Love In a Small Town (27 page)

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Authors: Joyce Zeller

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BOOK: Love In a Small Town
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"Look at me." Karen's voice, as she came back into the room, was filled with wonder. The satin dress clung to her body, the iridescence changing to blue shadows as she walked.

"Gorgeous, Karen. Very elegant." Lynn clapped her hands, as excited as Karen. "That looks like vintage Christian Dior."

Bewildered, Emily asked, "Who is Christian Dior?"

"A very famous designer from the 1940s," Lynn said. She couldn't remember when she had enjoyed herself as much as today.

"Karen," Sarah said. "You have breasts. I never noticed because of the floppy sweaters you always wear. Buy that dress. You're the only girl in town thin enough to wear it."

Karen's face reddened. "I don't like tight clothes. My top is too big to go with the rest of me, and my arms are skinny. I wish this dress had sleeves."

"Hold on, I'll be back in a minute." Sarah dashed out of the room and, true to her word, returned shortly, carrying an ivory silk embroidered shawl, with foot-long fringe.

"I saw this last week, when I was in here. It came in with a lot of Victorian costume stuff. Here you go." She draped it over Karen's shoulders, and stood back to survey the result. "Not bad, if we can figure out how to keep it in place while you walk."

"You sew straps that go under your shoulders at the armpits to hold it," Lynn said. "That's how they used to do it, anyhow."

A pleased smile brightened Sarah's face. "This is really coming together. I think we have the prom outfits; now we have to do the everyday."

"Before you get started," Lynn said, "let me tell you that the staff would like you to find new ways to wear jeans and cargo pants. They said they have about a hundred pair for sale."

"Good idea. Let's get to the other box and put this stuff aside, for now."

The door opened and another woman entered. "How's it going?"

"Wonderful," Lynn said. "Girls, I want you to meet Kay Herman, the Chairman of the style show."

"Hi, Mrs. Herman," they parroted, nodding.

Lynn continued. "We have the evening outfits taken care of and we're just starting the day outfits. Look at Karen. Isn't she beautiful?"

"What a gorgeous dress. A Christian Dior design from the forties."

Pleased, Karen slouched back and forth, imitating her idea of a model.

"I have news. I've just met with the fashion director, and she wants six outfits in all, so you'll each model one daytime and one evening outfit, daytime first. There'll be a short intermission, and then you'll come on with the evening outfits. That gives you plenty of time to change."

"I'm kind of scared," Emily said. "I'm not sure I can walk out there on the runway by myself. Will there be many people there?"

"It's in the Kensington ballroom, which seats about six hundred on folding chairs," Kay Herman replied.

"Oh, gee," Karen said. "I'll be so nervous I'll trip over my feet."

Lynn thought for a minute, and said, "You know, there's no reason why the boys can't escort you onto the runway. You can do the walk and they can take you back down the stairs."

"Logan would do it, and he can talk Dakota and Anthony into it," Sarah said, "but we'll have to find something for them to wear."

"No problem," Lynn said. "I'll talk to David. He can rent tuxedos for the boys. What do you think? That will add a lot of class to the show."

Karen's eyes were glowing. "Oh, Anthony would look so handsome in a tux."

"It won't be easy getting Dakota into a tux," Emily said.

Sarah looked at her, puzzled. "How would you know? You just met him."

Emily blushed. "We've been spending a lot of time on the phone."

"Awesome. You're crushing on Dakota?" Karen asked.

Emily sighed. "He's totally dope. We have so much to talk about. We talk for hours."

There was a pause while Sarah, Karen, and Lynn stared at her, and each other, mystified. The Dakota they knew considered any two words spoken aloud a complete sentence.

"Come on," Sarah said, "We still have work to do. Let's see what came from Chicago."

Fired with enthusiasm, they sorted through boxes, inspired by what they found.

Emily held up a pair of black cargoes. "Hey, look at these pants. There are a dozen pockets with zippers. These are way cool, but I need a shirt."

Sarah held up a black T-shirt. "Here you go." She read the printing on the front of the shirt aloud. "Elvis—Las Vegas, December 1976. Geez, this thing is almost forty years old, and it's hardly worn."

"What a find." Lynn's voice was filled with awe. "That'll be the hit of the show. We'll make the audience bid on the whole outfit to get the shirt."

"I bet you get a hundred bucks for that," Kay Herman said. "Elvis is still huge around here."

"How about this?" Emily had hurriedly changed into the pants and shirt. "Here are some red suspenders. I'll clip them on and let them hang down the back." She added a Chicago Cubs ball cap worn backwards. "How's that?"

"Totally sick," Sarah declared. "We have to find something for Karen. I know. Tear holes in the knees of these jeans, roll them up calf high." She rummaged in the box and handed Karen a sheer, short-sleeved summer print dress. "This will come to the middle of your thigh, like a baby doll top. I saw a picture of Miley Cyrus, when she was Hannah Montana, in a magazine wearing something like this," Sarah said. "Wear this under the dress." She handed her a long sleeved white knit, silk turtleneck. "I love it. How about you, Karen?"

"It's great. You really have a talent for this, Sarah. You should do this every year."

"Yeah, if I'm still here, but let's not talk about my problem. It makes me sick to think of it."

"What are these?" Karen asked, showing a box of colored wooden disks the size of a quarter.

"Those are somebody's collection of casino gambling chips from all over," Lynn said. "Each casino has its own design, and people collect them. These are old. The chips are all plastic now."

"Oh, neat," Sarah cried. "Give them to me."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"They're going to become a necklace after I drill holes in them and string them on a cord. There's enough for three or four long strands. I'm wearing a tuxedo shirt. They'll go with my outfit."

