Your Heart's Desire Page 5

  Caroline blinked and nodded. “I’m sorry. You probably wanted out.”

  “No hurry.” The older woman stuck out a gloved hand. “I’m Mrs. Pruitt.”

  Caroline introduced herself, gathered her purse, and stood up, moving out of the way so the others in the pew could make their exit. But instead of leaving with them, Caroline remained behind, slipping into an empty pew in order to simply stare at the window…to absorb its beauty. Surely, no one would mind.

  “I see we meet again,” a vaguely familiar male voice said from behind her.

  She turned around to see the stranger from the coffee shop smiling in amusement at her. At first she thought she was imagining things, and for a brief moment she wondered if this was part of last night’s dream. Did he have a yellow convertible for her to repair?

  Determined to remain poised, she smiled politely. “I was just admiring this gorgeous window.” She turned her attention back to the glowing glass.

  “It is beautiful. Especially this time of day. And this time of year the light angle is perfect. It really makes the color come alive. There are seventeen different shades of green in that window, and nearly that much of the blue tones, too.”

  “Spoken like an artist.” She peered curiously at him. “Or at least someone with an appreciation for art.”

  He nodded with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve always loved looking at it.”

  “Oh, there you are, Terry.” A strikingly attractive blond woman hurried toward them. Dressed in a pale pink linen suit and pearls, she looked like a cover girl for Vogue magazine. Or maybe a film star. “The Buckaroos are waiting for you. I promised them I’d round you up.” She glanced curiously at Caroline. “Sorry to steal him from you, but believe me, those young men can get impatient. I was getting worried that they were getting ready to string me up.” She smiled as she stuck out her hand to Caroline. “I’m Evelyn Stuart. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “I’m Caroline Clark.” She nervously shook the woman’s hand. “Please, don’t let me keep you.”

  “Yes. Thanks. Come on, Terry,” Evelyn urged. “The natives are restless.”

  “Excuse me,” he said as Evelyn tugged him away.

  Not wanting to appear as if she was following them, Caroline remained put. As she stared up at the window, she wondered that this Terry person didn’t introduce himself, but then he’d hardly had the chance when Evelyn had pulled him off like that. Caroline studied the window. Did it really have seventeen shades of green? No matter, it would be just as pretty with sixteen. Although it didn’t seem quite as breathtaking as it had before. Maybe the sunlight had shifted or a cloud had dimmed the light.

  “Mom?”

  Caroline turned to see Joseph coming toward her. For some reason she felt extremely delighted to see him. Her little man! “Oh, there you are,” she said as she embraced him, holding him tightly.

  “Are you okay?” he asked when she finally let him go.

  She smiled down at him. “I’m perfectly fine.” She gestured to the window. “I was just enjoying the view in here. You were absolutely right, the windows here are very pretty.”

  He looked up and nodded, and for a long moment they both just stood there gazing at it.

  “Did you enjoy Sunday school?” she asked as they started to leave the sanctuary.

  “I wasn’t sure at first, but then I decided I did like it.”

  “Good.” She paused in the foyer, trying to remember which was the way out.

  “Can I become a Buckaroo?” he asked.

  “What exactly is a Buckaroo?”

  “It’s kind of like Boy Scouts, but it’s part of this church. First off, you have to be a boy, and you got to be at least ten years old, and have your parents’ permission.”

  “But you’re not ten yet.” She tried the biggest door, giving it a push; she saw daylight outside. She was eager to be back in the sunshine…to regain her balance.

  “I’m almost ten,” he reminded her as he helped pull open the heavy door. “It won’t be long until I’m ten.”

  “Then maybe you should ask me about the Buckaroos in early February.” She put her arm around his shoulders as they went down the exterior steps. “It’ll be here before you know it.”

  “Then can we come back here next Sunday?” he asked eagerly.

  “You really want to?”

  “Yeah!” He nodded eagerly. “I made a friend. Jimmy Rolland. And he told me I’ll go to the same school as him.”

  “How does Jimmy Rolland know that?”

