Love Lifted Me (11 page)

“I had to take care of a few things in the city and it took longer than I thought.” Max slipped a legal folder into the black shoulder case. “Why don't you just tell them you need a few minutes to get ready. Send them over to Mae's. That ought to be worth an hour of good entertainment for them.”

“I can't. They want to shoot now. I think they did this on purpose to surprise me, catch me off guard. Let's just get this done so I can get ready to leave.” Her background in PR told Jade golden opportunities like this one didn't come often or easy.

Tomorrow afternoon, June would drive them to the airport and they were off to Colby by way of Amarillo.

“Okay, I'll entertain them while you change.”

“Too late.” Jade's heart sank. “They've already taken a bunch of pictures.” Forget that Jade planned to wear the perfect vintage outfit. A Dior shirtwaist dress. Unfortunately, she hadn't picked it up from the cleaners yet.

Later, when they were
supposed
to be here, she'd look the perfect vintage part of the perfect vintage shop.

“Ah, forget it, babe. This is the real you.”

“Nice . . . sloppy and plain.”

“Just the way I like you.” Max hooked his arm around her, but his calm and relaxed, trained lawyer confidence was irritating. “You're gorgeous,” he whispered, then stepped into the shop where the couple from
Southern Life
stood. “Hi, I'm Max Benson, sorry to make you wait.”

On top of being calm, he looked like a million bucks in his jeans and white button-down that accented his tan and the hue of his eyes. Jade felt like a muddy heifer next to him.

“Eric Potter.” The photographer shook Max's hand. “This is Raven Winters.”

“I've heard about you, Max Benson. My fiancé is a lawyer for Sloan & Mynheir.”

“Out of Atlanta. I've gone up against them a few times.”

“So I've been told.” Raven tapped on her smartphone, her tone baiting. “I hear y'all work hard and play dirty.”

When she looked up, she smirked as if she knew all Max's secrets. Dread washed over Jade. Was that what the interview was about? Getting at a southern lawyer instead of a southern vintage shop owner? Benson Law constantly declined requested interviews. Did Raven find an end around?

“Dirty? No, smart.” Max nodded at her. “No need to play dirty when you've got the goods.”

“I heard you just returned from rehab, Max. An affair, drug addiction.” Raven shivered. “Ooh, it's a John Grisham novel.”

“Aren't you here to talk to my wife? She has an incredible, unique business here.”

“So she does. So she does.” Raven exhaled a high saucy laugh. “Are we ready to shoot? Jade, why don't you show us around the shop. I can ask questions while we walk.”

Jade shoved a wisp of her hair from her eyes with a glance up at Max. His eyes said, “Sorry.”

“This is the main shop.” Jade moved to the middle of the room where the sunbeams liked to collect.

Eric aimed his camera and Jade tried to smile with a lively flare, but she felt tiled, off balance.

“My editor said you and Max are moving?” Raven offered up her digital recorder.

“Not permanently, no.” Jade had called to let them know she would be gone for five months. The editor wanted to go ahead with the story. Now Jade knew why. Southern law scandal was more interesting than old clothes and an Iowa girl. “Max accepted an opportunity in Texas. In here we—”

“Is the move to get away from his bad-boy reputation with drug addiction and women?”

“Excuse me?” Jade confronted Raven. “Bad-boy reputation? Women? I think this interview is over.”

“Jade,” Raven condescended with her tone. “I'm trying to get the full story. The readers want to know everything about you and your shop. Max is part of your story. It's interesting. Our readers will love it. An up-and-coming vintage expert married to a prestigious, scandalous southern lawyer? It's a soap opera. A Lifetime movie. The fairy tale of a single girl marrying into legal royalty only to face infidelity and drama. Just like the rest of us. Girl, it's a great angle. My editor loves it.”

“So that's what your piece is about? Me and broken fairy tales. To make the rest of the world feel better?” Jade curled her fingers into her palm.

“It's about vintage and the people who wear it and sell it. So what if a bit of your backstory hits the pages. Now, what's back here?” Raven brushed around Jade for the storeroom.

Jade glanced at Max who stood watch over Asa as he drove his truck along the perimeter of the sun circles. He queried Jade with his expression.
What? How can I help?

Change your last name
.

Jade motioned for him to follow her but his phone rang and he answered, holding up his just-a-minute finger.

Jade went to the dark storeroom alone. With Raven. “This is our storeroom. I keep all the inventory here, plus upstairs in the loft.”

“It's quite large. Where do you get your inventory? Estate sales? Consignment?”

“Both. I also have private contacts who are aware of clothes and other vintage items not available to the public.”

“Ooh, and who might they be?”

“If I tell you, then I'd have to kill you.” Jade grinned, holding on to the thought for a moment. Sigh . . .
let it go, Jade
. “Upstairs is the loft. Like I said, it's used for storage and staging.” Jade pressed her hand lightly to Raven's back and moved her through the shop. “And here's my office.”

“What do you mean staging? And what's your hurry? Afraid I'll discover a secret?”

“Staging is where I pick a theme for the week and set up clothes and jewelry from that era. Like Bobby Soxers or Jackie O Days.”

“Fascinating.” Raven headed back to the storeroom. “Eric, did you see those calendars on the back wall? What are those about, Jade? More vintage lore?”

“It's the wall of calendars.”

“Eric, get a shot of this. Here's one from 1914 and one from 1920. Jade, are these real? Not reprints.”

“They're real. They belonged to the family who owned this space before me. It was a five and dime.” Jade crossed the storeroom to Raven and as she did, she spotted Lillabeth in the alley talking to a man—no one she knew or had seen in the Hollow before. “When I bought the place, the calendars were already on the wall with certain days circled or marked. It seemed like a sign. Vintage shop with vintage calendars. There are significant days circled. See? August twenty-first, 1914. Beginning of the First World War.” Jade moved to the next calendar and flipped to October. “Black Friday, 1929.”

