“Did I really say that out loud? That I could be combustible?”
At Frivolities an hour earlier than usual, Geneva found herself working before she was awake enough to face the day. The bottle of flavored syrup slipped from her hands to the floor.
Was there lack of communication between her brain and her sense of feeling? She’d been daydreaming about Rainn’s touch. Her insides felt mushy.
At least she didn’t have to clean up a mess like the sticky chocolate syrup on the floor, since the bottle lid stayed secure.
He was a young man. How in thunderation could he be interested in her?
The grinds and whirs and swishes of the espresso machine couldn’t drown out thinking about their age difference.
“Morning, Geneva.”
She almost choked on the water she was sipping. The unexpected sound of his familiar low voice created a shivering rain of awareness. She cleared her throat, finding it difficult to produce a lighthearted sound. “Looks like I need a bell above the back door as well as the front.”
“Think you’d hear it way up here? Saw Moselle from the alley struggling with unfolded cardboard at the door so I gave her a hand.”
Geneva positioned her body between the coffee she poured for him and the machine, grasping the cup with both hands to make sure she kept hold, then passed it over with one hand as she turned.
“I sure could get used to this every morning.”
Geneva tried to ignore the pleasurable sound of his voice, as well as the implication of his words, by changing the subject. “So, where’s Mia?”
“Moselle took her up to the loft. I didn’t think they’d ever make it to the top of the stairs. Mia had the compulsion to step on every painted green leaf, as she followed the vines on the steps.”
He sipped, and then rolled his tongue from cheek to cheek. Geneva felt flattered that he sought a more thorough taste of the coffee flavor.
“That girl of mine.” She smiled with pride. “Moselle works so hard to give little extras to the places she impacts. And now every spare moment goes into the Frivolities Memory Boxes. They keep getting better and better. All that creativity helped plan her wedding.”
For a man, Rainn moved fast. The old floorboards squeaked when he joined her behind the counter, setting his coffee out of reach, he lifted Geneva’s chin with a long artist’s finger, callused in just the right places.
She wanted to hide from her conflicting emotions.
She wanted to look at his face forever.
“Thank you for last night. I like the idea of you and me more and more.”
Geneva blew a loud exhalation. The idea of the two of them as a couple was preposterous. Wasn’t it?
“Rainn, how could this possibly work? All you have to do is look at the numbers. Twelve years I have on you!”
He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “I keep telling you. Age doesn’t matter.”
“How can you say that?”
His long-fingered hand covered the side of Geneva’s face, soft as a painter’s brushstroke. “We have something here, Geneva. You bring out the best in me somehow, make me feel whole. When Eric introduced us and you said, ‘you must be Rainn,’ it was like I’d never heard my name spoken before.”
“Oh come on.” Geneva stepped back, unable to stand the contact, or the gentleness of his caress another second.
“And, since you listen to oldies here in the store, I have been tuning in. When I heard the song about seeing someone’s face for the first time…” He traced a line across her brow to her temple, grazed her ear, followed her jaw, tapped her chin, and whispered his finger over Geneva’s bottom lip.
There was no more room to step further away. She felt caught in a dream of sensation, lulled by his sensitive artist’s finger and the strength of his presence.
“What can I say? The lyrics brought your face to mind. That first meeting is something I’ll never forget. And the impact you had.” He punctuated the next phrase with that killer grin. “Still have on me.”
All Geneva wanted to do was nuzzle into his hand like a kitten, scrunch her eyes, and purr.
“Do you know what I said to Eric after meeting you?”
“I have no clue.”
“I told him, if the daughter looks anything like the mother, he’s got a good thing going.”
Geneva frowned and started to raise her hand to her throat. She dropped her hands to her sides.
“We could have a good thing going if you’d give us a try,” Rainn insisted.
It was beyond incredible. Beyond words really, that this kind-hearted, unselfish, giving, handsome, talented artist, whom any woman would fall for, stood there coming on to her.
At a noise from behind, she moved out from the small space behind the counter with Rainn following along, hand at the small of her back.
