Chapter Twelve
“I like the red one.” Sister bobbed her head at Sandra Lynn.
Sissy, on the other hand, shook her head. “Nope. The blue one. It shows her curves, but isn’t in your face like that cleavage to her belly button red dress.”
Cleavage to her belly button was probably an exaggeration, but it was much lower cut and she didn’t want to give Paxton the wrong idea. On the other hand, she was totally smitten and wanted to put her best foot—or dress—forward. Frustrated with everything in her closet, she finally decided that savings was good, but a new dress for a date with Paxton was better.
Staring at the blue short-sleeve sheath dress with a square neckline that showed just a hint of cleavage, she decided that Sissy was probably right.
Strolling home from Sisters, the blue dress in the pretty pink bag, she realized that she had not missed having a car. Her car was so old, Ned was having a hard time finding one last part she needed, but walking down Main Street she considered if just selling it didn’t make more sense. She’d have a little extra money to stash in her almost depleted emergency fund. That would make a lot more sense. Of course, it helped to have at least one vehicle in case of emergency. Though she couldn’t imagine anything that would require driving, she was too aware that fate had a way of laughing at people when they pretend that all was well with the world.
Turning the corner on her mother’s street, her gaze immediately darted to the old Victorian set back from the curb. As much as she’d hated giving up the ranch land, during high school she had loved living in town. Hopefully, her son would learn to love Tuckers Bluff, and unlike her, wouldn’t be tempted to leave due to young adult wanderlust. Reaching her mom’s house, she turned the knob and stepped into the old house. Expecting David to come barreling across the house to greet her, finding the house so quiet always surprised her. Setting the dress on the chair by the entry table, she started for the kitchen when her mother came trotting down the stairs and scurried right past her.
“Where’s the fire?” she followed after her mother.
“David’s not feeling well. I convinced him to lie down in bed. Now, I’m going to make him my special apple peel tea. See if that settles his stomach.” Her mom was already pouring water into a pan.
Nodding, she took a step in retreat. “I’d better go check on him.”
“Go on up. Maybe seeing his mama will make him feel better.”
Halfway up the stairs, her mother let out a screech muffled with a very unladylike string of words. Unsure of who needed her more, she figured her mom had most likely left David nicely tucked into bed. On the other hand, she had no idea what was going on in the kitchen. “You okay?”
Eyes squinted almost closed, and her arms shoving towels into the sink, her mom appeared to be doing her best to stifle the eruption of Old Faithful. Water was shooting from every corner of the sink. “What the heck?”
“Turn off the water!” her mom shouted, the water now spraying her right in the face.
“Oh, my.” She skidded to a halt at the site. “Out front?”
“No. Under the sink.”
Under the sink? Of course. Scooting down, surrounded by growing puddles, she opened the lower cabinet doors and practically crawling under the sink on all fours, she turned the hot water off first, praying her mother wasn’t being spewed with scalding water. The valve shut tight, she turned to the blue valve to the right and turned until the handle stopped and the sound of gushing water slowed. Backing out from under the sink, she had never been so relieved to no longer have running water, and so thankful that no one had seen her crawling around on all fours.
Pushing to her feet, her mother was already running to the linen closet. While Sandra grabbed a few dry dish rags from a drawer to sop up the water pooling on the floor, her mother ran in with a stack of bath towels.
“It’s times like this I really miss having a man in the house.”
Sandra wrung the soaking wet towels in the sink. “What happened?”
“I have no idea.” Beside her, her mother wrung another towel then tossed it back on the still wet floor. “One minute I was grinding lemon rinds in the disposal and the next minute water was everywhere.”
At that moment, the water boiling in a pan on the stove bubbled over.
“Lord, love a duck.” Her mother sighed and standing closer, Sandra flipped the knob, turning off the gas. “Why don’t you check on David? I’ll finish the tea, then dry the rest of the floor.”
Torn between the disaster on the first floor, and her son not feeling well upstairs, Sandra must have hesitated a moment too long for her mother’s taste.
“Go. I’ll get more towels.”
“I’ll check on David and bring the towels from our bathroom down.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Her mother sighed as she poured the green apple and lemon rind tea into a mug.
Taking the stairs two at a time, she made it to their room just in time to hear David retching through the closed door. “Marvelous.” Hurrying into the room, her heart did a slow stutter at the miserable expression on her son’s face. Poor kid was staring horrified at the mess on the blankets in front of him. At least most of his pajamas had been spared. “Oh, baby.”
It didn’t take long to change David out of his slightly soiled jammies and settle him into her bed—with a trash can—and strip the sheets from his bed.
“Here we go.” Her mother came into the room with a small tray, carrying the mug of tea and a dish of dry saltines. “We’ll drink the tea first and if you get hungry, we can have some saltines, but not for at least an hour.”
“You stay with him a few minutes and I’ll run these sheets down to the laundry.”
“Good idea.”
The sheets bundled into a massive ball, she carried them in her arms, making her way down the stairs. Not quite to the bottom, the doorbell sounded. “Who the heck could that be?”
Some days simply dragged by, today was one of those days. Paxton had felt like a teen anticipating a first date with the head cheerleader. If he’d been unable to get Sandra out of his mind before, knowing they were going on a dinner date tonight kept her in the forefront of his mind. Even when he had to help out in the barn, not even hanging with the horses was enough to make him forget about Sandra.
