Chapter 22
What the hell?
Late for a meeting with Spencer, Caleb had been climbing into his Jeep when a VW Bug pulled past him in the driveway and disappeared into the garage. He stood on the gravel blinking, wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. What he thought he saw couldn’t be right. Who painted a car two different colors?
Stepping closer, he watched Hattie exit the moving art piece with several bags in her hands. Caleb couldn’t stop staring at the car. The front end was sky blue and covered with white puffy clouds, while the back end faded into a deep purple sprinkled with tiny stars.
“What did you do to that car?” he asked, spotting the circle on the roof that was half sun and half moon.
“I painted it,” Hattie said, reaching into the car for more bags.
The colors blended perfectly in the middle. “You had it painted like this? ”
Withdrawing from the vehicle, she answered, “No. I painted it. Now are you going to help me carry this crap or not?”
Caleb hopped to attention, realizing she’d set several bags at his feet. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, collecting the groceries off the garage floor. The older woman stayed busier than a beaver during dam season, so while he had her here, Caleb took the opportunity to pay her the balance on Snow’s ring. “I have the rest of the ring money for you.”
“I thought we were doing that in installments,” she said, charging toward the side of the house. A dark ball cap teetered on her gray curls, and the usual giant sunglasses shaded her eyes. “I’ve heard you’re doing well at the paper, but that doesn’t mean you have to give me all your earnings at once.”
“Actually,” he said when they reached the porch, “I had the money before I got the job.”
Hattie stopped in her tracks, spun his way, and narrowed her eyes. “You had five thousand dollars sitting around while you were in between jobs?”
If he and Snow would be making a home in Ardent Springs, Caleb thought it time to let people know the truth about who he was. At least the folks who deserved to know. “You ever heard of McGraw Media?”
“Of course I have.” Her words were clipped with offense, as if he’d insulted her intelligence.
Caleb raised his brows in answer and waited for the revelation to sink in. Once understanding lit her face, he said, “I didn’t mean to mislead you. Guess I wanted to make my way without throwing around my family’s name.”
The older woman gaped at him long enough for Caleb to grow uncomfortable. And then she laughed. Full-out, bent-over laughter. What was so funny, he didn’t know.
“Are you okay?” he asked, when the laughing faded into wheezing. Hattie waved her hands in some communication Caleb didn’t understand. Was she begging for help? Did she need a doctor? He prayed she wouldn’t need mouth-to-mouth.
“This is hysterical,” she said as she straightened. “I offered a McGraw a job at a newspaper.” Removing the sunglasses to wipe tears from her eyes, Hattie added, “We must be the dinkiest operation you’ve ever seen.”
“The Advocate is small.” Caleb couldn’t argue that. “But I wouldn’t call it dinky. You run a solid operation with a lot of history. That paper offers an irreplaceable service to this town. Not all papers can say that.”
Her laughter diminished to a chuckle as she propped the sunglasses on the bill of her cap. “Are you defending my own paper to me?” she asked. Then before he could answer, she said, “You really like it over there, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He liked his job, but he liked being part of the community more. And Caleb really liked that whatever respect he’d earned had been on his terms, and a result of his hard work. Not because of who he was, who his father was, or how much his family was worth.
A broad smile stretched the wrinkles along Hattie’s pale skin. “I’m glad to know my instincts are still as sharp as ever.” She drew the screen door wide and shoved the interior door open. “I had a feeling about you from the moment I caught you nosing around my garage. Though I guess my money sniffer is on the fritz. I didn’t see that coming at all.”
Caleb followed her inside. “To be fair, my dad has all the money. I mean,” he corrected, “I have some of my own, but he runs the company. He’s the man behind McGraw Media, not me.”
“If what Wally tells me is true,” Hattie said as she set her two bags at the bottom of the stairs, “you could take over the family business tomorrow and not miss a beat.”
He appreciated the compliment, but Caleb had no desire to be handed a conglomerate anytime soon. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather keep doing what I’m doing. ”
“And we’d like you to keep doing it, too. I was worried there for a bit, as we got closer to Gerald’s retirement.” An unpleasant expression crossed her face. “Don’t know what that man is thinking. He’s going to be bored out of his mind inside of a week.”
Caleb added his bags to the ones Hattie had set on the floor. “I don’t know about that. His wife has already booked them on a Caribbean cruise for January, and then she’s dragging him to Europe for two weeks at the end of March.”
“Dolly has been wanting to travel for as long as I can remember. Back in high school she was always talking about the places she’d go after graduation.”
“You went to school with Mrs. Nichols?”
“Yep.” Hattie plopped down on a step and rummaged through one of the bags. “We’re all Ardent Springs class of ’49.” Looking up, she added, “We were a mighty foursome.”
Gerald had mentioned that he and Dolly were high school sweethearts, but the two of them plus Hattie equaled three. “Did you say foursome?” he asked.
