another item that couldn’t be purchased at a discount store. Cassidy needed to start thinking of affordable alternatives or the red boots would be it.
If only the red boots could bark and be named Fido.
While Cassidy slumbered, Maggie—sitting next to the old wall heater and thinking about turning on the oven—updated the store’s records on her computer. Under her breath, she reminded herself that any small business needed four years to establish. Right now, thanks to her alteration business, she made enough to pay the bills and a few, very few, extras. Oh, it caused some late and restless nights, but with the economy the way it was, Maggie was just glad she had a way to make a living. So what if she went to the library instead of the bookstore. So what if they ate hamburgers instead of steaks.
Maggie had enough money for the essentials.
The used red cowboy boots under the tree were proof of that. She’d priced new red boots. Not this Christmas. Good thing hugs were free.
Finally, at seven, Maggie turned off the computer and headed for the kitchen to make breakfast. Cassidy still slept and Maggie wouldn’t wake her until the blueberry pancakes were ready, one large circle for a face, two small ovals for ears, then banana slices for eyes, a strawberry nose and raisin teeth.
It was a tradition that Maggie knew would end all too soon as her little girl grew up. Just when Maggie picked up a spoon, the doorbell rang.
Maggie quickly glanced at the calendar on the refrigerator. Two reminders were penciled in.
The only pickup Maggie had today was Rosalind Maynard. She’d wanted Maggie to find a 1930s denim chore jacket for her husband. They were getting their photo made for their seventieth wedding anniversary. Apparently, Rosalind’s husband came from a long line of farmers. His parents had also had a seventieth photo taken way back when, and George Jr. wanted to look like his dad, even down to the jacket.
It was the second notation that made Maggie frown. Yesterday, Jared McCreedy had called. He wanted to talk. She’d agreed, and she’d said any morning was good, but she hadn’t planned on this soon.
No, not possible. This morning was too soon for it to be Jared.
She hoped.
Quickly, Maggie hurried down the stairs and skidded, barefoot, across the cold, wooden floor. Maybe she could open the door, usher in Mrs. Maynard, grab the jacket, ring up the sale, usher out the customer, and still get her kid fed and to school on time.
Only it wasn’t Mrs. Maynard.
Jared McCreedy stood on the threshold, three boys by his side and cap in hand. He didn’t say a word when she threw open the door. He pretty much just stared.
His son Caleb wasn’t so shy. “Wow, I think you like pink.”
“Hush,” Jared said.
Hiding a smile, Maggie stepped back and let the entire clan in.
“Pink is a good color,” Maggie said to Caleb, “which is why I’m wearing it. I call this my Jane Fonda look.” Granted, leg warmers were very seventies, but she did own a vintage store, so she could get away with it.
“I like red,” Caleb admitted.
An older boy shook her hand, the only McCreedy she hadn’t met personally, and then sat on a chair right by the entry and whipped out some sort of handheld gaming device.
“That’s Ryan,” Caleb announced. “He’s in fourth grade.”
Matt looked around suspiciously. “Where’s Cassidy?”
“Upstairs asleep.”
“It’s time to go to school.” Matt was completely aghast.
“I was just making her breakfast when you rang the doorbell. We’re fast eaters and dressers.”
Matt, way too mature for a second grader, clearly had more to say on the subject, but Jared jumped in. “We don’t need to be keeping you. I saw your lights on, we were running early, and I don’t know what I was thinking stopping by unannounced. I’m so sorry. I can stop back by once I’ve dropped the boys off at school if that’s okay. I got up at five and thanks to the party tonight at church, I have a whole list of things to do. That’s no excuse, though. I simply forget the rest of the world can sleep in.”
It had been a week since she’d last seen Jared. He still managed to have that my-time-is-too-valuable-for-this look on his handsome face, but right now there was a hint of something else, maybe humbleness.
“I get up at five, too, Monday through Friday,” Maggie responded. “It’s when I do the books. That way my evening belongs to Cassidy.”
Jared shook his head. His dark hair, combed to the side, didn’t move. He opened his mouth, but instead of addressing Maggie, he looked past her and said sternly, “Caleb, those stairs do not belong to you.”
Halfway up the stairs Caleb paused indecisively, but before the little boy could make a decision, a loud thump, the sound of something breaking and then a howl came from above.
“Cassidy,” Maggie breathed.
The only McCreedy who beat her to the apartment’s kitchen was Caleb.
Cassidy stood in the middle of the room crying. Pancake batter splattered her pajama bottoms, the floor, the counters, the refrigerator door and even the ceiling. The bowl was in pieces.
“Now that’s a mess,” Matt said from behind her.
Jared’s snort could have been dismay, agreement, or it could have been him holding back laughter. Maggie couldn’t see his face.
“Don’t move,” Maggie ordered. Quickly she stepped amid the batter and shards, lifted her howling child under her arms and carried Cassidy into the bathroom. Flipping shut the toilet lid with her foot, Maggie stood her daughter on top and asked, “Are you bleeding?”
Cassidy continued howling.
Maggie knew neither cajoling nor scolding would have any effect. So, in a matter-of-fact voice, she reasoned, “Matt, from your class, is here. Do you want him to tell your friends that you’re a crybaby?”
Cassidy stopped.
“Now,” Maggie went on, gently wiping the tears from Cassidy’s face, “are you bleeding?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Cassidy searched desperately for some blood.
After a moment, Maggie nudged in a patient but firm voice, “Where do you hurt?”
The fact that Cassidy had to stop and think proved what Maggie already knew. Cassidy wasn’t bleeding and she wasn’t hurt. She was scared and embarrassed. The best cure for that was not a bandage but a hug.
Hugs were free.
A minute later, Cassidy was in her room changing into her school clothes and Maggie was in her kitchen trying not to stare
