arrived within two minutes.
“The woman who was here left.” Gideon pointed down his driveway. “I want to make sure you get her before she gets away.”
“She won’t, Mr. Wells.” The officer took a step into Gideon’s home. “The first unit saw her walking down the road and they apprehended her. I’m here to take your statement.” He pulled out a notepad. “By the way, great game last night. Still can’t believe you’re here so soon.”
Gideon couldn’t believe everything he’d had to deal with within a twenty-four-hour period. Could he get a break?
After completing a police report, taking a couple of pictures with the officers and signing some autographs, the police left. Too bad now Gideon couldn’t sleep. He needed to rest to think clearly.
He lumbered up to his room after making sure he secured the downstairs and strolled into his large yet empty bedroom. When he crossed the threshold, he peered over to the bookshelf where the cheerleader had hidden her phone. If she’d hidden her phone, what else had she done? Had she bugged his room with some other recording device?
“Damn.” Gideon retreated to a spare bedroom.
With each step to the other bedroom, he gritted his teeth. His home should be his sanctuary. Now he felt like a guest. Never again would he allow a woman or anyone else to derail him. He wanted to keep his focus on his family, the reason for his trip back home.
Chapter 4
Janelle’s mother, Ida, could only be tolerated in small doses. Conducting her conversation with Ida by phone allowed Janelle an easy out when her mother got on her nerves. She rolled her eyes again, probably the fourth time during their chat, as she drove to her shop and listened to her mother give her advice on how to live her life…again.
“What you need to do is get you a rich man to pay your bills and get you out of this mess,” Ida said.
Janelle had made the mistake of not updating her address with her bank before they sent out a notification about her delinquent status. He mother had seen it and now felt she had every right to comment on Janelle’s personal affairs.
“Mom, I was able to get the loan on my own. I had the business idea on my own. I developed the business plan on my own. I don’t need a rich man to bail me out. As usual, I’ll figure out how to get myself out of this mess.”
“You mean without me, right?” Bitterness laced Ida’s words.
Janelle squeezed her eyes shut for a quick moment to collect her thoughts. “I have a plan to get Flowers Galore more customers.”
“Really? How’s that?” As usual, doubt filled her mother’s voice.
“There’s a flower competition. I’ll enter and win.” Janelle smiled as she thought about the plant she’d been cultivating for months.
“How much do you get for first place?”
“I don’t know. 350 dollars, I think.” Janelle believed she’d seen that amount on the application, but she hadn’t paid a lot of attention to it.
She knew what winning the prestigious Virginia Flower Show contest would draw true flower and plant admirers to her store. She would be taken seriously in her field. The new perception would give her publicity. Then she would be able to see the payoff. It had to work. She had no other options except close the store.
“So wait. Winning this contest won’t get you enough money to pay off your bills? Sounds like a waste of time.” Ida pushed a disapproving grunt through the phone.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Mom. Your plan for me is to find a rich guy. Coming from you, that advice is surprising. It’s not like you’re hooked up with Warren Buffet.” Janelle didn’t mean to hit her mother with a low blow, but Ida had been shooting down her dreams for as long as Janelle could remember.
“So you think your one and only boyfriend makes you some sort of expert? Men need to be used. They have no problem in using women, now do they?”
Janelle shook her head. Some traits she didn’t want to inherit from her mother. She’d already gotten her height, lithe body, and her huge backside. Janelle wouldn’t take on her hatred of men.
“You gave me your advice. I’m telling you what I’m going to do. As always, thanks for the support.” Janelle disconnected the call before their discussion ended up as it always did, in an argument.
Janelle pulled up to the store and parked in her usual spot at the farthest corner of the lot. She wanted to leave plenty of space for potential customers. She unlocked the door and scanned the contents of her place.
“I need a miracle.” Janelle went behind the counter and stowed her purse and coat.
Before Penny showed up for work, Janelle went to the back room where she kept her baby. With all the lights on and in a heated glass cabinet, sat her swamp hibiscus. She opened the door long enough to check the moistness of the murky, muddy water she had the plant’s roots in. Out of habit, she took a sniff from one of the closed buds. The fragrant aroma soothed her. This would be her ticket.
Janelle stroked one of the leaves. For its unappealing name, the petal tickled the pads of her fingers. This would be her salvation. She closed the cabinet door and checked the thermostat to make sure it remained at the right temperature. Everything had to be perfect.
Until something great happened, she would continue to work hard until…well, until the bank forced her to stop what she loved in this space.
* * * *
After a few hours of restless sleep and a long, hot bath, Gideon changed into something comfortable, got into his garage-kept car and sped down to the hospital. He didn’t drive anything fancy or special. As a matter of fact, he’d picked this crossover vehicle because it resembled a station wagon. He liked the wholesome feel he got from being in something that looked like his mother would drive.
What was he thinking? His mother had owned a Cadillac, and now had a small Mini Cooper. She could never be described as typical…thank God.
Gideon got to the hospital and approached the information desk. “I need to see Gunnar Wells.”
The older woman at the desk peered up at him over her wire-rimmed silver glasses. “Are you family? We’ve had a lot of fans up here looking to see the man.”
“Yes. I’m his brother.” He took out his Virginia state driver’s license and handed it to her, thankful that she didn’t know him as the Gideon Wells.
She handed his license back to him and then took his picture for his temporary visitor’s pass. She handed him the sticker. “Wear this while visiting him. He’s on the fifth floor in room 522.” She smiled.
“Thanks.” Before leaving the counter, he affixed the sticker to his shirt, not his jacket. He planned on being there for a while.
“Mr. Wells?”
Gideon turned back to the woman.
“Great game yesterday.” She gave him a thumbs-up sign.
His
