Beyond The Storm Part 2

"Look, lady. I can see you're getting a little hot under the collar."

Lady? He'd interrupted her to call her . . . Lady? It might have been the humidity. It might have been a touch of sleep deprivation. Then again, it might have been a pinch of PMS. Whatever the cause, Abigail was in no mood for this clown. "You bet I am, buddy! This whole thing got dumped on me, and it's been a pain in my neck since day one, okay? Last week, it was the salsa guy, recalling the salsa because of e-coli! Before that it was the price of-"

"Okay. I can see we're not gonna get anywhere over the phone."

Again, with the interrupting! Abigail's lips screwed into a wad of agitation. Was he even listening to her? Shocking herself-as well as him, she suspected-Abigail slammed the phone down. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her shears off the lobby table and welcomed Guadalupe Lopez to follow her back to her chair. Eyes wide, Guadalupe folded her magazine and stood. "You're not going to take your frustration out on my hair, are you?"

"Phone ringing," Isuzu called from where she bent over Kaylee Johnson's bridal nails.

"Don't answer it." A glance at caller I.D. told Abigail it was one Mr. Justin Girard calling, and she was too embarra.s.sed to pick up, so she smiled in the mirror at Guadalupe Lopez instead. "What are we doing for you today?"

"Something short, but stylish. My daughter, Elsa, wants you to make me look like a glamour puss, okay?"

Abigail gave her the thumbs up. This would be distracting. Guadalupe was short, stocky, middle-aged and just this side of frumpy. "You'll be ready for your close-up."

Guadalupe jiggled when she giggled. No wonder Aunt Selma loved working with her at Quilty Pleasure, Abigail mused. She had this wonderful, huge laugh that made Abigail smile. And today? That was saying something.

Justin fumed as he spun the screwdriver in circles on his desktop and waited for the crazy Ms. Durham to pick up. He had no idea who this broad was, but she must have had a bowl of rusty nails for breakfast. "h.e.l.lo, this is Abigail Durham at the Doo Drop-In Hair Salon. I'm with a customer right now, so if you'll leave your name, number, and the best time to call, I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

He hung up and hit redial. Message machine. Again. This was a business. She could hardly take her phone off the hook. So, fine. Two could play this game. He'd just keep calling until she went berserk. Or answered the phone. Either way was fine with him.

"Phone ringing." There was irritation in Isuzu's tone.

"Don't answer it."

"Okay." Abigail could hear Isuzu's heels tap in irritation across the room where she picked up the phone. "Doo Drop-In and Zu-Zu Nail. I help you?"

"Zuzu! I said don't!" Abby hissed.

"Easy on the hair." Guadalupe giggled. "My daughter just won concert tickets on the radio, and she's taking me out next Sat.u.r.day night. So . . . I'll need hair."

Isuzu's voice took on a distinctive purr. "Oh, yes. I remember you. Yes. Yes, she very sorry and want to speak to you right now. Abby, Mr. Girard on line one." The light on the phone in her hair cubicle began to flash. She'd kill Isuzu later. Finger aloft, Abigail smiled at Guadalupe. "One moment," she whispered and winked.

Guadalupe held up both hands. "Take your time. All the time you need."

Abigail s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from the cradle, and growled, "h.e.l.lo?"

"So, I have about an hour this afternoon to sit down with you, show you what the inspector said, and give you some ideas I have for getting around the whole awnings issue." The fact that she could tell he was grinning only served to agitate her more.

"Where?" she asked, tone clipped.

"Why don't you meet me at Dan-the-Handyman? There is a little hardware store in front of the lumberyard?"

"I know where it is. What time?"

"I'll be locking up for Dan Strohacker tonight. He's got an ultrasound up near the hospital in Southshire with his wife after work tonight, so . . . six?"

"Fine."

Justin smiled at his phone as he dropped it into the cradle. This town was filled with some pretty interesting women. He wondered what this one looked like.

