Coming Home

Prologue

Logan Creek, Missouri – June 21, 1991

            Ducking behind a bale of hay, sixteen-year-old Paul Morgan peered around it. Looking for the other boys, he caught sight of his younger brother running past Leslie on his way to search the barn. Jared was the current finder. Seeing no one else, Paul ducked behind the bale again.

            Princess Leslie and her wildflower picking, Paul mused, his lips curving into a smile. The vision of Leslie’s slender frame graced with gentle curves lingered in his mind. For a long moment, he sat with his back against the hay bale, his heart pounding. Trying to shake it off, he got back on his knees and peered around the hay bale again. No one else in sight, he studied Leslie King as she continued her wildflower picking. Her bouquet consisted of purple coneflowers, daisies, black-eyed Susans, and Missouri primroses. As her long, slender hand reached for another daisy, he watched, mesmerized, and smiled at the recollection of his mother’s favorite “Little Paul” story.

~ ~ ~

            Paul first saw Leslie when he was only two years old. Awe poured over him and he said, “Momma! Is da baby a pwincess?”

            “No, Paul.” She chuckled and smiled at Leslie’s mother. “She sure is beautiful, though, isn’t she?”

            “She is bootiful! A bootiful pwincess baby!” He reached out and touched baby Leslie’s tiny hand. 

            His mother spoke in a gentle voice. “Her name is Leslie, sweet boy. Can you say Leslie?”

            “Pwincess Yesyie!” Leslie cooed at him and wrapped her tiny hand around Paul’s chubby fingers. “Wook, Momma! She yikes me! Pwincess Yesyie yikes me!” He bent his head and placed a reverent, though sloppy, kiss on Leslie’s cheek. Enthralled with this beautiful baby girl, he smiled from ear to ear.

~ ~ ~

            The vision of kissing Leslie’s cheek now flitted through Paul’s mind. His breath caught. Turning back away, he collapsed against the bale, allowing the prickly hay to bring him back to reality. He enhaled, forcing himself to breath normal. The sky was clear and blue. The sun shone bright, allowing its warmth to penetrate through the cool, gentle breeze. Paul took no notice at the moment. Instead, everywhere he looked, the vision of fourteen-year-old Leslie King picking wildflowers filled his mind. Princess Leslie.

            Shaking the vision loose, he realized he would be found soon if he didn’t get to his hiding place near the creek. He crept to the other edge of the hay bale, preparing to break into a sprint. A scream pierced the air and he froze. Leslie! He spun around in time to see Jared running wildly across the field and yelling. “Yellow jackets! Yellow jackets! Run, everybody! Run!”

            Paul glanced at Leslie who stood, rooted to the ground, her bouquet scattering in the wind as yellow jackets swarmed around her. She swatted in wild desperation as they left angry welts on her exposed flesh. 

            Paul’s pulse pounded in his ears, distorting all sound around him. He ran to her, glancing over his shoulder to calculate their distance to the creek. Every second counted. They were definitely closer to the creek than they were to the house. His feet felt like lead as seconds slipped away like minutes. Everything moved in slow motion. Finally reaching her, he scooped her up and ran for the creek. Leslie’s screams ceased as she gasped for breath. Fear sliced through him. He tightened his hold on her and ran harder. They were almost there. Save her! Please, God! Save he!

            Entering the copse of trees that lined the creek, he lowered Leslie to the bank with all the gentleness he could muster. She clawed the ground as if it were a lifeline. Paul reached for the ever present EpiPen that hung around her neck and, tamping down the rising panic, he prayed and injected it into her tender flesh. Leslie’s parents made sure long ago that everyone she knew was trained in how to use it.

            Waiting for the medicine to take effect, her took out his pocket knife and began flicking out the stingers one by one with the back of the blade. Thankful for all the Boy Scout training, he prayed while he worked. After what seemed like an eternity, her breathing grew less labored. Little by little, her lips began to lose their blueness, the wild look of terror receded from her eyes, and a look of serious concentration settled over her face. Even near death, she was the most beautiful girl he knew.

            Remembering a trick he had learned in physical education, he took gentle hold of her wrists and laid her arms above her head to help open her diaphragm and make it easier to breath. With a look of gratitude, she smiled before closing her eyes. She flinched as he scraped out the last stinger he could find and a muffled groan of pain escaped her lips. He went to work, rubbing mud on each sting. It cooled the stings and drew out the poison, or so his grandmother had told him once. An old wives tale, he didn’t know if it actually worked, but he would try anything in an attempt to ease her pain.

            After applying the mud, he stood and looked her over to make sure he hadn’t missed any stings. Though red and swollen splotches covered her, he was satisfied that she was going to be okay. Her breathing was deep and steady, though still wheezy. 