Could he feel that extra flesh back there? Self-conscious, she slipped away as soon as there was room, putting space between them.
Mia and Moselle eyed ladybug items on display. From her smile, Geneva got the impression Mia really liked ladybugs.
Lanae entered from the office.
Rainn grasped Geneva’s waist from behind, a hand on either side, and directed her to the corner cabinet that displayed Moselle’s vine-painted picture frames.
Out of sight of the others, he leaned in close. “I want to see you again, just the two of us.”
With his words, her circling thoughts returned to reality. A woman in mid-life with a newly established boutique had no business lusting after a younger man, even if he did find her attractive and turned her insides to mush.
Her eyes drifted shut at the thrill, but she blinked them open. Then Geneva struggled in his grasp. “Rainn, this seems like such nonsense to me,” she blurted. “I mean, I’m flattered. I’m flabbergasted over your attention. I’m so much older than you.”
Crinkles deepened around his mouth. “Your argument is beginning to irritate me. Age is a state of mind.”
She lifted his hands off her hips, and he grasped her fingers between his.
His proximity unnerved her. Tears welled in her throat. “I like to have you interested in me, but I’m so…middle-aged. Rainn, you’re handsome and talented and virile. You could have your pick of nice young women.”
Yet deep down, those contrary thoughts flew right out the decorated display window, maybe to get caught in the giant puffs of lime green tulle cascading above the framework over the entrance. She felt clueless over his apparent attraction. Her emotions ran amuck. His hold on her hands remained firm.
“I’m not interested in another woman, right now. I imagine you’re the size Marilyn Monroe was. I doubt any of her admirers cared what numbers were stamped on her birth certificate.”
How should a mature woman respond to that one?
Every line in his face softened. “Geneva, what I see in you comes from the inside. And I see nothing wrong with what’s on the outside. I admire you, and want to know more about you.”
Oh, my. Oh, my-oh-my. Ohmyohmyohmy.
All the sensible molecules, or cells, or whatever made up a body, pulled apart. Her composure shattered to smithereens and scattered into the tiniest knickknacks and corners of Frivolities.
From the stairway, Mia’s giggles rose to a crescendo. Moselle’s laughter joined in.
Rainn chuckled and let her hands go. He tipped an imaginary hat in farewell. He turned, snagged his to-go cup off the counter, and grabbed Mia’s hand. But when she brushed against small wind chimes too close to the aisle, he stepped back to give her his attention.
Rainn held one of the tiny chimes up to Mia’s ear. “Look at that. I’ve found you an earring.”
Mia tinkled the chimes, became fixated, and dinged them over and over and over.
The next five minutes passed into nothingness. The background music of the pinging chimes got lost in the pounding of Geneva’s heart. Rainn’s patience with Mia melted another glob of Geneva’s resistance into that growing puddle of mush.
It took a blink or two before she tuned in to Lanae and Moselle’s presence, before she registered Rainn and Mia’s absence.
“You back with us, my sister-turned-teenager?”
“Mom, for a second there, I thought you were going to faint.”
Lanae spouted off in a sing-song voice. “See Rainn come in the store. See Rainn fluster my sister.”
Geneva didn’t respond to the reference to their grade-school primer regarding Dick and Jane and the stories they learned to read. She stared out the window. “The thing is, I’m beginning to think I’ll buy in to what Rainn sees in me.”
And what we could have together.
Geneva’s apron felt askew, and she remembered his fingers at her waist. She busied her hands tidying her appearance, and continued to express her thoughts out loud. “Well, at times, anyway. I’m not beautiful by any means, but Rainn must see something appealing in me.” She felt herself blush, hated it. “He compared me to Marilyn Monroe.”
Could she risk her business, her reputation, for a second chance at love? Did she have it in her to invest in the life of a special needs child when she’d already raised a daughter? Maybe it was time for her own needs, but why couldn’t it involve an older man who had already raised his family?
Get back on task, woman.
Lanae picked up a framed picture of Moselle and fanned her face.
Moselle grinned from ear to ear. “You go, Mom.”