Rather than waste time pretending to have something else that mattered, he opted to just accept that he was anxious and even a little nervous and might as well just give up and head to town. Having stopped to pick up some flowers, he hoped they would make an acceptable peace offering for arriving over an hour early.
Standing on her front porch, he picked one heck of a time to second-guess his decision. “Don’t be stupid,” he chastised himself. He could toss back and forth if arriving early was a blessing or an intrusion, but he was here, and if he didn’t ring the darn bell, any minute now the neighbors would start a new topic of discussion on the grapevine. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he rang the bell.
When the door flew open, a frazzled Sandra, loaded down with laundry, opened her mouth, then at the sight of him, snapped it shut. He couldn’t be sure but he thought he heard her groan. Not a good sign.
“I came to town early and hoped that would be okay.”
She sighed heavily. “David’s sick and I need to wash his sheets.” The last word had barely crossed her lips when the load slipped from her hands.
“Here.” He reached forward. “Let me help.”
“They’re dirty.”
He chuckled and pulled the linens from her arms. “That’s usually what happens when someone’s sick.”
“I suppose you can leave them in the laundry room.”
“If you tell me where it is I can go ahead and run the load while you go check on David.”
“Mom’s with him, and I can’t have you doing our laundry.”
“Nonsense.” He smiled. “I’ve been doing laundry since I was ten years old. Mom insisted we all learn.”
“But—”
“I got this. Show me the way then go check on…” his words evaporated when he found himself sloshing through puddles on the floor. “What the heck happened here?”
“Good question. From what I saw and Mom said, the disposal is possessed by devil spirits.”
That had Paxton struggling to bite back a laugh. None of this was a laughing matter. “Go. I’ll do the laundry.”
“I can’t—”
“Please.”
Heaving a deep sigh, her shoulders slumped. “Okay. Fine. Washer’s over there.” She pointed to the hall beside the kitchen and turned to run upstairs.
The hours he’d spent imagining how tonight would go, doing laundry and fixing a possessed disposal had not crossed his mind, and yet, he was glad he’d come early. The laundry was in the washer and he found a mop and bucket and quickly began cleaning some of the mess. He’d wrung the wet towels out in the kitchen sink and set them on the dryer for the next load of wash. By the time Sandra’s mother walked into the kitchen, he was under the sink.
“Oh, my.”
“What’s wrong?” Sandra came in on her mother’s heels.
“Your dishwasher was backing into the disposal. Fixed the problem.” He pushed to his feet and ran the water for a quick check, then turned back to the gaping woman. “How’s David?”
“Asleep,” Sandra spoke softly, taking in the room, her gaze settling on a couple of paper bags on the table.
“I thought, with David sick, you won’t want to go out, and with an exploding sink, I doubted anyone had time to cook dinner, so I called Jamison and had him deliver some corned beef and cabbage meals with extra bread.”
“You cleaned up the kitchen,” Sandra muttered.
Paxton shrugged. “Mom taught us how to use a mop too.”
The buzzer rang and Sandra and her mom looked toward the laundry room.
“That’s the bed linens. They need to go in the dryer.” He started toward the washer when Sandra’s mom grabbed his arm.
“I’ve got it from here. You two eat.” She smiled at him. “And thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Moving slowly toward the cabinets, Sandra Lynn pulled out three dishes and then from a drawer pulled out some silverware. Her movements were slow and measured and Paxton feared he’d gone too far and now she was annoyed with him.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, but it looked like y’all needed help.”
Carrying the dishes and silverware to the kitchen table, she set it all down and turned to face him. “We did. Thank you.”
He wished she sounded more convinced.
Slowly setting out each dish and adding the silverware, she shook her head and then looked up at him. “Anyone ever told you that you’d make a great knight in shining armor?”
“Can’t say that they have.” He opened the brown bags.
“Okay.” Her mother appeared in the kitchen. “Linens are in the dryer, towels in the washer. I, for one, have had a very long day. I’m going to bed early tonight. You kids enjoy the food.”
“You feeling okay?” Worry danced in Sandra’s eyes.
“Perfectly fine for someone who wrestled a wayward disposal. I had a late lunch and am ready to just collapse on the sheets.”
Sandra nodded. “Sleep well, Mom.”
“Love you.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek and continued upstairs.
A moment later they were sitting across from each other enjoying O’Faredeigh’s delicious food. Deciding that a little levity was required, Paxton brought up the time that Aunt Eileen came after the kids with a hose when she’d overheard one of the older cousins spewing inappropriate words for anyone except a truck driver.
“That really was funny.” The twinkle returned to Sandra’s eyes. “Especially when Adam went sliding across the muddy ground. It was like watching a show with the Three Stooges.”
“It was definitely memorable.”
“Thank you.” Her smile softened. “You really came through for us. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“I’m glad I could help, but sorry I didn’t get here sooner for the disposal.”
She shook her head. “You got here just in time. Thank you again.”
“You’re going to have to stop saying that. I was glad I could help. But I do want you to keep in mind that any time you or your mom are having trouble you can call me.” He took a chance and placed his hand over hers. “I mean it.”
Her gaze leveled with his. She seemed to be studying him as she processed his words, then finally nodded. “I believe you do.”