            The trauma of the moment hit him and he sank to the ground, his head bowed and a prayer of thanksgiving on his lips. A sudden need to cry hit him, but he tamped it down. He still had to get her back to her parents. Jared should have reached the house by now to tell her them about the yellow jackets. “Help me, Lord.” He opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. Without thinking, he leaned over her, his lips grazing her cheek in a tender, reverent kiss. Princess Leslie... 

            Her eyes fluttered open and he sat up. Her lips tipped in a timid smile. Had he said that out loud? 

“Thank you.” Her mouth formed the words, though no sound came out. 

He nodded and looked away. “Let’s get you back.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually called her “Princess.” Still too weak to walk, he scooped her up and started back toward the house – taking the long way around. They had both had enough yellow jackets for one day.

            Halfway there, he stepped out from the copse of trees that lined the bank and saw their families entering the field from the road. With long, quick strides, Leslie’s father traipsed ahead of the rest. Paul looked at her and searched her face. “You okay?”

She nodded and something he couldn’t define flickered in her eyes. His heart skipped a beat. Tenderness rolled through him in warm waves, spreading until a tender smile reached his lips. He pulled his gaze from hers to watch his step. She seemed to nestle closer and protectiveness surged through him. He gathered her closer to him and held her a little tighter. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he was walking on clouds.

            It only lasted for a moment, however. The franticness on everyone’s faces as they approached sent Paul’s adrenaline pumping again. His pounding pulse distorted all sound around him and slow motion returned. Before he had time to adjust, Leslie’s father reached out and snatched her from his arms. In a matter of moments, Leslie was next to her mother in the back seat of their car. 

            The car pulled away. Leslie turned and looked at Paul. Their eyes locked as they raised a hand in goodbye. The only words that passed between them were the words spoken with their eyes. Then, she was gone.

~ Linnette R. Mullin, Author

Fountain of Wishes, Part 4 ~ Tuesday Tale

~ Thanks to Bing.com

The dreamy look that had stolen into Chloe’s eyes as she sat reminiscing took Troy’s breath away.

She shrugged and tipped her lips in a smile. “I was just remembering the late night cram parties we used to have.” She giggled a little self-consciously and took a bite of her scone.

Troy’s heart thudded. “Oh?”

She nodded, but didn’t look up.

Maybe he shouldn’t press her, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “What about them?”

She shrugged and another soft giggle escaped her pretty lips. “You never wanted to admit to needing my help.” She raised twinkling eyes and pinned him with a knowing look. She scrunched her brows. “You’d always have this big scowl on your face when I’d walk in the room. ‘Chloe. Go home. Nobody else is here and I don’t want to give people something to talk about.’ And I’d plunk the food on the table and say, ‘Well, if nobody else is here, then there’s nobody to talk about it, is there?’ As soon as I pulled out your favorite burger, Chinese, or pizza pie the scowl would disappear. ‘Well. I guess a guys has to eat.’” A very feminine laugh escaped through her lips and a surge of adrenaline raced through him.

He chuckled. “Those were good times.” He sobered. Swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat, he lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “You didn’t say good bye.”

All humor vanished from her beautiful face and eyes. Troy felt like kicking himself. Yet, he wasn’t totally sorry he’d said it either. She hadn’t said good bye and the pain still knifed through his heart.

Her eyes glistened. “I’m sorry. I should have. Everything just happened so fast.”

“What did happen? I never got the story. Everyone seemed so hush-hush about it.”

“I begged Cassandra to keep quiet about it. I knew gossip would fly and the real truth would never be known anyway.” She shrugged. “Abuela` needed a full-time caretaker for an undetermined amount of time. I was the best candidate, so I came back.”

He studied her face and knew there was more to it. “Was that the real reason or an excuse?”

She flinched and pinned him with a glare. “There were other personal reasons, yes. If I wanted you to know, I would have told you.”

“Okay.” Not knowing what else to say, he tucked in to his blackberry cobbler and finished off his coffee. The silence that grew between them became painful and he was ready to see her home.

They stood without a word and stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Where to now?”

She shrugged. “I go this way. I believe your car is that way.”

Not a very subtle hint, but he chose to ignore it anyway. “Okay. Let’s go.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her up the street. She stiffened at first, but he didn’t pull away. She eventually relaxed and tossed him a sideways glance.

“I’m sorry. It’s a touchy subject with me. Please forgive me.”

The water glistening in her eyes stopped him in his tracks. He took gentle hold of her arm and turned her toward him. He tipped her chin up with the curve of his finger to see what emotion lurked in her eyes.

“Did it have anything to do with me?”

Her lips quivered and she tried to look away, but he took her face in his hands and wouldn't let her. “Just tell me.”

“Yes.” Her voice came out in a tortured whisper and his heart clenched.

“I’m sorry, Chloe.” He swallowed hard. “We don’t have to talk about this now, but I do want to talk about it. Soon. I came here…” He swallowed again. “I came here looking for you. I want to make things right between us. Whatever that means. Will you give me a chance to make things right?”

