“Do you have more posters? I’ll take a couple. One for the dentist office and one for my church.” A hand reached around Bonnie to shove the posters at Nancy.
It seemed, once again, that Mother really knew what was best. At least, if Nancy’s enthusiasm was a predictor of success.
So, why did Bonnie have this nagging feeling that this luau event would change her life?
“Well, are you with me or not?”
The gnarled fingers of Gus Granger’s hand shook as he ran them over his bald head. Rita Miller wasn’t an easy lady to deal with when she was in a good mood. And, no one could describe her as happy right now.
“Now, Rita. I don’t know that I can play injured for two weeks. That shop’s my life and I want to be the one running it.”
The woman shook her long, dyed-red hair. “You’re a selfish old goat! This might be your boy’s only chance at happiness.”
When he opened his mouth to speak, Gus’ dentures slipped forward. Rita watched him shove them back in place and sighed. “You just sit back for two weeks and enjoy having JT staying with you. Let me take care of everything else.”
“I don’t see how you can be sure the two of them will fall in love. Life don’t work like that, woman.”
At his use of that last word, Rita glared. Gus tried to squeeze more tightly against the plaid couch cushions and disappear. She really was a bossy woman.
The shrew clucked her tongue at him, making him shrink behind the large pillows on the couch. “There you go thinking again. Gus, I told you what to do. Let me handle everything else.”
Maybe her condescending tone provoked him. Or, it could be he was just that protective of his foster son. He and Mildred, God bless her, had raised him after the accident.
Whatever the reason, Gus sat up as straight as the arthritis in his back allowed and growled at Rita. “No! You tell me what’s gonna happen or I won’t be injured.”
A flash of what might be admiration flickered in Rita’s pale eyes. None of it leaked into her voice. Annoyed, she answered him with as few words as possible.
“Merry Claus is on it. Ornament, Luau, grandkids.” Then she scowled at him, “Get it?”
“Merry Claus? Some poor woman actually has that name?”
She giggled. Rita Miller actually tittered out a girlish giggle! “And it fits her perfectly. She’s just what you’d expect in Santa’s wife.”
Gus shook his head, confused. “So now even Santa’s wife is part of your plan. You’ve gone and lost your mind. Crazy old woman!”
Whirling, Gus stomped to Rita’s front door, his cane tapping along with him. It was one more sign he was getting old. He was almost seventy and had no business pretending there was a Santa Claus. The thought of that alone had him grumbling and turning on the top step of Rita’s porch.
“I’m not gonna pretend to be hurt. You’re a—”
Too late, Gus realized he’d missed his step. He shouldn’t have tried to walk down the steps with his eyes pointed over his shoulder.
The cane flew in the air, hitting him on the head as the old man tumbled down one and then another step. A sickening crack sound before he screamed in pain.
Muffled, like from a long way off, he heard Rita speaking on the phone. Then a hand urged him to stay on the ground. “The ambulance is coming.”
Through his clenched teeth, Gus ground out his words. “I’m not gonna pretend.”
Rita stood up. With her hands on her hips, she stared at him. “Well, shoot Gus, now you don’t have to.” Then the woman gave a throaty laugh.
Why should he expect anything else? Rita Miller was crazy!
Chapter 2
“Why didn’t you call me right away?”
The fingers of JT Kirkwood’s hand whitened as he clenched his cellphone. “How bad is Pa? Should I drive down tonight?”
Gus and Mildred Granger had been Pa and Ma to him. At least since he’d decided that Papa Gus and Mama Mildred were what a baby would call them. He remembered that day when he’d asked if he could call them Pa and Ma. Mildred’s eyes had filled with tears while Gus cleared his throat like a rock was stuck in it.
Even while his parents were alive, he’d lived with the couple. He’d called them Papa Gus and Mama Mildred, and his parents encouraged the names. As a jungle pilot for a missionary organization, his father’s job held a lot of risk. His mother always went with him, working for the same group. Gus and Mildred had been JT’s only stability for as long as he could remember.
After his parents crashed somewhere in the Guatemalan jungle when he was five, not a lot changed. Sad, but there it was. His parents sort of faded from his young mind.
Not that Mildred didn’t work to keep their memories alive. JT’s mother had been Mildred’s younger cousin, and they’d grown up together. Ma told him stories about his parents, one a night so he would feel like he knew them.
That same sweet voice that told the stories spoke soothingly on the phone. “Calm down, Captain. Pa’s gonna be fine.”
JT realized he was holding his breath and let it out with a whoosh. Mildred chuckled at the sound.
“Still doing that, Captain. I never could break you of holding your breath. Like you thought something bad was gonna drown you. Thought you’d grown out of it.” Her voice trailed off, as if she were talking to herself and not him.
While he loved Ma, JT acknowledged that the woman was scatterbrained. How she could write successful novels,
