Chancey Jobs (Chancey Books Book 4) Read online

  With a deep breath, she pushes herself up from the step and groans a bit. "Oh, well, guess my age is showing," she says with a chuckle. "Best be getting back over to the house. Have a beautiful day, y'all."

  She saunters across the park towards her huge house. One in a row of restored homes from days when Chancey was a center of commerce and railroad activity. Her home, which she shares with her husband, FM, is the loveliest and biggest in the row.

  "She's walking slow, actually, well, actually strolling," I say to Laney as we watch her go.

  "And did you see what she had on?" Laney shakes her head. "She's always so put together, she never looks like… well, like my mom.

  I stand up. "She looked softer, almost happy." Dusting off my jeans, I pull to lengthen the soft cotton sweater Missus complimented me on. "And she complimented me. She never does that."

  Laney nods. "You know, it's cute, but that's not that great a color on you. Wonder what she's up to?"

  "Who knows? I mean, she also said you have the prettiest eyes in town. She must be up to something, right?"

  Laney puts her hands in the pockets of her blue jean dress and tilts her head to the side. "But that's true, so it doesn't tell us anything. Anyway, want some help with the bookstore?"

  "No," I blurt out. Half-due to being hurt by my friend’s insinuation that my compliment from Missus means evil and hers is just accepted fact; half because if I ask for her help, she'll take over. Been there, done that. "Our shelving is coming today. Maybe that'll help get Patty in gear."

  "Good luck with that," Laney calls as she heads toward her car, and I cross the sidewalk and street toward the store. Compared to the brightly lit, shiny windows of Moonshots, all the rest of the block looks dark and gloomy. Even Shannon's bright flowers in her half of our building look drab. Must be the lighting, but we can't afford those fancy lights. At Ruby's, the windows are blocked by the booths at the bottom and ancient blinds all catawampus at the top. Maybe Moonshots should put us all out of business, I think, as I push open our door and the little bell above it jingles.

  "Hey, Shannon."

  "Morning, Carolina. You saw the Moonshots? Isn't that awesome to have right next door to us? That Jordan is a treasure. She's already set up a standing order for flowers. She wants stems of whatever's in season on each of the tables each week, and she has ten tables. Ten!" Shannon draws in a deep breath, then blows it out. "This is the best day of my life."

  Shannon isn't exactly cute, but you think she is when you first meet her. She's short, got a big bosom, little waist and behind, but since she always wears dresses you can't really tell that right away. Her hair is jet black and cut in a pixie style. At first you think she's twenty and cute, like I said. Then you realize she's over thirty, and her face isn't pixie-ish, just kind of pinched. Like she's always trying to solve a really hard math problem. Oh, and she's constantly in motion so it's hard to get a true reading. I like her, but she talks an awful lot. Mostly about herself, which is kinda refreshing in Chancey.

  "Where's Patty?" Everything looks the same in the bookstore as it did earlier. "I thought she was going to mop the floor."

  Shannon shrugs. She doesn't even look up from the order she's writing. "She's out back where the utility sink is. She's been out there forever."

  Deeper in the building, away from the front windows, the darker it gets. At the bottom of the staircase that leads up to Patty's apartment, there is also a door leading outside. We rarely use it because the back lot is full of broken concrete, gravel, and weeds. There's a small room with a wooden door where junk is stored, along with the mops, brooms, and bucket. Patty's mom owns the building, and slumlord would be an apt and generous title.

  As I push open the door I hear crying, but I can tell it's not Patty. I push on out and realize it's coming from above me. To my right, behind the Moonshots, there is a metal grating decking area at the rear of the second floor, like an extra-large fire escape. Its stairs come down right in front of me where another set of metal steps goes up to Patty's apartment door. Patty's apartment doesn't have any decking or balcony.

  Looking up through the metal grating, I can see chairs and a table, pillows, and even some rugs. Looks like Patty's flip flops on the person sitting in one corner, and then I see where the crying is coming from. Jordan’s black, high-heeled boots are in that corner.