A single tear trailed down her cheek. She searched his eyes, the fear and vulnerability in them crushing his lungs. He swiped at the tear with the pad of his thumb and waited for her to speak.

She shrugged. “I guess. Maybe. I’m not sure I can.” Her lips trembled and all he wanted to do was taste their sweetness. Should he? He shouldn’t. But, maybe if he did, she would know he was sincere.

She pulled away before he could and started back up the side walk. He walked her to her door in silence. Before she escaped inside, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Cupping her face, he bore his gaze into hers. When she didn’t pull away, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a slow, tender kiss. He wanted to deepen it, but he gently pulled away instead.

“Good night, Chloe.”

She looked at him with half lidded eyes and he wanted to kiss her again, but he pulled away and she entered the house. She turned back just before closing the door.

“When will I see you again?”

She doubted him? The vulnerability in her eyes told him she did.

          "Soon, Chloe. Very soon."

          A smile trembled on her lips just before she closed the door.

Fountain of Wishes, Part 3 ~ Tuesday Tale

~ by Linnette R Mullin, All Rights Reserved

            The sudden rush of tears shocked Chloe. What was wrong with her? This whole thing felt so surreal and yet her heart squeezed until she could barely breathe. She searched Troy’s face and opened her mouth to say – what?

            “Would you join me for coffee? Ice-cream? Anything?” His eyes pleaded with her and her knees nearly buckled.

            She shrugged. “Sure. There’s a little café on the way to Abuela’s. They have coffee and ice-cream, as well as hot tea and pastries.” Self-consciousness crept through her. Maybe the dusk would hide her heated cheeks.

            He smiled, relief and excitement easing the tense lines around his eyes. “Great.” He offered his arm. “Lead the way, pretty lady.”

            Butterflies danced around her heart and she took hold of his arm. “This way.”

Silence fell between them as they crossed a couple of intersections. When they hit a long stretch of street, he pointed out different houses, enumerating the things he liked about each one. She smiled. An architect to the core.

“You were right about this being a fabulous place to live. I love it.”

She tipped her head and searched his face. “I do, too.”

His hand covered hers where it rested on his arm and he swung a smile her way. She could get used to this. But she shouldn’t. He had the power to break her heart. Again. Fear rippled through her. She must guard it, because this time around she might not survive.

A bell jingled, announcing their entrance. Always the gentleman, he pulled out a chair for her. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” She glanced up at him and the intensity of his smile shot shivers through her. After two years of absence, she should have become immune to him. Had she really not succeeded in extricating him from her heart?

“Evening folks. What’ll you have?”

He nodded at her. “I’ll have English Breakfast tea with a blueberry scone, please.”

“And for you, sir?”

“I’ll take a black coffee with blackberry cobbler ale mode, please.”

“Will that be all for you?”

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“That’s all for me, thanks.”

He nodded. “That’ll do it for now.”

“Alrighty. I’ll fix you two right up.” The waitress dashed off with a smile, leaving her alone with the man of her dreams. Only he didn’t know he was the man of her dreams. And she was determined to keep it that way.

“So. What have you been up to since you moved back?” He pinned her with a gaze that told her this conversation could get uncomfortable real fast.

She stammered. “Uh… Well… I’ve been taking care of Abuela mostly. I did get a job at a law firm as receptionist once she was well enough to leave alone for several hours.”

“I bet they love you.” His wistful unnerved her. She didn’t know what to make of that.

She shrugged. “I guess. They seem to appreciate me.”

Leaning with his forearms on the table, he turned his head to stare out the window for a long quiet moment. When he turned back, the emotional chaos in his eyes floored her.

He dropped his head and cleared his throat before raising tortured eyes to her again. “Nothing was the same after you left.”

She squirmed a bit, confusion clouding her mind.

“Melanie took your place.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Things were pretty chaotic for a while. She mixed up messages and sent clients to the wrong extensions. She finally worked out a system of her own, but there’s no more break-time chatting around the reception area. She couldn't focus with all the noise." He raised his eyebrows. “We’re actually using the break rooms for breaks now.”

She laughed. “Wow! That is something.”

“Here you go folks.” The waitress plunked down her tea and scone first and then his coffee and cobbler. She set a little cream pitcher between them and placed the sugar bowl next to it. “Anything else I can get for you?”

Troy looked at her with raised brows and she shook her head. “No, ma’am,” he said to the waitress. “Thank you.”

She smiled and said, “My pleasure,” before returning to the kitchen.

Troy reached for the cream and touched up his coffee while she doctored her tea. He didn't say anything and she didn't feel compelled to break the silence. They had always worked companionably together. Once or twice a month, he would have to stay late to finish up a project. Neither had planned for it to happen. They just sort of fell into a habit of it.

It all started when she was shutting down one night and noticed a light on down the hall. She had gone to turn it off and discovered him slaving away...

