Toys and Baby Wishes (3 page)

It was a disarming smile.  She'd known many men who didn't
know how to apologize.  She relaxed and smiled back.  "I'm afraid I didn't
help much.  I'm sorry I...blew up."

"Maybe I needed to hear what you had to say.  I really
do have her best interests at heart."

Lexa sat forward, feeling she was making progress.  "I
know.  She's told me you're more of a son than a nephew."

He pulled out the swivel chair and sat behind his desk. 
"And what else did she tell you?"

An imp made Lexa say, "Something about catching you
skinny dipping with your girlfriend after your high school graduation party. 
How difficult it was to teach you how to drive under the speed limit.  How you
traded two of her oldest silver dollars for a frog..."

"Stop.  Stop!" he pleaded.  "Or you'll have
me blushing before your eyes."

"As if anything could make you blush."

"I could think of a few things," he teased.

That winsome smile of his could melt Antarctica.  The
character lines that crinkled around his eyes when he smiled added to his
charm.  "Clare said you and she had reached an understanding."

He cocked his head.  "We understand each other
perfectly.  She told me what she's planning to do and I gave my unnecessary
stamp of approval because she would have done it anyway.  If you hadn't
noticed, she's a very stubborn woman."

"I wonder if it runs in the family."

He grinned.  "You've noticed."

No man's smile had ever made her feel so...unsettled.  She
straightened and got to the point of her visit.  "There's a meeting
tonight at the senior center.  I thought you might want to come and see what
goes on.  I'm sure Clare would like you to meet her friends, too."

Josh looked at Lexa strangely, as if he couldn't figure her
out.  "What time?"

"Seven."

"I'll be there."

His blue gaze was too penetrating.  And she had more work
back at her office than she wanted to think about.  She stood.  "Good.  I'll
see you there."

Josh nodded.

After Lexa left his office, Josh leaned back in his chair
and propped his feet on the desk.  He hadn't gotten much sleep last night,
worrying about Clare, wondering what to do about Ms. Kittredge's influence. 
She seemed so damned honest...

sincere.  He glanced toward the store and saw the top of her
curly blond head as she passed down the aisle.

He'd spoken to his lawyer this morning.  And the real estate
agent.  Clare would lose money if she dropped out of the sale.  Josh intended
to inspect the property himself after work with a contractor he knew to see if
the investment was sound. 

And as for Alexandra Kittredge, there was only one way to
find out her motives.  He'd go to that meeting tonight and he'd get to know her
better.  If she was sincere and if she truly was Clare's friend, he wanted to
find out how much influence she had over his aunt and whether it was good or
bad.  He'd neglected his aunt too much in the past year.  That was going to
stop.

He owed his aunt.  Without Clare, he would have ended up in
a boys' home or on the streets.  Yep.  He owed her big and he'd protect her
whether she liked it or not.  Whether Alexandra Kittredge liked it or not.

***

Lexa opened her the back of her SUV as Josh walked toward
her in the parking lot of the senior center.  He must have been watching for
her.

"Clare told me you'd have cartons to carry in." 
He reached into the back of the vehicle and stacked one box on top of another
so he could carry both.

"Thank you."  She shut the back door.

As they walked toward the building, he asked, "What's
in these?"

"Pirate treasure."

He smiled.  "Not heavy enough for that."

"Would you believe Halloween costumes?"

"For seniors?"

Like so many people, Josh must think people over fifty-five
didn't enjoy the same things the younger population did.  "They're having
a party."

"What have you got?"

"The usual.  Clowns, gypsies.  What's your
favorite?"

"Dracula," he drawled with an accent straight from
Transylvania.

She laughed and opened the door for him.

Once inside the one-story building, Josh followed Lexa so he
could observe her.  The coat she wore was beige cashmere and she wore it as if
she was used to quality.  She greeted the groups scattered here and there who
were talking and sipping coffee or punch.  Everyone seemed to know her well.

From across the room, a crusty looking bald man called,
"Did you find me a gorilla suit?  At least I'll have hair for one
night!"

Lexa called back, "We love you the way you are,
Joe."

