Paisley's Pattern (7 page)

If such were the case, she'd have never met him.

As he drove, she took in the bustling activity along the street. “Looks like you're getting to know your way around.”

“Thanks to Oren's good directions. Here we go.” Rob turned the car into a strip mall and parked.

The restaurant was located in the back of a Mexican market. Lively mariachi music gave a bounce to their steps.

Many people wore a red, black, or white Huskers shirts. A sprinkling of men wore Huskers caps, kept atop heads during their meals.

“People in Nebraska do seem to love their college football team,” Rob commented.

“I believe that's an understatement.”

Large water glasses and menus were already on the table. Paisley knew what she wanted to order. She waited for Rob to make his choice.

“Ma'am, are you ready to order?”

“I'd like a small taco salad without meat. But could you please add extra beans and guacamole?”

“Of course. Sir?”

Rob ordered two burritos and a cola.

Paisley burst out laughing. “Look at those silly scampering squirrels. They're going nuts out there, racing from one tree to another. Maybe it's the sunshine.”

Rob turned to the side so he could see out the window. “They remind me of you. Never landing in one spot, but always looking for somewhere else to plant their feet.”

“Or their tails.”

He scowled at her attempt to lighten the moment. She wanted to reach out and comfort his obvious loneliness.

He needed to seek the joyful side of life.

She focused on placing the lime-green napkin in her lap. Even though she'd returned his beautiful diamond ring, in her mind she viewed their break-up as mutual. He blamed his lack of joy on his parentage and couldn't understand what that had to do with her.

Why can't I get past the hang-up of his frame of mind
?

It slammed into her. She wasn't responsible for his joy any more than he was the one to change anything about her.

They hadn't been ready for such soul searching in California.

“You won't take part of the blame for our incompatibility?” She ventured.

He peered deeply into her eyes.

She felt certain he still longed for her as much as she longed for him.

“I felt like you were pushing me to be someone I'm not. I can't help it if I'm serious and not a carefree laugh-where-I'm-planted kind of guy.”

“But your mother's choice is behind you! And you've discovered who your dad was. Just look at the wonderful family you've found. You have more roots than I ever dreamed of having.”

“Right. My mom loved me so much she told my father about me and we were a real family success story.”

“Sarcasm isn't attractive.”

They both needed to let go of previous lifestyles to entertain the notion of building a future together.

Paisley squeezed lemon into her water. “As far as my past actions are concerned, for the first time ever, I am thinking Nebraska has the draw to keep me here for a long time. Jobs seem to be in abundance. I haven't seen the homeless loitering anywhere.”

“That may be temporary. You'll see them elsewhere if you follow the itch to pack up and move again.”

“I don't see that in my foreseeable future. There's plenty of room for me to stay in Aunt Rainbow's big house. She makes me realize how things could have been if Mom were still around and had all her cookies together. She claims having me around is like having a daughter she never had, something she's missed out on in life. I've even wondered what a white Christmas would be like.”

“Do you plan to work with Rainbow when she returns, or find something of your own?”

“She hasn't asked specifically. But bunion surgery takes time to heal. She's thankful it's still warm enough to wear sandals on her cruise.”

“In Alaska?” Rob shook his head and dipped a nacho chip in sauce.

They finished their meals with nothing resolved.

The sadness and the inborn goodness of the man across the table dug deeper into her soul.

Dear Jesus, guide me, show me if I can help him. If not, I pray the Holy Spirit do a mighty work of healing in Rob's soul. You reminded me it's not my job
.

Outside, she was enthralled by the beauty of the day. She was so thankful to be alive, she twirled.

She came to a stop and her gaze collided with Rob.

He finally smiled and showed a slight dimple.

His handsome, sexy expression shocked her laughter into silence.

Rob grazed his knuckles over her cheek and then guided her to the sedan. He opened the passenger door, never breaking their connection.

A wild current of excitement flashed through her system. Could she keep him here with her? Would he want to stay? Was there hope for them after all?

