Chapter 2 #2
“Oh, my goodness. I’m sorry I startled you.” An older woman placed a trembling hand on his arm as he bent to pick up the mess he made. She reminded him of his grandma—roses, face powder and gentle hands.
“I was distracted and not paying attention to where I was going.” Taylor picked up the pens and placed them on the table. He stood and glanced at the woman in her lavender pantsuit and pearl necklace. “Did I hurt you?”
“It takes more than a jostle to upset me. I’m still stocking bookshelves and wrangling little children during reading time.” She patted his arm. “Are you keeping up on your own reading, young man? If I remember correctly, you read the whole autobiographical set of U.S. presidents.”
“Mrs. James?” Was this the librarian who always made him check out at least one fiction book with all the nonfiction he liked to cart home? She was the reason he’d become hooked on sweet romances. Though, he’d never, ever confess that out loud.
“The one and only.”
Taylor took her small hand in both of his. “How is it you haven’t aged a day since I last saw you?”
“You always did say the sweetest things, you charmer, you.” She waved at a couple of hard wooden chairs. “Let’s sit and chat. I’d like to hear about your adventures.”
Two requests in less than an hour for him to stay and chat. He already regretted not spending more time at Bake Me Happy, so he took the chair Mrs. James offered after making sure she was seated comfortably first.
After she quizzed him about his life—where he lived and what he’d read recently—she leaned in close, as if to share a secret. “I’d heard the mayor hired a big-time architect to come and give his opinion about downtown. I’m glad it’s you. Now, what can I tell you?”
Taylor relaxed back. He’d forgotten the easy way Mrs. James conversed with anyone. “What do you want to tell me?”
She tilted her head a little and her whole countenance seemed to be full of mischievousness.
“My husband used to help fix all the broken stuff in town. The grease trap at the Smokin’ BBQ, the ovens at Bake Me Happy, even the sprinkler system at Juniper Gathering Place.
” She waved her hands above her head toward the ceiling.
“He was fixing that wiring in here the day before he died.”
She took a tissue from her sleeve and dabbed at her watery eyes. “We were married fifty-one years, that silly man and I.”
“You married when you were ten?” Taylor pretended to be shocked. “That’s scandalous.”
“Like I said, charmer.” She patted his arm again. “If you want to know about this building, ask Dan Walker. He’s spent hours in this place, from being a chaperone to a basketball coach, and even the mayor for a few years.”
“I’d forgotten about the mayor part.” Dan had been Taylor’s basketball and flag football as well as soccer coach when he was in elementary school.
An elderly couple stopped next to them and the gentleman asked what time the quilt show ended. Mrs. James glanced at her watch. “In a couple of hours. We have to clean up so they can set up the stage for the concert tonight.”
“Who’s playing?” the old man asked in a rather loud voice.
His wife patted him on the arm. “Honey, turn your hearing aids on.”
“Oh.” He fiddled with his ears for a moment before repeating his question.
“The Funeral Potatoes,” Mrs. James answered.
“Oh, I like them.”
“How many concerts does this city hold in a week?”
“Only two this week.”
“Do you remember the Royal Roller Ball?” the wife said in a quiet voice. “I wish the city would do that again.”
Mrs. James nodded. “I remember you as the first Roller Queen.”
Their conversation faded in the background as Taylor thought about the Royal Roller Ball.
He hadn’t thought of that event for years.
The Strawberry Days royalty led the skating under the disco ball with songs from all eras.
Admittance was a can of food for the food bank.
Taylor loved going because Chelsey was always there helping in some way.
The summer between his junior and senior year, his football coach banned any skating until after the season, thanks to Mad Dog Zeller who broke his arm showing off for his girlfriend.
“Mary? Which quilt is yours?”
Mrs. James glanced up at the woman. “The one with all the strawberries.”
The woman brushed a wisp of lavender-tinted hair off her forehead and sighed. “They all have strawberries.”
“Well, then, the best one.” Mrs. James chuckled, then pointed across the hall. “Number seven.”