Hattie grew serious, a rush of loss filling her eyes. “Jack was my beau,” she said. “We lost him in Korea.”
With those simple words, the pieces fell into place. Miss Hattie had never been a Mrs. because she never got the chance.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Caleb said, out of his depth on how to console the elderly woman.
She took in a deep breath and let it out, shaking her arms as she did so. “Ancient history. So you want to pay off the ring?”
“Yes.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed over the check he’d written earlier in the week. “I had the ring appraised to make sure I paid you what it’s worth.”
Lifting the reading glasses from their ever-present chain, Hattie squinted at the slip of paper. “But this is two thousand over my asking price. ”
“Like I said, I want to pay you what it’s worth.” In truth, the ring had appraised at only five hundred over the original price, but the sentimental connection was worth more than that. She looked ready to argue, so Caleb cut her off. “I need to head out,” he said. “Spencer is going to think I got lost.”
As he turned to leave, Hattie said, “Tell that boy to call me. I want to add new cupboards to my craft room, and I want the same ones we put in the kitchen this past summer.” Caleb looked back to see her waving the check in the air. “I’m finally going to get the craft room I’ve always wanted.”
Delighted to see the childish joy in her eyes, Caleb said, “Yes, ma’am. Oh, and you should probably know that later today, I’m going to see a man about a house.”
With bushy gray brows floating high on her forehead, she said, “You’re full of surprises today, Mr. McGraw.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Who are you using?”
“Ronnie Ottwell,” he answered.
She nodded approval. “Good choice. When you’re ready, see Myrna over at First Federal. Tell her I sent you.”
Caleb hadn’t planned on taking out a mortgage, but he kept the fact to himself. “I’ll do that, thanks.”
He’d taken two steps toward the door when Hattie asked, “Does that mean we’ll be having a wedding soon?”
Preferring to keep any wedding talk between him and Snow, he said, “You never know,” and made his exit before the older woman could push for a better answer.
Snow hummed a Beatles tune while she worked, pulling items that had been in the inventory long enough to earn a steep discount for the holiday season. Business had already picked up, forcing her to officially add Lorelei to the sales staff. The baker was proving to be an asset, holding down the entire store while Snow went back and forth between the sales floor and the stockroom.
“There you are,” said a familiar voice as Snow was gathering a collection of Christmas-themed dishes. “Let me see your finger.” Hattie looked as excited as a child about to open her favorite toy, but Snow had no idea what the woman was talking about.
“It’s nice to see you, Miss Hattie. You have something for me to try on?” Her landlady maintained a booth in the store with small antiques for sale, but she’d never offered a piece of jewelry before.
“Don’t be silly.” Propping her reading glasses on the end of her nose, she said, “Come on. Let me see it.”
There was definitely a miscommunication here. “Let you see what?” Snow asked, holding out her hands to show her bare fingers.
“But ...” Hattie took Snow’s left hand, turning it over as if whatever she expected to be there might appear with a flip and a shake. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“Wearing what?” Had Miss Hattie’s age caught up to her? Was the woman suddenly imagining conversations that never happened?
Dropping Snow’s hand, Miss Hattie barked, “I don’t understand. Why did he—”
“Is there a problem?” Lorelei asked as she joined them.
“This little lady’s supposed to have a ring on her finger.”
“We haven’t gotten around to that yet,” Snow said, feeling as if she were somehow disappointing the older woman. Maybe she should see if there was a ring in the store that would suffice until she and Caleb could pick out something new. While she was distracted, trying to remember what she had available in the jewelry display, Lorelei whispered something in Miss Hattie’s ear that Snow couldn’t make out.
The older woman’s eyes went wide at the same moment her mouth clamped shut.
“You think?” Hattie said .
With lips pressed tight, Lorelei nodded that she did indeed think.
“Think what?” Snow asked.
“I’ve got to go,” Hattie said, backing away. “Don’t mind me, my dear. I’m old.” She made the universal sign for crazy next to her ear.
“Okay,” she said as the older woman beat a hasty retreat. What exactly just happened? “Lorelei,” she said, turning her attention to the person who seemed to know something Snow didn’t. “What was that about?”
“Like she said. She’s old.” Waving to an invisible customer, Lorelei added, “I’d better get back to work,” and bid a farewell of her own.
Snow wasn’t an idiot. Miss Hattie had expected her to be wearing a ring, which was fair enough, since Caleb had told the older woman that they were engaged back when he first arrived. But what had Lorelei whispered in the woman’s ear that would make her take off like that? It wasn’t as if her fiancé needed to spring a proposal on her. They’d crossed that bridge nearly two years ago.
Something fishy was going on, and Snow intended to find out exactly what it was.
