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Authors: Jennifer LeJeune

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BOOK: Small Town Tango
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As Becky gets the keys and walks over to the door, she hears the chimes, as none other than Dylan Jones comes skipping in the door.

 

“We’re closed,” says Becky.

 

“Well, the sign still says ‘open’,” says Dylan.

 

“I was just on my way over to change it, Dylan, what can I get you?”

 

“I just wanted to see if you had any more of that scrumptious banana bread lying around. I already went through the whole loaf my granny got me this morning.”

 

“Pig,” says Becky.

 

“Hey, a growing man has to eat,” replies Dylan.

 

“I think you are about as grown as you are gonna get,” says Becky, “with your body, anyways.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean, Becky Ann Montgomery?”

 

“It means you haven’t changed any since third grade. Giving wedgies and mooning people will always be your activities of choice,” they giggle.

 

Katherine comes from the back. “What can I do you for, Dylan? We were just about to lock up,” she says as she tosses her towel on the counter.

 

“Oh, just another one of those delish loaves of banana bread you make.”

 

“I’m sorry, Dylan, we’re all sold out. You can come tomorrow around noon and we should have some more ready then,” says Katherine.

 

“Well, how about I walk you home then?” says Dylan.

 

“Actually, I am walking over to Miss Viola’s to change a light bulb for her. It’s just half a block over, I think I can manage. Thank you, though,” Katherine says, politely trying to decline his request and get him to be on his way.

 

Looking a tad upset, he turns towards the door. “I will be back at noon for that banana bread, Katy,” says Dylan, giving her a cocky grin and wink as he walks out the door.

 

“That boy is about as big-headed as a Goodyear blimp,” says Becky. Katherine nods in agreement as they flip the sign and shut off the lights.

 

Monica arrives back at the office to give Bo the bad news. “Granny ain’t budging, Mr. Brogan.”

 

“It’s ‘Mammy’ and what do you mean?” replies Bo. “Did you tell her about all of the amenities that she would have here? Did you tell her about the advanced medical treatment that she would receive at Dallas General Hospital?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Brogan, I covered all of the details immensely with her. She was not enthused about you trying to have her shipped here in Dallas, away from her home. That really is a lovely little cottage she has, it’s very serene… She basically told me to get lost… in a sweet way.”

 

“That sure does sound like her. I knew this would be no easy task. Maybe I can have my mother phone her and try to change her mind,” says Bo.

 

“Or,” replies Monica, “I’m sure that it would mean a lot more to her if you drove down there yourself to ask her instead of sending your secretary, or having your mother hound her. That’s just my friendly advice,” she grins.

 

“Hmm,” he thinks to himself, with a slight nod. “Cancel all of my plans for the week, I’m going. If this is the only way that I can get her here, then it must be done. I will only lose a few thousand dollars and possibly a major client, but it’s no big deal,” he says with a grimace on his face. “Lord give me the strength to handle this old woman, she is about the only person I know that is more stubborn than me,” he prays. “Little Hill, here I come.”

 

 

 

As Katherine walks slowly down Chelsea Lane, nervous, thinking about what she is going to say, she sees Miss Viola come stepping off of her porch.

 

“What are you doing out so late, Miss Viola?” asks Katherine.

 

“Oh, I’m just looking at this old place, Katy. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, it’s very beautiful, and I don’t understand why you would want to leave. What would make you want to leave this peaceful little town and your sweet cottage?” she shoots Miss Viola a desperate look, her eyes watering as she tries hard not to let the tears loose.

 

Suddenly, Miss Viola burst out laughing. “I’m not going anywhere, you silly girl. What in heaven’s name would make you think that?”

 

“That woman that was here earlier in the red car, what she said... “

 

“Oh, poppycock on what she said! Bo sent her here to try to convince me to move up to his new ‘luxurious’ apartment building, and bribe me with everything he could think of, it didn’t work. I would never leave this place. My Bobby would roll over in his grave if I ever left the home he built for me.”

 

 “Bo hasn’t even been here in years,” Katherine says. “What makes him think he can just send his secretary down here to swoop you away? That boy is something else!”

