Look Always Forward (Bellingwood Book 11) (6 page)

She walked out the front door and wandered through the garden on the corner, stopping to listen to the burbling of the water in the pond. There were no people there today, but it was a popular spot for people on their evening walks. She crossed the highway to head up town and realized that Alistair Greyson was in front of her. He was dressed in jeans, a white linen shirt, had a straw hat on his head, and was using his walking stick.

"Mr. Greyson," she called out.

He stopped and turned, bursting into a huge smile. "Why, Miss Polly Giller. What are you doing out today?"

She walked faster to catch up to him. "I'm going to the coffee shop to put their new employees to the test. They aren't open yet, but the kids need practice. Would you like to join me?"

"That would be lovely." He bent his arm for her to take it and said, "And call me Grey. Everyone does. Mr. Greyson is much too formal, don't you think?"

"Grey it is," she responded. "Jeff tells me that you are moving into the apartment at the inn and will be managing the place for us. Thank you for doing that."

He touched the edge of his hat and tipped his head to a woman they passed and said, "I understand that it was upon your recommendation he extended the offer. What a splendid idea you had. Just when I was beginning to wonder what this great, big wonderful world had for me to do next, all of a sudden there you are. Has anyone ever told you that you have a special connection with the movements of the universe?"

She looked at him sideways and realized he was sincere. "I've heard something similar to that in the past, but not put into those words."

"Hey old man," a high school age kid said. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that this look is out?" Two of his friends joined him and cut Polly and Grey off before they could cross the street.

"Young men," Grey said. "You are obstructing our passage. Please move aside."

"Move aside? Who do you think you are? We were here first," the first kid said.

"Are you kidding me?" Polly asked. "This is ridiculous." She started to step forward and one of the other boys blocked her. She stepped in and got up in his face. "Back away and let us through. I may not know who you are, but once I find out, I can make your lives miserable. Now grow up and back off."

"You might think you're a big shot, but everybody knows you're nothing." The first kid spat on the ground in front of her and crowded the other out of her way. He stepped in front of her, trying to intimidate her. He wasn't much bigger than Jason, but it was enough.

Polly refused to give way. She stared at the kid, holding eye contact with him until he broke it. But then he tried to move in even closer. In a flash, though, he was on the ground. She looked around in surprise. Grey had used the walking stick to sweep the boy's legs out from under him. The other two stared in stunned silence, while Grey remained cool and calm. The only thing that betrayed his anger was the flash in his eyes.

He tipped his hat at them and said, "Your deportment is severely lacking, young men. You never treat a lady in that manner." Grey took Polly's arm and guided her around the three boys and across the street.

"That was a smooth move," Polly said, her voice cracking as she worked to regain her composure.

He chuckled. "That, my dear, was from a former life. In fact, the life in which I damaged my poor, blighted knee. I'm afraid those young gentlemen thought I was easy prey, but mayhap they learned a lesson this afternoon."

"I don't know what made them think they could get pushy like that," she replied, opening the door to the coffee shop. She stopped to take a breath. The baristas had been practicing, the wonderful scent of brewed coffee filled her senses.

"The product of too much time on their hands, fears of returning to school soon, and confidence that they had safety in numbers. I'm a stranger in town..." He gestured down at himself. "And might I say I'm like none they've ever met before."

"That's just not right, though," she said "It isn't as if Bellingwood is a bastion of white middle-class..." Then Polly chuckled. "Actually, I guess it is. I do my best to bring color and interest and some people want nothing to do with that."

He propped his stick inside a tall umbrella stand just inside the front door and swept his arm toward the counter. "After you, milady. I believe they're awaiting our orders."

CHAPTER SIX

"We hardly ever see that girl," Henry said to Polly. This was a recurring theme. "Where is she tonight?"

"Jessie invited her to spend the night before school started. They're having girl talk," Polly said.

"It's really just you and me all alone - all night?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eye. He leaned over the sofa and groped her breast.

"Henry!" she exclaimed, laughing. "Stop that!"

He stood back up and with a proud smile, said, " No one's here. And don't tell me you hate it. You didn't say that last night."

Polly's face flushed and she giggled. "Sometimes I don't know what to say to you."

"I know," he said. "I'm hilarious. Are we grilling out tonight?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to. Let's go out to eat."

"It's because I groped you, isn't it. You want to be out in public where I'll be good. You're afraid of me," he taunted her.

"That's me. Afraid of you."

