Cold Tea on a Hot Day (26 page)

For an instant Tate thought of engaging her in further conversation. Perhaps he should open himself to other women, since he had given up on Marilee James.

He had no heart for the idea, though, and pushed on to the end of the aisle and the tea section, where he stood gazing at the array of colorful boxes of herb tea. His low mood might profit from his cutting his caffeine intake.

“Marilee is still havin’ his party. Juice said that no one has canceled the order for steaks.”

Tate’s ears immediately pricked.

“Maybe Leanne had an emergency with one of her horses,” said another voice. “Her horses have had problems lately.”

The vaguely familiar voices were coming from around the corner of the aisle, from women hidden from Tate’s view by the bulging end shelves of Little Debbie snack cakes and cookies.

“I imagine they have,” said the first voice in a knowing fashion. “But what kind of emergency could it have been that she was comin’ out of Parker’s driveway at four o’clock in the mornin’?”

Whoa, buddy.
Tate became very still.

The voice continued, “I had brought Juice to work, since his Jeep was in the shop, and I was goin’ home to
get some sleep before I had to get to the post office. Tuesday’s my late mornin’. I should get a whole day off, but since Alice has been down in her back, I can’t get that.”

It was Julia Jenkins-Tinsley, postmistress and Juice’s wife, speaking. She came pushing her cart around the corner and down the aisle, followed by a rather plump woman who Tate recognized although could not name.

After a quick glance, he focused hard on the teas, more or less trying to blend in.

“Well, I’ve seen ’em joggin’ together in the mornin’s. They come along about the time Everett raises his flag.” Ah—he placed the woman now—Doris Everett. “They don’t come together…they’ve been meeting up there where the path comes out in the field the other side of Blaines’. Sometimes Leanne rides her bike…and all the way in from MacCoys’, too. That’s maybe five miles. Usually when she comes back she stops at Winston’s, and Charlene’ll get her and take her back, or I guess she goes down to the beauty shop and has Charlene get her from there.”

Tate, still focusing on the array of tea, saw in his mind’s eye Lindsey and the shapely Miss Overton jogging along together.

“She come out of his driveway without her headlights on,” the postmistress said. “Maybe she thought she couldn’t be seen, but there’s that pole lamp right there at the edge of the parking lot for the vet clinic. I mean, really, plain as day. Oh, shoot, I got to go on back and get biscuits. Mama’s comin’ to supper this Sunday, and she just loves those Grands biscuits.”

Tate was again in the aisle alone. He snatched a box of Lipton loose-leaf black-and-orange pekoe and dropped it into his cart. He liked Grands biscuits, too, but he kept himself from continuing to eavesdrop on a conversation he could not truly qualify as having journalistic merit.

What was he going to do about this thing?

He hardly knew when he had made it to his kitchen, he was stewing so hard over the situation.

Tuesday morning, the morning Lindsey had not shown up jogging, Leanne Overton had been coming out of Parker Lindsey’s driveway.

He set his grocery bags on the counter and put the kettle of water on the stove over the flame.

Leanne Overton had not shown up that morning, either.

Of course, the two had been jogging together a lot, but not every morning. Leanne Overton generally did three mornings a week, while the Doc did all five…until that Tuesday.

He had seen Leanne Overton’s truck heading in the direction of the veterinary clinic last night. She could have been going anywhere, though. He had no way of knowing the truth. What he had heard at the grocery store was idle gossip, not fact.

Yet Julia Jenkins-Tinsley had been speaking of a firsthand sighting.

I am committed to my relationship with Parker.

There was no way he could go to her and tell her about this, he thought, spooning tea leaves into the china pot
without even counting. It dawned on him that he had about five spoonfuls in the pot, and he had to empty it out and start over.

It wasn’t his business. Except that he cared for her. Somehow her welfare did seem his business. Heat swept over him as he thought about Lindsey messing around on her.

Then it came to him: she had said that about her commitment to Lindsey yesterday evening. He had not spoken to her today at all. Maybe she and Parker had broken up since then.

He got rather excited about the idea for a couple of seconds. But he hadn’t heard anything about it, and surely he would have heard if they had broken up. People would have been talking about it already.

Still, it was possible it had happened late in the day, and he might not have heard. He didn’t hear every single thing that went on.

If Lindsey expected to keep his liaison secret, he was the biggest kind of fool.