Finally, the day was over. Lynn, exhausted but happy, felt they had the makings of a terrific show. Rehearsal was next Wednesday night—the performance Thursday evening.

'Shakespeare's Flowers' would be bottled and everything would be ready. There was no doubt in her mind that Logan, Dakota and Anthony would come up with labels and a poster. They were good and loyal friends.

"Okay, you girls. Do you have everything? I'm going to take each one of you home. Work on your outfits. Dress rehearsal is Wednesday night, so you should be pretty well put together by then."

"This is going to be so great," Emily sighed as she slid into the back seat of Lynn's car. "I want to see Dakota in a tux. I'm going to ask Mom to get boutonnières for the guys."

"Don't worry about it, Emily," Lynn said. "I'm sure David will take care of that."

Emily giggled. "Do eggplants have flowers?"

They drove off laughing.

Chapter Twenty-seven

 

"Hurry, Dad. They're going to be here in any time, now." Saturday morning was Sarah's first day as a volunteer at the Humane Society Kennels, and she paced the floor, peering out the kitchen door every few minutes, waiting to be picked up by Emily's mom, who was driving her and Emily, Dakota, Anthony, Karen, and Logan to the animal shelter.

David had been up for an hour, wearing his usual sweat pants and a t-shirt, in his bare feet, assembling lunch for Sarah. He eyed his work and added another dozen cookies; to be sure she had enough for everybody. There were also several extra sandwiches in case Logan's fridge was short on supplies. Logan spent enough time with Sarah to be considered a family member.

Sarah eyed the sack skeptically. "Dad, I'm not going on safari, I'm spending the day at the kennels. It can't be more than two miles from here. If we get hungry, we'll phone home for more food."

He gave her a sheepish grin. "We wouldn't want Dakota to be without cookies."

She laughed and threw her arms around him. "You are the world's greatest Dad," she said, rubbing her cheek on the short whiskers he'd taken to wearing because, he admitted, chagrinned, Lynn said she liked them.

"Oh. I forgot to tell you Lynn knows that the kids know you're getting married. I just had to tell Emily and Karen yesterday when we were at the Doggie Shop. I'm so happy for you, Dad. I know Mom would be happy. She wouldn't have liked the way things were after she died."

"Thanks. Lynn knows that we will love her with all our heart, but you and I will never forget Anne."

"Lynn's wonderful. We'll be happy. We're all going to live here, aren't we?"

"I don't know," he said, stunned. He'd never thought about where to live. Had Lynn? "She's coming over this morning. We'll have to talk about it."

Sarah patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Not to worry. I'm sure Lynn has it figured out. She's almost as good an organizer as I am," she said, with the newly found confidence she'd gained from working on the style show.

A car horn sounded from the curb.

"Go. Emily's Mom is out there waiting for you. Have a good day."

He watched her go out the door and run down the driveway. Logan came out of his house, and ran to catch up with her. Sarah was blooming with happiness. Funny how life sometimes works out if you give it half a chance.

A half-hour later Lynn's car pulled into the drive and she got out carrying a backpack. The sight of her brought on an aching want. He held the screen door open and took her in his arms.

"Good morning," she said. "In two weeks we'll be waking up together when I say that." She kissed him gently.

"Mmm. More," he said, taking over. "Sarah gave you a compliment. She said you were a very good organizer. Almost as good as her."

"Almost?" Giving him a devilish grin, she added, "I'll tell you how organized I am. I didn't wear any underwear. I brought it with me."

"Okay, that's it." He picked her up in his arms. "As partial as I am to kitchens, I need a real bed for what I'm going to do to you."

When they passed through the living room, he paused a moment. "I'll never be able to walk through here without remembering your massage. You about killed me, woman."

"And there might be more where that came from, if you're real good."

"When I finish with you today, you'll never have to wonder again."

She teased him, "You men. Is sex all you ever think about?"

"It never used to be, but that's changed recently. Now it's the
only
thing I think about." They had reached his bedroom and she grinned at him, amused.

"What?"

"You've planned ahead. The sheets are changed and you left the covers pulled down. You were expecting company?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, laying her gently on the bed. "Don't move. I want to undress you." He stripped off his pants and shirt and stood before her, loving the way her eyes devoured him. "You like what you see, lady? It's all yours, starting now."

"You'll have to tell me how you got that tan without any tan lines."

"The hot tub on the patio has a tall screen around it. We'll check it out later."

He knelt on the bed, pulled her t-shirt over her head, and got rid of her shorts, letting his hands roam as he did.

She gasped when he touched her breasts.

Her hands kneaded his shoulders. "You have such a male body. I know how every inch of it feels. I know how it tastes, too," she teased, laughing when she saw his cock jerk.

"God, Lynn. Stop that or I'll come, and I don't intend to do that until I'm done with you."

That said he lowered his mouth to her breast. "I love the way your nipples get long and hard for me. These are going to need a lot of work." Taking as much as he could into his mouth, pulling at it, sucking and kneading them with his hands, he went from one to the other, until she was whimpering with passion.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No. Yes. Well, a little, but it feels good. Don't stop."

He took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and pulled on them gently. "These are coming along. Let's see what else I can find." Slowly, he moved his mouth down her stomach, licking and kissing as he went. Her body jerked as his tongue probed her navel.

"Ticklish, are we?"

"Oh, David. I can't do this. It's too much. Please."

"Please what, darling?"

"I don't know. Make me come. Please. I can't wait. David." The last was a wail of distress.

"Not yet, baby. You'll like this."

He spread her legs as wide as he could get them; he grasped her buttocks with both hands, raising her core to his mouth. His lips searched until they found her clit, grasping it, tugging gently, and then licking greedily.

She screamed and bucked wildly in his hands, climaxing instantly.

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