The Liar, Page 51

  “Tell me what you want, baby. I know you’ve got something going on in your head. I can see it.”

  Relaxed, drifting, Shelby sighed. “I’ve started taking some classes online.”

  “I knew it was something! What classes?”

  “On interior decorating. It’s just a couple little courses, but I’m doing pretty well, and I like it. I thought I’d take another when it’s done and I can afford it, and a business course, too. Get the experience and education.”

  “You’ve got a talent for it. You sign up for those other courses, Shelby Anne. Your daddy and I will pay for them.”

  “I’m paying, Mama.”

  “You listen to me now. We worked hard, your daddy and I, to send your brothers to college. They had to work, too, but we bore the brunt because that’s what parents do. We do what we can. We’d have seen you through college just the same. You took another path for a while. But if you’re looking to get more education, we’re paying. You’d do it for Callie, and don’t tell me different.”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you because I knew this is what you’d say.”

  “You ask your daddy what he thinks, and you’ll get the same answer you’re getting from me. You’re not sitting around looking for us to pay your way through life. You’re working, you’re tending your own child, and striving to . . . to hone a God-given talent. If I can’t give my own daughter a hand up, well, what kind of mother would I be?”

  Opening her eyes, Shelby saw what she’d imagined in her head. Her tall, occasionally fierce mother, standing over her, face set. “I love you so much, Mama.”

  “You’d better. You can pay me back helping me freshen up the living room. Now that we’ve done so much new upstairs, it’s looking tired to me.”

  “You’ll get around Daddy on that telling him I need the experience.”

  “And you’ll get it, while I’ll get a fresh look in that room.”

  She slipped mittens on Shelby’s hands, went around, began a slow, glorious neck rub. “Now that I’ve got you where I want you, I’m going to say when Griff’s people come visiting, you should go over there one night, cook them dinner. Show them what a good cook you are.”

  “Mama—”

  “I know most women don’t like another woman in their kitchen.” In her cheerful way, Ada Mae rolled right over objections. “But she’ll be visiting, and working while she is. I know I’d appreciate somebody setting a good meal in front of me after a long workday. Don’t I appreciate when you do it for me?”

  “You do, but—”

  “You ought to make that pasta salad like you made for your daddy and me the other night, with those fancy chicken breasts and good fresh peas.”

  “Mama, that’s weeks away yet.”

  “Time moves whether we’re watching the clock or not.”

  “I know it, and that’s why I’ve got Emma Kate’s engagement party this week when it seems like two minutes ago Matt put the ring on her finger. I’ve got so much to do yet, to think about doing.”

  “I wish you’d let me treat you to a new formal for it.”

  They’d been this round, Shelby thought, and she was grateful, but she’d rather spend the money on design classes and continuing her education. “I love that you’d want to, but I just don’t have call for that kind of dress now, so it’d be wasted on just one wearing. And I’m going to be running around all night, making sure everything goes just as it’s supposed to—and keeping Miz Bitsy in line, more or less.”

  “Bless her heart, she needs someone to.”

  “And that’s me this Saturday night. It’ll be easier for me doing all that if I’m not wearing a long dress.” She’d had enough long, fancy dresses over the last few years, and selling them had put some black ink in her ledger. “You think I ought to wear my hair up or down?” she asked, knowing that would carve a new avenue for her mother to travel.

  “Oh! Mama could give you a wonderful updo, one that makes the most of your curls instead of hiding them.”

  Since Ada Mae was off and running, Shelby just closed her eyes and enjoyed the rest of her facial.

  She did have a lot to do, and a short time to get it done. Exchanging e-mails, calls, texts with the event manager at the hotel ate up considerable as the manager was grateful to deal with her rather than the bride-to-be’s “enthusiastic and creative mother.”

  Shelby read that subtext clearly.

  She had what she hoped would be the final conversation with the florist before the actual event setup, and yet another with Bitsy.

  But she took a moment—with her new Winsome Wisteria toes—to sit on the little back patio with her grandmother at the end of the workday.

  “You’re glowing, girl.”

  Shelby took a sip of sweet tea. “Mama’s a genius.”

  “She’s got a talent, but she had fine material to work with. You’re looking happy these days, and there’s no better beauty treatment. It’s hard to bring a glow out without the happy.”

  “I am happy. Callie’s just thriving, we’ve got a new baby in the family to spoil and my best friend’s getting married. Working here’s brought back to me how much I love the Ridge. Then there’s the big bonus of my Friday Nights at the bar and grill.”

  She took another sip. “And last but far from least, I’ve got myself a boyfriend who makes me glow even when he’s not around. I got awful lucky, Granny. Some second chances come too late.”

  “You’re working for yours.”