One of the ladies nudged Lexa's arm and whispered,
"Isn't Clare's nephew cute?"

"Cute?" Josh mouthed at Lexa as he deposited the
boxes on a cafeteria style table.

She laughed.  "Does that offend your macho
sensibilities?"

"I much prefer hot, sexy--"

"Humble?"

"Once every decade or so," he acknowledged, his
smile reaching his eyes.

A wiry-haired woman at the front of the room banged a gavel
on the podium and asked, "Can everyone please be seated?  We have a lot of
ground to cover tonight."

Sitting in one of the back rows, Clare waved to Lexa and
Josh.  She squeezed Lexa's hand as she sat down and whispered, "He
came!"

On Lexa's other side, Josh didn't seem to hear.  Before Lexa
could answer Clare, the woman up front said, "There's someone I'd like you
all to meet.  He's new to Chambersburg and I think he could be of help to many
of us.  He's a financial advisor.  I'd like to introduce Mr. Stanley."

Lexa whispered to Clare, "We'll talk later."

A man in his late forties or early fifties stood and walked
to the podium from the first row.  "Thank you, Edna.  How do you do,
everyone?  My name's Ted Stanley.  When Edna came to see me, I told her what I
could do for her.  When she mentioned the senior center, I asked her if I could
talk to all of you.  Let me give you a thumbnail sketch of what I can do for
one of my clients.  I'll begin by saying that the elderly in this country are
outliving their incomes.  Social security isn't enough.  Many of you have no
private pensions--that's particularly true of widows."

Lexa saw many heads nod up and down.

"Is he the one you sent Clare to?" Josh asked,
watching Lexa as she listened to the speaker.

"No, I sent her to a woman I knew was reputable."

That note of sincerity again.  Were his doubts uncalled for?

As Stanley droned on about turning around negative credit
ratings, getting loans even over age sixty, generalities about investments that
could provide steady interest payments, Lexa took out a pencil and paper and
made some notes.

Josh elbowed her arm.  "Thinking of investing?"

"No.  I want to check out his credentials.  I don't
like the idea he's targeting senior citizens."  She seemed genuinely
worried.

"What's unusual about that?"

"Maybe nothing.  But I want to make sure he isn't 
unscrupulous."  Almost to herself, she murmured, "I don't like his
eyes."

Josh leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Any reason
in particular?"  Her scent wound around him and he enjoyed the closeness
for a moment.

"No.  It's just a feeling."

"Do you always judge people by their eyes?"

She stared straight ahead.  "Most of the time."

"What do you think about my eyes?"

She turned her face to his to see if he was serious.  Her
lips were a half inch away from his.  She cleared her throat and jerked her
head back.

Josh whispered again, "Well?"

"I like your eyes," she admitted hoarsely.

He felt the same awareness that had made her voice husky. 
And reminded himself, No way, Flannigan.  She's a career woman through and
through.  He'd done some checking.  Lexa was involved with the senior center;
she'd been instrumental in getting it started.

She'd established her job counseling service six years ago. 
According to Clare, she was also involved in Project Literacy and the YWCA.  He
didn't know how Lexa found time to brush her teeth.  He'd been involved with a
woman a few years ago who couldn't make time to have dinner let alone a
relationship.  Josh knew exactly what he wanted--a woman who knew how to play
and did so on a regular basis.

A person needed time to play.  He bet time was a precious
commodity to Alexandra Kittredge and he still wondered why she'd make time for
his aunt.

Stanley ended his spiel with, "I will be glad to see
any of you who want to talk to me.  Just call my office."

Lexa tried not to be so aware of Josh.  But it wasn't easy. 
His cologne reminded her he was there, as did the pressure of his elbow against
hers.  She looked straight ahead.

Edna thanked the financial advisor for coming and turned to
the rest of the agenda.  "Lexa brought costumes for anyone who might need
one for our Halloween Party on October thirtieth.  Now I need a list of people
to bring refreshments.  Who's first?"

Edna formulated a list ranging from hot hors d'oeuvres to
brownies.  The group discussed plans to visit nursing homes with favors for
Thanksgiving and Christmas, dates for social events in November, and the agenda
for their next meeting.  After Edna had taken notes, she asked, "Is there
anything else we need to discuss?"

