Buch lesen: «Hometown Reunion»

“I should have told you about Mandy,” Scott said.

“Why didn’t you?” Lori said.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to talk about her, especially when Joey is listening.”

“I’m sorry you lost someone you loved.”

“I don’t want sympathy. I mean, it was more than three years ago. My son and I have moved on.”

Scott wondered if she could ever understand. It was tempting to pour out all his feelings. Lori was the best listener he’d ever known, but sometimes words weren’t enough.

Joey yelled out to him, and Scott followed Lori to the edge of the sandbox. Scott bent down to brush some sand off his son’s hair. Lori said goodbye to them and started walking home alone.

He watched her disappear from sight. Every instinct urged him to go after her, but even if he caught up, what then? He had nothing to offer her. He’d loved her once, or so he thought. Could they even think about a future together?

PAM ANDREWS

is the mother-daughter writing team of Pam Hanson and Barbara Andrews. Barbara makes her home with Pam and her family in Nebraska. They have written numerous books for such publishers as Steeple Hill Books and Guideposts. Pam’s background is in journalism, and she and her college-professor husband have two sons. Barbara, the mother of four and grandmother of seven, also writes articles and a column about collectible postcards.

Hometown Reunion
Pam Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

After all, every house is built by someone,

but God is the builder of everything.

—Hebrews 3:4

To friends, near and far.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Scott Mara started walking toward his pickup, holding the small, damp hand of his four-year-old son, Joey. He was about to open the door and boost him up to his car seat when he caught a glimpse of a woman walking toward him on the sidewalk. At first he paid no attention, anxious to finish his errands and get to Joey’s dental appointment. As a single father, he was hard-pressed to keep up with all his son’s needs, especially those that kept him from work, but he was a little worried about one of Joey’s baby teeth, wondering if it should be pulled to make room for the new one bulging in his jaw.

The woman had to be a stranger in town. He had lived in Apple Grove, Iowa, all his life and knew everyone by sight, if not by name. Still, there was something familiar about her. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks, because she reminded him of someone he’d known a long time ago.

She started to cross the street, and he impulsively scooped up his son to cut her off on the other side. It was unlikely that Lori Raymond was back in town, but his curiosity got the best of him.

“Daddy, I can walk,” Joey noisily protested.

“Sure you can,” he said, depositing him on the sidewalk a few yards in front of the woman.

“Scott!”

It was a voice that made his spine tingle.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said.

He pulled off his straw Western-style hat and kept one hand on Joey’s shoulder so he wouldn’t wander off.

“Lori, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I’m visiting my aunt.”

“Of course,” he said, feeling awkward because he hadn’t immediately connected her to Bess Raymond.

“How’ve you been?” she asked.

It was the kind of casual question people asked each other all the time, but coming from her, it made him want to answer honestly.

Instead he said, “Fine. How about you?”

“Good, although I’ve gotten myself in something of a predicament.”

“Oh?”

Joey was squirming. Scott knew that he should cut the conversation short and get to the dentist, but Lori used to be his favorite person to talk to.

“Aunt Bess has drafted me to help restart the Highway Café. I keep telling her that I won’t be here long, but you know how she is.”

She still had the same mischievous little grin, and when she looked up at him, he remembered how she’d always made him feel better about himself.

“I sure do.” He smiled, recalling how his favorite teacher, Lori’s aunt, could put him in his place when he deserved it. “You’re on vacation from your job?” He knew it was none of his business, but he’d often wondered what had become of her after high school, if she’d gotten married, had a family.

“Afraid not. I came to a parting of the ways with the head chef at the restaurant where I was working. I’ve been offered a job in a new restaurant that’s opening after Labor Day, if I decide to go back to Chicago. What about you? I saw you coming out of the hardware store. You always did like building things. Are you doing it for a living now?”

“Daddy!”

“Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. This is my son, Joey. Joey, this is Miss Raymond—it is still Miss, isn’t it?”

She bent and offered her hand to his son. Much to his father’s satisfaction, Joey responded with grave courtesy.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Joey. You can call me Lori.” She smiled and straightened. “And it is still Miss.”

