Sticks and Stones (16 page)

            He
placed his hand on her stomach and slowly turned into her and snapped another
photo. So caught up in the moment, without thinking, he mumbled, “God, you’re
beautiful.”

            Grace,
unsure if it was the soft music playing, the warm, tenderness of his gaze or
the words he spoke, made her want him to kiss her. Dear Goddess, she wanted him
to kiss her!

            She
closed her eyes and lifted her chin up, parting her lips slightly. But, instead
of kissing her, he skated away.

*          *          *

            Grace
stomped around Magickal Botanicals ranting. “The thought of kissing me repulsed
him!”

            Jessica
and Michael smirked at each other, but when Grace turned to look at them, their
faces showed no emotion.

            “Well,
didn’t you say that you weren’t interested in him like that?” Michael murmured.

            “Well,
yeah,” Grace hedged. “But…”

            “But
what?” Jessica grinned.

            Grace
covered her face with her hands. “Ugh! It’d only be a fling. I know this, but
still…”

            “So,
invite him over. Push him up against the wall and take charge!” Jessica urged.

            Michael’s
brows lifted at Jessica’s comment. “Jessie?”

            She
shrugged. “The woman has needs! He’s a fine looking man! Why not?”

            Grace
tapped her chin and paced. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m not that forward,
ya know? Besides, I’m seven years…”

            Jessica
growled, “Grace, get off the age crap! The guy’s interested in you. Sounds like
he has been the minute you met! Fuck his brains out!”

            “Um,
yeah, I’m going to…water the plants,” Michael groaned. “I’m feeling a bit
uncomfortable with this conversation.” He patted Grace on the shoulder as he
passed her. “My advice? Take a chance, Grace. You’ll only regret it later if
you don’t.”

            He
rounded the corner and found Chase and Emily Storm on the other side of the
wall, each with a flat of flowers in their hands and smiles on their faces.

*          *          *

            Rick
threw his backpack on the couch and grabbed the portable phone from the glass
end table. After pressing several buttons he brought the phone to his ear.

            “Hey
beautiful,” he cooed.

            “Hello,
handsome,” she giggled. “Miss me?”

            Rick
grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat at the kitchen nook. “Hey, no
matter how old the man, he’ll always miss his mom.”

            “Ricky?
Is everything okay?”

            “Oh
mom, I’ve met a woman,” he sighed.

            Holly
O’Shea giggled, “Only one this week? From what I’ve read…”

            He
quickly cut her off. “No, it’s not like that. Not now.”

            “This
sounds serious.”

            Rick
raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah and I think I may have blown everything.”

*          *          *

            Jessica
wrapped an arm around Grace’s shoulders and led her out the back door towards
Michael’s workshop.

            “Hey,
why are the cops here?” Grace murmured when she spotted a police cruiser in
front of the little log building.

            Jessica
shrugged. “Probably Sheriff Naylor. He stops by every once-in-a-while and
bullshits with Michael.”

            When
they entered the building Grace spotted the table Michael had created for her
clients Kat and Norman Wise. A wooden pallet had been repurposed into a fully
functional coffee table with small cubbies to hold books or magazines.

            “I
love it!” Grace gasped.

            Michael
walked towards her, beaming. “Thanks. I’ve put wheels on the bottom so it could
be moved easily, but they can be removed if you don’t like them.”

            Grace
ran her hand over the table top and grinned. “I love the little glass panes
you’ve added in the center! And the whitewash just completes the shabbiness of
it! I know Kat will love it.”

            “Your
design, Michael?” Sheriff Naylor asked.

            “Well,
Jessie helped,” Michael blushed. “Grace, this is Sheriff Tom Naylor.”

            Grace
shook the older mans hand. “Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

            “Grace
is an Interior Designer and hires me to come up with unique furniture,” Michael
explained.

            The
white haired man rubbed his chin. “Ya don’t say? Janet’s been on my ass to get
a new picnic table. Could you make something like that Michael?”