 

 

 

 

6

 

In the comfort of his new work zone, Rob used a grinder that his father's hands had held to take the rust from the antique skates. The tedious job freed his mind to wander. He imagined what he'd missed by not being in the shed as a child. Perhaps some of his skills and ability to work with his hands was genetic.

Growing up without a father, he had a different attitude toward life. The beauty in the house across the yard distracted his thoughts and captured his longings.

Paisley, how he wanted her. She was so full of life she made his day brighter. She drove him to want to be the man she was looking for, the man she deserved.

He shut off the grinder.

Someone tapped on the door frame.

“I didn't want to walk in and risk that thing slipping and tearing your fingers into hamburger. How about water to follow that spicy lunch?” Paisley asked as she handed him a cold bottle.

“I'd say you're an angel. Thanks. You changed.” He scrubbed through his hair and squeezed the back of his neck.

“Jeans are easier for what I'm doing. That's an antique ice skate? It sure is tiny.”

“Sure is. Vintage and made of iron. The owner guessed the pair to be early 1900s.” He swilled half the water from the bottle.

“Wow. That's old. You said there was a part here in the shed you could use?”

“Yes, see this piece? It's a front clamp. One half was missing.”

“How did the skates keep from slipping?”

“Leather straps. They were bolted to the iron piece here in the back and wrapped around the ankle. Then buckled in the front.”

“I've guessed by visiting museums that people were a lot smaller a hundred years ago.” She swung her wealth of unruly golden hair over her shoulder, which enabled him to see her amber eyes. “Where in the world will you get the leather?”

“There's a shoe repair shop downtown on Norfolk Avenue where I can get leather for straps.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. According to Oren, farmers and ranchers have their cowboy boots resoled on a regular basis. Not to mention tack repair for reins and saddles and such.”

“Ah. Horses.” She ambled along the work bench, grazing a hand over the smooth edges of the wood and gazed at the tools hung in precise order.

Out of nowhere, he pictured a child of theirs with coloring like Sara's. So strange, how Nora so resembled Paisley. Another characteristic the brothers shared—they went for the same kind of woman.

“You never invited me to see where you worked in California. I can't imagine your things in neat Mark Waverly rows.”

“Unlike my haphazard clothes, tools of the trade need to be accessible in seconds. Sometimes I reach without taking my eyes off the job in my other hand. So, yeah, I have a pegboard and hooks similar to this in my workshop back home.”

“Is the famous milk truck under the canvas? I'm surprised you're not smoothing fenders or whatever needs attention.”

“As much as I'm tempted, I need to do this job first, since it's commissioned.”

“Didn't you say the owner of the toys wasn't in a hurry?”

“Right, but the truck is personal so I need to get business out of the way first.”

“That's something that's always struck me about you.”

“What's that?”

“Your integrity.”

“Well, a job is a job and fun is fun.”

“I respect your work ethic. Have you figured out how to get the toys to the owner?”

How could he have forgotten how much he enjoyed talking to her? “Once I finish the skates, I'll ship them home. My housemate has a key to the shop and he'll take it from there.”

“Have you and Oren made plans for you to stay and work on the truck?”

“I have no jobs waiting for me in California. The truck is a worthy restoration project.”
And who knows where you'll go when Rainbow no longer needs your help.

“Sounds good. I need to get back at it. I'm close to being finished with the second bookcase. I had no idea how much time it takes, but I have to come up with a price and tag it. Mark Waverly left a good collection of sale-worthy books.”

Rob gazed at her until she disappeared from sight. With a headshake, he picked up the water bottle. He finished the water, replaced his goggles, and turned on the grinder wheel.

A while later, a second visitor stepped through the door.

“Hey, Oren. Is it time for you to be off work already?”

“I'm one of the bosses. Once in a blue moon I take off without explanation,” his brother said with a grin.

Rob straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and mimed greasing his hair and adjusting a tie. Then he smoothed imaginary lapels. “Glad to know you get some perks.”