He had to find out about this thing. That was all, just find out where Marilee stood.

Quickly, he fixed up a pitcher of tea with lemon and sugar, and ice cubes clinking around, and went across the backyard into the deepening evening shadows of the trees and through the gate.

Marilee opened the door for him. Her eyes popped wide, as if she were surprised. “Oh, hello. Come in.”

Tate himself was pretty surprised. Marilee was dressed in a black slinky dinner dress, a silver bracelet on her
wrist, a silver earring in one ear, and she was trying to get the other earring in the other ear.

He gave a whistle. “Goin’ somewhere?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks turned pink, and her gaze flitted away. “Parker and I are going out.” She strode into the kitchen. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to chat.”

He followed, going to the refrigerator and shoving the pitcher of tea inside, which was the only thing he could think of to do at the moment.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me iced tea. I’m sure you’ve repaid me a number of times over.”

“Don’t you like it?” he demanded, feeling suddenly quite annoyed.

“Oh, yes. I do, very much, it’s just that I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t do things out of obligation.” He realized his anger was out of all proportion.

“Here…let me help you with that.” He motioned toward her earring, which she still had not gotten into her ear.

“That’s okay…I’ll go to the mirror.”

“Just let me have it.” He fairly snatched the earring out of her hand.

Her eyes met his, and then she leaned her head over and pulled back her hair. He focused on the pierced hole in her lobe. Her flesh was warm to his fingers.

She said, “Aunt Vella has moved back home.”

He saw her blink rapidly. He couldn’t see well enough to get the wire through the hole. “Let’s move over to the light.” He fairly dragged her by the ear. “So Vella and Perry are gettin’ back together?”

“No…Aunt Vella threw Uncle Perry out.”

“Well, dogged.” He got the wire through the hole and let go of her ear. “It will be all right with Vella and Perry. Things do work out.”

She gazed at him. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

They stood there gazing at each other. He wanted to haul her against him and kiss her senseless. Kiss her and show her what she needed.

The sound of the front door opening broke their gaze. Marilee stepped around him and away into the living room. He heard her voice welcoming Lindsey.

Tate stepped into the doorway to the living room, and at that same moment the telephone rang, drawing Marilee away from Lindsey’s embrace.

Tate looked full into Linsey’s face. The veterinarian frowned at him.

“So you and Marilee are goin’ out to dinner,” Tate said, coming forward.

“Yes.”

“That’s nice.” Should he bring up what he had heard?

“Yes, it is. What are you doin’ here?”

“I brought some iced tea. Marilee likes my iced tea.” He wanted to knock the guy’s teeth down his throat.

Something in Marilee’s voice had them both looking over at her.

“Yes…thank you for calling, Ruth. I hope Jenny gets feeling better very quickly.”

She replaced the receiver. “Jenny’s sick with the stomach flu. Just started throwing up twenty minutes ago. She can’t come baby-sit.”

She sighed, and Lindsey said, “Oh, great,” in thorough disgust.

“What about Vella?” Lindsey wanted to know.

“She’s already gone to get Winston. It’s her Rose Club night.” Then she added, “And she’s moved her things back home. I don’t want to disturb her.”

Lindsey made an irritated sound this time.

“We can stay by ourselves,” Corrine said. She had come silently, as always, to the hallway and stood there looking small but brave. “I can look after Willie Lee.”

“Oh, honey, I know you can look after you and Willie Lee, but I wouldn’t want you here by yourself.” Marilee went to Corrine and pressed the small girl against her legs.

“You can give her my mobile number, Marilee. She could get us if she needed us.”

“No.”

Lindsey was a fool to think she would go for that. Not Marilee, who did not care to let the children out of her sight. “I’ll stay with the kids.” Tate spoke before he even knew he was going to. Was he nuts? Why should he help Lindsey?

Marilee and Lindsey looked at Tate. Marilee’s eyes were wide, Lindsey’s searching.

“I think I qualify as an adult. I’ll stay with them. What do ya’ say, missy? You and me can handle it, okay?”

Corrine grinned at him, tentatively, and then her grin widened as Marilee looked down at her. She nodded at Marilee.

“Well, I guess that would work.” Marilee spoke slowly, still uncertain. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind? You don’t have plans?”

Her eyes, smoky and beautiful, were on Tate.

