Mercury Rising

Thursday at four Jane held her biweekly Children’s Story Hour. She had a presentation area in the rear of the store, with a mishmash of chairs and benches—and also with a lot of plump pillows in the corners for folks who preferred to sit on the floor. She held the story hour there, as she did the various readers’ groups she hosted, the occasional musical evening and any speaker or workshop events.

As it turned out, the story hour was just what she needed. She read some Dr. Seuss and a little Shel Silverstein and then a few chapters from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Her heart lifted as she looked out over the small, wide-eyed faces, and she felt a smile breaking through the gloom that had been dogging her since she told two men no—one she wanted and one she didn’t, one who was all wrong and one who was just right. Reading to the kids always raised her spirits, brought hope to life again.

Someday, she would find the right guy. She would marry again, this time well and wisely, marry a man who not only turned her bones to water, but who also loved and respected her, a man who would never hurt her, a man who wanted children as much as she did.

Jillian Diamond came bouncing into the bookstore at a little after six on Friday.

Jillian had her own business, Image by Jillian. She taught her clients how to dress for success. She also wrote a column, “Ask Jillian,” for the Sacramento Press-Telegram. She’d already spoken at Jane’s store once, back in March. Lots of folks showed up and Jillian had really wowed them. She was funny and she had some quirky and fascinating ideas. Jane had prevailed on her to do it again.

For her talk this time, Jillian wore a short, sleeveless, fitted sheath in a geometric print and a pair of white patent go-go boots. Her gold-streaked brown hair curled loosely around her arresting face. Her gray eyes sparkled beneath those startlingly dark, thick brows.

“Janey, I made it. Have to tell you, though, I had my doubts. What is it with Highway 50, anyway? Is there ever a time when half the lanes aren’t blocked off for repairs?”

“Sure. That would be in the middle of winter, when all the lanes are closed due to ice and snow.” They hugged.

Jillian smelled of her favorite perfume, Ralph Lauren’s Romance, and also of Cheez Doodles. She was carrying an open bag of them. She stepped back from the hug and popped one in her mouth, then held out the bag to Jane.

“No, thanks.”

“I stopped by the house and left my suitcase and stuff.” Jillian gobbled more Cheez Doodles. Jane wondered how she did it. Jillian ate whatever she wanted and she never worked out and she weighed just what she’d weighed the day they graduated from New Venice High—which was about one-fifteen, soaking wet. In go-go boots.

“Oh, I am starving,” said Jillian. “And I’m in a burger kind of mood. Let’s go next door.”

Next door. To Caitlin Bravo’s place.

“To the Highgrade?” It came out sounding grim, though Jane truly hadn’t meant it that way. Really, there was no reason to avoid the place. Cade wouldn’t be there. He wasn’t even in town.

“Janey. Sometimes you are a total food snob.”

“I am not. I love a good burger as much as anybody.”

“Then what is the hang-up here?” Jillian slid a glance at Madelyn, Jane’s clerk, who was busy ringing up a sale at the register. Then she leaned close and whispered, “A Mommy Dearest issue?”

“No, nothing like that.” Until the day Jane turned eighteen and eloped with Rusty, thus declaring her independence from Virginia Elliott in a very big way, she never would have dared to upset her mother by entering Caitlin Bravo’s place of business. But all that was years ago. Now, Jane ran her own life and allowed no one to tell her where she could or couldn’t go. She often headed over to the café next door for a sandwich—or she used to, until recently, when she’d become increasingly worried she might run into Cade there.

Jillian’s thick brows were all scrunched up. “Well if there are no, er, family issues involved and you love burgers, why not?”

“Good question.” Jane tried to sound breezy. “If you want to eat there, it’s fine with me.”

Jillian stepped up to the register and offered the rest of her Cheez Doodles to Madelyn. “Enjoy.” She brushed the orange dust from her hands and turned back to Jane. “Let’s go.”

Caitlin was there to greet them. “Well, look who’s here.” She emerged from behind the cash register counter in the Highgrade’s central game room. “What’s up?”

Jillian told her. “I’m speaking next-door at Jane’s tonight.”

“Speaking of what?”

“Having It All and Loving It. How to Please Both Yourself and Your Man.”

Caitlin chuckled her low, naughty-sounding chuckle. “Well. I’d say that about covers everything.”

“Drop over if you get a chance.”

“Sweetie, I just might take you up on that—and right now, I suppose you two want to eat?”

“You bet.” Jillian’s eyes were shining. “I’m starved. For a bacon and Swiss burger, I think. With onion rings and a chocolate shake—but I’ll have a look at the menu, just in case something else jumps out at me.”

Caitlin’s false eyelashes swept down. When she looked up again, it was straight at Jane. “We’ve missed you around here lately.”

“Oh, well, things have been really busy.”

“I’m still counting on you to do your story lady gig at the picnic Labor Day.” The Labor Day picnic was an annual event in New Venice. The town merchants went all out for it. There were horseshoes and shuffleboard, live bands, beer on tap for the grown-ups, a clown show and face-painting booth for the kids—among other things. Caitlin was heading up the picnic committee this year.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good. And don’t be a damn stranger. You can drop in for a sandwich anytime and be back at your store in twenty minutes flat. I will personally expedite your order.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

“Don’t thank me. Just come around more often.”

“Yes. I will. Honestly.”

“This way.” Caitlin led them through the open doorway to the café and straight to a corner booth. She gestured at the big laminated menus, which were tucked upright between the sugar dispenser and the napkin holder. “Have a look.” The orange sequins on her tight black shirt glittered aggressively with every breath she took. “I’ll send Roxy right over.” She strutted off.

Jillian picked up her menu and spoke from behind it, out of the corner of her mouth. “God. Best butt I’ve ever seen on a woman over forty-five.”

Jane whispered back. “She is one of a kind.”

“And I swear, she’s a 38-D. Just like you. And not saggy, either.”

“Fascinating,” said Jane dryly. “What are you having?”

“I’m looking, I’m looking….”

“Right.” Jane studied her menu, which had a knotty-pine fence on the cover—no doubt to go along with the Highgrade’s extensively knotty-pine decor. Inside, a cartoon miner with a big hat, baggy old jeans and a pickax slung over his shoulder, grinned and pointed at the various menu selections. “The club sandwich is always good.”

Jillian wasn’t listening—or looking at the menu. “I don’t see the Viking Hunk.” The Viking Hunk was Caitlin’s on-again, off-again lover, Hans. He was about Cade’s age, had long blond hair and looked like he’d walked right off the cover of a steamy romance novel.

Jane shrugged. “You’re right. Hans hasn’t been around lately. I think I heard he’s left town again.”

“Ah, the course of true love never did run all that smooth.”

“Here comes the waitress. Quit mangling Shakespeare and figure out what you want.”

They ordered and the food arrived quickly. Jane concentrated on her sandwich and tried not to remember….