“Hey. Working late?”

“Yep. Gotta get this presentation finished by the 8:00 a.m. meeting with the new client in the morning. Just when I thought I was done, I noticed something that wouldn’t work and had to rearrange several things.”

She twisted the strap of her purses. “Wait. Have you been here all day?”

“Yep.”

“But…” She scrunched her brows. “I don’t remember seeing you pass through for lunch…”

He chuckled. “That’s because I haven’t had lunch.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll just have to fix that. I’ll be back.” She ran out to his favorite burger joint and brought back dinner for two. “Now. What can I do to help you get home earlier?”

He fidgeted at first and didn't seem comfortable to be alone with her. Somewhat new, she had yet to learn his policy on keeping business relationships strictly business. Of course, that's all this was anyway. Business. 

“Why don’t we eat first? I didn't realize my hunger until I smelled the food.”

“I think that’s wise.” She pulled everything out of the bags and set it up on the coffee table.

He looked everything over and glanced up at her in shock. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Remember people’s likes and dislikes. I've seen you do this with others. This is exactly what I would have ordered from The Grill.”

She shrugged, a little self-conscience. If he knew how much more she noticed his likes and dislikes, he’d probably consider her stalker-lady.

Once fed, they got to work and had the presentation finished up within a couple hours. “Wow, Chloe. You’re the best. I’d have been here ‘til ten or later working on this by myself.”

She shrugged away the compliment, praying he didn't see the blush creeping into her cheeks.

She never again let him work late alone and he never turned away her help. It was the only time he let his guard down even a smidgen with her and she cherished every moment. Especially after she had learned of his self-imposed rules on relationships in the work place. Oh, he would scowl at first. Every time. Yet, as soon as she pulled out the food, he would perk up and even welcome her help. 

“Earth to Chloe.”

“What? I’m sorry. My mind drifted.”

“I’d say. Where’d you go?”

She dropped her gaze to her scone, cut a bite, and shrugged. “Reminiscing.”

Troy tilted his head, curiosity shining in his eyes. “Care to share?”

Fountain of Wishes, Part 2 ~ Tuesday Tale

The Pineapple Fountain
by Just Watching the Wheels Go Round

          Troy reached the woman’s side in time to hear his name on her breath. Her wide eyes captivated him, green and wonderfully familiar.

“Chloe? Chloe Brown?" He searched her face. "Oh, wow!  It's you.” He reached out to take her in his arms, but opted for giving her upper arms a gentle squeeze.

She stood frozen, staring up at him with disbelief written across her face. So many emotions flitted through her gorgeous green eyes, he wasn't sure whether she was glad or horrified to see him.

He dropped his hands and stuffed them in his pockets all casual-like, but he didn't step away. “How are you?” He spoke in a soft intimate tone. Did she know how much he cared? Did she know the agony he'd endured since...

            “I… I’m okay.” A look of wonder began to dawn on her face. “How about you?”

            “I’m good.” I’m more than good now that I've found you, is what he wanted to say. “You look as amazing as ever.” He allowed his gaze to sweep over her.

            Her brows crinkled. “I do?” She glanced down as if she’d forgotten what she was wearing. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Was that accusation lacing her tone?

            He shrugged. “Like I said. You look amazing.” His fingers itched to trace her brow... trail down her cheek... run through her hair. He fisted them in his pocket and hoped she would get the message he intended his tone to send.

            She blushed. Her eyes flicked away. A sweet smile began to blossom when she nixed it by chewing on the corner of her lip. She always did that when she grew self-conscious around him. After two years, he still remembered every little nuance. They were forever branded on his heart.

            “So, what brings you to Charleston? Are you on vacation?” She spoke in a shy melodic voice – music to his ears.

            “No. I transferred here last month.”

            Her eyes grew wide again. “You did what?”

            He grinned. “I transferred here.” And I've been looking for you ever since.

            “Why?”

            He glanced away and watched the water spill over the edges of the Pineapple for a moment. “I put in for a transfer.” He jingled the coins in his pocket. “There was an opening at this branch and I put in for it.” His gaze collided with hers again and he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “And here I am.”

            “But… why?”

            He tipped the corner of his mouth in a teasing smile. “A little birdie once told me it’s the best place on earth to live.”

            A smile spread on her rosy lips, but she glanced away again. “Oh.”

            Silence settled between them and he waited for reality to settle in.

            She finally spoke. “Is that the only reason you moved? Here, I mean?”

            He hesitated. He’d longed for this day for two years – since the day she walked out of the office and never returned. She hadn’t even said good-bye.

            “It’s part of the reason, but not the whole.”

            “Oh.” Disappointment tinged her tone. “I see.”

            No, dear Chloe. I don’t think you do. There was nothing he wanted more than to take her sweet face in his hands, tell her how much he loved her… needed her, and would do whatever it took to get her back. But how could he when he’d never given her reason to believe he'd cared in the first place? He’d been a class A jerk. An ignoramus. A victim of his own pride.