He wanted to say that the men in Chicago must be blind to let her slip away, but he squelched the impulse. It had been nearly ten years since he’d last seen her. He remembered her question and gave the shortest possible answer.

“I have my own contracting business, but most of the time, I’m the only employee.”

“Somehow I didn’t expect…”

She trailed off, uncertain how much she should say, but he could guess. She hadn’t expected him to stay in Apple Grove.

Some things were best left unsaid.

“You look good, Lori.” It sounded lame, but it was all he could think of saying.

What a feeble compliment, he thought. She looked terrific. Her dark brown eyes sparkled. Her cheeks were rosy, and her thick chestnut curls were spilling out of a ponytail, the way they had in high school. He’d been a fool not to tell her how he’d felt about her back then, but the gulf between them had been too wide. He didn’t want to think about how different his life might be if he hadn’t been constrained by her strong faith, one he couldn’t share.

“Daddy, we’re going to be late!”

Joey impatiently tugged on his pant leg. If there was one thing his son hated, it was being late.

“We’re on our way to the dentist,” Scott explained. “It’s been nice seeing you, Lori. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

“Thanks, Scott. It is good to be back.”

As soon as Joey was settled into his car seat, Scott started thinking of all the questions he should have asked. But maybe it was for the best. He and Lori had taken different forks in the road. He had too much on his plate to torment himself with what might have been.

Lori spent the time before her aunt came home from school organizing the cheerful second-floor bedroom that had always been her home away from home, but her mind wasn’t on the task of unpacking. She’d been so surprised at seeing Scott again that she hadn’t asked any of the things she wanted to know. Had he married someone she knew? Did they have other children? Why did Scott decide to stay in Apple Grove? Surely he could have found better opportunities in a larger town.

She couldn’t get him out of her mind as she filled drawers lined with tissue paper and hung the rest of her clothes in the closet. He’d never been what high school girls called cute, but his clear blue eyes and high cheekbones made his face memorable. Now, at twenty-nine, two years older than her, he had a brooding quality that made her want to know if everything was well with him.

She went through her unpacking absentmindedly, her thoughts focused on the brief meeting with Scott. It didn’t take her long to finish, since she’d never been a person to accumulate a lot of possessions or a large wardrobe. She’d brought her chef’s knives, still in the trunk of her car, and a good supply of work clothes, but it hadn’t been worthwhile to move her well-worn secondhand furniture from the suburban Chicago apartment she’d been sharing with a friend. She’d offered first choice to her recently married ex-roommate and donated the rest to a charity shop.

When she’d done all that could be done, she sat on the edge of the bed and caught a glimpse of her image in the full-length gilt-framed mirror mounted on the wall. The face that looked back at her was weary. Her dark brown eyes were shadowed, and her chestnut mane had grown into an untamed mass of curls. She hadn’t bothered with makeup since that awful day when she’d rashly walked out of Arcadia, the posh Chicago restaurant where she’d been working.

Maybe she’d set her sights too high, but she’d been thrilled when she was hired by Gardner Knolls as an apprentice chef at one of his three Windy City restaurants. She’d expected to start at the bottom, and that meant doing all the menial chores, from chopping vegetables to taking inventory in the freezer.

The trouble was, she’d started at the bottom and stayed at the bottom, while chefs with less talent were regularly promoted. When Adrian, a klutzy young man of meager talent and four years her junior, was given charge of the luncheon service, she realized that the head chef would never let her realize her potential. He had trained in Paris and looked down his nose at her small town Iowa origins, sneering at her for winning county-fair blue ribbons.

She didn’t regret quitting on the spot, but now the question was, should she say yes to the job offer she had? It might be hard to find anything better since she wasn’t likely to get a good reference after walking out without giving notice. But could she afford to stay in Chicago without a roommate to share expenses?

Lori wanted to consider the new job offer calmly and logically, but it was her nature to crave the rush of excitement that came with being pushed to the maximum. It was what she loved most about being a chef, creating wonderful dishes under pressure. She felt at loose ends, and neither her aunt nor her parents could help her find her way. Only the Lord could give her the guidance she so badly needed.

