Page 41 of Tangled Memories
Stormy glanced at her daughter. “Did Tyler buy anything from you?”
“No. He doesn’t have any kids to buy things for. He used to have a darling daughter like me, but she died and went to kid’s heaven.” She looked up at Tyler. “That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Exactly right,” he said.
Stormy frowned. She had mixed emotions about someone discussing death with Liane. But the child seemed to be handling it just fine. “That might be a bit over-priced. People want bargains.”
Liane looked from her mother to Tyler, and with that sixth sense that children often have of an adult storm brewing, she retreated to her end of the table and began rearranging the display of toys.
Tyler closed in on Stormy. “That wasn’t nice. Did you have to contradict me in front of the child?”
“I’m her mother. I know what’s best. I want her to grow up with good sense.”
“Fat chance with you as a role model.”
“You can try baiting me all day long. It won’t do you a bit of good.”
“So don’t you want to know where I’ve been all week?” he said grumpily.
She smiled archly. “Slumming?”
He ignored the sarcasm. “You could call it that. I reviewed your trial transcript and Hadley Wilson’s testimony and compared them. Then I followed the route you took from your front door to the bank, on to Epcot Center and Walt Disney World. That was a nice touch, by the way—separate hotel rooms.”
Tyler had also madea two-day detour and spent some time at his refuge, rationalizing that he wasn’t really walking off the job. On the slim chance that Stormy did have access to his client’s money and was to retrieve it in his absence, he’d find out soon enough. After all, how easily could an ex-con with her seven-year-old daughter in tow vanish into thin air? And he’d needed the calm and serenity being at the cabin always gave him.
But this time, the cabin had felt…empty. He had spent hours imagining Stormy and Liane there, and the images had stayed with him as he tackled the mundane tasks of reviewing phone messages, answering mail, and paying bills. He had stalked through the unfinished loft a half dozen times with an eye to how it could be finished to suit a child.
But it wasn’t a loft in the finest sense of the word. When the old barn had collapsed, it became a storage space for old saddles, ropes, canning jars, and sweat-stained hats that smelled of old hay and older men. Things Grandma Mangus thought too good to throw out.
It was at that point that Tyler realized how woefully short of logic and reality his imagination was falling. His refuge would be a great place for weekends and summer holidays had he a family. Time to rethink his life. Stormy Maxwell hadn’t the least inkling of his infatuation—at least of its depth.
“So you reviewed the transcripts again,” Stormy said, yanking him back to the present. “What’s your point?”
A clump of ice had settled around her heart.Fear, he guessed.
“Well, here we have two consenting adults checking into separate hotel rooms… I find that peculiar.”
Stormy’s eyes darted to her daughter, her table, everywhere but his. “That’s not so peculiar,” she said with a careful absence of expression. “In this day and age. After all, Hadley and I weren’t all that well acquainted. We were newly dating, and I had Liane to consider. No way I’d put her in a room with a man who was all but a stranger.”
He assessed her words, looking for the lie that should be there. “You know, I half believe that.”
While they were thus caught up, the aisles had been filling with a hum of activity. Shoppers seemed to have arrived out of thin air, and many stopped to examine Stormy’s display. Personal conversation was put on hold as Stormy gave her attention to marketing her wares. He moved away occasionally, elbowed out by aggressive shoppers, but he was never very distant.
Her first sale was one of the giraffes. She put the money into a cigar box that served as her cash register, then flicked a smile at Tyler. “Now I truly feel like I’m in business.”
Liane, too, began to sell her wares. She was so cute and not a bit shy. Kids were flocking to her wee stand. While Stormy was busy with another customer, Liane had to make change. Tyler helped her.
At noon, Stormy ran out of change. Tyler went to the office to exchange a handful of twenty-dollar bills for ones and fives.
People commented that the animals were perfect for Easter baskets. A grandmother of nine bought a toy for each grandchild. Boyfriends bought for girlfriends. And vice versa. A child of four or so set up a squall when her mother refused her a toy. Tyler was ready to buy the toddler the animal until the mother finally relented.
Liane complained of hunger. Tyler fetched hot dogs and soft drinks.
After each sale, Stormy pulled replacements from beneath the table. Sometime after three, she had emptied the boxes. Tyler went to her car and retrieved the rest of the toys.
Stormy sold a teddy bear wearing a plaid waistcoat. Then she sold a highchair, which looked like an antique.
Liane became weary. Tyler borrowed a lawn chair from a nearby merchant and put Liane on his lap, where, hugging her own cash box, she curled into slumber, oblivious to the noise and chatter around her.