            And if the tears she seemed to blink away were any indication, he wasn't the only one who'd paid the price.

Fountain of Wishes, Part 1 ~ Tuesday Tale

The Pineapple Fountain 
by Just Watching the Wheels Go Round

“Here, Chloe. Let me finish with the dishes. You take these coins down to the Pineapple Fountain and make your wish.”

            “Abuela! You know there is no such thing as luck. I’m not about to do such a thing.” Chloe scraped the plate clean and slipped it into the dishwasher.

            “Oh, come now, my little Niña. Give it a try. You never know what wonders God might do for you. Here. Give me that. You take the coins down to the fountain and make your wishes known to God.”

            Now staring into the fountain, Chloe smiled and shook her head. There was no resisting her grandmother once she got something into her head. She opened her hand and studied the coin in her palm. 

“So, what do you say, God? Am I meant to stay single the rest of my life or what?”

Troy’s face flashed through her mind, but she forced it away. She never stood a chance with him, so why continue to agonize?

Lord, I really do want your will for my life. Even if that means staying single. I just can’t take this not knowing. I need to move on with my life. She closed her fist around the coin. Okay. I can’t believe I’m even considering this, but… She raised her hand –

“Ouch!” Something struck her leg. She looked down as the water rippled after a plop. “What on earth?” She glanced up and around the fountain to find a man skirting the fountain.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I didn't mean to toss it so hard. Did I hurt you?”

A man strode toward her. She couldn't make out his face in the dark with only the fountain lights to flit across his face. But that voice…

He stopped in front of her, his brows furrowed in worry. 

“Troy?” 

She tightened her fist. The coin dug in, assuring her she hadn't tossed it. 

“Wh-what… How?” 

Her gaze skittered around the fountain's courtyard, then swept back to the man peering at her in disbelief.

“Chloe? Is it really you?”

The New Guy Part 5 ~ A Tuesday Tale

Randy Chauvin's smile faded. “I really do want to get to know you, Crystal. If you’ll let me.”

Crystal Robinson's heart flipped and she began to tremble. She stared at him in disbelief for a long moment. Was this guy for real? 

She finally shrugged and turned toward the Ice Cream Parlor door. "Sure." 

She reached for the door just as it swung away. Randy managed to hold it open and still allow her to exit first. Butterflies danced in her chest and she floated along beside him. Surely this was all a dream.

"Thanks for sharing your table with me. Again."

She stopped at her car and turned to lean against it. "You're always welcome at my table, New Guy." She grinned up at him and his answering smile melted more of her reserve.

"New Guy, huh?" He chuckled and shook his head. "So, that's how you've been thinking of me."

"Pretty much." No way would she tell him what she really thought.

He rubbed the side of his head, bewilderment written on his face. "Well. Okay."

She laughed out loud and covered her mouth. "I'm sorry." She cocked a shoulder. "I inherited an ornery streak from my mom. Sometimes I can't help myself."

He reached out and tugged one of her rebellious strands of hair before tucking it behind her ear. "Thanks for the warning."

Her breath caught at the answering glint in his eyes. Maybe he was for real after all.

His phone beeped and he glanced at it with a sigh. "Mom calls. I better run." He took a half step back. "Save me a seat at lunch tomorrow?

She snorted. "As if I'll have to save it. But, yeah. If your seat needs saving, I'll see to it."

He hesitated for a moment, something she couldn't define swirling in his eyes. "Cool. I'll see you then."

"See you then."

He walked away and she let out a shaky breath. Lunch tomorrow. Maybe her mom was right? Maybe it was time to add a few new things to the ole wardrobe. Something besides ragged jeans and t-shirts.

Randy backed out of his parking spot and waved before pulling away. She groaned. Yep. Definitely time for a little shopping.

The New Guy, Part 4 ~ A Tuesday Tale

"How cool is that?" Randy Chauvin’s eyes danced with excitement that sent a zing straight through Crystal Robinson.

How cool, indeed! Who'd have thunk? "Which church service do you guys attend?" she asked.

"It varies with Mom and Dad in the choir. Most of the time we attend first, though."

Unexpected disappointment shifted through her. "Oh."

~ from Bing

 "You go to second?"

"Yep."

"I'll look for you when we're at the second service, then. I mean, if you're okay with that."

Noting the eager trepidation in his eyes, her lungs froze. "Sure." Was he serious? No way was this guy interested in her! Nobody was ever interested in her. Not unless you count the weird creepers who tended to always find her.

He nodded. "Cool."

They sipped on their milkshakes in silence for the next few minutes. Little by little the Ice Cream Parlor emptied until there were only about half a dozen tables occupied. Several guys threw a ‘hey’ or a fist-bump Randy’s way. Plenty of girls cast a flirty smile or a quirk of the brow, but he seemed oblivious to them. Everyone ignored her, of course. But that was nothing new.