“Dear Lord,” she prayed, sitting on the edge of the bed, with her head bowed, “help me to forgive those who have wronged me and to accept responsibility for my own bad decisions. Please show me a way to serve You and use the talents You’ve given me. I thank You for having so richly blessed my life.”

She squeezed her hands together, willing herself to find forgiveness in her heart for the way the head chef had treated her, but it was exceedingly hard. There was a void in her heart, and she’d let it fill up with anger.

Maybe a short stay in Apple Grove would give her time to put things in perspective. She needed to recover not only her self-confidence but her commitment to excel in her career. She loved making people happy with cuisine that was not only wonderful tasting but good for them, as well.

Her thoughts strayed to her chance meeting with Scott. No one had been more eager to leave town than he had, yet he’d stayed and was raising a son here. Sometimes life was a puzzle, and she didn’t begin to have all the answers.

By the time Aunt Bess got home from school, Lori had showered and dressed in white walking shorts and a bright peach tank top. It was warm for May, and she was glad to change out of her jeans and polo shirt.

“My, don’t you look sweet,” Bess said when she saw her niece. “But you didn’t need to change for Carl and me.”

“Carl?”

“Oh, I’ve been so excited about you being here, I forgot to tell you. We’re meeting Carl Mitchell at the café after dinner to go over some things that need doing. He promised the electricity would be on by then. Guess we should be able to rely on him since he worked for the power company for forty-two years before he retired. Now he has plenty of free time to help get the café back on track.”

“So he’s one of the twenty-four people who bought the café?”

It boggled her mind that so many people had banded together to reopen the Highway Café after it had been closed for over a year. When it looked as if no one would buy it, her aunt had spearheaded a campaign to have a committee buy it. The town was suffering without a place where people could congregate and get a good meal.

“Him, me and twenty-two others,” her aunt said with a soft chuckle. “But don’t worry. None of us know beans about running a restaurant. We’ll do things your way.”

“I hope you’ve told your committee that I’ll only be here a little while, just long enough to get things started and help you hire permanent help.”

“I haven’t told them yet, but I’ll be sure to mention it at our next meeting,” Bess promised. “Now, I have two TV dinners. Would you like turkey with stuffing or roast beef with mashed potatoes?”

Lori quietly sighed at her aunt’s comment about not telling the committee yet, but she didn’t say anything about it.

“Either is fine. I’ll put them in the microwave for you.”

The last time her aunt had tried to cook frozen dinners, she’d mistakenly used the regular oven directions and microwaved an entrée to the consistency of shoe leather.

“Would you mind? I’ll just slip into some old clothes. Last time I was there, I couldn’t help but notice how dusty the café is, but don’t worry about the dirt. We have lots of volunteers for the cleanup.”

Her aunt soon returned, her rust-colored, gray-streaked hair covered by a little flowered bandana. She was wearing faded jeans and a yellow-and-brown striped smock that went nearly to her knees, a drastic change from the sedate navy, forest-green and burgundy dresses she favored for teaching.

Lori made a show of eating some of the bland turkey dinner, but she needn’t have bothered. Bess was so excited about the café that she scarcely noticed her niece’s lack of appetite.

Bess still lived in the yellow frame house on Second Avenue that she’d inherited from her parents. From the front porch, Lori could get a glimpse of the church steeple, and it brought back happy memories of Sunday school, church picnics and the fellowship of the congregation. She was looking forward to meeting the new minister on Sunday, although she regretted that Reverend Green wouldn’t be there. He’d finally taken a much-deserved retirement.

“I saw Scott Mara when I took a walk around town,” Lori said, trying to sound casual.

“Scott was such a little rascal when he was in my class,” Bess said as she bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up their hasty dinner. “He was always the town bad boy, but he had a sweet nature for all that. Oh, dear, we’d better hurry. Carl will be waiting for us.”

They elected to walk since it was only a few blocks, crossing Beech Street and approaching the café from the rear. The back door was padlocked, forcing them to cut between buildings to the Main Street entrance.

