A Boy To Remember. Cynthia Thomason
start today.”
Jude munched on the dry toast, alternating taking a bite for herself and offering bits to Mutt. “She excited?”
“She is. I think this activity is going to be great for her.” Minus the fact that she might be working with her biological father. “And just exactly why are you interested in my trip to Greenfield? I need a few things at the drugstore, so I shouldn’t be long.”
Dusting crumbs from her hands onto the table, Jude reached into her back jeans pocket. “I thought maybe you could pick up some stuff for me at the hardware store.”
No way. The only hardware store close by was Chandler’s, owned for years by Daniel’s father, Gus. Alex intended to steer clear of that location. Not that the junior state senator would be there, but why take the chance?
“I don’t know anything about hardware, Jude,” Alex said. “I live in a maintained condo in the middle of Chicago. I’ve never fixed so much as a loose lightbulb.”
“You don’t have to know in order to buy,” Jude said. “Just show the list to Gus, and he’ll gather everything. Anyway, it’s just a slide bolt for the hay bin, some pegs for the board in the tack room, a galvanized bucket...”
“Whoa. This sounds confusing.”
“No, it doesn’t. Why are you acting like stopping at Chandler’s is such a big deal?”
Jude’s ability to see through any ploy had often been irritating, but never more so than this morning. Jude had a sixth sense for sniffing out the truth, and she was right. Going to a hardware store shouldn’t be a big deal. Unless a woman’s old boyfriend, one who barely remembered her and was the key to a life-altering secret, might happen to be there.
Alex couldn’t think of a reason to avoid Jude’s errand. Besides, rehearsals started this morning. Daniel had said he wanted to coach, so if he was anywhere close, he’d be at the theater. And even if he wasn’t, what were the chances he’d be at the store? Didn’t he have civic duties to perform?
“Fine. Give me your list,” she said.
“You’ll be back by 2:30, won’t you?”
“Sure, but why?”
“I have to pick Wesley up at the bus stop, and I want to be at the barn when you come by. Thought you might like to see some of the improvements I’ve made to the property.”
“I would. Lizzie enjoyed her tour yesterday, and she’s even less of a horse person than I am.”
Jude stood suddenly. “Gotta go. Got a dozen goats waiting for breakfast.” She left by the back door, trailed by a tail-wagging Mutt, and hollered over her shoulder. “Thanks, Allie-belle!”
Alex smiled. Despite the tension of knowing Daniel was nearby, coming home had its advantages. Like being with her mother and father, and hearing the nickname she’d almost forgotten in the past few years. The Foster sisters were a tight group, each different from the other, yet loving in her own way. Alex missed Carrie. They talked two or three times a week, but even so, her absence felt as if a piece of the puzzle was missing.
“Mom, I’m ready!” Lizzie came into the kitchen, her backpack over her shoulder, the script she’d been studying in her hand, and her dark hair fastened into two braids. “It’s 8:30. I don’t want to be late.”
“Let’s go, then.”
The drive on the rural road to the Red Barn was peaceful. A few farm trucks gave a pastoral feel to the mix of BMWs and other classy cars of Fox Creek neighbors. On the way, Lizzie went over her lines. “I don’t have that big a part, but I want to do a good job. This is my first real acting gig.”
“And your last before you head off to Bryn Mawr,” Alex said. The two women had carefully considered all the top schools in the east where Lizzie could study literature, and they’d decided on the all-female Pennsylvania college. At first Lizzie had protested the absence of men, but when she discovered she could take classes at the University of Pennsylvania, which was coed, she readily accepted Bryn Mawr’s offer.
“I wonder if Daniel Chandler will be here today,” Lizzie said as they approached the theater. “I hope he is.”
Alex took a deep breath. “I don’t know, honey. He didn’t sound as if he’d be terribly involved when I talked to him.”
“He’s really good-looking, isn’t he?”
“Ah...” What would be the point of denying what was so obviously true. “I suppose.”
“Did you notice his arms and hands? He has lots of muscles for a guy who normally wears a suit.”
Alex didn’t answer, but she definitely remembered those strong, athletic arms.
“I mentioned him to Grandpa, and he told me that Daniel was elected to the state senate two years ago. He’s really popular with everyone in this district. Grandpa voted for him.”
“I would imagine that he’s kept busy with his duties. I wouldn’t count on seeing too much of him at the theater.”
Lizzie sighed with a typical teenage dreaminess. “He’d make a hunky Henry Hill, don’t you think?”
Determined not to focus on the fact that Lizzie was talking so openly about her father, Alex made light of the question. “I’m sure a state senator doesn’t have time to be the lead in a small-town summer production.”
“You’re probably right.”
They pulled into the lot and got out of the car. Lizzie entered the theater first and went right to the stage, where Glen and several other people were milling about. Thank goodness Daniel wasn’t one of them.
“Hey there, Zaneeta!” Glen called. “Now we’re all here for the first day’s rehearsal.” He smiled at Alex. “You want to stay, Alex? I’m sure we can put you to work.”
She laughed. “I’ve already been given an assignment from my sister. I’m on my way into Greenfield.”
“Okay. We’ll probably wrap up around three. But I’ll have Lizzie call you.”
Glen was introducing Lizzie to the other cast members as Alex left the theater. Okay, so their first meeting was just a temporary snag. Chances were, Lizzie wouldn’t see much of Daniel for the rest of the summer. And Alex wouldn’t, either. Crisis averted.
Once she’d finished paying for her purchases at the drugstore, Alex drove down Main Street to Chandler’s Hardware. She’d run in, hand the list to Gus and be out in five minutes, tops. She angle-parked in front of the century-old brick building and went inside. Familiar smells made her remember trips to this store with her dad when she was a very little girl, before her studies kept her busy. The scent of freshly cut lumber, the rusty tang of old nails, the smell of tanned leather. All good memories, until she met the owner’s son and hadn’t returned since.
Gus Chandler was behind the cash register. His gray hair was thinner than she remembered, and his skin had the pallor of an Ohio winter. But in his flannel shirt, loose-fitting denim pants and carpenter’s apron, he looked as if he was dressed for a business he loved. There was something comforting about the perseverance of small-town icons. They stuck it out, didn’t cut and run, like she had.
Gus gave her a welcoming grin. “Well, well...look who’s here. I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”
“It has been a while. You’re looking good, Mr. Chandler.”
“You, too. Pretty as I remember. My son told me he ran into you the other day. Said you lost your husband.”
Alex nodded. Daniel had mentioned her to his father?
“Sad thing, that,” Gus said. “You’re too young to be a widow.”
Alex handed him Jude’s list. “My sister needs some things at the barn. Since I don’t know