            Jessica
wrapped an arm around Michael’s waist. “He can do damn near anything!”

            “You
only say that because you love me,” Michael replied, rolling his eyes at Jessica.

            “Well,
I’m not as biased as Jessica, but I think you do great work,” Grace stated. “Is
it okay if I leave it here for a few more days? I have to get my crew together
and plan a day when we’re going to tackle the job.”

            “Not
a problem. I’ll throw a tarp over it to keep it clean,” Michael said.

            “Okay,
I gotta scoot. I have another contractor to meet with. Very nice to meet you,
Sheriff,” Grace waved.

*          *          *

            A
half-hour later Holly mumbled, “Well, your first mistake was not kissing Grace
when she clearly wanted you to.”

            Rick
groaned, “I know! How do I fix it?”

            “Go
to her house, push her against a wall and proclaim your feelings for her!”

            “Mom!”
Rick gulped, uncomfortably.

            Holly
giggled. “Sorry, I’ve been reading that popular Shades book. Your dad runs away
when he sees the book in my hand now.”

*          *          *

            Grace
drove to the next contractor’s house chewing the inside of her lip. She liked
Dee very much, but Dee’s psychic abilities creeped her out.

            They
met two years ago at a New Age festival. Grace was drawn to Dee’s brightly
decorated pergola. Cloths of red, purple and gold shimmied in the breeze,
urging Grace to enter.

            An
hour later Grace left with a satchel full of handmade skirts, blouses and
pillows as well as Dee’s phone number and a vague warning about Ben.

            Turned
out Dee was right about Ben.

*          *          *

            “Dude!
Why didn’t you kiss her?” Chase growled into the phone.

            “What?
Did she call you?” Rick groaned.

            “Pfft,
no. Em and I eavesdropped on her conversation with Jessica and Michael.”

            Rick’s
eyebrows knitted together. “The people from your party?”

            “Yeah,
Jessica owns a greenhouse. Never mind that,” Chase muttered impatiently. “She
wanted you to kiss her and you left her high and dry. When did you get so
stupid about women?”

            “She’s
not just another woman. Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.”

            Chase
ground his jaw. “Yeah, I mean I only fucked my way around the world, basically.
I know absolutely nothing about women.”

            “You
know what I mean dude.”

            “No,
I don’t. She wanted you and you blew her off. She thinks you find her
repulsive.”

            “What?”
Rick screeched.

            “If
you’re as serious about her as you think, ya gotta stop playing the reverse
psychology shit. Go to Grace’s house; push her up against the wall…”

            Rick
groaned, “Christ! Is everyone reading the same book?”

*          *          *

            Janice
tapped her fingernails gently against the black lacquered desk in her new
office space located on Michigan Avenue. The workman acid etched the name
Charming
by Design
expertly on the glass doors. Another set of men set up her office
as well as the reception area. She glanced out the door and frowned. She’d have
to hire someone for that position.

            First,
she needed clients. She clenched her jaw and checked her cell phone. “C’mon
sexy hazel eyes. Give me what I want and I’ll give you your hearts desire.”

*          *          *

            Grace
pulled into the driveway of the blue Cape Cod home. “Don’t let her touch you!”
she reminded herself. Dee could only read a person if she touched them.

            Before
she could knock on the door, Dee pulled it open. “Grace! It’s so good to see
you!”

            “Hi
Dee. How ya been?”

            Dee
waved her inside and even though Grace tried to avoid it, Dee hugged her.
Tightly.

            “I
think you’re going to like what I’ve got for ya!” Dee grinned, pulling Grace
towards a back bedroom converted into a sewing room, courtesy of Bewitching
Designs.

            Ivory
eyelet curtains adorned the small window above an antique treadle sewing
machine. Dee waved her hand in front of them. “Well?”

            Grace
tapped her chin and grinned. “I think Kat will love them!”

            “I’ve
also made matching tie-backs,” Dee beamed. “And over here are pillows that
match.”