  “’Cause I told him where we live. Well, not exactly, because I don’t know our new address exactly. But I told him the street name and stuff. And he said I will probably go to McKinley Elementary just like him. And he said school starts up on Wednesday, the day after New Year’s Day.”

  “That’s actually correct. All of it.”

  “See, I told you Jimmy knew.”

  “Jimmy sounds like a smart boy.”

  “And he doesn’t live very far away from Aunt Marjorie’s,” Joseph continued.

  “That’s convenient.” As they walked, she couldn’t stop thinking about the stranger named Terry. At least that’s what she thought Evelyn had called him. “Do you know who leads the Buckaroos?” Caroline asked a bit timidly as they came up to their apartment.

  “Jimmy said his name is Terry. But not like a girl Terry. A guy Terry.”

  “Uh-huh.” She removed her hat, pausing to study its very conservative design. It looked like something an old lady would wear. But for some reason she hadn’t cared before.

  “And Jimmy said he’s going to call me Joe.” Joseph paused to look at her. “Is that okay? I mean if Jimmy calls me Joe?”

  She smiled down at him. “That’s completely up to you, dear.”

  “I know that was Dad’s name. You called him Joe, and you called me Joseph so you wouldn’t mix us up. But since Dad’s…well, gone, you wouldn’t mix us up anymore.”

  Caroline felt a lump in her throat as she leaned down to hug her son. “You’re right. I wouldn’t mix you up, Joseph. But you are very much like your dad. And for that I am thankful.”

  He hugged her back, then looked earnestly into her eyes. “So, if it’s okay, I’ll be Joe now. And when I go to my new school, everyone will call me Joe Clark. Okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.” She removed her jacket. “But you’ll have to be patient with me if I forget and still call you Joseph sometimes.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. Moms can do that.”

  “Hello down there?” Rich’s voice called from up above. “Anybody home?”

  “We’re here,” Joseph called brightly as he dashed up the stairs. No, not Joseph anymore—except for her and only if she forgot—but Joe. Just like his dad. Just Joe. Joe Clark. Yes, it sounded right for a young man. And yes, she thought she could remember that, too.

  “Uncle Rich wants to take me and Danny to the park,” Joe announced when he returned. “Can I go?”

  “Of course.” And she didn’t even bother to tell him to change out of his church clothes first, because he was already peeling them off as he sprinted to his bedroom.

  As she changed back into her dungarees and work shirt, she felt like she had made the right decision coming here. Joseph—make that Joe—seemed happy. He seemed like he was already making a good adjustment. He’d made a friend and was eager about school. Now if only she could find a job…a way to keep him here.

  To distract herself from fretting over her employment prospects, she rolled up her sleeves and went to work unpacking the rest of her boxes, putting things in place, and even using the leftover yellow paint to paint the few small walls of the kitchen. The black cat clock would look much sharper against the lemon-yellow paint color. Seeing that it was nearly two, she figured it was a good time to stop. Rich would probably be back with the boys soon.

  She was just in the side yard, cleaning the yellow paint out of the paintbrush, when Marjorie came around the corner. “There y
ou are, Sis.”

  “Hi, Marjorie.” Caroline stood up straight, smiling at her sister. She looked sweet in a blue-and-white-striped dress. “You look as fresh as a daisy!”

  “And you look like a mess.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sorry.” Marjorie patted her midsection. “I just wanted to wear this dress once more before I got too big for it. Looks like you’ve been painting.”

  “I have. Thanks so much for that leftover paint. It was perfect.”

  “Oh, good.” Marjorie patted a yawn. “I was about to lie down, but Rich called.”

  “Oh, no, is something wrong?”

  “Not at all. He and the boys were having such a grand time, he decided to take them to the beach.”

  “To the beach?” Caroline felt worried.

  “Rich said that Joseph really wanted to see the ocean, and they weren’t that far away. And it’s such an incredibly nice day. Believe it or not, our December weather isn’t always like this. And it probably won’t last long, either. Anyway, Rich was excited to see Joseph’s face when he saw the ocean for the first time.”

