Boo (32 page)

After crossing off everything on her list, she decided to pick up one more fresh bouquet of flowers. She was pretty sure there could never be enough flowers around. The more orange, red, and yellow she had around the house, the more festive it was sure to become. A nice fall arrangement sitting on the florist’s counter caught her eye, and with a little maneuvering she managed to lift it and her basket and take it all to the front register.

Kay McCauley, the granddaughter of John C. McCauley, who had opened the store sixty years ago, was twice divorced, once a Jameson, and more recently a Cowen. Now she was back to McCauley, a very rich McCauley who got the house and his two sports cars. She stood behind the register, busy making a list of her own. Kay was now in her sixties, though she looked more like forty. She had youthful eyes and a pleasant smile that Ainsley was always glad to see. Although the McCauleys had had to hire outside the family over the years, they always made sure
a family member worked the important holidays. Thanksgiving was no exception. They opened at 5:00 A.M. and closed at noon.

“Ainsley,” Ms. McCauley said, setting down her pen, “happy Thanksgiving to you!”

“Thank you! To you, too.”

“Picking up some last minute items? I love that bouquet! You know, Renata worked on that for hours yesterday. I’m glad someone bought it.”

Ainsley studied the piece carefully. “It’s gorgeous. I think it will be the perfect centerpiece for the dinner table.”

Ms. McCauley began ringing up Ainsley’s groceries. Gobblin’s had never installed a scanner and still priced each item individually. Things like this made Ainsley feel her small town was still special. A new Wal-Mart had gone in twenty minutes away, but Ainsley refused to visit it. She liked the fact that someone knew her name at the store.

She noticed that Ms. McCauley was studying her. The kind woman finally said, “You have quite a special day planned, don’t you?”

“Well, yes. Dad and I always do like to have a good group over, as you know. When did you come? Four or five years ago?”

“Yes, it was splendid. The best turkey I’ve ever had! I don’t know how you do it without drying that bird out. It melted in my mouth! I still think you should start a catering business, Ainsley. You know how much this town loves your cooking.”

Ainsley grinned. “Maybe someday.”

Ms. McCauley was now bagging the groceries. “But this is an extra special Thanksgiving, isn’t it?”

Ainsley cocked her head to the side. “Well, um …”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.” She stopped bagging groceries and lowered her voice, though there were only a few other people in the store this early. “I just heard that you and, um, Boo …”

Ainsley felt her whole face burn, and she had to look away. People knew. That was okay, right? But it was quite something to hear people speak of it. She wasn’t ashamed, just still getting used to the reality of it. “It’s true. Wolfe’s a wonderful human being. We’re having a lot of fun together. And he’s coming over today.”

“Oh, now that’s quite a big step. Inviting him over to meet the family, eh?” She winked and finished bagging the groceries. “Well, I’m happy for you, Ainsley. I really am.”

Ainsley grinned. Yes, she was happy too. Happy for herself. She held her head high with that idea.

“Twenty-three dollars and five cents,” Ms. McCauley said. Ainsley handed her the money, and as soon as the register popped open, so did Ms. McCauley’s mouth: “But is it true he’s not going to be writing those books anymore?”

It occurred to Ainsley that Ms. McCauley looked more worried than pleasant now. Ainsley scratched her head, unable to decide what to say. Didn’t anyone care that this man’s whole life had changed? Who cared about those stupid books anymore? They were just trash! Didn’t they see that?

Ms. McCauley leaned forward on the counter. “Then it
is
true.”

Ainsley met her eyes. “Why does it matter? He’s changed. He’s devoted his life to God. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“It’s just … just … astonishing, that’s all,” Ms. McCauley said, avoiding Ainsley’s eyes. “Our little town depends on him, you know. Ainsley, since Boo moved here, my little grocery store makes nearly three thousand dollars the week of Halloween on candy sales alone. That doubles our sales for October nearly every year. I’ve been able to do things I’d never dreamed of. Last year I took my first cruise. And next summer I’d like to go to Europe.”

Ainsley sighed, sure Ms. McCauley’s new lifestyle was due in part to Mr. Cowen’s decision to ditch her for a twenty-five-year-old, but she kept her mouth quiet and took the sack of groceries. She tried to smile. “Have a nice Thanksgiving, Ms. McCauley.”

“Thank you. You too.”

Ainsley carefully put her groceries in her car, and then sat in the driver’s seat while the heater warmed up. The disappointment she was feeling about Ms. McCauley’s remarks faded as she thought more about her day. Who cared what people thought Wolfe should do? He’d made his
decision. He’d left that world. And today was Thanksgiving. She had a lot to smile about.

By the time she arrived home, she was looking forward to getting things under way. It was almost seven and she had a lot to do before the crowd arrived.

She put her groceries away and checked the turkey cooking slowly in the oven.

“Smells wonderful, honey,” Sheriff Parker said, squeezing Ainsley by the shoulders from behind. Ainsley turned and kissed him on the cheek.

“Good morning. You’re up early.”

Her dad opened the door of the second oven and inhaled deeply. “Pumpkin. My favorite.”

“Mine too,” Ainsley said. “And it was Mom’s.” She watched her dad smile at the thought, then gently close the oven door.

“Are you wearing perfume?”

Ainsley caught her breath as she answered. “As a matter of fact, I am. Smells good, doesn’t it?” Ainsley concentrated her attention on rinsing her mixing spoons. “I think I’ve outdone myself this year. But I think I say that every year. It’s going to be a great day.”

“What time are our guests scheduled to arrive?” His voice was cheery again.