 

“You two never did get along very well,” replies Viola. “He means well, he really does. But I don’t think he realizes just how much more than a house and a town this place is to me.

 

“Little Hill is my entire life. I was born here. I was here before the town square had even completely come up. I want to be here to see this town grow until the end of my days. This is my town.

 

“Do you see those light blue shutters, and the rails on the porch with the rose bushes planted all the way around and the woodwork on the swing? Bobby did that all, just for me. That bench over there in between those two pear trees is where we were sitting when I told him I was pregnant with Bo’s father.

 

“Every moment I am alive I will live in and appreciate all of his hard work and dedication to make me the perfect home to raise my family.

 

“My every want in a home and in a husband, he fulfilled, and I will not show any lack of respect to that man. God rest his soul.”

 

A slight smile creeps upon Katherine’s lips, “So how about that light bulb?” As they walk into the house Katherine feels like a ton of bricks has been lifted off of her chest. 

 

“Thank you, Katy bug,” says Miss Viola as Katherine walks up the steps into the house to replace the light bulb.

 

                                     

 

 It’s been a long, emotionally trying day and she could use some relaxation and a good night’s sleep. As Katherine comes up to her driveway, she stands still for a moment, looking up at her little country style house with the hanging planters around the front and the white rocking chair on the porch, and wonders, “Will I ever be able to leave this place?”

 

She gets changed into a night gown, makes a cup of chamomile tea and grabs her Bible and snuggles into her plush bed. Reading Proverbs 31, she wonders if she will ever find a man to share her life with, to whom she could be the kind of wife that she desires to be, and to have him build her the perfect home, just like Bobby had done for Miss Viola. After all, she is 25 now, and if what Agnes Jones says is true, all of the fish in the sea will be swallowed up if she waits too much longer.

 

 

 

Bo boards his plane to make the thirty-five-minute flight to James City. There isn’t an airport in Little Hill, so that is as close as he will get. He despises long car trips and much prefers to view the sights from the top.

 

Flirting with the cute blonde flight attendant with the name Susan written on her name tag, he finds that the look on her face is screaming, “Take your bottle of water and leave me alone.”

 

“Eh,” he brushes it off. “This is her job, she must get hit on by every lonely traveler that boards the plane,” he thinks to himself.

 

Bo has a lot more strategizing to do anyway, if he is going to get his poor old grandmother to move to Dallas.  No time for flirting with a woman I will most probably never lay eyes on again. He closes his eyes and leans back in his seat to think, only to awaken thirty minutes later to Susan’s voice coming over the intercom.

 

“Everyone please buckle your seat belts, we are preparing to land at James City international airport. The weather is 78 degrees, partly cloudy with 5 mile per hour winds. We hope you have enjoyed your flight with us. Please stay seated until we have come to a complete stop and the seat belt sign is off.”

 

As they file off of the plane one by one, Bo tries to figure out in which direction the rent-a-car center is.  As he steps up to the desk, the clerk, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else, says, “Yes, sir, how can I help you?”

 

“I need to rent a car,” says Bo.

 

“Of course, you need to rent a car,” replies the man, “why else would you be standing in front of me?” “Is there any preference that you have?”

 

“No,” replies Bo, shocked by the rudeness of this fellow.

 

“Ok, well, sign here, here, here, and here, initial here, and how long will you need the car?”

 

“One week,” replies Bo as he signs the contract.

 

The discontent rent-a-car man hands Bo a set of keys and tells him the directions out to the rentals lot. “It’s in slot 107,” says the man.

 

Bo gives a nod and walks quickly in the direction of his car. When he gets to slot 107, he sulks his head when he sees the pink beetle and checks the emblem on his keys. “Volkswagen” he says aloud. “A pink beetle? This is ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. How dare he give me a pink beetle!” And then he remembers the man asking if he had any preferences to which he replied “no”.

 

Stomping his foot on the ground, he pops open the trunk and tosses in his luggage, slams it shut, and plops down into the driver seat. “This is the tiniest car ever!” he shouts to himself as he moves the seat all the way back as far as it will go. “Well, here goes nothing,” he says as he starts it up and pulls out of the parking lot.