  Caroline wanted to say she would’ve enjoyed that, too, but simply dropped the clean paintbrush down to the grass to dry. “Well, that was very nice of Rich. I appreciate it. I know Joe—that’s what he wants to be called now, Joe, not Joseph—anyway, he must be over the moon.”

  “And the best news is that they probably won’t be home until dinnertime. Oh, yeah, Rich got the boys hot dogs. And he told me, Danny said he would take a nap on the beach.” She laughed. “I’ll just bet he will.”

  “Well, at least he’ll be tired when he gets home. You can give him a bath and put him to bed.”

  “Sounds lovely. And now, while Lulu’s napping, I shall catch some winks myself. We had such a great time last night. Stayed out too late. But you only live once, right?”

  Caroline wiped her hands on the back of her dungarees.

  “And I want to come down and see whether my sister is a good painter,” Marjorie called over her shoulder as she walked away.

  “Anytime,” Caroline called back.

  As she went back inside the apartment, she realized that the boys’ beach trip was benefiting her with more time to finish things up. If she worked fast, who knew how much she could get done. Her friends who were full-time housewives sometimes marveled at what Caroline was able to accomplish. Caroline never said as much, but she attributed it to being a career woman. You learned to make every minute count.

  She pulled out the upholstery fabric she’d fallen in love with yesterday. It was a pleasant print in clean shades of yellow, green, and aqua blue. She had planned to use it for a slipcover for the sad, worn sofa and perhaps some curtains for the small window on the front wall. On closer inspection of the sofa, she realized that she could create a slipcover simply by cutting, wrapping, and tucking the fabric. As a result, she was able to camouflage the unattractive piece with very little sewing. But while she had her sewing machine out, she whipped up a pair of curtains as well. They weren’t fancy, but the colors were cheery, and the privacy was welcome. Now she unrolled the large braided rug she’d found at the secondhand store yesterday. It was mostly shades of green…and that made her stop and think of what Terry had said about the stained-glass window. Seventeen shades of green.

  Not that she wanted to think about him. Although it was hard not to. Because really, what were the chances of meeting the same attractive man two days in a row like that? As well as having a conversation? What could it possibly mean? Probably nothing! For all she knew the lovely Evelyn was Terry’s wife. And they both appeared to be in their mid-thirties, which usually meant married. And even if they weren’t married, what difference did it make? Caroline was not looking for a man. Like she always told everyone, she was content to be single for the rest of her days. No one could replace Joe. Besides, she had little Joe to think of. And she needed to remain focused on him, providing for him.

  By four o’clock, she was tweaking and moving things. Playing house. She added a couple of new throw pillows she’d found on sale yesterday. Covered in a spring-green-checked fabric, they looked fabulous with the new slipcover on the sofa. She pulled out the afghan she’d crocheted during the war, draping it over the back of the old rocker that had come with the apartment. Its stripes of varying shades of green seemed to add life to the old chair. She dug out the few pictures she’d brought with her, hanging them on some existing nails until she located a hammer. Then she played with the secondhand-store lamps, trying them out everywhere until she set the floor lamp by the rocker and the table lamp on the end table by the sofa. Perfect.

  When she finally finished, the place looked pretty good—bright and clean and cheery. She’d even hung her favorite yellow towels in the bathroom, admiring the color contrast against the aqua blue. And she’d laid down the colorful rag rug her mother had given her a few years ago. The room looked clean and bright now—her son would no longer need to be fearful in here.

  She took a quick shower; then, as she laid out some things for their dinner, she turned on the radio she’d set on top of the refrigerator. It was the same set she and Joe had purchased during the first year of their marriage. She turned the tuner until she heard the familiar sweet strains of the Glenn Miller Orchestra playing “Little Brown Jug.” She knew that Glen Miller, like her Joe, had not made it home, but for a refreshing change, his music did not make her sad tonight. Instead, she felt surprisingly lighthearted as she lit the gas flame beneath her old copper teakettle and got out the makings for tea. Home sweet home.