The couple moved away as quick as their arthritic limbs allowed and she turned back to Taylor. “I guess I’d better go campaign for the coveted blue ribbon.”
Taylor arched his eyebrows. “Do you want me to stuff the ballot boxes?”
She winked at Taylor. “Thank you. I might let Edith win this year.” She paused and studied him. “I hear this year’s auction is the biggest Juniper Valley has ever seen.”
He nodded at Mrs. James, letting her know he understood her underlying meaning—Chelsey Hooper would be around.
“You take care of yourself, Taylor Compton.”
“You, too.” His gaze followed her as she made the rounds, stopping to chat or point out something special on a quilt. He tilted his head, looking again at the old building. It held so much more than the walls and windows. There was soul here, a spirit made up of thousands of memories.
Outside, Taylor circled the building. He examined the foundation and the window casings, then ran his fingers over several sections of brick.
Preliminary findings indicated that the structure stood sturdy with only a few required updates, but the inside would require a complete overhaul.
A plan started formulating in his head, one he knew half of the town would hate and the other half would love.
Which side would his dad the mayor be on?
More insight was needed, and apparently Dan Walker was the man to see. Taylor had always been in awe of Dan and his success. He was a BMIJV—Big Man in Juniper Valley. But how could he talk to Dan without running into Chelsey?
Thinking of Chelsey’s mom brought a lump to Taylor’s throat.
He wished over and over that he could’ve been in town for the funeral.
He hated the thought of Chelsey planning one and grieving on her own.
He’d sent flowers then reached out to his mom to make sure Chelsey had people around to support her.
Another reason he wasn’t sure he had it in him to look Chelsey Hooper in the face.
Taylor pulled into a parking stall in front of one of the newer complexes off the new freeway exit.
A couple of hotels, a gas station as well as numerous restaurants took up valuable real estate, and from the looks of it, room for more growth.
A lot had happened since he left for his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in Asia.
Inside the first building, Taylor found the right floor and got on the next elevator.
When it stopped, he stepped out onto a well-lit and well-appointed floor.
Light gray colored the walls while the furniture stood in a complementary darker shade of gray.
The company’s red Event Planners logo flowed across the wall behind the receptionist’s desk—Heather according to her nameplate.
Taylor tried not to stare at her outfit.
She was decked out in a shirt with the Strawberry Shortcake doll scattered all over it.
Matching earrings dangled from her ears.
This woman obviously loved the Strawberry Festival.
He wouldn’t be surprised if her toenails matched her fingernails, which were painted red with black strawberry seeds.
The secretary glanced up in time to catch him staring at a temporary tattoo on her forearm and grinned at him like a manic berry. He blinked several times so he didn’t laugh out loud.
Heather clapped her hands. “Do you want one? I made a ton of different ones and they’re temporary.” She opened one of her desk drawers and showed him the sheets of strawberries.
“Uh, no thanks.” He smiled at her. “It will clash with my outfit.”
She chuckled. “Are you new in town? I haven’t seen you before.”
Before he could introduce himself though, she talked on.
“I always keep an eye out for cute guys.” She hurriedly added, “Not for me, of course. I have a guy. But there are a couple of eligible bachelorettes in this office.” She waited for his reaction, but he smoothed his face into the plastic smile he wore for business meetings and courting big accounts.
“I’m looking for Mr. Walker.”
“Oh, hang on. Let me call his office. I think he left already.”
“I don’t have an appointment. If you’ll just tell me—”
Heather held up a manicured finger in the gesture of please wait—and yup, the nails were red with black dots on them—as she called someone.
“Oh hey, Wendy. Is Dan over there? Good. I called because someone’s here for—Shoot.
Does she need anything? Okay. Sure thing.
” Heather clicked her headset and held up a manicured finger again before she turned around and opened a small fridge behind her desk.
“Dan’s down at the GP. If you hurry, you’ll catch him before he heads into a meeting with the governor.” Heather held out an energy drink to him. “Do you mind taking this to the woman in charge?”