and give you a hand with the social media piece.”

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. My granddaughter, Ketki, knows all about that stuff. She is forever telling me about Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat. I bet she'd be thrilled to help me.”

  Maddie gingerly holds up the plate she’s been painting. “I can help too, see?”

  “You sure can. If I ever get all this organized, I’d love to have you help me teach a class on painting. You did a great job.”

  “We’d love to come back,” Gwen
dolyn says with a sigh. “Unfortunately, we need to go. Here is my phone number. Please call me, I would like to put you in touch with my grandson. I think it would be phenomenal if you could share your shop with people on the Internet. I would love to take classes from you.”

  “Thanks for giving me the push I needed to put myself out there. You’ll never know how much it means to me,” I say as I hand Gwendolyn a business card with my cell number on the back. “I hope I really do see you in my classes.”

  Gwendolyn smiles up at Denny. “I know exactly what you mean. I had someone who believed in me when I was too frightened to believe in myself. I know it can make a world of difference. Just know you have fans in Oregon who are rooting for you. Good luck with everything.”

  As I watch the family leave the shop, I can barely contain my excitement as my mind is whirling with dozens of new ideas.

  “Okay Grandma, I set up a Facebook page for Paint Your Art Out. It automatically links to the Instagram and Pinterest accounts I set up for the business. I talked to Gabriel, and he sent schematics over for me to set up all the cameras in your workspace for the class. What a cool guy! It’s too bad he’s too busy to play video games. Are you ready to send the message?”

  “What message?” I ask, feeling a bit lost. All this computer talk still sounds like gibberish.

  Ketki looks exasperated. “Grandma, we talked about this. You need to send a Christmas message to all your fans to let them know about the class and to invite them to subscribe to your YouTube channel.”

  “Do I actually have fans?”

  “We’re working on it. Lots of people like you, Grandma. They think what you do is neat. We had a few flyers made up and they’re planning to put them out at the coffee shop next door. Of course, Jade will put them out at Ink’d Deep. I’m sure if people hear about the class, they’ll be interested. Having a presence on social media will help.”

  “Do you really think so?” I ask skeptically. “I’m simply a nobody who teaches a painting class. I’m not anybody famous.”

 

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