"Abby? She's cute. Kinda reminds me of a tall Tinker Bell."

Justin laughed at Dan Strohacker's description of Abigail Durham. They were outside in Dan's lumberyard and had just finished loading Justin's truck for a job he was starting today. If Justin trusted anybody's take on another person, it was Dan's. In the time he'd known him, Dan had never said a bad word about anybody. But he was a great judge of character. What he had to say about people went a long way toward helping you understand exactly who they were.

Dan was a great big teddy bear of a guy. An ex-marine, he was intimidating to look at with his meaty fists, barrel chest, silvery military buzz cut, and salt and pepper goatee, but on the inside? Dan was pudding. Rescue pet commercials on TV would regularly reduce him to tears, and if you were in need, you could always count on Dan to give you not only the shirt off his back but also the rest of the outfit, including his shoes.

"Tinker Bell, huh? You sure you don't mean pit-bull? She doesn't bite, does she?"

Dan rested his forearms on Justin's tailgate and squinted. "Not that I know of. Why?"

Justin dabbed at his temples with his wrist. Man, it was hot. He couldn't understand how a big guy like Danny could look so cool. Must be the fact that he grew up in this sauna. As he squinted off in the distance behind the lumberyard, the panorama was so flat, Justin thought he could see the earth's curve in the horizon. Spring wheat crops were just beginning to fuzz the ground and irrigation sprinklers shot water in an arc like the swish, swish, swishing tail of a horse. Cicadas whined in a high-pitched drone the way electricity charged across power lines, and overhead the sky that had been so blue only an hour ago, had taken on a hazy quality.

Turning his attention back to Danny, Justin gave his shoulders a jerk. "We had a little tiff on the phone today. She wasn't happy about the new awning codes for the food cart. I don't think I can get her permits in time for the Quilt Fair's Rawston Taste, and she was bent out of shape. Sounds like the boosters are low on dough."

"That's why you donate the labor and I donate the wood, my friend."

"She didn't exactly come across as grateful," Justin grumbled and pulled off his leather gloves and slapped them on his thigh. "What's her story, anyway?"

"Sorta hard to explain in just a few minutes, but she had it kind of rough, growing up. She was in my youth group at church. Always asked me a lot of the questions a kid would normally ask her dad." Dan pushed away from the tailgate of the truck, pulled his own gloves off and tucked them into the back waistband of his jeans. "She was raised by a single mom. Karen Durham's not that much older'n me. Late forties to early fifties. Lives in California now. Abby's daddy left on her eleventh birthday, which I get the feeling she never got over. He sold TV's and stereos out there at Dave's World on Fisher's Mill Road. Still lives on the other side of town, but as far as I know, Abigail never sees him. Even after all these years, she's havin' a hard time forgiving him."

"What'd he do, tell her he couldn't put an awning on her doll house?" Justin smirked.

Danny laughed as he plucked a red plastic flag from a cardboard box and tied it to the end of the longest board sticking out over Justin's tailgate. "Wish it was that simple. Nah, I know Dave is the first one to admit he made mistakes. He's been a guest speaker at our men's Bible study more than once, so it's pretty common knowledge that he used to be a bit of a player. Ran around on Karen and ended up fathering a child with the kid he hired to clean the stereo shop after school. Was quite a scandal."

"Ouch. No wonder she's mad."

"I know this sounds nuts, but Dave's a real good guy. He was another one with a rough childhood. Those things can be a generational coil. Old Dave started going to church and cleaned up his act, but Abby doesn't trust him anymore."

"Can't blame her."

"You ever hear the saying about not forgiving someone is like drinking poison and waiting for the other guy to die?"

Justin smiled and shook his head. "Can't say that I have."

"That's why Abigail can be a tad edgy sometimes. Dave has tried to mend the fence more than once, but she suffered because of him. Now, she wants him to suffer."

"She's good at what she does," Justin said sardonically.