“No, I don’t have plans. You two go on with yours.” He did what he felt was required of him.

She had to make certain with Willie Lee, before agreeing to the plan. For two minutes Tate stood five feet away from Lindsey.

“You’ve been a busy man lately, I hear,” Tate said.

“Yeah…a little bit.”

No time to go further with it, because Marilee came back and got her purse, at the same time thanking him all over the place. She kissed the children good-night, and walked out the door on Lindsey’s guiding hand, and Tate kept all of his words inside himself. He had made a pledge to God to let go.

Marilee and Lindsey returned three hours later. She had an engagement ring on her finger. Tate congratulated the couple and kissed the bride-to-be on the lips, but quickly.

He did not leave, but stood there while Marilee went to the bedroom to check her children, who were now asleep.

The instant she was out of the room, he said in a low voice, “I trust that this engagement means you have cut off your fling with Leanne Overton.”

Lindsey about jumped out of his skin. “What do you mean?” he said in an equally low voice.

“You have a small problem in that Leanne was seen driving away from your house at four o’clock in the morning.” He let that sit there while Lindsey stared at him about like a deer caught in headlights. “Marilee is bound
to hear about it sooner or later, so I would suggest you be the one to tell her.”

“There isn’t anything between me and Leanne.”

“Tell Marilee, don’t tell me.”

Marilee came back into the room. “Thank you, Tate, for watching them.”

She was relaxed now, and pleased, and this pleased him. “It was my pleasure. I got to be a kid again for a while.”

He would have kissed her again, but something held him back, some unnamed, fearful caution.

Then he shook Lindsey’s hand, squeezing it as hard as possible.

It was not his place to tell people how to live their lives. Each one had to find his own way. He hated that. He was reminded how Lucille used to tell him that he liked to think he knew everything, that he thought he was God. He had learned a thing or two since then, one major lesson being that people did not like tale bearers. Marilee would not thank him for telling her the truth about this man she had decided to marry.

Rough Day

M
arilee just about put her eye out with her engagement ring the following morning, when she awoke and flopped her hand backward over her eyes to shield them from the fresh light of morning spilling through the windows. She had forgotten to pull the shades.

Extending her hand, she squinted at the ring. The diamond caught the light, blinding her further, and she dropped her hand to the bed, thinking, Ohmygod.

She had been stunned when Parker had produced the ring from his jacket pocket and proceeded to put it on her finger. It had been his mother’s. It looked like something his mother would wear. It slid all around on Marilee’s slender finger.

Pushing herself out of bed, she shuffled her way to the kitchen, where Corrine had a pot of coffee ready and waiting.

“Bless you, my child,” Marilee said, kissing Corrine, who sat at the table, already dressed and reading a book.

Marilee sipped the dark coffee from the mug she held with both hands. Where was Willie Lee?

“He’s out in the garden, moving worms,” Corrine informed her.

“Moving worms?”

Corrine nodded. “He wants to make certain there are lots of worms around his flowers.”

Marilee looked out the window to see her small son, his pale hair spiked in all directions—a haircut was in order—digging with a trowel in the garden, in a very concentrated manner. Munro lay beside him, his head upon his paws, watching.

Just then the front door opened. “Hey…anybody awake?”

Parker? Well, my goodness.

“In here.” Her voice came out a croak, as his footsteps came jogging through the house.

There he was, fully awake and jogging lightly into the room, wearing a muscle shirt that showed his tanned, hard frame, shorts and bright-white running shoes.

“Mornin’, beautiful.” He smiled and kissed her cheek, with barely a pause in jogging.

“Good morning.” Her voice was still croaking like a frog. She hated chipper people first thing in the morning. Hadn’t she told Parker that sometime in the past years? Surely he would have figured it out by now.

“Just thought I would drop by.” Obviously. He was jogging in place now. “What do you think about me and your aunt gettin’ married?” he said to Corrine.

Corrine’s eyes shifted uncertainly to Marilee.

“I haven’t talked to them about it yet, Parker. I just got up, and they were asleep when we came in last night.”

Parker’s jogging was causing the floor to vibrate. She had the sudden thought to grab the iron frying pan off the stove and smack him to get him to stop.

“Oh.” He kissed her cheek again. “I’ll call you later.” He turned and jogged away. Marilee’s eyes lingered on his hard-muscled back until he disappeared. His shoes thudded through the house, and then the front door shut with a near slam.