The day had been a success. Cooper agreed, with less arm twisting than Caleb had expected, to become the cruise-in guru on the Ruby Restoration Committee. They set a goal kickoff date of late March and locked down enough details for Spencer to present the idea at the next committee meeting, which wouldn’t be for two weeks due to the Thanksgiving holiday. By the time Caleb had driven off for his next appointment, Cooper had created a contact list of every old car enthusiast he knew. Without a doubt, this would give the cause massive publicity while creating a steady income stream.
All they had to do was sell the rest of the committee on the idea, and among the three of them, that would not be a problem. He hoped. There was always Jebediah Winkle and his cronies, who attempted to stifle any idea they didn’t come up with on their own. Not that they’d offered a single suggestion that Caleb knew of.
His afternoon meeting was the real victory of the day. Not that anything was decided until Snow had her say, but he’d liked the house and hoped she would, too. Buying a home in Ardent Springs was the perfect solution to keep Caleb’s parents’ negative attitudes out of his marriage.
“You’ve been cooking again,” Snow said as she stepped into the house. “I could smell it before I reached the porch.”
“I didn’t soak those beans overnight for nothing.” Caleb gave the sausage and beans a stir. “This is authentic Louisiana red beans and rice. Prepare to lose your mind.”
He scooped a piece of andouille sausage onto the wooden spoon and offered her a bite. The moment it hit her tongue, amber eyes closed with sheer pleasure.
“That is delicious,” she said around the food. “How long have you been working on this?”
“All afternoon.” Caleb checked his rice. “And in less than fifteen minutes, we’ll be chowing down on the best food ever invented.”
Snow leaned over the pan of sausage and breathed deep. “What about gumbo?” she asked.
He’d forgotten about gumbo. How did a Cajun forget about gumbo? “You’re right. We’ll be chowing down on the second-best food ever invented. So how was your day?”
“Funny you should ask,” Snow said, sliding past him to pull a glass off the shelf. “Miss Hattie came into the store today.”
Caleb’s hand hesitated in stirring the rice. He hadn’t expected Hattie to see Snow before he did, which meant he hadn’t asked her to keep the house thing a secret.
“She did, huh?” he asked, keeping his attention on the stove.
Filling her glass from the faucet, she said, “Yes. And she seemed to know something that I don’t.”
So much for his big surprise. “I was going to wait until after dinner. ”
“Wait until after dinner for what?” Snow set her glass on the counter and then wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her cheek against his back. “You aren’t really going to make me wait, are you?”
“All right.” Caleb extricated himself from her arms and wiped his hands on his apron. “Since the surprise is ruined.” He disappeared into the bedroom and returned seconds later with his hand behind his back. “If you don’t like it, we can look at something else. And I want you to be honest. Don’t say you like it to make me happy.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” she said, her eyes glowing.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Here we go.” Caleb pulled a flier from behind his back and held it under her nose. “What do you think?”
“I ...” Snow’s eyes dimmed and clouded with confusion. “I don’t know what to say.” She tried to cover her disappointment while shoving the curls off her forehead. “What is it, exactly?”
Caleb glanced over the top of the slip of paper. “What does it look like?”
“It’s a real estate ad,” she answered. “For some house over on Green Street.”
“Three bedrooms, two baths, fenced yard, and still under construction so we can decide on the finishings we want.” Caleb tapped a picture in the bottom corner. “Two-car garage in the back, and we’ll have to do some landscaping, but that’s easy enough.”
“Hold up.” Snow took several steps away. “You bought us a house?”
“No,” he assured her, kicking himself for doing this all wrong. “I looked at it to make sure it was worth you taking time away from the store to check it out.” Caleb had expected Snow to be happy that he really wanted to settle down here. That they could have their own place. A real home. “We can look at something else. It doesn’t have to be this one.”
“You went to see this?” she asked, nodding toward the flier. “Today?”
“I did,” he said, feeling like an idiot. Of course he should have included her from the beginning. “We can forget it for now.” Caleb returned to the stove, removing pans from burners and pulling plates from the bottom shelf.
As he loaded the first scoop of rice onto a plate, Snow said, “I don’t know what to say.”
Trying not to sound disappointed, Caleb said, “You don’t have to say anything.”
“Of course I do,” she said. “You want us to buy a house in Ardent Springs. That’s a big step. That deserves a response.”
He’d hoped her response would be a little more than “I don’t know what to say.”
“We don’t have to buy anything,” he said, turning to face her. “If you’re not ready—”
Snow set the flier on the counter as if it were on fire. “ We’re not ready.”
Caleb ran a hand through his hair. “Will you at least look at it? For me?”
If she’d only walk through the front door, she’d see the life they could have. A married couple needed a place they could make their own. That was the rational next step. Caleb just had to convince her.
Snow looked as if he’d asked her to drink vinegar, but she said, “I’ll go, but I’m not making any promises.”