Banter with a newfound friend, brother or not, made him feel good. “What's up?”

“I wouldn't know how to work whenever you feel like it. Think it'd be too tempting to turn lazy. I've risen to the sound of an alarm clock six days of the week for a long time now.”

“Being my own boss does take discipline. If I want to pay rent and shovel food in my face, I have to look on clients as my bosses. In other words, if I don't work, I don't eat.”

Oren laid a note on the scarred wooden surface next to Rob's hand. “Here's the address of the clinic I just came from. I let them stick my arm. It's not overly painful and the tests are on me. They're waiting for your DNA so we can make our connection all legal.”

 

~*~

 

No breeze stirred, birds rustled in the bushes, and children laughed at play in nearby yards. A perfect evening for eating outside. Whoever planned the placement of the deck on Aunt Rainbow's house knew what they were doing. A huge maple tree shaded most of the table from the waning sun's rays. Paisley left the sliding door open so she could bring the food from the kitchen and the deck overlooking the deep backyard.

She positioned the patio chairs without disturbing the red-tinted house and olive and gold finches peeping at the thistle feeder.

“Rumor has it, I'm the queen of jiggle,” Edna Mae said as she rounded the corner of the house with a gelled concoction. “You want this out here yet, or should I put it in the fridge?”

“Hi, you two. We're ready, now. Bring it on up and I'll get the potato salad.” Paisley soaked in her fill of Rob. His hair was damp and curling on his nape.

“Hey,” Rob said, arms outstretched in offering. “She baked dessert, too.”

Paisley swallowed and grabbed the wall to combat a wave of dizziness. She and Rob would have shared many patio dinners like this, alone, if she had stayed out West.

A dark cloud covered the bright depth of Rob's bluish-brown eyes, as though he'd shared the same mental scene as Paisley.

She took the icy stainless bowl from his hand then swung back for the warm cake pan and set it on a side bench.

“Slide in here, Edna Mae. Thanks for coming and bringing your food. Take a seat, Rob.”

“Oh,” Edna Mae huffed. “I always contribute. We walked, though, so I'm thankful Rob was along to do the carrying.”

“That's a yummy smelling dessert. Cinnamon is good for a body. But you didn't have to bring two things.”

Edna Mae fluffed her hair and beamed. “Had some raisins that were drying so I plumped them up for spice bars. No big deal.”

“Well, thanks. They both look delicious.”

The older woman preened.

“Would you please say the blessing, Rob?” Paisley didn't lower her head or close her eyes with the others. And she heard nothing except the “amen” because she concentrated on tracing every line and feature of his beloved face. She loved him. Plain and simple.

She sat bolt upright. She still loved Rob.

Was it God's plan for them to start over here, so far away from all they had both known? What else could it be? Without her call to the middle of the country, the discovery of the photographs of Precious and Mark Waverly would have carried no impact, only curiosity, had Aunt Rainbow or Oren found them. Meeting Oren and the conviction he and Rob were connected could have only been orchestrated by a God who loved them all and wanted His best for His children.

Rob must have felt her gaze. So serious, she had a difficult time understanding how anyone who loved Jesus could wear such grievous expressions. Maybe she had something to do with it. Her rejection and flight had no doubt caused more bitterness to worm its way onto his brooding features. Would he lighten up now that he had a new family and was learning his heritage?

“Hand me your plate, Rob, and I'll serve you a spoon of baked beans.” Edna Mae opened the conversation. “Paisley says you're in your element, working with your father's tools.”

“Yup. I can get lost in that shed for hours. Won't be long and I'll ship the ice skates off.” A glimmer of light entered his eyes and one vertical line smoothed from his brow. “Then I'll uncover that milk truck and get her shining.”

“Those were the days,” Edna Mae commented. “Even though I was a toddler, I always loved a man in uniform. There was a time when milk delivery guys were sometimes the first man a woman saw early in the morning, arriving in clothes as white as the milk they delivered in bottles. They even wore hats.”