Geneva looked from one to the other. “We’re Christians, so we are different from most of the world’s population.”
Moselle screwed up her face. “Meaning?”
“People watch us. People like Kate Rawlins, as well as those at church. The whole town, for that matter. They’ll talk.”
Geneva focused on Lanae. “You know the cliché about how the woman wants a younger man for one thing, and the guy wants an older woman for her money?”
Lanae didn’t answer, but Moselle did. “Mom, we both know you aren’t rolling in dough.”
“The three of us know that, but the whole town would assume Rainn and I are rolling in the hay if they see us going out together.”
“Mother!” Moselle spouted.
“Go get ‘em, tiger.” Lanae piped up.
Lanae was all show, but Geneva found it very hard not to let her imagination run wild, to places she’d never let it go before. Places where Rainn was at the forefront.
Come to think of it, based on hair color, Rainn appeared older than Geneva.
She stood taller. Hmm. Maybe they didn’t appear so mismatched after all.
And then she got a picture of them standing together before a mirror. The image created a warm sensation that rose from her calves all the way up to the top of her head.
Lord, is this possible? Rainn and me as a couple? Unless You show me a roadblock, am I to believe it’s Your will for us to have a relationship?
As the day passed, Geneva caught herself focusing on the oldies that played in the background. She either bopped around with rock ’n roll, or drooled over the memory of Rainn, daring to dream she was the “me” who sang the words to him. She could stand by him, lean on him, and at one point she was so into him as the object of the lyrics, that she splotched hot coffee all over the counter while overfilling a client’s mug.
Customers came and went, fewer than she cared to have go through Frivolities in eight hours. Shortly before closing time, three women huddled together near a shelving unit distressed to look antique. Frivolities Memory Boxes rested among faux antique photo albums and other decorative reproductions. Their conversation prevented Geneva’s offer to assist.
“I haven’t seen Lanae working in quite a while. What do you know about hepatitis C? Isn’t it from drug use? Used needles, or exchange of body fluids, right?” Kate Rawlins spat the query, disguised to express concern, lowering her voice for effect.
“That is what I understand. It’s highly contagious. Do you think we could get it if we eat a slice of her cheesecake?” This query came from a mysterious woman whose face Geneva had yet to see.
Red splotches splattered her vision, and she wanted to spit fire. Talking this way about my sister, in our place of business. Geneva took a giant step, close enough to run into Mary Jorgenson’s oversized plastic tote. They’d played together in kindergarten.
“What do you think, gals?” She meant to drip honey, but Geneva’s words poured out like the taste of pure vanilla on an unsuspecting tongue. “Lanae pricks her finger on the cheesecake and lets the blood drip onto the cherry sauce?”
She looked the three in the eye, one at a time. Kate Rawlins had spread this seed, Geneva was sure. The older woman could create more gossip than corduroy fabric had lines. Kate finally turned away from Geneva’s stare, feigning sudden interest in an arrangement of varied silk mums.
“Lanae is my sister. She is my daughter’s aunt. We are family, and we have lived together. Do you think we would eat with her, share a bathroom with her, if there was a chance we’d get the disease?”
Tracing the Frivolities logo on the apron above her heart, Geneva pictured Lanae’s fingers working the embroidery thread.
“To set the record straight, and all three of us would appreciate the correction if you should hear the subject come up elsewhere in town, my sister has never done drugs. She has been a Christian since childhood and has not been in a relationship with a man since her husband died.” Geneva rested her fists on her hips, elbows wide. “If you must know, we believe she contracted the illness while she was hospitalized for surgery.”
Geneva felt tears balance on the lower lashes of each eye. She let them dangle. The women turned, shamefaced. Only one mumbled an apology under her breath.
But to the good of Frivolities, two purchases soon hit the counter in front of Moselle at the register. Moselle was sickeningly sweet to the buyers, but Geneva glared holes in their backsides until they stalked out the front door.
“I’d like to hang a sign that says ‘Kate Rawlins, kindly keep out,’” Moselle grumbled.