Marilee drank another good swallow of the thick black coffee, and then she showed Corrine her engagement ring. Corrine said it was pretty.

Marilee couldn’t figure out what else she could expect Corrine to say.

She poured her coffee cup full to the brim and took it into the bathroom and a shower. Peace and quiet and aloneness for twenty minutes.

Parker was a morning person and a jogger; she was
not
a morning person, and definitely
not
a jogger. They were going to have to make some ground rules first thing.

Tate, making a good pace up from Main Street, saw a jogger come from right on Porter Street. Lindsey…from the direction of Marilee’s cottage. Well now.

Tate slowed as he entered the intersection at the same time as the veterinarian.

“Stopped by to see Marilee this mornin’,” Lindsey told him.

The man had at last begun to protect his investment, Tate thought. Giving a nod, he kept going, jogging up the
hill of Church Street. He had liked participating in the raising of the flags and thought he would keep it up.

Parker, who was mildly surprised to see the editor bypass his own house and head on up the curving hill of Church Street at a fair rate of speed, took note that thus far the road coming down was empty. Relief swept him, followed by determination that gave him a fresh burst of speed, sending him along Porter and in the direction of home. He had started out early in order to miss running into Leanne. He didn’t want to risk her catching up with him now.

They sat on the couch in a line: Corrine, Willie Lee and Munro. None of their feet touched the floor, and three pairs of eyes regarded Marilee, Willie Lee’s large and blue behind his thick glasses, Corrine’s black as drops of crude oil, and Munro’s the golden-brown of a fall leaf.

The children were obviously not surprised about her announcement of impending marriage to Parker. Marilee had not expected they would be, although one could never be certain of children’s thoughts, and she had been a little anxious about the matter.

Corrine appeared pleased—or as close as Corrine could ever get to pleased—but she still held her wariness, as usual. Willie Lee, quite reluctant to have been pulled away from his worm moving, had the only concern of being reassured that Munro would go with them to Parker’s house.

“Of course Munro comes. We are a family. Munro, too.” Munro looked relieved, and she smiled at him. “And you and Corrine will each have your own room. Parker’s house is a lot bigger than this one.”

She was very pleased to tell the children this fact. This
marriage would be good for all of them, a bigger house, wider yard, greater financial security. She had made the right decision.

Willie Lee frowned. “I will need Mun-ro to sleep with me, if I have to sleep in my own room.” He made sleeping in his own room sound like a punishment. Tilting his head, he told Corrine, “Mun-ro can go sleep with you after I go to sleep, o-kay? O-kay, Mun-ro?”

Then it was, “Can I bring my worms with me to Parker’s house?”

Marilee, who was thinking of sleeping with Parker, said, “Honey, Parker’s yard will have worms in it.”

She came out of her thoughts enough to see her son regarding her very seriously from behind his thick glasses. He said, “Yes…but I want my own worms.”

“You can bring your worms, honey.”

Her mind was not on worms, but on wondering how she would handle sleeping with a man, after so many years alone. This concern mounted with lightning speed. It had been many years since she had shared a mattress and covers with another adult. What if Parker snored? She did not know this about him.

There would be many adjustments to getting married. She had known this, but she had obviously not known it in the same capacity with which the knowledge now came to her on a rising tide of revelation.

She supposed they were all going to be bringing worms, of a sort, with them into this union.

As she made up her bed, she wondered if Parker liked his sheets folded over the mattress in hospital corners, or
if he preferred them loose, so he could stick his feet out. He had a king-size bed, and she would like that. There would be plenty of room for Willie Lee or Corrine, if they needed to sleep with her because of a nightmare or sickness or thunderstorm.

Parker might not like the children to sleep with them.

As she got a glass from the kitchen cabinet and poured herself some cold tea from Tate’s round pitcher, she thought of Parker’s cabinets full of dishes. All mismatched.

She loved her dishes, which were heavily accented with cobalt blue. Hopefully Parker would be agreeable to pitching his dishes in the trash and using hers.

She would be asking Parker to make a lot of changes.

The ring would have to be sized down for her. She had said she would take care of it, and now she was vexed at herself for taking on the responsibility. Shouldn’t Parker have said he would do it? It was, though, her finger that would have to be present. They should make plans to do it together. That was probably going to be one of their major adjustments, learning to do things together after each of them had lived so many years alone.