Henry bent back over and kissed her cheek. "I love you anyway. Where do you want to eat?"

"I could do Mexican."

He scowled. "We did takeout from there for lunch."

"We need more restaurants in this town," Polly said. "I don't feel like driving all the way down to Boone."

"It's fifteen miles. You drove farther than that for a meal when you lived in Boston."

"Yeah, but..."

"Don't yeahbut me," he said. "Come on, let's go."

"I don't want to leave town when Rebecca is staying somewhere else." Polly chuckled as she said it.

But Henry bit. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Ahh, a little bit," she said and jumped up off the sofa. "Can we just go to Davey's? I feel like steak or pasta or a big salad."

He rolled his eyes. "You are too easy."

She followed him through the house and down the back steps, glancing back to see two very forlorn dogs at the top.

"We'll be back soon. I promise," she said to them. "Now go lie down and keep each other company."

"You think they understand you?" Henry asked.

"I feel better if I talk to them, so don't give me any trouble."

He held the truck door open for her and waited until she was settled before going to the driver's side.

"Are you always going to do that?" Polly asked.

"Do what?"

"Hold the door for me?"

He spoke in an exaggerated drawl. "Absolutely, ma'am. We boys are brought up to take care of our women. Because y'all are precious flowers, deserving of our undying attention."

"You're a weird, weird man."

Henry touched the front of his non-existent Stetson and nodded to her. "Yes, ma'am."

"I didn't tell you about the bullies today," she said. "Three boys got pushy with me and Alistair Greyson when we were walking to the coffee shop."

"In Bellingwood?" Henry sounded shocked.

"I know!" she said. "I forgot to ask Jason if he knew who they were. I'm half tempted to find out who they are and call their mothers. It was rude. And honestly, Henry, I didn't know whether they were going to get physical or not."

He had stopped at the end of their driveway waiting for traffic to pass. "In Bellingwood?" he asked again.

"Almost downtown. I've seen one or two before. I have no idea what they thought they were doing. It was a little scary."

"In Bellingwood," he repeated, shaking his head. "I just don't believe it. And no one came out to stop them?"

"We weren't near any shops. But, to be honest, it was kind of entertaining to watch Grey sweep their feet out from under them and put them on the ground."

"Tell me you didn't..." Henry glanced at her.

"Kick them in the balls?" she asked, laughing. "No, but I probably should have. Taught those little jerks a lesson. And then one of them made a point of telling me that even though I thought I was a big deal, in reality I was nothing."

"That's not true," Henry said. "You are a pretty big deal in this little town."

"I've heard nasty stuff before, though," she said. "Sometimes it bothers me that people think that. I'm just doing my thing."

"People get jealous of others and their success. You're doing a lot for Bellingwood. There are always people who are so negative, they can only imagine you have sinister motives behind everything you do."

"Me?" she asked, laughing. "Sinister? I don't even know what that looks like."

"They do. They'll always hope you fail or look for a way to trip you up. They want to drag you down into the gutter with them. It's just their way."

"That's ridiculous. Have I done something to hurt these people?" She paused. "I don't even know who they are. Are they just phantom complainers?"

"They're real and there are more than a few in town."

"You've heard them?"

He grew quiet.

"You've heard people saying bad things about me, haven't you?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You shouldn't have to listen to that. Have you ever confronted them?"

Henry shook his head. "It's stupid to get into an argument with people like that. There's nothing you can say to change their mind, so why fight with them?"

"I know you're right, but it makes me even angrier that they think they can get away with bad-mouthing me in front of you. And other people who don't even know me."

"Everyone who is anyone knows they're wrong. They're just sad, sad people who have nothing better to do than to complain about good things. They're afraid of change and think that by making noise they can stop new things from happening."

Polly crossed her arms over her chest. "So the best thing for everyone else to do is just let them say terrible things. That makes a ton of sense," she said, marking every word with as much sarcasm as possible. "You know that kind of talk is insidious. Others hear it and then begin questioning whether or not it's true and before you know it, they're looking closely and making every little thing fit in with their negative belief about me."

"Now Polly, you know that isn't real." Henry drove past the entrance to Davey's.

"Don't try to placate me. This is how World War II started. Hitler's beliefs were insidious and people who should have stood up and stopped him, didn't."

He burbled out a laugh. "Bellingwood is World War II Germany now?"

"No!" she snapped. "But you know what I mean."