  Chapter 6

  Yoo-hoo?” Marjorie’s voice called down the stairs just as the kettle started to whistle. “Anybody home?”

  “Hello,” Caroline called back. She glanced at the cat clock to see it was a bit after five now. “Is Rich back yet?”

  “Not yet,” Marjorie answered. “Can Lulu and I come down to see your painting progress?”

  “Yes, of course.” Caroline ran to meet her. “Here, let me take Lulu for you. These stairs are steep. Be careful.”

  “Thanks.” Marjorie surrendered the baby. “I really do hate these steps. Rich had talked about changing them, but we’ve been so busy. To be honest, Rich has been feeling guilty about putting you and Joseph—I mean Joe—down here. He’d hoped to have more than just the bedrooms cleaned, but—what on earth?” Marjorie stood at the bottom of the steps just staring with a shocked expression. “Are you kidding me?”

  Caroline couldn’t help but laugh. “It looks a little better, eh?”

  “Did you do this? All by yourself?” Marjorie went over to the bright sofa, picking up a pillow and examining it. “This is really pretty.”

  “I found those at Fuller’s Department Store yesterday,” Caroline explained. “Marked down for their year-end sale.”

  “I can’t believe you did all this.” Marjorie continued walking around, studying everything and commenting in disbelief. “How did you do all this?”

  “With a little planning and a lot of hard work.” Caroline set Lulu down while she filled her teapot with hot water. “Care for a cup of tea?”

  “This is just amazing.” Marjorie peeked into the bathroom. “Truly amazing!”

  “Joe helped me paint that room.”

  “But it’s all so clean and orderly and pretty.” Marjorie returned to the little kitchen area, picking up Lulu. “Did you know your auntie is a miracle worker?” she said to Lulu.

  Caroline set the rooster teapot and matching cups and saucers on the table, then returned with a small plate of wafer cookies. “Sorry I didn’t have time to bake.” She giggled.

  “I am just stunned.” Marjorie continued looking around the room as she sat in the kitchen chair. “Utterly stunned.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t that hard.” Caroline quickly described some of the things she’d done, trying to play down how much work it had been or how she’d stayed up late last night after Marjorie and Rich got home, working on it.

 
“But you did all this in less than three days. I have been in my new house for a month now and it doesn’t look nearly as nice as this.”

  “Of course, it does.” Caroline poured their tea as Marjorie broke a cookie in half for Lulu. “Besides that, you’ve had your hands full with two little ones. I honestly don’t know how you managed to paint those rooms with—”

  “Rich’s mother watched the kids for me. For almost two weeks. And the most I accomplished was to paint two rooms. Rich’s dad did all the rest of the painting.” Marjorie looked somewhat upset.

  “But you sewed curtains and—”

  “But there’s so much more to do. Our house looks so bare and boring compared to this, Caroline. It’s not fair.”

  Caroline laughed as she reached for a cookie. “Your house is about six times bigger than this. It should take at least six times longer to fill it up.”

  “But everywhere I look—it’s just so perfect. Everything looks like it belongs together. It’s so warm and inviting. My house will never look like this.”

  “Don’t forget that Joe and I were married more than ten years ago. I’ve still got our wedding gifts, and over the years I’ve collected other household items. Give yourself time, Margie.”

  Marjorie let out a sad sigh. “I don’t want Rich to see this,” she said quietly. “He’ll think that I’ve been lazy.”

  Caroline laughed heartily at this. “I seriously doubt that. Chasing after two little ones, pregnant with the third, I don’t think that’s exactly lazy.”

  “You should get married again,” Marjorie said suddenly.

  “Married?” Caroline set her cup down. “Where did that come from?”

  “Well, look at how domestic you are. I mean, here I’ve always thought of you as this career girl, but you have a very domestic side to you, too. You would make someone a good wife.”

  Caroline chuckled. “Perhaps I think there is more to life than being a good wife.”

  “But you’re thirty-one,” Marjorie reminded her. “If you don’t get married soon, you’ll be too old to have more children. And think about it—if you hurried up and got married, you could have a baby not too long after I have mine. The cousins could play together and—”