Finding His Way Home. Barbara Gale

Finding His Way Home - Barbara  Gale


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      Having spent a truly uncomfortable night on Valetta’s couch, Lincoln thought his effort at civility the next morning, as he sat at Valetta’s kitchen table, was commendable. He just wished she thought so. Busy at the stove scrambling eggs, her muffled agreement was almost inaudible. He was undeterred. Awaiting his breakfast, he thought hard and fast, determined to break through her wall.

      “And so many candles! What an old lady you are,” he teased. “Thirty, was it? Good grief, where does the time go?”

      The sour look Valetta sent Linc only made him smile. “And Castor and Pollux—I mean, your friends, Ben and Andy—they seem like nice young men. And that Patty, I’ll bet she’s a real ball of fire.”

      “Hmm.” Valetta ignored him for the flurried entrance of her daughter accompanied by her yellow dog and two black cats Linc hadn’t noticed until that moment. Someone here likes animals, Lincoln thought, smiling at the birdcage tucked safely in the corner of the kitchen.

      “Here’s your lunch box, Mellie,” he heard Valetta say as Mellie mumbled a sleepy good morning. “And here are your eggs. Toast is coming up in one minute.”

      Reaching for the salt shaker, Mellie glowered.

      “Good morning,” Lincoln greeted the little girl’s chary stare. He guessed he would have felt the same way. It was one thing to meet and greet a stranger in a restaurant, but when said stranger turned up at your kitchen table the next morning…

      Her first words proved him right. “How long are you staying?”

      A good question. “A day or two, at most. I have business to discuss with your mother.”

      “Don’t you like it here?” Mellie asked, switching gears abruptly.

      “I do like it here, very much. It’s very pretty, what little I’ve seen of Longacre. But I miss my own home, and my job, and they’re both back in California. Have you ever been—”

      “And guess what? I have one, too,” Valetta said as she set a plate of toast on the table with a sharp clatter. She would not have Linc prying into their lives. Just because she was polite enough to offer him a place to stay did not give him special rights. “So enough talk. Pay attention to your breakfast, Mellie. You still have your chores to attend to, don’t forget. I’ll go get my things, and while I’m at it,” she added, sending Lincoln a heated look, “I’ll try to figure out a good time for us to talk.”

      “Chores?” Lincoln repeated as he watched Valetta leave the kitchen.

      Mellie’s face was a picture of long-suffering. “Change the cat water, fill their bowls with dry food, and refill the birdseed cup.”

      Lincoln glanced at the menagerie waiting patiently for their mistress. “May I help?”

      “Better not,” Mellie said, as she munched her toast. “Mom might get mad. She has this thing about being responsible.” Finishing her toast, Mellie pushed back her chair and dashed to the cupboard where a big bag of cat kibble was stored, next to an even bigger bag of dog food. Carefully, she filled the animal bowls and put away the bags. Just as carefully, she scraped her plate and stored it in the dishwasher. That done, she solemnly informed Lincoln that she had to brush her teeth. Lincoln nodded into the air because she was already gone, passing her mother in the hall.

      “Well, Linc,” Valetta said, returning with her coat, “how are you going to spend the day? You’re welcome to stay here, of course,” she added, halfheartedly.

      Your enthusiasm is overwhelming, Lincoln thought, amused at the uncertainty in her voice. “Alexis told me a little about your newspaper—she’s very proud of your accomplishment. I would like to be able to tell her about it, firsthand….” If Valetta didn’t believe him—and she didn’t look as though she did—a little honey might go further than the vinegar of truth. “I’d love to get a close-up look for my own sake, too. If you didn’t mind, of course.”

      Valetta most certainly did mind! No way was she going to spend the day with Lincoln Cameron peering over her shoulder. “Um…not a good idea,” she said quickly. “Your big name…you would probably make everyone nervous,” she added lamely.

      Mostly you, Lincoln guessed. “You know, of course, that I am supremely qualified to help out.”

      “Too qualified,” Valetta said, sending him a curious smile.

      Linc shrugged. “It is what I do. You can’t fault me for that.”

      “Your first love, your only love, I remember you used to say. Are you married, Linc? I didn’t even think to ask. A wife and kids in your life?”

      “Unmarried, no kids,” Lincoln said briskly.

      For the first time since Lincoln had arrived in Longacre, Valetta sensed a trace of discomfort in his voice. Even his smile seemed a bit forced, sort of lopsided. The look on his face suggested that she was now prying, so she did not press the issue.

      “Linc, obviously I can’t speak to you now. I have to get Mellie off to school, and then I must get to work. I have a deadline to meet. Let’s plan to sit down this evening, after Mellie has gone to bed. Well, after dinner, her homework, a quick game of Scrabble and her bubble bath.” She smiled helplessly. “Last night…my birthday party… Sorry, but we’re a bit off schedule. If I had known you were coming…”

      “Don’t worry, if I have to stay the extra day or two, it’s no big deal.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of holding you up.”

      Lincoln smiled. After years surrounded by sycophants, Valetta’s honesty was refreshing. Why then, did he feel sad? “I get the picture, Vallie.” He grew sadder still, when she winced at his use of her old nickname. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

      “I never doubted it.” Her reply came hard on the heels of Mellie’s return, her coat buttoned unevenly, her hat crooked, her red scarf trailing on the floor. A little girl in definite need of help. “Oh, Mellie!”

      “Allow me,” Lincoln offered, surprising them both. Kneeling before Mellie, he made short shrift of the coat buttons, straightened her hat and knotted her scarf. Rocking back on his heels, he noticed Valetta staring. “For goodness sake, Vallie, I do know how to button a coat!”

      Her throat dry, Valetta nodded. Feeling mischievous, Lincoln strolled to her side, took hold of her parka and politely held it up. But when he tried to do up her buttons, Valetta quickly stepped back. “Thanks,” she smiled drily, “but I’m pretty sure I can manage.”

      Lincoln opened the front door with a smile of his own. “Have a good day, then, ladies. I’ll be waiting here when you get home.”

      Valetta followed Mellie out into the snow and climbed into her battered truck, wondering what had just happened. But her wayward thoughts were forgotten listening to her truck screech as she tried to start it up. She had to turn it over three times before the engine caught, and then she had to warm it up a full five minutes before she dared to drive. Disgusted, she made a mental note to check out the automotive ads in next Sunday’s paper. Enough was enough! The last time she had needed a car, Jack had materialized with this monster, but she always thought she would like to own something a little more mommy friendly and less of a gas guzzler, perhaps a Honda CRV. And while she was at it, she might even treat herself to a paved driveway, next summer. One you could really shovel clean in winter and that didn’t boast rivulets of mud when the April sun finally melted the snow.

      Listening to Mellie chatter as they drove into town, Valetta’s list grew. Okay, so maybe it was time to get in a plumber to fix that leaky shower. And while she was at it, perhaps she should get Rico Suarez to finish painting the living room. As for that layer of dust…

      Hey,


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