Henry drove into the parking lot of Sycamore Inn and parked. "You're right. I should be better about standing up for you, but seriously, Polly. Most of the garbage that comes out of their mouths is hooey and everyone knows it. These people are just looking for a fight and I don't particularly want to be the one to give it to them."

"Who are
these
people, by the way?" she asked.

He tried to wave her off. "I don't know. It's been a while since I've been anywhere to hear them. It's no big deal."

"It was a big enough deal today that three young punks thought they could get all up in my face and try to bully me."

Henry reached over and took her hand. "Find out who those little jack-asses are and I
will
stand up and protect you. Trust me on that."

Polly reached out and patted his arm, smiled, affected her own drawl and batted her eyes at him. "You're mah hero," she said. "Mah big, strong hero."

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

He backed out and drove to Davey's.

Polly reached for the door handle after he parked the truck. "I feel kind of guilty."

"For what?" he asked.

"I should have invited someone to come to dinner with us. I get so busy that I don't think about it until it's too late."

"You're a nut and I love you," he said. "I think the world will be just fine tonight if you aren't taking care of it."

"Brat." Polly opened the door and hopped down. She waited for Henry to catch up and they went inside. The hostess seated them and Polly checked out the room. She could always count on someone interesting being here. Henry often told her that she had more fun watching people than actually spending time with him. That was true.

She'd never been able to find anyone since college who would play the story-telling game with her and she missed it. They would choose a few people and weave elaborate lives for them, based on nothing more than what they were wearing and doing at the time. There were international spies or housewives whose other job was much more interesting. They had created serial killers and bounty hunters, aliens bent on taking over the world and even little old ladies who lived with 87 cats. Maybe she should teach Rebecca and Andrew how to play the game. Their imaginations were still growing.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Henry asked. "You're a million miles away."

"Oh nothing. Just thinking about how interesting people are."

He glanced around the room. "You're doing it again, aren't you?"

"Watching? Yeah. I guess so." Then she saw him. "That's him," she whispered loudly.

Henry looked up. "Who?"

"The little brat who got all up in my face today. He's here with his parents."

"Who?" he asked again.

"He's behind you." She stopped him before he turned around. "No, don't look. I don't want him to know he got to me."

"Who cares what he knows?" Henry asked. "If he was bullying you on the streets of Bellingwood, I'd like him to know that I've got your back and he can't get away with it." He turned around in his chair and stared at the table with the young man.

The boy glanced up and caught his eye, then ducked his head.

Henry turned back to her. "Now it makes sense. Those aren't his parents. They're his dad's brother and wife. His parents were killed the winter before you got here. That's Heath Harvey. The poor kid has been in a lot of trouble. He just can't move on."

"Was he in the accident with them?" Polly asked.

Henry shook his head. "No, they were on their way to a basketball game in Ames. They shouldn't have gone out in the storm. His older brother was playing. Hayden, I think his name is. Anyway, Heath was home with a babysitter and it busted him up pretty bad. His uncle is a tough man. He farms out east of town. So, in one fell swoop, he lost his parents and had to move out of town, away from everything he was used to."

"You're almost making me feel bad for the kid," Polly said.

"Well, he shouldn't be acting like that, but those two have no control of him. I hope he figures it out, but who knows."

"Is he Jason's age?"

Henry looked up from the menu. "Stop it. Don't make Jason get involved with that. He doesn't need to rescue the world with you. That poor kid is finally done with a year where he had to figure out his own life."

"But..."

He put his hand over the top of hers. "I love you..."

"You already said that," she replied, interrupting him.

"But you don't need to get involved in every problem that rears its head in Bellingwood."

Polly picked up her menu and then said, "If I don't, who will?" She glanced back at the boy sitting sullenly at the table with his aunt and uncle. "Don't they say that kids' brains aren't fully developed at this age - that decision making and empathy and all of that is still being learned?" she mused out loud. "Is he just expected to figure it out on his own? Those people aren't going to help him. I mean, look at them. They aren't talking. And why didn't they have children of their own? Was it because they couldn't or because they didn't want to? Then they were stuck with a messed up kid they barely knew."

"Honey," he said. "Don't do this to yourself. You can't fix him."

"But I could show him something different. What if I offered him a job at the coffee shop or out at Sycamore Inn. It wouldn't be many hours, but he'd be with people I trust to be good to him."

"You have a brand-new manager at the coffee shop. Are you just going to throw employees at her and expect her to deal with them?"