“Oh, good! The lights are on,” Bess said. “Now you can get a better idea of what needs to be done.”

A faded blue pickup like the one Scott had driven was parked at an angle in front of the café. Of course, there were probably a hundred like it in the county, but she couldn’t help wondering whether she would see him again while she was in town.

“Come on in, ladies.” A portly man with a white beard and a matching mane of hair opened the front door and motioned them inside.

“This is my niece,” Bess said. “Lori, Carl Mitchell is the man who’s going to help us put this place in order.”

“Not by myself, I’m not,” he said, with a belly-shaking laugh. “That’s why Scott is here.”

Carl gestured at the man who was stooped down, examining the front of the lunch counter, with a small boy beside him. He slowly rose, straightening to his full six feet two inches, exactly ten inches taller than Lori. It was easier for her to remember this than to look directly into his eyes.

“Scott, this is Bessie’s niece—”

Scott nodded. “Yes, I saw Lori in town earlier.”

“Scott, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Lori’s voice didn’t sound as though it belonged to her.

“Oh, you two know each other,” Carl said. “Splendid, since you’ll be working together until we get this place fixed up.”

“Scott runs his own construction company,” Bess said. “He did some wonderful work at the school, so I know he’ll take care of everything that needs doing around here.”

“Hi, Lori,” Joey said.

Lori was enchanted when the little boy remembered her name and offered his hand for a very adult shake.

“Lori has agreed to be our chief cook and manager,” Bess said.

“Only until the café is up and running,” Lori added so quickly that the words came out sounding breathless.

“I’d like to say that the place will be ready for business in a few weeks, but from what I’ve seen so far, there’s quite a bit to be done to get it up to code,” Scott said. “I’m going to have to rip out the wainscoting to see what’s underneath, and that window will fall out of the frame if someone blows hard.”

“You’re making it sound expensive,” Carl said, his laugh not quite so hearty now.

“I’ll give you the best deal I can,” Scott said, speaking to the older man but looking in Lori’s direction. “First, I’ll have to check out the basement and roof, but it’s the kitchen that really worries me. I don’t know how they ever got a gas range that big and heavy into the place.”

“Old Amos Conklin was real proud of that monstrosity,” Carl said, talking about the café’s longtime owner. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he took out the front window to get it in.”

“Yeah, that would work since you’ve got double swinging doors going into the kitchen. If it were up to me, though, I’d sell it for scrap metal.” Scott shook his head, and his eyes met Lori’s. “How does that sound to you?” he asked her.

Lori looked around the dusky interior of the old kitchen with misgivings. The café had been in the same family for three generations, and the gas range looked to be as old as the original owner.

“It’s not a decision I can make,” she said tactfully. “I’m only temporary help.”

“Of course, you can, Lori. You know much more about running a kitchen than anyone on the committee,” her aunt said.

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Carl said. “Whatever works for you is fine with us. We planned on making some big improvements when we pooled our money to buy it. We’re hoping you’ll work with Scott on this.”

“I really don’t know anything about renovations,” Lori replied.

“Maybe not, but you know how a restaurant should be. I think it’s a splendid idea for you to consult with Scott,” Bess said.

“Splendid,” Lori repeated in an unsure voice.

“I can’t do anything until Monday,” Scott said. “I have to finish a wheelchair ramp this weekend so the home owner can come home from a nursing home. Why don’t you meet me here Monday morning, after I drop Joey off at day care. Make it about eight-fifteen.”

Scott scooped up his son, said his goodbyes and headed for the door.

Her aunt beamed, Carl smiled benevolently and Lori felt as if she’d just stepped into quicksand. She wanted to do this favor for her aunt as quickly as possible and get on with her life somewhere else. Scott was the one person in Apple Grove who could awaken old feelings and complicate her life.

What had she gotten herself into?

Chapter Two

Anyone who thought small-town life was too quiet should follow Aunt Bess around for a day, Lori thought.

She was pretending to read a book she’d borrowed from her aunt’s bookcase, but the words were a meaningless jumble as she thought about the prospect of working with Scott.

“Just one more phone call,” Bess called out from the kitchen. “Then we’ll have a little chat before bed.”