“What about this calendar from three years ago?” Raven walked the wall. “Why did you circle December twenty-fourth? What happened that day?” She leaned to examine the dark, thick circle as she might find some hidden clue. “Did you get a great Christmas present? A marriage proposal?”

“We were already married. I circled it because it was a lovely evening. We had a party here with Max's colleagues and our friends. Around dusk, it started snowing and we all went for a walk in Laurel Park. It was quite lovely.” Jade smoothed her hand over the slick page, wiping away a thin layer of dust.

“Lovely and hopeful.”

“Hopeful? Come on, Jade, give it up. What happened on the twenty-fourth?”

“A day I felt redeemed.” She peered at Raven without another word. That day was definitely not her business. It was when she told Max about their honeymoon baby and the residue of aborting a baby at sixteen washed away. She'd found out a week before but had saved the news for Christmas Eve.

“Redeemed? From what? Do tell. Are you a woman of faith?”

“I am a woman of faith. Redeemed but weak.” Jade tapped the calendar. She'd lost that baby six weeks later.

“I don't see any new calendars. Not last year's. Or this year.”

“Well, Raven, this year isn't over yet.”

“What's the criteria to get on the wall?” She held up her recorder.

“Special. It just has to be a special year.”

Raven regarded Jade through narrowed eyes as if she didn't believe her. “Do I have this right, Jade? Asa is Max's son but not yours?”

She'd certainly done her homework. But where? How? “Raven, if you want to talk vintage, I'm all in. But if you want to talk personal, then maybe we should just forget this whole feature.”

“Tell me, how did you and Max meet?” She talked into her recorder, linking her arm through Jade's.

“Right here, in the Blue Umbrella.” This kind of questioning was more like it. Jade led the reporter back into the shop.

“Very romantic. Who saw who first?”

“I saw her first,” Max said from his perch against the sales counter. “Fell in love first too.” If he was trying to make up for leaving her alone with Raven, he was on the right track. When he winked at Jade, she warmed. He'd been doing a lot of things lately to make up for lost time.

“What about you, Jade? Did you fall in love at first sight?”

“Maybe second sight.” Jade regarded her husband. “But falling in love with Max was easy.” Working out their relationship presented a bigger challenge.

Raven asked the technical details of when and where they were married and for how long. Then, at last, she talked vintage. She was quite knowledgeable, which redeemed her a bit in Jade's mind.

“Why vintage, Jade?”

“Because”—Jade glanced around the shop—“to me, things have value.

Each item in here represents a time in our history that we shouldn't forget.

Clothes, jewelry, music, books, even furniture pieces, remind us. The calendars on the wall.” She walked toward the hat display. “If I say pillbox hat, what do you think? Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.”

Raven asked a few more questions, then tucked her recorder into her purse.

“Great interview, Jade.” She motioned to Eric. “Let's get some shots of the family.”

Gathered in the sunspot, Eric positioned Max and Jade with Asa in between. “All right, everyone watch the birdie.”

Max's phone rang and the first shot had him looking down, reaching into his pocket. “Sorry, it's our Realtor. One second please.” Max set Asa on the floor and backed away.

Raven smiled at Jade as if she pitied her. Eric snapped a few shots of Asa.

“Great thing about digital,” he said. “I can take as many shots as I want.”

“Okay, I'm back. Jade, the boosters are planning a welcome party for us.”

“I thought you were talking to the Realtor.” Between prepping to move and dirt-seeking Raven, Jade teetered on the edge.

“She's also the head of the booster welcome committee.” Max swung Asa up in his arms and stood next to Jade. “Now we're ready.”

But they weren't. Max's phone rang three more times. He answered it three more times. The last time, Jade followed him to the back of the shop.

“Max, Eric and Raven are waiting. Why do people answer phones only to ignore the people standing in front of them? You're not the only one with things to do. Everyone's time is valuable.”

He peered at her. “Chevy, I'm in the middle of something,” Max said. “I'll call you back.”

“Are we ready this time?” Eric raised his camera for the shot. Max tightened his hand on Jade's shoulder. “Jade, you don't look happy. How about a smile?” She obliged, tugging on her T-shirt and smoothing her hand over her hair. Eric looked up from the viewfinder. “You look great. How about a smile? Ready? On three. One, two—”

“Schmile.” Asa shot his little arms into the air, bared his baby whites, and slurred out his favorite word.

Jade burst out laughing. Max's deep chuckle rolled underneath hers. Eric captured the moment. The Benson family's last moments in Whisper Hollow, gazing at one another, laughing.

After Raven and Eric left, Max and Jade took Asa for lunch at Sugar Plumbs, breathed out, and laughed over burgers and fries.

“We sure are going to miss y'all around here,” Mae said, clearing away their plates. “I check for your Open sign every morning, Jade. I tell you, when you were gone those months, my whole routine was off.” The narrow woman with Appalachian charm frowned. “What am I going to do for five, six months? I'll burn half the town's hands pouring coffee.”

“Mae, you had Sugar Plumbs twenty years before I showed up. Besides, Lillabeth will be here, running the shop.”

“Yeah, and it wasn't 'til you moved in that my business got really good and I found my
nice
bone. Gave up my mean one. It just won't be the same. I tell you, not the same.” Shaking her head, Mae stepped off.

“Appalachian superstitions.”

“Yeah, Jade, but you have a way of making people feel right about their world.” Max reached inside his black attaché. “I was late this morning because I was picking this up.” He slid the envelope across the table.