"Maybe, but I don't think it gives her joy or peace, because she's regularly in tears after a good sermon on forgiveness, when she manages to show up at church. Give her a chance. She's been a great friend to Jen over the years. She's an amazing woman, and the good Lord isn't done with her yet, I'm sure. Worked her way through beauty college. Built her business all by herself. Even bought the building and at only twenty-eight, that's an accomplishment. She's funny and creative and sharp as a whip. But there's something else. When you meet her, you'll notice it. She draws people to her. Even complete strangers. She's a little like a flame that way. And the rest of us? Moths."

"Just so I don't end up on the grill of her rig." Justin climbed in his truck, slammed the door, and left Danny standing in the parking lot laughing.

3.

10:00 a.m.

Oh, thank heavens you're here!" Abigail rushed to greet Jen Strohacker as she entered the salon.

Jen smiled in confusion as she waddled back to Abigail's chair for some high and low lights and a good cut. Once the baby came, she'd told Abigail, the Lord only knew when she'd find time to get back. "Is my hair that bad?"

Abigail laughed. "No, no. I just have some stuff going on with the booster club's food cart, and I need to pick your brain about something."

"Oh. Sure. Shoot." Jen grabbed the arms of the chair and, with some awkward maneuvers, lowered herself into the seat.

"Do you know somebody named Justin Girard?"

"Justin? Oh, yeah. He's probably Danny's closest friend."

"Danny? Our Danny? Your Danny?"

Jen laughed at the sour expression on Abigail's face. "You've met?"

"The food cart guy? No. And, I'm thinking I don't want to."

"Oh, then you're missing out. He's a great guy." Jen was as easy-going as she was beautiful. She owned Tantastic, a tanning shop about a mile away in the strip mall, and they shared a lot of the same clients. Abigail set to work, digging Jen's hair colors out of her cabinet. "So, he's not one of those contractors who takes the money but doesn't finish the job, huh?"

Jen blew a raspberry. "Justin? No. He's put a lot of work into that thing. And to think, he donated all of his labor-"

Abigail froze. "He . . . donated it?"

"You didn't know that?"

"No!" Her eyes slid closed and she groaned. "I took my permit frustrations out on him. Ohhh, I am such a loser."

Jen grinned. "He'll forgive you."

Abigail snorted. "So how come you know this guy so well and I've never met him?"

"I'm surprised you don't know him. He goes to first service at our church."

Abigail colored. No wonder she hadn't met him. She never went to first service and rarely went to second. "Oh. So, where'd he come from?"

"Well, hmm. He's originally from the East Coast, but he's got some family out here. Grandparents, I think. Last Christmas, Danny and I met his mom and dad and they're really sweet. He's got . . . uh . . . two brothers, both married with kids. We haven't known him quite a year yet, but I think he's become the younger brother that Danny always wanted but never had."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot. Danny's an only child, like me." Abigail didn't count the fact that she had an eighteen-year-old half-sister out there, somewhere. They didn't run in the same circles.

"Mm. And you know what's weird about that? Both of Dan's parents were only children. And now, most likely," she patted her belly, "this guy will be an only child. I'm pretty sure that's why Danny married me. I come from a big family."

"That and the fact that you're a babe," Abigail teased. It was true. Jen was a tall, willowy beauty. At over forty, she was still turning heads. "You're the youngest, right?"

"Of eight. Danny was Brett's-my older brother's-best friend when we were kids." Jen's gaze followed Abigail's hands as she set up a veritable chemistry lab.

"I think that's what Danny has always wanted more than anything else, beside his relationship with Jesus and with me. Family. A family of his own."

Abigail nodded. Danny was renowned for his two pa.s.sions. Jesus and Jen. He carried his bright red Bible everywhere and knew it frontward and back. And he could tell you the coolest stories and trivia. If he'd been so inclined, Danny was probably the only guy she knew that could carry a Bible into a bar for a meeting of the atheist society and have everyone fascinated and clamoring for more by the end of the evening. Abigail didn't attend church as often as she should, but when Danny subbed for the regular pastor, she never missed.