  "He won't even let me talk to them. His mother has them with her at her condo, with a heated swimming pool and daily trips to FAO Swartz. She spoils them rotten and she hates me." Jordan pulls in a broken breath. "How can she love them so much and hate me? They came from me."

  "What are their names?" Patty asks.

  Jordan takes a deep breath. "Carly is the two-year-old, and Francie is three." The metal flooring creaks as she stands up. "I should get back downstairs."

  She continues talking to Patty, but as they move for the stairs, I slip back inside. She has two children? Wonder why she's here without them?

  "Did you find her?" Shannon yells from the front.

  I scurry away from the door. "No. Oh, here she is! Hey Patty, where you been?"

  She tucks a hank of hair behind her ears and shrugs. "Nowhere," she says as she lumbers past me.

  Without the mop.

  Chapter 3

  "Susan, do you know if there's an apartment above McCartney's junk shop?" I've stepped out to the sidewalk to make my call.

  "I believe so. A couple of Mac's sons lived up there at different times. Why?"

  "Just wondering if that's where the lady, Jordan, who’s running the Moonshots is living."

  "You've met her? I hear she's glamorous and beautiful."

  "She is and apparently she and Patty have stuck up some kind of friendship. How weird is that? So if she's living up there and new to town…" Come on, Susan, I think. Don't let me down.

  "We should fix her some food and take it over to welcome her. I'm at the Piggly Wiggly now, so I'll get fixings for chicken and dumplings and a salad. You can take her some, well, some tea."

  I roll my eyes, but agree. "Can I borrow your tea jug?"

  "Sure, Laney always brings cookies. Now, I want to know if you've talked to Missus today? What's up with her?"

  "All sweetness and light? She wore an old pair of cotton gardening pants and frumpy sweater to the gazebo earlier. Her hair was soft, like she hadn't even used hair spray today."

  "She wore the same outfit up to the church."

  "No way."

  "And stood there, soft hair and all, talking to the pastor. Didn't faze her a bit. She kept smiling and talking. You think she's drinking?"

  "Laney asked her if she was high."

  "Lord, I bet that got her mad."

  "Nope, not a bit. She laughed. Wonder what's going on. Hey, wait, FM is headed toward Ruby's. I'll head him off and see what I can find out. I'll call you back."

  "Hey, FM," I say as I wave my hand. I turn my head to look both ways crossing the intersection between our block of storefronts and the corner where Ruby's sits, and then jog across the narrow street. On the other side, I look up just in time to see FM double-timing it back up his sidewalk. He bounds up the porch steps, enters his and Missus’ front door, and shuts it behind him.

  This leaves me with my mouth hanging open on the corner, so I tuck my phone in my pocket and move to Ruby's front door. Might as well have a muffin while I work this thing out.

  "Hey Libby, any muffins left?"

  She motions for me to sit at the counter that faces the back. We're the only ones in Ruby's as it's almost lunch time, and everyone knows Ruby doesn't do lunch on Fridays. Well, most Fridays, unless it's raining, in which case she makes chili. Only on rainy Fridays. Makes me think of the detailed schedule of hours on the shiny, glass doors at Moonshots. No wondering or guessing there; the schedule makes perfect, logical sense. It also makes me kind of sad.

  Libby pours me a cup of steaming coffee and pours herself one, too. Then she sits down beside me. "Nope, no more muffins. Been crazy here al
l morning. We could've sold a blue million muffins, but after that woman from that moon place showed herself to Ruby and all, well, Ruby didn't feel like baking. Left here saying she might never bake another muffin." Libby blows on her coffee and shakes her head. "It's a tragedy. Pure tragedy."

  "I'm sorry. So Ruby's gone home?"

  "Yep, first time in the eighteen years I've worked here that she left before I did. You know if she wants to close, she just closes and we go home. Today she said she didn't trust herself to make sure the ovens and coffee pots were turned off and the door locked. I’ve just been cleaning up and wandering around, thinking about what we're going to do."

  "Aww, Ruby'll come around and this place will be full of people. Wait til folks find out how much a coffee at Moonshots costs. We can have the best of both worlds."