A woman in the third row raised her hand and stood.  "I
heard about a program in Carlisle.  The senior citizens offer time to answer
phone calls acting like Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus.  The numbers are published in
the paper and on the news, and children can call during certain hours.  Is
anybody interested?" Several people raised their hands and she said,
"See me after the meeting and we'll talk about it some more."

Lexa raised her hand, was recognized, and stood.  "I
want you to know the stores in the malls are hiring extra security guards for
Christmas.  So if any of you are interested in temporary work, let me
know."

"Are they hiring women?" a woman with a blond
rinse asked from the far right.

"If you can do the job, I don't see why not," Lexa
answered with a smile.  "You can always threaten to sue for discrimination
if you have the qualifications and they won't interview you."

"Is there anything women don't want to do?" a
gruff old gent who had served in the military for forty years grumbled.

He was answered by a lady three seats down the row. 
"Yeah, mister.  Dishes.  I've had enough for a lifetime."

Everyone who heard the exchange laughed.  Lexa grinned and
said, "I do have openings strictly for men.  Some of the stores need Santa
Clauses."

Josh's baritone rang out.  "Mine included."

Lexa looked at him with surprise.  He shrugged and stood
up.  "My name's Josh Flannigan.  Many of you might know my Aunt
Clare."  Several heads bobbed.  "I own the Toy Tank and I do need a
Santa Claus.  So if anyone's interested, see me after the meeting."

"Hey, maybe you could help us out," a man in the
row in front of Josh commented.  "Got any broken toys?  We're fixin' em up
to give to kids who won't get any."

"I sure do.  They pile up until inventory when I get
rid of them.  If you think you can fix them, they're yours."

"We can fix 'em," came from several places in the
crowd.

"I'll have my stock boy bring them over.  Just let me
know when you want them."

Lexa sat back down and so did Josh.  She leaned toward him. 
"You sure know how to make friends and influence people."

"It comes with age."

"It comes with wanting to get involved.  Look at
Clare."

She was beaming as she gazed at her nephew.

Lexa could've sworn Josh's cheeks flushed.

After all the business was discussed and comments noted, the
group was invited to socialize and snack on home-made cookies.  A man
approached Josh about being the store's Santa Claus.

Josh still managed to keep an eye on Lexa as she spoke with
Clare.  They mingled separately after that.  He tried to discover what he could
about this side of his aunt's life.  He couldn't believe he'd gotten so out of
touch.  Business was one thing, enjoying himself on weekends at the shore or
going hiking was important too.  But his aunt...she deserved more of his time
than quick phone calls.

Josh looked around to find Lexa sitting at a table with an
elderly man.  Her face was concerned, her pose attentive.  She patted the man's
hand and let hers rest on his. 

Josh moved closer.

He heard her say, "I'm sorry, Milt.  I hoped for your
sake it would work out."

"There's no fool like an old fool," he quoted
disparagingly.  "Why did I ever think a woman thirty years younger than me
would want me?  Me, Milton Finch.  She didn't want me.  She only said she'd
marry me so I'd keep buying her presents."

"Now, you don't know that," Lexa consoled.

"Yes, I do.  She sure didn't give back the diamond
bracelet or the fur coat or the Coach pocketbook."

"Milt, did you have fun when she was with you?"

"Havin' that pretty young thing on my arm made me feel
like a kid."

"Then it wasn't all bad, was it?"

He thought for a while.  "No, I guess not.  I sure felt
great for a few months.  But now, I feel so alone again."

"But nights like this help, don't they?"

"Yeah.  I guess."

"You know, there are many attractive women around who
are closer to your age."

"I suppose I haven't been lookin' at the right women. 
When I met Sandy at the grocery store and she seemed to like me, I thought it
was meant to be."

"We all make mistakes."

"Yeah, but I'm not going to make the same one again. 
I'm going to look for a nice, down to earth, sixty-year-old woman."

"You might find her right here.  Mrs. Grayson was
terribly disappointed when you didn't come around for a few months."