“So where are you headed after this?”

She startled at the unexpected question and nearly choked on her milkshake.

“Sorry about that.” He leaned forward and reached across the table as if to help, but stopped short as if he didn't quite know what to do.

She shook her head, trying to tell him it was okay.

He finally grabbed a napkin and wiped the dribble off her chin. “I really am sorry. You don't have to answer that. It’s none of my business.”

When she could speak, she said, “No-no. It's no problem. You just startled me, that's all.”

~ From Bing

He grinned. “What? Not used to anyone talking to you?”

Her eyes grew wide and she slumped in her chair. “Is it so painfully obvious?”

He laughed. “Nah. Don’t worry. It’s not that. It's just... You’re an outsider. It doesn't matter that you went to school here last year.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing personal. It's just the way it is.”

She glanced away played at collecting her mess. He was preaching to the choir on that score, but that didn't make the pain of rejection any easier to take.

“Mind if I walk you to your car?”

She crossed the room with him right behind her, popped her trash in the receptacle, and turned to face him. “You don’t have to play nice, Randy. It's okay. Really. I’m sure you’d rather go catch up to your buddies.”

His smile faded. “Actually, I really do want to get to know you. If you’ll let me.”

She stared at him in disbelief. Was this guy for real?

The New Guy, Part 3 ~ A Tuesday Tale

She cringed. Face-palm! Why'd she have to go and say that? Now he'll think I'm a dweeb the same as everybody else.

~ By Linnette R Mullin. All rights reserved.

His smile doubled in wattage. "I bet. What do you do when you're overseas? Do you go to a chapel on base or find a church in town?"

She shrugged, a little wary of the smile. "Sometimes we'll go to the chapel. Sometimes we'll go to an English speaking mission church in the area." Seemed everywhere she went others teased about going to church.

"What about here? Have you found a good home church here?"

She stopped and studied him for a moment. Was he really interested in church? Could he be... She gave herself a mental shake and said, "We found a church downtown we absolutely love. Didn't take dad long to decide to join. We've been here just over a year, now, so we're pretty at home there."

"Really? Which one? I go to the big pink church downtown."

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "That's it! That's the one!"

"No way! Are you serious?"

"Oh my gosh, yes! We go to the same church."

"How cool is that?" His eyes danced with excitement that sent a zing straight through her.

How cool, indeed! Who'd have thunk?

The New Guy, Part 2 ~ A Tuesday Tale

He scoped out the room. "Man, this place is buzzin'. Mind if I join you?"

"What?" She straightened in her chair. "Um... Sure. I mean, no. Of course I don't mind."

"Cool. Thanks."

~ from Bing

He eased his lanky athletic build into the seat across from her and the volume in the room dipped. She felt all eyes on them, but hunky Randy didn't seem to notice. He took a long swig of his malt as his eyes searched hers.

Her gaze locked on his, she ignored the stares and whispers.

He pulled away from the straw, swiped his hand across his lips, and tipped his cup her way. "So, what'd you get?"

She swallowed, hoping her the words wouldn't stick in her throat. "Pineapple malt. You?"

"Double chocolate. My favorite. This place makes the best malts, don't they?"

"Mm... they do." She managed to bob her head. The volume swelled again and the tension in her shoulders eased. "So, where'd you move from?"

His eyes darted around the room. "I grew up around here."

She wrinkled her nose. "Really?"

"Yep."

She must have looked totally confused because he laughed and said, "Why am I the new guy?"

"Yes."

"I home-schooled up until this year."

~ at Bing

"Really? That's cool. There's a lot of home-schoolers in the  military. I always kind of envied them. Moving around. Changing schools all the time." She shrugged and took another drink of her malt. Was this really her rattling on as if talking to a hunky guy was an everyday occurrence? She couldn't seem to stop herself. Must be nerves. "This is one of the few things that never changes for me. I can always find a good pineapple malt."

He smiled. "That's good. So how many places have you lived?"

"This would be number ten."

"What? You've moved ten times?"

She shrugged. "That's military life for you. We've lived in some pretty cool places, though. The hardest part is finding a good church."

She cringed. Face-palm! Why'd she have to go and say that? Now he'll think I'm a dweeb the same as everybody else.

The New Guy, Part 1 ~ A Tuesday Tale

Crystal stared into the cup and stirred her malt. Every Ice Cream Parlor table overflowed with teens. Every table but hers. She sat alone. The story of her life. Laughter and guffaws buzzed around her. Pain slashed through her heart, but she ignored it and let her mind float back to lunch.

~ at Bing

The new hunk in school. He actually sat with her. Wow!

Her eyes slid shut as she took a long pull on her malt.

Yes, Randy Chauvin sat with her. Her! Crystal Robinson.  Not only that, but he talked to her. Talked. To her.