            An
antique wooden draft table held several pillows of varying sizes, shapes in the
colors of pink, beige and sage. Grace nodded her approval.

            “Something
else I came up with is this,” Dee commented, holding up a four pane wooden
window frame with chipped white paint. “I found it at a garage sale and thought
photos would look great attached behind each frame.”

            “Hey,
who’s the designer here?” Grace teased.  “I love it! Maybe I can snag a few
photos from her and if you’re interested…”

            “Hell
yeah! I’m thinking wedding photos.”

            Grace
nodded, “Yeah, I can totally see that. Well, Dee, you’ve outdone yourself
again!”

            Dee
blushed, “I love doing this kind of stuff, you know that. Have a seat and tell
me about this hunky guy you’re seeing.”

            “Um,
nothing to tell. We’re friends,” Grace muttered, rolling her eyes. “Gah! How do
you do that? I mean, how do you see this shit?”

            “I
saw your picture in the paper with him,” Dee giggled, tucking her long brown
hair behind her ears. “A hockey player, Rick something.”

            Grace
fidgeted on the red loveseat. “O’Shea.”

            “That’s
right. I’m not much of a hockey fan, but I may be if all the players look that
yummy.”

            “Weren’t
you working on slipcovers, too?” Grace asked, changing the subject.

            Dee
slapped her knee. “Nearly forgot!” She stood and plucked a clear bag from
beneath the drafting table. “Didn’t want them to get dirty,” she explained as
she unzipped the bag.

            Grace
felt the course red fabric between her fingers and eyed the stitching. “Looks
very durable and I like the color. I can’t wait to get this on her couch and
chair.”

            Dee
scrunched her nose. “Red isn’t my color of choice, but hey, it’s not my house,
either. Now, back to you. Why are you so ambivalent about Rick?”

            Grace
folded the slipcover and shoved it into the bag hastily. “He’s seven years too
young for me. End of story.”

            “So?”

            “So?
So…it’d never work.”

            Dee’s
hazel eyes twinkled in amusement. “Ya don’t say? Have you ever met my husband
Jeremy?”

            Grace’s
eyes widened. “I didn’t know you were married.”

            “Not
legally,” Dee waved a casual hand. “We don’t need a piece of paper to prove our
relationship.” She stood and called out the window. “Jeremy? Honey, can you
come in here and meet Grace?”

             Several
minutes later a young looking man entered the sewing room. He had black,
shoulder length hair and ice blue eyes. He wiped his hands absently on his
faded jeans and blushed. “Sorry, I’ve been working in the yard,” he murmured.

            “Jer,
this is Grace. Grace, this is Jeremy,” Dee announced.

            Grace
shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”

             “Nice
to meet you, too. Dee tells me you’re Wiccan.”

            “Guilty,”
Grace grinned.

            “She
told me that you get freaked out because she’s psychic.”

            “Jer…”
Dee cautioned.

            “Well,
it’s true,” he shrugged, innocently. “Anyway, don’t be afraid. Dee means well.”

            Grace
eyed the couple curiously, at a loss for words.

            “I’m
ten years older than he is,” Dee offered. “We’ve been together for six years.”
She glanced at Jeremy and smiled. “And he’s the best thing that’s ever happened
to me.”

            “Back
at ya, baby,” he crooned, kissing her. He pulled away from Dee, blushing. “I
have a flower bed that needs to be weeded. Grace, it was nice to meet you and
hope to see you again!”

            Dee
plopped down on the seat next to Grace and smoothed the hair from her face.
“Now what were you saying about an age difference?”

            Grace
shrugged. “Look, it’s great that you two have such a wonderful relationship,
but it’s different with Rick and me. He’s a famous hockey player!” she stood
and rubbed the back of her neck. “It’d only be a fling for him and I’d be left
wanting more.”

            “That’s
not how I’m seeing things,” Dee grinned, shaking her head.

*          *          *