  "Maybe." She shrugs. "So how's your shop coming along? I hear you're getting shelves today."

  "Yeah, then we can get some books set up and actually start to look like a bookstore. Well, I better go. See if I can light a fire under Patty to get some cleaning done." I take another sip of the coffee, which is bitter from sitting on a hot burner too long, and then stand up and thread through the tables and chairs.

  "Well,” Libby says, “come over tomorrow morning and maybe we'll have some muffins."

  "Can't tomorrow. We'll all be going to Athens early. Will graduates from the University of Georgia tomorrow!"

  "Congratulations, I can't believe it's already time for graduations to start. What's he going to do after graduation?"

  "He's headed straight off to Washington, D.C. for an internship one of his professors helped him get there, and then he'll begin law school in August. And he got a teaching assistant job with a good salary. Two more years at UGA."

  "Law, you must be so proud of him. He's a good boy. Y’all have a real good time tomorrow."

  "We will!" I practically shout as I leave. It’s hard for me to believe Will is done with his undergrad. Tomorrow will be a fun family day, and maybe being on campus will get Savannah excited about her senior year and help her get a move on filling out college applications. She’s been dragging her feet there in a way that makes Patty look like a jackrabbit.

  With one eye open for FM or Missus, I follow the sidewalk to the florist. Even in the shadows of the tall buildings, it’s warm. I've been warned how hot graduation will be tomorrow in the stadium, with no shade from the intense May sun. Athens isn't really in the mountains, so this time of year it feels a lot hotter. My dress for tomorrow has short sleeves, and I have an assortment of visors packed to shield our eyes so we can see the grand moment Will crosses the stage. He's loved University of Georgia, and even though he applied to some law schools out of state, I know he made the right decision to stay there. At least, it was the right decision as far as his mother is concerned.

  At our shop window, I stop and watch Patty mopping the old wooden floor in our half of the business for a moment.

  With the opening of the door and the bell dinging above my head, Patty looks up.

  "Patty! This looks wonderful. You've taken away years, decades of dirt. I never thought the wood could show through like this."

  Shannon comes out from behind her counter, and with her arms crossed examines the floor of her business. "Yeah, guess I should've worked harder on my side. Think it could look like that?"

  Patty's face turns pink and she nods. "I can do yours next. I'm good at cleaning."

  "No," I interject. "Shannon can clean her own floor, or you can do it sometime after the shelves are in place. When are they getting here anyway?"

  She shrugs. "Don't know. He said afternoon." She goes back to finishing up the last corner.

  Just then the front door bangs open, and a man bellows, "Someone order some shelves? Heard there's a bookstore with no books ’cause it's got no shelves." A tall man with frizzy red hair holds back the heavy glass door with one ample shoulder. "Hey, Patty!" he shouts and waves at her, and then waves at me and Shannon. "Howdy do, ladies. I'm Andy, Andy Taylor, and nope, I don't live in Mayberry. Here's the box with some extra brackets, if you want to add shelves. I've got the extra shelves for you, too." He drops a cardboard box onto Shannon's counter. "Can I set it there for a minute?" He turns back to the door. "Will this stay open, or do I need someone to hold it open?"

  Shannon bounces toward him. "I'll show you how to prop it open." Her boobs seem larger and her dress shorter as she leans over to set the piece on the door that most people would engage with their foot. But what's the fun in that when a lean just a bit too far means showing your panties? Purple with lace trim, in case you're wondering.

  Andy nods at her and breezes past. I watch her watch him stride up the sidewalk.

  Patty finishes with the last corner of the store and pushes the mop and bucket against the back wall just in time to watch Andy cart a tall metal bookshelf in on his dolly.

  As he sits it down, I shake my head and say, "These are huge. Look how tall."

  "That's why I brought the extra brackets, figured you might want to add some shelves to each unit since you'll probably sell a lot of paperbacks. You can get an awful lot of books on six of these shelves."

  He whips the dolly around and heads back out the front door. By the time he's bringing in the sixth, and final, shelf, we've figured out how to place them.