Her heart fluttered.

"Hey, Crystal."

Her eyes popped open at the sound of his smooth baritone voice. She gaped. Twice in one day? And he remembered her name? She had to be dreaming.

He scoped out the room. "Man, this place is buzzin'. Mind if I join you?"

A Tuesday Tale

I'm really excited to announce the coming of "A Tuesday Tale". Every Tuesday, I'll post a snippet of a story. It will be short and sweet and hopefully a real treat.

The first serial story is a young adult story about a girl named Crystal who meets "The New Guy" named Troy. Will this be like every other place she's lived or does God have something different in mind for her this time? Only one way to find out.

See you on Tuesday!

Java for a Kiss

            Irritation heightened Jason Matthews’ edginess. “Will the dude ever come in and actually buy something?” One by one, he placed the clean mugs on the shelf. “This is a Java joint, not a freaking library.”

            “You could ask him to leave.” Maggie Storey gave him a pointed look. For someone who worked at his coffee shop less than six months, she got away with spouting off in ways his veteran employees wouldn’t dream of. She’d shocked him with her uninhibited banter that first day. Now, he fought a grin forcing its way onto his normally scowling face.

He liked her spunk.

It didn’t hurt that she was a cute little thing, either - relatively speaking, of course. She would be considered tall and full figured to most, but for a man who had to duck and practically turn sideways to get through doorways, she was tiny.

            “You know I can’t do that. It might make my real customers uncomfortable and leave.”

“As if your scowls and growls alone couldn’t do that,” she said with a teasing lilt.

He huffed. “Tell me something, Miss Maggie. Why do you think the guy is always here, but never buys anything?”

            She continued checking the syrup levels and wiping down the bottles, glancing at the mystery man from time to time. Jason could see the thoughtful concentration on her round, rosy face and wondered for the zillionth time if her skin was as petal soft as it looked.

Remembering her comment about being fat, he let his gaze slide over her silhouette. She was no stick figure, for sure. Still, he didn’t think her overweight. In fact, whatever extra pounds she imagined she carried gave her a soft, appealing look. Visions of cuddling by a blazing fireplace filled his mind. Deciding she wouldn’t appreciate his line of thought, he forced his gaze back to her face and dissolved the images.

            She shrugged. “Maybe he wants to find a quiet place to work without interruption.”

            Interesting. “Why do you think that?”

            “Well, he always brings his laptop. He never has anyone with him. He turns his cell phone off when he arrives and turns it on when he leaves. He has permanent stress creases in his brow and he comes on schedule – same time, every week day, and always in a suit.”

            “Hmm…”

            “You know what else I think?”

            He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

            “I think you should offer him a complimentary cup of coffee. Who knows? He might become your most loyal paying customer.”

            Jason scoffed at the idea, and felt the sting of Maggie’s disappointed face. When she went to the back in search of Hazelnut syrup, he huffed and stepped over to the stranger.

“Can I get you a cup of Java? It’s on the house today.”

            The man looked up and Jason watched his face transform in seconds from disgruntled to bewilderment to relief. “That would be great, actually. I don’t mind paying for it. I always intend to buy a cup when I come, but I’m so swamped my time here flies and before I know it I’m leaving without.

            “What’s your pleasure today?”

            “I’ll take a French Vanilla Cappuccino, please. Here’s my card.”

            He prepared and delivered the whipped cream topped mug and handed back the card. “Like I said, it’s on the house today.”

            The man looked at him in surprise and thanked him. “You just won yourself a loyal customer.”

            The sappy smile on Maggie’s face tripped his heart and more than paid for the guy’s free java. Especially when she tapped his chest, looked up at him with glowing eyes and said, “I knew there was a heart of gold hidden under all that gruffness.”

Yes, sir! He wanted to drag her into the back room and taste those sweet, rosy lips. Instead, he took her hand and gave a gentle squeeze before he winked and turned to an approaching customer.

            When Maggie’s shift ended, Jason followed her to the back door to thank her. It wasn’t until the door closed behind her and he tingled with awareness that he realized she had stood on tiptoe, pulled his face to hers and given him a sweet, if brief, “you’re welcome” kiss.

            A smile split his face as he walked back out to the counter. Cameron, the next shift employee, looked at him with wariness, but Jason winked and grinned bigger. Visions of Maggie filled his head as he plotted ways to earn more of her sweet kisses.

~ written by Linnette R Mullin

"The Inconvenient Marriage of Charlotte Beck" by Kathleen Y'Barbo

Charlotte Beck is an incorrigible little gal, yet you can’t help but love her. She’s always getting herself into messes and from the moment she steps out into society Alex Hambly has the unfortunate responsibility of getting her out of trouble. While Alex would much rather bury himself in astronomy, he’s too much of a gentleman to say no to Charlotte’s pleas. Of course, she does make very enticing promises – nothing untoward, mind you. If you must know, you’ll have to read the book. ;-)

This is a great story illustrating that love is not maximum emotion, but rather maximum commitment.