“Of everyone else’s life,” Geneva finished. She swept the lingering tears away with a shaky hand, and felt like crying in Rainn’s strong arms.
****
Geneva hadn’t seen him for five days. Then Rainn jangled that bell above the door to announce his presence. The door banged shut behind him. Men just plain made more noise, made their presence known more aggressively than women.
She got a kick out of customers’ reactions to the whimsy of Frivolities. For some reason when women came in, they handled the door almost in quiet reverence, like a breath between bright sunlight and twilight.
A shopping woman kind of sighed inside, as though inhaling a calm ocean breeze. When the waves come in, she was ready for the ritual of feeling, smelling, ogling, listening, and buying. Geneva especially liked the spending money part, when clients paid serious attention to the profusion of colors and textures.
Once Rainn’s gaze landed on her, he seemed relieved of the bombardment of colors slamming into him. His tilted smile spread in welcome, and Geneva responded with every fiber of her being. Deep down, she wondered if he was real, or if everything he evoked was some weird fantasy.
“Hi.” Rainn’s low-voiced greeting accessed that place deep inside, a sense of belonging which had never been reached before.
“Hi, yourself.” She imagined a brainless smile stretched across her face.
He drew near. Everything around her receded and grew fuzzy, like a camera gone out of focus.
Moselle grazed Geneva’s arm while passing Rainn a large black coffee. His glance skittered a thanks and came right back to rest on Geneva, who finally managed to speak. “You’ve been busy?”
“Oh, yeah. Seems it takes me twenty times longer to get anything done when there’s a little someone constantly asking questions like why do I do this or that, or she needs a hand for an object she can’t get for herself.”
All wrapped up in the vision of Rainn, Geneva hadn’t missed Mia. She searched around and behind him. When her focus rested on his face again, he jerked his head toward the street.
Mia sat on the sidewalk bench with Eric and his pup, named Dear, a St. Bernard/German shepherd mix. Dear acted all puppy, but that was a misnomer when it came to size. She equaled a full-blown, large adult dog, except when she moved. She often stumbled over her own cartoonish feet.
Moselle’s face lit up when she spied her fiancé through the window. On her way out, she paused. “May I help you?”
The lone customer engrossed in cookbook titles glanced up. “I’m just looking, thank you.”
Moselle bustled out the door. She and Eric slid their hands together and kissed right there on the main street sidewalk.
Rainn made a gruff sound. Geneva read the banked fire. The look in his eye revealed he’d prefer to greet her in the same way.
Geneva’s lips parted, but her mind went blank.
Air rushed out of Rainn’s lungs before he gulped his coffee. He raised a brow, and she nodded in response to his unvoiced question.
“White chocolate raspberry is our flavor of the day. How did it taste?”
“You know I like it black, strong and full flavored rather than fancy flavored.” He took another cautious sip. “Moselle probably forgot and gave me her kind.”
“I’ll remind her you prefer black.” Geneva glanced out the window. Her daughter was still engrossed in Eric. “I imagine she’s trying to convince him to wear a cowboy hat for their wedding.”
“That’ll never happen,” they said at the same time.
The door opened with a tinkle and they both beamed at the sound of Mia’s giggles. Rainn waved at Mia before turning back to Geneva. “She’s the reason I’m here. I have another favor to ask.”
“Anything.” Oops. Not the right word.
“I wish…” he began in a teasing tone, and left it at that.
Just to raise a blush, no doubt.
“For Mia. I mean, anything for Mia.”
He snapped his fingers in aw-shucks regret.
Geneva tried to look stern until he pulled a frowny face. Then she punched him in the arm.
Rainn grew serious. “Mia has been extra agitated at night. Since we don’t have a rocking chair, and you offered, could she go to your place and spend some time on the porch glider?”
“Rainn Harris, you could have called me at midnight with that one. Of course, bring her by any time. And you don’t need to ask.”
He looked down and shuffled his feet. When their gazes next locked, his eyes were filled with moisture.
Geneva’s throat swelled in response.
“I’ll only need your help until Lindsay turns up.”