Lori knew that her aunt was eager to hear all the details about her departure from the job in Chicago, but she wasn’t ready to release all the pain bottled up inside of her. Bess would see her point of view and envelop her in sympathy. She would counsel her to put her faith in the Lord and would tell her everything would work out for the best. Lori wholeheartedly wanted to believe that, but she wasn’t ready to share her frustration and loss of confidence, not even with her dear aunt.

“I know you and Scott will work well together,” Bess said, plopping down in her recliner and using her toes to kick off her sandals. “I remember how you always dropped by when he was scheduled to cut my grass. When you were here, he took double the time to do my yard. Seeing as how you both had such big crushes, I was surprised that you never dated.”

Lori blushed. Had she and Scott been so transparent with their feelings back then?

“Well, it looks like you could use a good night’s sleep,” Bess said. “I hate to admit it, but I’m worn to a frazzle, what with the field trip my class is planning and all the business with the café. I think I’ll go to bed. Is there anything you need?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’ll say good-night, then. I’m so happy the Lord has brought you home to Apple Grove.”

“I’m grateful to be here. Thank you for taking me in.”

“As if I don’t love you like a daughter,” her aunt said, giving her a hug.

For a few moments after Bess left the room, Lori basked in the warmth of her aunt’s love. She adored Bess, and she hated the thought of disappointing her when it came time to leave.

Monday morning Scott gave Joey’s face a quick once-over with the washcloth, satisfied that his milk mustache and the stray bits of oatmeal were gone. He might only be imagining it, but the women at the day care seemed to inspect his son with eagle eyes whenever Scott dropped him off. They didn’t seem to trust a single father to keep his child neat and clean. It wasn’t easy, but he loved Joey, and would do all he could to raise him right.

“Can I take my yo-yo?”

“Better not. We’ll have another lesson after supper.”

Joey was showing amazing dexterity with his hands, and Scott was proud that his son was taking after him that way, if not in appearance. He had pale blond hair and bright blue eyes, not unlike Scott’s in childhood, but his heart-shaped face was nothing like his father’s. Scott could still see Mandy’s face etched on their son’s.

“I hope we don’t have that soup with things in it,” Joey said as he followed his father to the pickup. “I hate vegables.”

“Vegetables,” Scott corrected absentmindedly. “Climb up, big guy.”

It was a short drive from the trailer park to the day-care center. He’d tried leaving Joey with a neighbor, but the woman had been more interested in her three poodles than his son. When he’d learned that Joey hardly ever got to play outside, he’d immediately enrolled him in group care. It was more expensive, something he could barely afford since his business gave him a decent living but not much for extras.

He parked in front of the neat brick house and went around to the back entrance that led to the lower level, which had been converted into space for preschool children.

As usual, one of the helpers gave Joey a warm welcome when they went inside and immediately steered him to a play station.

“Did you bring the form for our trip to the farm?” Betty Drummond, the head caregiver, asked Scott.

He’d flunked parenthood again. The pink slip of paper was at home, on the kitchen counter.

“Would it be all right if I drop it off when I pick Joey up?”

Betty had a round, friendly face framed by fluffy silver hair, but her silence told him that it wasn’t all right.

“The children are really looking forward to their trip to the farm,” she said.

“I’ll run home and get it,” he said, wondering why she didn’t have an extra form he could sign there. Surely he wasn’t the only parent who ever forgot.

“I’d appreciate it,” Betty said cordially enough, although no doubt her thoughts weren’t as understanding as her voice. Didn’t moms ever make mistakes?

He returned to the aging white-and-green trailer he called home and hurriedly filled in the blanks on the field-trip form. He couldn’t fault the day care for wanting a doctor’s name and an emergency number, but the closest person he had as a contact person was his sister, Doreen, and she lived nearly forty miles away.

His parents were even farther away, since his father had had to move west to Omaha to find a job when Apple Grove’s only plant had closed. He’d worked his way up to foreman of the milk-processing facility, and it had been a blow to lose the only employer he’d ever had as an adult. Now his dad was counting the months until he could afford to retire from a tedious night watchman job.