"Looks like it won't be long before he gets that family, huh?" Abigail said, referring to Jen's advanced pregnancy as she worked.

"Doctor says I'm due in a little over two weeks, but it could be any time."

"You guys must be excited."

"Over the moon. You don't wait so long for something like this without getting a little stupid. You should see the baby's room, and I'm still not done. In fact, I'm going to go visit your aunt about making a quilt for the crib. I ordered a Noah's Ark pattern that will take me the rest of my life to make." She was beaming with excitement over a quilt-just like Selma would do. Abigail didn't get it.

Anyone who knew the Strohackers very well knew that they'd been trying to conceive for at least sixteen of their twenty-year marriage. They'd spent a fortune on fertility and in vitro treatments, which had all failed. And then, when they'd given up all hope and Jen was in perimenopause-surprise! That "stomach virus" was going to be a boy. "My sister, Sarah, is an ultrasound tech. She's working me in after hours tonight for a private ultrasound at her clinic across from the Southshire hospital. Dan can't wait to get a look at his son."

"That is so sweet." Abigail smiled as she began to section out Jen's hair and twist it up into clips. "He's gonna be a great dad, huh?"

Jen patted her belly. "He already is."

"Hey, beautiful, where are you?"

Kaylee sighed and smiled. Just the sound of Chaz's voice in her phone could turn her knees into jelly. "Hey, sweetie. I'm just popping home for a minute to change some sheets before I head in to work. This afternoon, I'm going to go pick up Mama and Aunt Lydia at the airport. I can't believe how much there is to do before the wedding." Kaylee moved a stack of brand new, monogrammed towels off the couch and to the overflowing coffee table so that she could sit down. The dining and living rooms of her apartment were literally stuffed with wedding gifts.

"And it's only seven days away. Seven more days until heaven." There was a teasing note in his voice that left Kaylee giggling. The news had spread that they'd both been saving themselves for their wedding night, and it was a bit of a running joke among their friends. And, though there were those that mocked and jeered, most people were impressed- as well they should be. It hadn't been all that easy at times. "Seven days," he whispered, "ten hours and twenty-seven minutes. . . ." He was panting and snorting into the phone.

"Stop it," she giggled. "You're getting my ear all wet!"

"Hey, now, that's interesting." Chaz's rich laughter rumbled in her ear. They'd always been able to make each other laugh. Sometimes it could get almost painful-this knack they had for cracking each other up. It was a wonderful face-and-bellyache that she hoped they'd share with their children in the future.

"What are you doing today?" she asked.

"I'll be down at the cleaners pulling a shift for my dad." Chaz's father, Ernest E. Edwards, owned the Tripoli Cleaners across from the convenience store in the strip mall about a mile from Old Town. Chaz worked at Tripoli during the day and on his law degree up in Southshire by night. He and Kaylee had just bought a house north of town so that they'd be halfway between both places.

"What time you getting off?"

"I can probably be out of here no later than six-thirty. Seven at the latest. Why?"

"I was just wondering when I should have dinner ready. Mama and Aunt Lydia are looking forward to seeing you."

"Plan on seven. What time are they landing?"

"I have to be in Southshire by three-thirty. Their plane is landing at just after four, and I don't want to keep them waiting, in case they're early. They're going to help me get a jump on thank-you notes and reception favors. When Daddy comes in on Friday, he's gonna rent a truck and help us move everything over to the house."

"Sounds good. Don't wanna take 'em line dancing, huh?" he teased.

She groaned. "Pul-eeze. I was always facing the wrong direction and smacking into somebody."

"I like the way you line dance, baby. You can smack into me anytime."

"Get to work, silly boy." It felt as if her grin could just swallow her face whole.