Missy Tippens - His Forever Love

“You have a point. I guess he’ll have to trust us to watch over her.”

Donna Rae looked away as she slowly dried her hands on a dish towel. “You could help him take care of her. Up there in Boston—one of the places you’ve always wanted to visit, if you recall.”

“Don’t tell me you have pregnancy mush-brain already. This is a record. It’s hitting in the first trimester.”

Donna Rae turned and grabbed Lindsay’s hands, serious all of a sudden. “I have a feeling about this. I’ve always had a strong sense that you two were meant for each other.”

Scary, because whenever Donna Rae had strong “senses,” she was almost always right. Maybe it came from being such a prayer warrior—always in close contact with God. “Why didn’t you ever mention it before?”

“I didn’t want to say anything before it was God’s timing for you two. But ever since you said his name yesterday, I’ve had chills up my back when I think of it.”

“Well, stop it. Your ideas about The Forever Tree and this chill-bump thing, they’re worrying me. Because there’s no way I could ever move up there. I can’t leave Chase and Hunter. They need me.”

Donna Rae sighed, then shook her head. “I know. I guess God will figure it all out if it’s in His plan.”

Plan, my foot. The only important plan at the moment was the one that would keep Granny Bea in Magnolia. “Come on. Let’s go find something to do.”

Donna Rae cackled. “Find something to do?” She snatched a piece of paper from under a magnet on her refrigerator door. “Here’s my ‘Honey Do List.’ Go for it.”

Lindsay took the mile-long list and decided to number the items to prioritize them. When she finished, number one on the list was fix the dripping showerhead in kids’ bathroom. She’d done that at her own house, so she headed outside to Vinny’s workshop to see if he had the right tools. As she tromped back through the kitchen toward the stairs, Donna Rae hollered, “Thanks, honey!”

Cute. Real cute. But at least she had something to occupy her for a few hours.

Bill wanted to throttle Granny. He was beginning to think he’d been totally mistaken. The woman was obviously capable of ordering him around as she went about her daily housework. Maybe she was okay on her own after all.

He glanced at the hastily scrawled directions Granny had given him. He pulled into Donna Rae’s driveway, and Lindsay sat on the front steps, looking perturbed. She didn’t seem any happier once she climbed in his car.

“I’m sorry Granny interrupted what you were doing.”

“It’s okay. I was only helping Donna Rae around the house—doing a little plumbing work. The next item on the list was dusting the ceiling fans, so I guess I should thank you.”

He tried not to smile at the vision of her under a sink with a wrench. “Granny was insistent that you help me pick out the carpet. I guess she doesn’t trust my judgment.”

“We’ve looked at samples before, so she knows I have an idea of what she likes.”

“I called and tried to arrange a day for Arnie’s Carpets to come. They weren’t very helpful. Didn’t have anything open until two weeks out. As it is, I’m afraid I’ll be here a week.”

He thought Lindsay grinned, but then she turned toward the car window as she spoke. “I imagine Molly made the appointment. She might be able to work you in sooner if I’m with you today.”

“No favors for outsiders, huh?”

“You know small towns.”

Boy, did he. That was the reason he’d stayed in Boston. “I told Granny I’d rather call someone in Athens, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She’ll only do business here in town. Said Arnie has done her carpet for thirty years.”

“Your Granny is definitely loyal.” She pointed. “There it is. Pull in the parking lot on the left.”

They parked, then walked in the store. A little bell jingled to announce their presence.

“I’ll be right with you,” called the voice he’d heard earlier on the phone.

“Why don’t you let me talk to Molly. She’s in my quilting group,” Lindsay said.

He didn’t want her thinking he was still a helpless nerd. “I can do this on my own, Lindsay.”

She shook her head.

“But thanks, anyway.”

She held her hand out as if offering him the store. “Fine. Do it your way.” She meandered to nearby sample books and started to flip through one.

A moment later, an attractive young woman came from the back. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“My name’s Bill Wellington. I called earlier.”

“The man from over in Windy Hollow?”

“No, I’m from Boston.”

“Boston, Georgia? Is there such a place?”

“No, ma’am. Boston, Massachusetts.”

“Ah,” she said as if solving a mystery. “You didn’t mention that earlier.”

“I’m here to pick out some carpet for my grandmother. We scheduled an appointment for a couple of weeks out, but I was hoping we could get it installed sooner.”

Her face screwed up as if she was confused. “So it’s for your grandmother?”

“Yes. She lives here in Magnolia. On Main Street. Her name is Bea Wellington.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so sooner? Arnie can probably get out there late next week for her.”

“Thank you.” But it grated on him that an outsider could have such a hard time getting service.

She pointed to the showroom. “Take a look and let me know if you have any questions.”

A few minutes later, as he and Lindsay searched the many books, Molly reappeared. “Oh, hi, Lindsay. When did you get here?”

“I came in with Bill. We’re old friends.”

“Hey, I saw you dropping off Hunter and Chase the other morning. They’ve grown so much and look so much like their daddy—all handsome and cute.” She practically twittered.

It appeared she was very interested in Lindsay’s brother.

“Yes, they’re sweet boys. And they’re like my own now.”

Molly’s smile dimmed a bit. He detected some animosity, at least from Lindsay’s side.

“I think I’ve found some carpet that will work nicely.” He pointed to a commercial grade, low-pile carpet in a neutral color. “It’s inexpensive since we’ll be selling Granny’s house.”

Molly gasped. “She’s selling her house? No way.”

“No way is right,” Lindsay said. “She’ll sell someday, of course. But I’d rather her buy something nice for now. Something she can enjoy in her old age.” She glared a final warning at him as she flipped open a sample book and pointed to a plush carpet in a pale shade of green—Granny’s favorite color.

“Fine. We’ll compromise. Molly, we’ll have the plush carpet but in a neutral beige color that will sell well.” He pointed to a color in Lindsay’s book called Wheat.

For a second, he thought he saw tears in Lindsay’s eyes. But it had to have been the lighting, because the next time she glared at him, they were gone.

Molly looked from him, to Lindsay, then back to him. Apparently, she decided he was the decision maker in the situation, because she wrote up the order. He checked to make sure she’d written Wheat instead of Thicket. She had. But she didn’t look comfortable doing it.

“Okay. We have you set for next Thursday for the carpet installation. Someone will be out to measure on Monday.”

“Thank you,” he said.

The clerk looked to Lindsay. “I’m sorry about the green, Lindsay.”

“It’s not your fault, Molly.” She walked out the door of the store.

He found her outside in his rental car. He opened his mouth and nearly said he was sorry, but then forced it shut. He felt awful, though.

He really did need to get over the guilt of leaving Lindsay so long ago. He couldn’t allow it to color his decisions.