  “I won’t be stopping that anytime soon. Now that I’ve got my glow on, and my nails all pretty, I wanted to see if you’d have time Saturday to do up my hair before the party.”

  Viola eyed Shelby over the rim of her glass. “And you’re going to let me have my way with it?”

  “I’d never question the expert.”

  “Good. I’ve got ideas there. Now tell me what’s really on your mind.”

  Granny always had read her like a book. “The party’s the main focus right now. Do you know I just talked Miz Bitsy—and it took some doing—out of the last-minute hiring of a small string orchestra to play in the ballroom? God knows what she’s going to cook up that we have to toss out again for the wedding when it comes.”

  “She does love her girl, but bless her heart, she’s always had fancy ideas that don’t fit Emma Kate any more than Bitsy’s size-five shoes would. There’s another focus in there, Shelby. I can see it.”

  “I really do want your opinion and advice. I just . . . I’m so grateful to be able to work here, Granny, not just because I needed a job, but because it helped me come back. Helped me feel part of things here again. I want you to know how grateful I am.”

  “If you’ve got another job lined up, Shelby, I’m not going to be upset about it. I never figured this situation here was permanent for you. Running this place wouldn’t fit you any more than Bitsy’s shoes, either. What are you looking at?”

  “It’s not yet. Probably not for six months. Maybe longer—probably longer,” she amended. “I’m taking a couples classes online, on decorating.”

  “You’ve got a knack for that like Ada Mae does for skin. I used to think you’d make your fame and fortune from your voice—then use your talent for decorating on the big houses you’d have.”

  “I’m not willing to do all the work a music career needs. The nights, the touring, the . . . well, the focus again. That’s just not for me anymore, for who I am now. I don’t get a second chance there—I threw that away, and I’m not looking to find it again.”

  “Life’s just a continual stream of choices. You’re making another choice now.”

  “I think I could build something for me and Callie, Granny.”

  Lips curved, eyes sharp, Viola nodded. “You’re looking forward toward a career. Not a job, a vocation.”

  “I am. I’m doing really well with these classes, and I’m going to add in others—one on business management, too.”

  As she nodded again, Viola’s smile spread. “You’ve
got that in the blood, but education adds to it.”

  “I’m not going to rush it. I helped Gilly with her bedroom, and Emma Kate with some ideas for her apartment, just to see if I could work with somebody’s space, and their needs. Now Mama wants me to help her freshen up her living room. I can’t say how Daddy’s going to feel about that.”

  Viola returned Shelby’s grin. “Men don’t like change as a rule, but they get used to it.”

  Revved up now—no one knew starting a business from the ground up like Viola MacNee Donahue—Shelby edged forward in her chair.

  “I’ve got such ideas for over at Griff’s. Sometimes I bite my tongue because it’s his place, and he’s so smart and clever about it already.”

  “Anyone smart and clever values another eye, another perspective on things.”

  “Well, sometimes I don’t bite my tongue in time, and he hasn’t gotten put out by it. Anyway, I’m going to take these classes, get the credentials, then I’m going to try to start up a small business. I’ll need to keep working to support myself and Callie, and get this damn debt paid in full. Starting small’s the idea, like you did—and Grandpa, too. Building steady. Do you think I’ve got the right direction?”

  “Does it make you happy?” Viola held up a finger, then tapped it on the table. “Don’t go discounting being happy in your work, Shelby. It’s hard enough going to a job every day and dealing with a boss if you’re not happy with your work. But when it’s your own, everything’s on you. If it doesn’t make you happy, you’re better off drawing that paycheck and leaving the worry to somebody else.”

  “This is just why I wanted to talk to you before I took too many more steps. It does make me happy, Granny. It made me so happy just doing those little bits for Gilly and Emma Kate, seeing how pleased they were, knowing I could see what they’d like and how they’d like it. And I felt so silly happy when Griff used the paint color I picked for the front room, and how he bought this painted chest I saw over at The Artful Ridge—it’s sure nice being able to go in there now—and just mentioned how it would look good at the foot of his bed. And it does.”

  “Then you do it. Do what makes you happy.”

  On a long breath, Shelby sat back. “I take a step forward, like with the classes, then I take two back. At least in my head. I thought Richard would make me happy.”

  “You made a mistake,” Viola said flatly. “It won’t be the last you’ll make before you’re done with the world. Not if you’re lucky enough to live a long, full, interesting life.”

  “I can hope it’s the biggest one I’ll ever make.” She reached for Viola’s hand. “Will you help me? I don’t mean with the money I’ll need to get going. I mean, when I’m ready to start things up, can I ask you the half a million questions I’m bound to have?”

  “I’d be insulted if you didn’t. I’ve got a head for business, and your grandfather does, too. Who do you think helped your daddy get the business side of his practice going?”

  “I should’ve figured. I’m counting on you.”

