J Stanley - The Battered Body

“I guess journalism is a cutthroat business, even in a small town,” James replied without sympathy.

To his surprise Lottie declared, “Well, this reporter is moving to a new small town. I still want to work at a newspaper, but not if I lose everyone I care about in the process.”

“Where are you going?”

Lottie smiled. “To Warren County. It’s far enough away that I won’t offend people in this town anymore, but close enough for me to see Scott. That is, if he’ll see me.”

“You moved for Scott’s sake?” James was impressed. Maybe there was more to Lottie than he thought.

“Is he here?” She looked around nervously. “I’ve got something for him before I go.”

James pointed to the section of audiobooks. “He’s putting some new materials on the shelves. You can’t see him from here because he’s deep in the stacks, probably busy in the nonfiction section.”

As Lottie moved off, James saw Mrs. Waxman removing a pair of galoshes in the lobby. “All that melting snow! It makes such a mess,” she said as she breezed past the security gate. “And it’s supposed to drop below the freezing mark tonight. I certainly hope the sun comes out for Milla’s big day tomorrow.”

“Me too. I’m going to check weather.com before I leave.” James darted back to his office and examined the local forecast for the upcoming weekend. He was interested in the freeze warnings, but he was also reticent to leave Scott without knowing whether the young man would need someone to talk to. Francis was off on an office-supply run and probably wouldn’t return for another half an hour, so if Scott required a sympathetic listener, James was it.

Relieved to discover the sun was supposed to make an early appearance the next day, James read some uninteresting e-mails and was just about to shut down his computer when Scott entered the room. Smiling, he pointed at the red gift bag.

“Look who came back to us, Professor!” He whipped Glowstar out of the bag with a flourish. “He’s had quite an adventure! Hey, that could be a cool video game. Where’s the Elf? A Holiday Scavenger Hunt. I’ll have to bat the idea around with Francis.”

“I’m very glad to lay eyes on our resident elf again,” James answered, searching Scott’s face. “But I’m more pleased to see you happy. It hasn’t been the easiest winter for you.”

Scott collapsed into one of the chairs facing James’s desk. “You and me both.” He dug around inside the bag again. “Lottie asked for a second chance, Professor. And you know, I’m going to give it to her. I really, really like her, despite how she’s acted.” He shrugged. “We’re in our twenties. That’s when people are supposed to make big mistakes while they’re figuring out what kind of lives they want to lead, right?”

James laughed. “I don’t think there’s an age cap on mistakes, Scott. But if you truly care about her, then you’ve made a good decision.”

“Thanks, Professor. I knew I’d have your support.” He pried the lid off a box of chocolates and offered them to James. “Lottie and Willow have been hanging out lately. Willow taught her how to make truffles. Awesome, huh? Want one?”

It took a masterful effort for James to shake his head. “I’d better not. When I saw Dr. Ruth yesterday, I was two pounds heavier than when I first met with her.”

“Well, you have been through the wringer, Professor. So you ate a pizza or a piece of cake here and there. It’s not like you did drugs or turned to liquor when things got tough.”

Smiling, James said, “That’s pretty much what Dr. Ruth said. Besides, I plan to get back on track. I am totally motivated. I want to be able to chase Eliot around the yard in the spring, dash through the sprinkler in the summer, and dive into big piles of leaves in the fall.”

“Ah, speaking of time flying.” Scott gestured at his watch. “I know you’ve got someplace to be and that you were just waiting to see if I was all right. Thank you for that, Professor.”

“You can make it up to me tomorrow. Buy Lottie’s Valentine’s gift from Quincy’s Whimsies!” James said, threw on his coat, and drove half a mile to Milla’s new store. He parked right in front and knocked on the locked door.

Willow opened it a crack and whispered, “Milla just got here. She went to visit her sister in the prison hospice again.”

“She’s a saint,” James murmured. “Did she read to her again?”

“Yes. Walt Whitman and the Bible. Wheezie’s been speaking to Reverend Emerson too. There’s been a lot of talk between the three of them about forgiveness. So there you have it. Milla’s a saint and a magician. Wait until I turn on all the lights and then you can see for yourself.”

James turned his back to allow Willow to make her preparations. “Come in, darling!” Milla’s voice called out and James stepped into a fantasy land.

His first impression was of rainbows. The entire ceiling had been covered by lengths of gauzy fabric in vibrant colors and the carpet below was awash in pools of colored light. Plain white shelves were stocked with beautiful handmade pottery, candles, and luxurious bath products. A picnic table to the left of the entrance was covered with Valentine’s Day-themed gift baskets for men, women, and children. As James moved deeper into the store, he noticed that Milla had decided to incorporate a section of locally crafted toys. He ran his palm over a hand-carved wooden train, a checkerboard, and a display of puzzles featuring several popular children’s names.

On a wall above the toys hung darling artist smocks, bibs, and burp cloths. The children’s apparel merged into a beautiful assortment of aprons, tea towels, and embroidered hand towels. Floral and toile oven mitts and potholders came next, and it wasn’t until James wove his way back to the center of the store that he noticed the lengthy glass case stuffed with candy, jams, and sauces.

“I knew I smelled chocolate!” he said, inhaling the divine scent.

“Free samples for our first fifty customers!” Milla trilled and handed James a plastic bag tied with a pink ribbon containing several chocolate hearts.

James embraced his stepmother. “This place is magical! You did it, Milla! No one will be able to resist this store!”

“I hope not,” Milla replied with a twinkle in her eye. “Because my life’s savings is invested in this place. But it’ll be worth every cent when I see my grandson’s face when he comes through that door.”

“Then you’d better look sharp,” Willow warned. “I see the Volvo pulling into a parking space.”

“Oh my stars!” Milla patted her puffy hair, touched her pink-flushed cheeks, and smoothed her apron, which was covered by red hearts on a field of chocolate brown.

Jane and Eliot slowly opened the front door and craned their necks as they tried to absorb all the colors and products around them. Eliot bypassed the gifts and toys and headed right for the candy counter.

“Grandma!” he yelled. “Is all this candy yours?”

Milla chuckled as she gathered the boy in her arms. “No, dear. Grandma’s selling it. But you can have a small bag of whatever candy you want.” She looked over Eliot’s head at Jane. “I’ll let your mama decide how much you can eat before dinner.”

Eliot jumped up and down in excitement and then instantly grew still as he examined the selection of truffles, heart-shaped chocolates, rock-candy lollipops, toffee bites, chocolate-dipped strawberries and apricots, and oversized conversation hearts. “I like the hearts with the words, Grandma.”

“One order of hearts with words coming right up!” Milla buried a silver scoop into the tray of hearts and dropped the pastel candies into a bag. As she prepared to tie the sack with the store’s signature pink ribbon, Eliot ran behind the counter and cried, “Wait!”