 

 

 

Back at the bakery, Katherine is beating Dylan Jones away with a broomstick after selling him two more loaves of banana bread to make sure he does not need to come back for any reason for at least two more days.

 

“Sheesh,” she says to Becky, “do you think he will ever get the hint?”

 

“Oh, he probably just thinks you are trying to play hard to get. I don’t think that boy will understand anything other than ‘Dylan, I wouldn’t date you even if you buy every loaf of banana bread I make for an entire year.’

 

They laugh hysterically as Sally comes in late, again, for her shift.

 

“I’m so sorry, girls,” Sally says. “I am just a mess today, my head has been killing me all morning. I’m getting light-headed and dizzy, I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

 

“Sally, you should have called,” replies Katherine.

 

“Oh Katherine, I know, I’m sorry I was just in a rush to get here…”

 

“No, no, no,” says Katherine, “you should have called in to say that you wouldn’t be here today because you are ill. Take the day off to rest. Make a doctor’s appointment to find out what’s the matter, hun, it doesn’t sound too good.”

 

“I wouldn’t want to leave Becky short-handed here all day, I have to bake the muffins and start four more pies, order more cream.”

 

“Sally,” says Katherine in a stern motherly tone, “go home, lie down, and call Dr. Meyers. Those are boss’s orders.”

 

“But what about Becky?” asks Sally.

 

“I will stay here and help her until you are well. It’s no problem, I promise. Now go on before you get the whole lot of us sick,” she says with a grin.

 

 

 

Bo makes his way all the way down highway 79 until he sees nothing but rolling hills, trees and flowers. “It is especially peaceful out here,” he thinks to himself as he drives along the quiet, empty highway.  After a few four way intersections, he sees the large old wooden sign “Welcome to Little Hill” “The Smallest Town with the Biggest Charm” is engraved on it. You can barely read it from how old and deteriorated it is.

 

As he approaches the town, memories from his childhood come racing back to him. There is the school he went to on the left, with children swinging on the same swing set he once swung on. “Gosh, you would think they would have upgraded that by now,” he says aloud to himself.  Nevertheless, the kids are enjoying it as if it was a state of the art playground. The merry-go-round is still there, kids happily spinning and laughing. It brings him back to a more peaceful time in his life when his days weren’t filled with endless paperwork and arguments to be prepared; instead, just enjoying the fresh air and freedom to play and imagine.

 

 All of the bushes of flowers are the most beautiful things he has seen in years, the yellows and pinks and purples, the bright lush green grass. An overwhelming sense of happiness comes upon him, along with a wide smile across his face.

 

“I know,” Bo says aloud, “I will bring Mammy her favorite peach tea and apple turnover from Mr. Bates’ bake shop. I bet she hasn’t had those in forever. Now stop talking to yourself, Bo.”

 

He pulls up to Bates Bake Shop in his pink Volkswagen beetle and hops out, only to face the reality of the car that he has just pulled up in. Shaking his head still in disbelief at the gall of that man to rent him a pink girly car, he opens the door to the bakery, expecting to see Mr. Bates behind the counter, with his apron on and a towel thrown over his shoulder. Instead he sees Becky, whom he hasn’t seen since high school.

 

“Well I’ll be,” says Becky, “Bo Brogan, whatever have we done to have you grace us small town folk with your presence” as she walks over and gives his hand a tight squeeze.

 

“It’s been way too long, old friend,” Bo replies. Becky and Bo were best friends all through school; Katy, on the other hand, couldn’t stand Bo in all of his arrogance. They did not get on well at all. It wasn’t until after Bo had moved to the city to start college that Becky and Katy became close.

 

 Katy comes walking out from the kitchen and rounds the corner to see Bo standing there in his nice Armani suit and shiny shoes. He is much bigger than she remembers from years ago, his shoulders are much broader and his eyes sparkle just a little. His emerald green eyes go well with his perfectly tan skin and light brown, well-combed hair and his nice tan suit. He doesn’t see her yet, so she stands gazing at him for a few moments before he realizes she is there.

BOOK: Small Town Tango
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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