Paisley's Pattern (13 page)

He couldn't take his focus off her. “Sure. You haven't checked it out yet?”

“I haven't been invited to. All I could tell from the kitchen window is that it's old. The pale turquoise and white makes me wonder if you'll match up the colors. And the logo hasn't been clear. A cow, huh?” She stepped up and paused in the doorway of the right side to smile back at him. “Very interesting. The driver could go out either door, depending on the direction of his delivery. It must have been loaded from the back, and it has folding doors on all sides. What does the name on the truck stand for, anyway?”

“It was just a brand name to me until I looked it up. Thanks again for letting me use your laptop. The acronym stands for Detroit Industrial Vehicles Company.” The sweet old milk truck was now his only project.

“And the year?”

“Early sixties.” Was she avoiding personal talk? “Where were you today? I tried to call.”

“I used that Nebraska map and drove to the South Dakota border.”

“Really? By yourself?”

“Right. But I didn't go across the state line. I just had the urge to explore and discovered along the way that such a journey would be much more fun to share with someone by my side.”

“OK. Maybe there wasn't cell service. I repaired the frames and small furniture. They're in the kitchen if you want to finish tagging. I'm sure you saw the signs. Sale is in a few days.”

What will you do then, my elusive Paisley girl?

“Thanks for fixing everything. I saw them inside and they look good as new. You do such great work, Rob. How you fixed that scroll work on the antique frame of the mirror is beyond me.”

Her praise of his ability meant more than he cared to admit.

“Edna Mae said your dad used to fix the frames for Oren's mom. She collected the mirrors.”

“That's why there are so many around.” He'd like to take a picture of Paisley framed in the doorway of the truck. With her hands braced on either side, she was posed the same as his mother in the old photograph.

Paisley bubbled on. “I pulled up and Edna Mae stopped me from going inside the house. She showed me her cleaned out garage and all the trash waiting for pick up. Those sanitation guys will be surprised, thinking we were all done at this location. She's quite the gal. I'd be glad to have a caring neighbor like Edna Mae. That is, if I ever have a home of my own.”

I'd like to provide that home for you.

“Aunt Rainbow called today. The ship has docked and she'll soon be on her way home. She wants me to take pictures and I'll mark those last things you put in the kitchen. I wouldn't miss the tag sale and am curious as to how it all comes together. I'm looking forward to it. How about you? I think your support of Oren would mean a lot to him.”

“You must not have had anyone to talk to all day. Are you caffeinated? As for the sale, I haven't decided yet if I'm going to be around.”

“I want to be part of it. And speaking of sales, Aunt Rainbow asked me to help tag her next job.”

“That brings me to what I've been waiting to ask.”

“You don't have to ask. I have no desire to take the job in California. I turned it down days ago.”

He'd suffered for no reason. Tortured himself, rather than trust her. Rob moved in close and his arms encircled her waist as if powered by remote control. They were at eye level since she still stood on the truck's platform. He'd won this round, now he only had to collect the prize.

An invisible force brought them together. Their connection was explosive at first, his teeth bit into his lip and he hoped the impact was lighter for Paisley. His heart soared to his head. The sudden urge to hold on to her forever threatened to be too much for him. But he broke their connection in stages, became aware of the cooler air on his face that replaced her warm exhalations.

With her eyes still closed she framed his face and traced his features.

He forgot to breathe.

“I would like to be a sculptor right now,” she said in a voice that registered a wave above a whisper. She outlined his brows, the corners of his eyes, his temples. Feathered her fingers over his cheekbones, the line of his jaws.

Bright silver lights lasered behind his eyes as her fingertips caressed his lips.

He needed to put the skids on this building dance of desire. He wet his dry lips.

She gasped and her eyes startled open.

 

 

 

 

 

12

 

The moist connection of Rob's touch snapped Paisley out of the trance. Her fingers had taken that exploratory journey of their own volition.

She wanted to be close to him, no matter where he was, but right now they needed a touch of distance so she could collect herself. She dropped her arm and bumped the shelf area in front of the partial wall that divided the truck's front from back. Then she swiveled and tripped against the gearshift, ramming that tender spot of her thigh into the pedestal seat behind the steering wheel. Regaining her balance, she noticed the cargo area of the truck had been gutted. It was easy to imagine shelves or braced frames where crates of milk bottles once slid into place for transport.

Paisley felt the pull of Rob's attention and met his gaze over her shoulder. Storm clouds of passion warred within. The light made it difficult to determine if his eyes were dark brown or a thunderous deep blue. Her desire was for him to discover spiritual peace. It was an intangible he had to discern for himself, impossible for her to provide for him. But could she lead him there in some way?

“I have no idea if I can explain, but something happened inside me today. I was driving through the country north of here and a sense of indescribable serenity washed over my spirit. I wondered about the people who lived on those farms in years past, all the family stories created in one place. I've never perceived the impact of any of that stuff. You know how gorgeous California is, but I was filled with contentment, sure that for the first time in my life I'm exactly where the Lord wants me to be. In Nebraska, touted as the good life.”

I'm meant to explore this land, stay and share life with you.

“Are you ignoring what just happened between us? You've seen the truck. You've talked about the countryside. It's nice you had a relaxing drive. But you're avoiding how explosive we are together. Can you deny that we're meant to be together? Of course, you have to stay in one place long enough for that to happen.”

She wanted to slap that tinge of bitterness out of the air. By the look on his face, Rob felt the same way. She looked deep into his eyes. “The Lord holds my future. Any job I'm meant to do is in His hands and He'll take care of me as long as I rest in Him.”

Rob remained in the passenger doorway so she slid out the driver's side.

“You've spent a lot of time out here in the shed. Oren must not have carpentry or mechanical skills or he would have told you about times spent with your dad fixing things up. Have you considered that you've breathed in the same space as your father? Have you met any of his ghosts, imagined how he remembered your mother and whatever their story was together?”