  "Some couches and a couple tables by the front windows, right?" I say to Patty, who has gained more color in her cheeks, and words in her answers, since Andy has been here. Somewhere around the third shelf, Shannon quit bending and displaying her flowery parts as it became evident Andy is more interested in Patty. It's like he's enjoying getting her to come out of her shell, but maybe he's trying a little too hard. Something has red flags springing up in my head. Maybe it's just that I can see Patty has lost her head already. She's acting kind of goofy, but she's moving at a speed above turtle, so I'm not gonna complain.

  Andy eases the last shelf in place and pulls the dolly away. "It's kind of a wall between the florist and the bookstore, but a wall you can see and walk through." Like dominos, the shelves stand down the center of the large space, spread far enough apart for two people to walk through side by side. "Maybe a counter there towards the back, and your seating area in the light from the window?"

  He stands surveying the space with his hands on his hips, his feet spread wide and every kink in his flame colored hair standing on end. His shoulders are wide, his waist a little narrower, and his hips and behind almost non-existent for such a big guy. He wipes his forehead on his sleeve and nods. "Yep, I have some furniture that would work great, and even a big old wooden counter. Nothing fancy, got it out of an old shoe store being torn down. I think it’s plywood. But with some paint, it would work just right. Patty, how about we go grab some dinner and then I can show you the furniture at my warehouse? Well, my old garage actually."

  "Can I, Carolina?" Patty looks at me, asking permission, but also not really sure she can actually go with him. And really, maybe she shouldn't. Maybe her instinct says she won't be safe. What do we know about him? Maybe it's not a good idea.

  Shannon tilts her head, leans on her counter so her blossoms bloom for all to see and says, "I'm free. I could go check it out. It is Friday night, you know."

  "It's Patty's store. She's going. Truck would be too crowded." I turn my back on Shannon's blossoms and walk over to put my arm around Patty. "Just change your shirt and come right back down. I have to leave, too." Nearing her stairs, I whisper, "You're a grown woman with good judgment. If you like the furniture and counter, we'll buy it." Then add a little louder, "As long as it's a good deal."

  Andy laughs. "Oh, it'll be a good deal."

  I push Patty up the stairs and turn to look at him. Shannon is actively pining for him from her side of the store, and I can't help but wonder what he sees in Patty. Compared to Shannon, she's no, well, no comparison. Alarms go off in my head and the red flags re-wave, but still I ask, "Where do you live, Andy?"

  "O
utside Cartersville. I'll take good care of Patty, I promise."

  "Good, I'll hold you to that."

  I fold up the red flags, turn off the alarms, and remind myself Patty is a grown woman. Besides, I have a graduation to get ready for.

  On the sidewalk, as I lock the door, I turn my head to watch Patty and Andy walk to his truck. They look pretty good together. He's taller than her, which can't be said for many guys around here, and the black shirt she put on isn't a T-shirt. (Who knew she owned something not a T-shirt?) It's a silky polyester, but thin and while it falls straight, it kind of floats. Even better, she's laughing.

  "Who's that?" a voice says in my ear and I jump.

  "Oh, hi, Peter. That's Andy. He sold us our shelves." I point through the front window and step away from Missus’ son, my once-good friend. Well, not too good, you understand. Just friends, really, just friends.

  He glances in the window and mimics my step so that he's back beside me. "Hey, we have to talk." He looks past me, like he's seeing who's around, then bends his head to me. "Unlock the door and we can step inside the store. Shannon's gone, right?"

  "I have to go home. I do. I have to go home." All these weeks I've flirted and played, and now here Peter is wanting me to be alone with him. But, no. "No, Peter, Jackson and I are good. We're good, real good."

  He touches my arm and licks his lips. "Okay, but we need to talk. You need…"

  "I need to go." I pull away and dart across the street to my van. My heart is racing, and my mouth is dry. In my car, I stop to take a breath. Darn, Chancey gossips let me down. I figured they would've informed Peter about me and Jackson. I chance a look out the side window and see him still standing where I left him. He raises his hands into the air and shrugs at me.

  Starting the car, my eyes stay straight ahead. Straight ahead to home. Where Jackson is.

  Chapter 4