“Any time after eleven. We’ll eat at two.”

Sheriff Parker rubbed his hands together. “Good. I can at least watch some football in peace for a little while.”

Ainsley laughed as she pulled banana-nut bread batter out of the refrigerator and poured it into her bread pans. “I’m so glad this day is here. The weather seems perfect. Cold enough to start a fire, but no snow.”

“Forecast says there’s a chance.”

“Oh, what do they know?” Ainsley pushed the bread into the oven as she thought of snuggling with Wolfe on the couch in front of the fireplace. This was going to be a good day. Maybe this would be the day they would finally kiss. “I wonder what everyone’s doing this morning?”

Her father sipped his coffee. “Well, probably thinking about how good they’re going to eat today!”

And with that, Thief appeared at his empty food bowl, a pathetic meow reminding his owner that his feast should begin now.

“You are going to make me lose my appetite!”

“Well, stop being so pushy. It wouldn’t be so hard to fall in love with you if you weren’t so horribly unlikable!”

“I’m
trying to
help you! I’m
trying to
make you see the importance of all this. Have you always been such a slow learner?”

“With that kind of charm, how could I possibly not melt at your feet?”

“May I remind you that we’re not really in love?”

“No reminder needed.”

Garth groaned as he sat next to Melb on the couch. “I’m not trying to charm you. I’m trying to teach you how to be madly in love. We’re supposed to be over there in three hours, and I can barely get you to look lovingly into my eyes.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Melb quipped.

“Look,” Garth said, “if you could just focus on the end result, everything would be fine.”

“Everything is not fine!” Melb said. “First of all, I don’t see how all this is going to work. If
they’re
in love, why do they care if
we’re
in love? And if we’re in love, why would they want to break us up?”

“It’s simple,” Garth said, reclining against the back of the couch. “Wolfe and Ainsley aren’t in love. They’re in love with the idea of being in love.” Garth reached across Melb and grabbed her book that was sitting on his coffee table. He turned the cover toward Melb. “This is what people think being in love is. A woman draped across the body of a man, looking faint and weak, while the man, with rock-hard muscles and a golden tan, holds her as if she were a feather, looking off into the distance
as if there’s something more important than what seems to be dying in his arms.”

Melb blinked. “So?”

“So
that is not love, Melb. Just once I’d like to see a man and a woman on the cover showing what real love is like.”

“And you’re experienced in this?”

“Sure. It’s not hard to figure out. True love is a man and woman hooking up, saying the vows, being fruitful and multiplying, if you know what I mean, and then being pillars in the community.”

“How utterly romantic.”

“
This
is not romantic!” Garth pointed his long finger right in Bridgette’s face. “Have you ever tried to hold another human being up like this? When their arms are dangling, they’re dead weight! There’s nothing romantic about it.”

Melb shook her head and sat limply on the couch. She already dreaded having to see Ainsley and Wolfe together at Thanksgiving, but the idea of holding hands with Garth made it even worse. His perpetually sweaty palms made it nearly impossible to hang on anyway.

Garth threw the book down on the couch between them, and Melb continued to stare at the cover. She just couldn’t shake the idea of Wolfe holding her in his strong arms as she stared into his dark eyes.

The thought of them together gave her strength to do the unthinkable.

“All right,” Melb said, though rather solemnly, “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“You’ll hold my hand?”

Melb took his hand and tried not to think of the moisture.

“You’ll look lovingly into my eyes?”

Melb gathered herself and focused her attention right between his eyes so she wouldn’t have to concentrate on the tiny sty that had begun to erupt on his left tear duct.

“You’ll say adoring things to me?”

“Oh Garth … oh Garth … Oh, oh Garth …”

Garth frowned. “Yes?”

Melb thought hard. “Is there anyone who can neuter a cat with as much skill as you?”

Garth smiled. “And you’ll kiss me?”

Melb swallowed. Kiss him? On the lips? Those dry, flaky lips? Garth puckered. Melb could hardly breathe. She closed her eyes, leaned forward, kissed him briefly, and decided his lips were quite smooth after all, though his breath smelled like dog chow. She opened her eyes and smiled.

“Well,” Garth said with a scowl, “I’ve never been kissed on the nose before, but if that’s the best you can do, I guess I’ll have to live with it.”

“Sorry,” Melb said, biting a fingernail.

“What’s important,” Garth said after a moment, “is that we come across as genuinely in love, and that we use this to our advantage. We must look for every opportunity and seize it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, why don’t we try that kiss again?”

Melb cleared her throat. “Garth, I think the more spontaneous we are about this, the more genuine it will be. If the opportunity presents itself, we’ll kiss. Okay?”

Garth didn’t seem too excited about that approach, but he agreed with a nod. And Melb prayed that the opportunity wouldn’t present itself under
any
circumstance.

Missy Peeple could hardly believe how intelligent she was for her age. Most of her friends were losing their minds, but not Missy Peeple. No. She would save her little town from certain destruction and fall in love—all at the same time. She’d spent the morning getting her hair done at the parlor, raising a few suspicions about why she wanted her makeup done as well. They could talk. Talk was good. It was only going to help her at this stage of the game.

She had taken all morning to pick out an outfit, but she’d finally
decided on a nice orange polyester suit with a yellow scarf and her favorite brown shoes. She stood in front of the mirror without her cane, inspired by the beauty before her. How good she looked! How good she felt! Mayor Wullisworth would not be able to take his eyes off her. Not today. Not ever again. She found her cane and steadied herself for the walk over to the phone. She dialed the number.