He jabbed the doorframe and jumped down from the truck. “The ghost thing is a little woo-woo, even for you. But what is it with you and Edna Mae? I can't be around either one of you without hearing about my mother.”

“She's your past, Rob. I've dealt with mine. I know I can't leave any troubles behind if I flit around from one place to another. I want to make peace with you. For both our sakes, please make peace with Precious.”

 

~*~

 

The day of the tag sale arrived.

Rob was nervous. Would he be less of a man if he admitted ball bearings waged a war in his guts? He didn't know what to expect, what would happen next, once the goods inside the house were sold. What did Oren see him doing with all the tools in the shed? And what about the truck? He entered through the kitchen.

Sara greeted him with a hug. “Uncle Rob's here, give him the present, Dad.”

Oren hesitated at the door from the front room, then entered and handed Rob a small sack. “It's hard to walk in sometimes. This house is no longer a sanctuary. I have to push aside the habit of entering and calling out, ‘Hey, Dad.' I never knew what I'd find with his state of mind those last months. All that aside, we want you to look like you belong here today.”

Rob reached in and pulled out a black cap with a Big Red
N
. No words were needed. He plopped it on his head and thanked Oren with a hug.

He spied Paisley. “What are you doing in the pantry?”

“Just taking a final look to make sure everything is tagged clearly.”

“You've done an amazing job.” Nora crossed the kitchen and stuck a hand into the store bag she carried. She gave Paisley a long-sleeved, red tee-shirt with a Nebraska logo over the heart. “No layered skirt and fancy shirt today, girl.”

Paisley accepted the gift, hugged Nora, and slipped into the bathroom for a quick change.

She emerged to the brothers speaking at the same time.

“Looks good on you,” Oren and Rob said.

“Red may be your new color,” Nora added. “A small token of our appreciation. You didn't know my father-in-law, but you handled the contents of his life with dignity and respect. Even exposed to the horrid piles of the basement, you refrained from any derogatory remarks.”

Paisley's rosy cheeks tickled Rob. She neatly folded her blouse, looking around for a place to put it out of the way.

“Follow me, Paisley.” She trailed Nora from the kitchen.

Oren and Nora had set up a card table on the wide enclosed front porch, where Nora tucked away the blouse.

The front door stood propped open. Buyers lined up for the sale and claimed a number at the table as they entered. That number would be recorded on those bright tags Paisley had painstakingly placed on the household goods, turned in, and the items paid for.

Rob took note of the process and wandered the rooms. If walls could talk, he imagined he'd witness his father interacting with Oren's mother at the dining table. Hear the jubilation in Mark Waverly's voice at the news he was going to be a father. See Oren as a baby, a boy, a teen, and finally as a man, coming home to visit a vague remnant of the father he'd once known.

A man's home was meant to be a place to lock out the world rather than turn into a tomb of recall. It was a bigger IF, but if Rob were to take Oren up on his offer of the property, could he make a living in this town in the middle of nowhere?

Rob roamed up the stairs, where he scanned the larger possessions. Mostly bedroom furniture, framed wall art, and mirrors made up the remaining pieces of a lifetime. How would the rooms be filled if he bought the place? There were a lot of rooms. Only a family would do justice to the house.

Paisley spoke from behind him. “If I were to die today, I would leave very little behind. My possessions consist of clothing, some books, and photo albums. You left tools and collectibles in California. But like me, you rented so you have no furniture to unload if you move.”

“I can guess where this is going. We have other things besides stuff to unload.” He shot a glance toward the stairs to make sure they were still alone. “I've been thinking about what you said regarding my mother. Deep down, I've always longed to let go of bitter feelings toward her and what she kept from me. But that garbage has been a major part of my psyche. I've been mad at the world as long as I can remember.”

“Believe me, if you aren't mad about something, you're so handsome I get weak in the knees. But your family influence has made you lighten up so much. I like you better the way you've been lately.” She straightened a window shade, stretching to see over the dividing ledge. “I can't begin to tell you what your laughter does to me. I feel those sounds trickle down my spine all the way to my ankles.”

“That's quite a confession.” He couldn't hold back the smile, or the pull to get closer. He sauntered over, hugged her from behind. The street looked inviting from this vantage point. “I don't know if I could write down the long list of what you do to me.”

She sucked in a breath. “On the serious side, referring to my upbringing, that quest was instilled within me, looking for something somewhere else by packing up and changing locations. I'm more than ready to settle in one place. Here.”

He rested his chin on the top of her head. Underneath the peachy floral scent, he caught the new smell of her shirt.

“I've had a rebirth of spirit. I love this place where the pace of living is more laid back and people are happy going about doing what they are meant to be doing.” She swiveled in his arms and tapped the bill of his cap. “Looks good on you, as if you belong. I now long to establish roots—something I've always been afraid to pursue.”

“What was that message we heard recently from the pulpit?” Rob asked. “Sometimes the heart has to rule over the head. If we're in tune with God, I believe that heart instinct comes from Him. Nothing we face in life is as bad as the fear that builds as we dream up what could happen if something or other evolves. So we can't allow that emotion based on what-ifs or half-truths to build and take over our common sense, which is how I see you getting up and moving on.”

“Are we talking about abstract stuff here, or reality? I compare those heart decisions to the way I feel inside around you. Sometimes it's as though my head says no, I can't take the chance of getting hurt because I don't agree with where you are coming from. But my heart screams yes, Rob is the man for me.” Paisley continued on the same line of his thinking. “I'm not saying I followed God's leading, moving around so much, but He used it for my good. At times, I've forged ahead and discovered what I was meant to go through. God allowed me to learn and grow through the experiences.”