The setting on the engagement ring would also need to be worked on. It snagged in her hair, and on the rough fabric of the desk chair, and on the kitchen hand towel.

Finally she took the ring off and laid it in the little dish of paper clips on her desk. Wearing it would take some getting used to.

Just then the telephone rang. Marilee reached out to answer and then withdrew her hand.

The phone rang again, and then again, while Marilee sat there, gazing at it.

At the third ring, Corrine came in from the bedroom.

“We’ll let the answerin’ machine pick up this morning,” Marilee told her. “I have things to do and don’t want to be distracted. Unless it’s Parker,” she added hurriedly, as the answering machine clicked on.

Her mother’s voice came through the speaker. “Just checking to see if my eldest daughter is still among the living,” her mother said. “I haven’t heard from you. I wanted to let you know that Carl and I are going away to a sales conference in Las Vegas this weekend. We’re flying out Friday afternoon. Well…I guess that’s it.”

Marilee felt guilt wash over her for not picking up the phone. She felt more guilty because Corrine had witnessed her avoidance of speaking to her mother.

In the following moments of reflection, however, Marilee decided that she was perhaps glad to have displayed for Corrine her choice to have quiet time for herself. She had made a great leap by engaging herself to Parker. She had to catch her breath.

Parker stopped by at just after noon to give Munro his shots. Marilee had to quickly run to her desk and get the ring, then slip it on her finger, before he noticed she didn’t have it on.

He shoved his chair away from his desk, refraining from putting his fist through his computer screen.

Why could he not come up with an editorial that pleased him? Where had all his brains gone?

Stalking from his office, Tate went to the coffee station to find that the coffeepot was empty, and so was the coffee can. Why hadn’t someone thrown it out? Silly to have an empty can sitting in the cabinet. He tossed it into the trash and looked through the cabinets for a new can, slamming doors with increasing annoyance when he found no coffee.

When Charlotte ignored his slamming doors, he called to her, “We are all out of coffee.”

“Yes?” she called back. Her brown eyes regarded him in an unconcerned manner that annoyed him.

“Who is responsible for maintaining the coffee?”

“Whoever is drinking it. Today that is you. A lot.”

Tate sighed. “We need to keep coffee ready to offer to visitors.” He didn’t want his office to seem skimpy on anything. And doggonit, he wanted a cup of coffee.

Charlotte simply looked at him.

At the moment, the only other person in the offices was June, who proceeded to keep her head down and to scribble on paper. Tate contained himself. He had learned not to raise his voice to June. She got teary.

He glanced at the closed door of their comptroller’s office. Zona had her own coffeemaker, and the absurdity of his employee having her own coffeemaker and him not having one struck him. He could go in and request a cup from her, but he would have to knock on the door and wait for her to unlock it. This was definitely a deterrent.

“I appoint you in charge of purchasing coffee supplies,” he said to Charlotte, as he strode back past her desk. “I want you to make certain we have cans of coffee, filters, cups, anything else we need.”

Maybe he would get his own coffeemaker. He should
do that as the editor-publisher. But then he would be the only one to make it, and he liked other people to make the coffee. He got tired of getting his own food all the time, which was the bane of being single.

“Who’s going to brew it?” She rose and reached for her purse.

“I’ll be in charge of brewing it.” Since he apparently could not get anyone else to do it. “We’ll rotate the weeks of who will brew it.” The idea came to him, and he liked it! With rotation, he would only have to do it every six weeks or so. “But you will be fully in charge of stocking it.” There, that settled it.

“Yes,
sir.
But I think in your mood the last thing you need is some more caffeine.” With that, she whipped open the door and strode out in her long-legged fashion.

He was in a mood. A rare one for him, but he was in it, by golly, and that was it. He did not think having coffee was too much to ask to console him in such a mood.

The door had not fully closed behind Charlotte when Sheriff Oakes appeared through it. Tate was still standing there just outside his office door, dealing with his confusion between being in a bad mood and feeling guilty for not being able to correct himself.

“Just passed Charlotte. She said you were in, but that you were in a wicked mood.”

That washed away his guilt and shoved him completely into his mood. “It’s a rough day,” he said, more sharply than he had intended.

“Yep. For me, too.” The sheriff’s drawn expression caught Tate’s attention. “I came over to fill you in about these Tell-In Technologies folks.”