All the friends he and Mandy had had as a couple had dropped out of sight, too. Most likely it was his fault. Taking care of Joey and trying to make a living took all his time and energy.

By the time he delivered the permission form, he was late for his appointment at the old café. He’d made a few rough sketches and done some estimates to show the committee, but he had a lot more work to do before he could make a final bid for the project. He never would’ve dreamed he’d be working with Lori Raymond. He still marveled that she was back in Apple Grove.

He drove the short distance to Main Street and parked in front of the café. Ten years ago he would have done anything for a chance to be alone with Lori, but she’d been a good girl in every sense of the word. Everything she’d said and done had sent him a message: She wouldn’t have anything to do with a wild kid who didn’t embrace churchgoing.

He felt differently about a lot of things now, even taking Joey to Sunday school every week, but he still didn’t feel comfortable in church or feel God played a part in his life. He’d had to grow up fast when Mandy died, but part of him still felt like the rebellious outcast. The town accepted him for his construction skills, but he never felt like he belonged.

The lights showed dimly through the filthy front window, so he guessed Lori was in the café, waiting for him. He couldn’t believe it, but he actually felt a little nervous about seeing her again.

Scott was late.

Lori hoped nothing was wrong and knew it was her own worries about her future that were making her impatient. She certainly didn’t want to get off to a bad start with Scott by mentioning his tardiness. The sooner he could get the café ready to open, the sooner she could leave to take a permanent job.

“Hello!”

She heard him calling from the front and went out to meet him.

“Good morning,” she said, surprised that she felt a little breathless seeing him again.

“Sorry I’m late.” He didn’t explain why.

“I was just looking around. It looks worse in the daylight.”

He laughed. “I think they’d be better off building a new place on the outskirts of town, but that isn’t what they want.”

“No, my aunt made it plain that they’re hoping to revive Main Street.”

“I thought they’d have trouble getting a cook. A lot of the people who used to live here are gone.”

“But you’re still here,” she blurted out, immediately wishing she could take the words back.

She’d vowed to avoid personal comments. After all, Scott didn’t know that she’d lived for a glimpse of him all through high school. Whenever he had spoken to her, she’d recorded every word he’d said in her diary. But she wasn’t a teenager with a crush anymore, and she didn’t expect them to be more than casual acquaintances in the short time she’d be in town.

“Fate is funny sometimes,” he said, looking around the dining area, with a little frown. “Do you want to keep the lunch counter or tear it out for more table room?”

“I don’t have a strong opinion either way. I’m more interested in the kitchen,” she said. Talking about the café renovations was much safer than dwelling on the past.

“I have a feeling the committee wants things just the way they’ve always been.”

“You’re probably right. My aunt hasn’t talked to me about finances, but she seems to think a few nails and a little cleaning will make it as good as new.”

He laughed softly and took off the battered cowboy hat. His hair was a darker blond than she remembered, and tiny wrinkle lines radiated from the corners of his serious blue eyes. Still, ten years had made him even more handsome, and she imagined that he was a favorite with all the women in town.

“I have to check out the cellar and the roof, and I’ll take a look at the wiring and plumbing. Hopefully, I won’t find anything really bad, but the pharmacy down the street was riddled with termites a few years back. I had to shore up the whole building after the exterminators were done. I’m hoping that won’t be necessary here, but this building is about a hundred years old.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” She exhaled slowly and realized she’d been holding her breath.

“I wish they would’ve called me to do an inspection before they bought the building. Most buyers have one before they agree to a sale, but the folks here were too eager to restart the café.”

“That would be my aunt,” she said, with a little laugh. “I have a feeling she spearheaded the whole idea.”

“Where do you want to start?”

“Oh.” She was a bit surprised that he wanted her to give directions. “The kitchen, I guess.”

“Thought any more about junking that monstrosity?”

“The range? I guess it depends on whether the committee wants to buy a new one.”

The kitchen seemed even smaller with Scott taking up much of the room between the huge range and the work counter.

“My aunt has plenty of volunteers for the cleanup. I imagine they can haul away the debris and such.”