  “I’ll count on you right back. Well, look here, we’ve got us a handsome man come to call.”

  “Miz Vi.” Matt walked over to the table, bent down to kiss her cheek. “Excuse the grunge. We just finished up for the day over at Bootlegger’s.”

  “And how’s that coming?”

  “We’ve got the footers in, ready for the inspector tomorrow. How are you, Shelby?”

  “I’m good, thanks. Why don’t I go get you a cold drink?”

  He lifted the bottle he carried. “Have Gatorade, will travel.”

  “A glass with ice, then.”

  “Real men don’t need glasses.” With a wink, he chugged straight from the bottle. “Emma Kate mentioned you wanted to talk to me. Just me.” Now he wiggled his eyebrows, made her laugh.

  “I did, but I didn’t expect you to make time so soon. You’ve got a lot going on.”

  “So do you. I heard you just headed off a string orchestra. Consider your feet kissed.”

  “You sit on down,” Viola told him. “Take my chair,” she added as she rose. “I’m shuffling my tired feet home, and having myself a drink with more kick than tea. You behave yourself with my girl, Matthew.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Granny. Love to Grandpa.”

  “You have his,” Viola said as she went back inside.

  “Is there anything else I should know about—now that we’ve avoided the cello?” Matt took a seat, stretched out his legs. Sighed. “God, that feels really good.”

  “A man who works as hard as you ought to have Vonnie for a massage every week. Keep yourself loose and healthy.”

  “Emma Kate’s always saying the same thing about yoga. I’d rather the massage than trying to twist myself into a pretzel.”

  And he’d very likely rather be home now than sitting here waiting for her to get to the point.

  “I didn’t expect to talk to you about this until after the party or I’d’ve had my thoughts more together on it. I was just talking to Granny about it. She and my mama are the only ones I’ve said anything to.”

  “Not about the party, then.”

  “No, not about that. That’s going to be just perfect, don’t worry. It’s . . .” She blew out a breath. “It’s that I’ve started to take some classes,” she began, and took him through it.

  “Griff said you had an eye. You can’t always believe a man who’s got stars in his own, but I got a sample myself with what you did at our place. And it cost under two hundred to do it.”

  “It was mostly just using what you already had in a different way.”

  “It looks better. Fresher. And the idea of matting and framing her great-grandmother’s crocheted doilies? I wasn’t big on that—seemed too girly, too fussy, when she told me. But they look great.”

  “Oh, they’re done?”

  “She picked them up last night, and we hung them where you said. Even if I didn’t like it—and I do—the look on Emma Kate’s face once they were up would’ve been more than enough.”

  “I’m so glad the idea worked, for both of you.”

  “She’s itching to do something with the rest of the place now—I’d thank you for that, but it would be a lie. I’m trying to get her to hold off since we’re going to look at a piece of land Sunday afternoon.”

  “You found something? Where?”

  “Hardly more than a stone’s throw from Griff’s. Just under three acres, so not as much land as he’s got, but the same stream runs through it.”

  “I bet it’s pretty. I didn’t think y’all wanted to move that far out of town.”

  “Emma Kate’s a little nervous about it, but I think she’ll come around when she sees it. Maybe you could save your ideas for her until I start building.”

  “Actually . . . I wanted to ask you—just you, Matt, not Griff, not Emma Kate—if you think, once I get my credentials, you could see your way clear to using me, if I seemed right and the job called for it. Or just mentioning my name to a client who maybe was thinking about using a decorator. I have two of my class projects right here on my phone.”

  She pulled it out of her pocket. “It’s hard to see the details on the phone, but you’d see if you thought it worked overall.”

  “You haven’t said anything to Griff?”

  “No.” Once she’d found the projects, she handed Matt the phone. “He’d say yes because he wouldn’t want to tell me no, and so would Emma Kate. That’s not what I’m looking for, that’s not how I want to start out. I give you my word, if this doesn’t seem like something that you’d feel comfortable doing, I won’t say a thing to him or Emma Kate about it. I don’t want you to feel like I’m putting you in the middle of something.”

  She took a breath while he studied her project, then flipped the screen to the second one.

  “Your work, yours and Griff’s, is so good. And your reputation, even though you haven’t been around here all that long—not by Ridge
standards—is already so solid. I think I could contribute to that. As an outside consultant.”

  He flicked a glance up at her, then looked at the phone again. “You did these?”

  “I did. There are written projects, too, but—”

  “They’re good, Shelby. Really good.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Honestly and seriously. Griff does most of our design work, and he’ll step a toe into decorating if the client wants some guidance. You should show these to him.”

  “I will, but I don’t want to show him with the idea he’d feel obliged to—”

  “Show him,” Matt interrupted. “We’re a team, and when we make a