The only complaints I have are: 1) Kathleen wasn’t clear enough throughout the book about the internal issues driving Charlotte’s decision making. Nor did she make clear the issues surrounding her mother in the end. That part of the story was confusing.

Regardless, “The Inconvenient Marriage of Charlotte Beck” is a highly entertaining story written in a unique voice and I enjoyed it.


The Inconvenient Marriage of Charlotte Beck (Chapter 1 Excerpt)

Please click below to rank my review. Thanks!

This book was provided to me free of charge from Water Brook Multnomah for their Blogging for Books program.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not...

            Tina Shultz swiped her bangs out of her eyes and sighed. The only full-time employee of the local historical society found herself short-handed once again.

            After climbing down the ladder, she refilled her paint pan, wishing for even one able-bodied helper. Hearing a low whistle, she glanced at the doorway. Jackson Pearce appeared ruggedly handsome and ready to work in ratty jeans, paint-stained t-shirt, and old cowboy boots.

Her breath hitched in her chest.

“Hey, Beautiful! How’s it going?”

“Hello, Jackson,” she said, praying she didn’t instigate his teasing by landing her face in the paint. Turning abruptly to scale the ladder nearly upset the pan. She breathed a sigh of relief and climbed up to secure it.

“Where would you like me to start?”

Frowning, she waved her hand around. “Take your pick. The whole place needs painting.”

            “Grumpy today, are we? Too little sleep and even less help?”

“Something like that.”
            “Careful. Your foot is inching its way to the edge of the step. I’d rather you not fall and break your pretty neck.”

Feeling a blush coming on, she faced the wall and started painting again. “Don’t know why that would bother you. It’d only give you teasing ammo.” Mortified that she had spoken the words aloud, she grappled for something else to say. “Why are you here, anyway? Brad said you guys were going fishing.”

            “Tina. You’ve only known me, what? Your whole life? Surely you realize by now that I only tease people I care about.”

“In that case, I must be your favorite person.”

“And I cancelled my fishing trip when I heard my favorite person was painting the old school house today. Thought you might need a hand.”

            Tina looked down to find rare sincerity written on his face and it unnerved her. This was not a side of Jackson Pearce she was used to. Did he really care about her? An ache tugged at her heart.

            “I’ll get a roller and join you.” Equipment in hand, he began painting the bottom portion of the wall in silence.

Tina let her memories rewind.

Jackson had always had a knack for making corny jokes out of her clumsy mishaps. She just thought he was getting laughs at her expense, but now she realized nobody else ever remembered the source of his humor. They only remembered his goofiness. Had he purposely drawn attention to himself to lessen her embarrassment?

            Glancing down at him, warmth curled around her heart.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head and, smiling, she worked the paint-roller leftward.

            Drip.

            Jackson’s arm froze in mid-stroke when the paint hit the side of his head and drizzled into his ear.

            Tina giggled. “Oops. Sorry.”

            When he looked up at her, she saw both amusement and challenge in his eyes.

Wagging his roller, he said, “So, you want to play?”

            Her eyes rounded. “What? Oh, come on, Jack. You know how clumsy I am.”

            “Clumsy? Yes! But that was a bit too precise to be clumsiness. Now, you’re going to pay.”

Dropping off the ladder, she squealed and ran across the room only to realize she was now cornered. The table blocked her exit. Suddenly, he lunged. She dodged too late and cold, gooey paint slid down her cheek.

            “Gotcha!”

“You turkey!” Tina swiped at her face, making the smudge worse. She wanted to be angry with him. She really did. But a giggle slipped out and before she knew it they were both howling with laughter.

Finally, Jackson set the roller on the table, pulled a clean rag from his back pocket and, dabbing the paint off her face, spoke softly, “You know, you’re awfully cute when you’re playful. Does this mean you’ve decided to like me?”

Tina studied his face. Touched by the tenderness and vulnerability she saw, she decided to be honest. “It’s not a matter of liking you or not, Jack. I thought…You always joke about my… mishaps… I thought you enjoyed having fun at my expense.”

Tucking the rag in his back pocket, he cradled her face. “Tina, I would never do that to you. I never ever meant to hurt you. Forgive me,” he said and, lowering his face to hers, gave her the sweetest of kisses.

Melting, she returned his kiss, absorbing the tenderness of his touch. 

Pulling away, he said, “Now. That’s more like it.”

Searching his eyes for laughter, she found sincerity and longing.

“Why-why’d you do that?” She sounded breathless even to her own ears.

“Because I don’t want you to doubt ever again how special you are to me.”

Hope filled her heart, threatening to burst its seams. She gave him a crooked smile and said, “I think you just might have succeeded.”

~Written by Linnette R Mullin

~All rights reserved.