No Ordinary Joe. Michelle Celmer

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No Ordinary Joe - Michelle  Celmer


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you got on with your life?”

      “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I have a daughter to care for and a bar to run.”

      She propped her hands on her hips. “You know what I mean.”

      He did, but his love life, or lack of one, was nobody else’s business. “I don’t have time for a relationship. Especially with a virtual stranger.”

      “If you got to know her she wouldn’t be a stranger, now would she? Besides, it doesn’t have to be her. There are plenty of other eligible women in town. You’ve been out of the pool for so long, would it hurt to get your feet a little wet?”

      Past experience had taught him that he wasn’t much of a swimmer. Knowing his luck, he would slip on the edge, fall into the deep end and get sucked under.

       Chapter Four

      Lindy’s friend Zoey had awesome taste in clothes. Reily dumped both bags out onto the bed to sort them. Other than undergarments, she wouldn’t have to buy a single stitch of clothing. There were jeans and shorts and shirts, blouses, T-shirts and tank tops. There were even two bikini bathing suits and a couple of luxuriously soft satin nightshirts. Everything looked brand-new, or close to it, and had been freshly laundered.

      As she neatly folded and tucked everything into the dresser drawers, singing to herself to keep her vocal cords conditioned, she heard the engine of Joe’s truck roar to life. She glanced out the side window just in time to see him slowly backing out of the driveway. He wasn’t gone two minutes when she heard a noise behind her and whipped around to find Lily Ann standing in the bedroom doorway. “Well, hi there.”

      “That song was pretty.”

      Reily smiled. “Oh, thank you. My mommy used to sing that to me.”

      Lily Ann nodded at the bed and said matter-of-factly, “Mr. Pete keeps his clothes in a black garbage bag too. And he sleeps in the park, because Aunt Sue says he gots a couple of screws loose. But I like him ‘cause he makes funny faces and talks to himself.”

      The little girl had just compared her to a mentally challenged homeless person. Swell. But she didn’t bother trying to explain why her clothes had been in garbage bags.

      “Honey, are you supposed to be here?” Reily asked. She was willing to bet Joe wouldn’t appreciate his daughter hanging around with a total stranger.

      She got her answer when a female voice called firmly from outside, “Lily Ann Miller, are you up there?”

      Her lower lip lodged guiltily between her teeth, Lily Ann spun around and scurried for the door. Reily heard the slap of her rubber flip-flops as she charged down the stairs.

      Reily walked to the door and looked out to the ground below. At the base of the stairs stood a portly woman of about sixty. Her salt-and-pepper hair was twisted into a loose bun at the back of her head, and she wore a sundress and rubber flip-flops. She was as short as she was wide, with a warm, friendly smile.

      “You must be Reily,” she called, shading the sun from her eyes with one pudgy hand. “I’m Sue. Sorry if Lily Ann was bothering you.”

      “She wasn’t,” Reily assured her.

      “It must be hot as blazes up there. Why don’t you come down for a cold glass of lemonade?”

      It was hot, and though Reily had hoped to stop at the thrift store on her way back to work, a cold glass of lemonade did sound refreshing. And of course she wanted to get to know her new neighbor, and maybe learn a little more about her boss/landlord. The shopping could wait until her break tomorrow.

      “I’d love one,” she told Sue. “Give me a second to grab my purse and lock up.”

      She located the key Joe had mentioned in the cabinet above the stove, slung her purse over her shoulder and, leaving the windows open for circulation, locked the door behind her as she headed down the stairs. She crossed the driveway and knocked on the side door of the house.

      “Come on in!” Sue called.

      The screen door squeaked on its hinges as Reily pulled it open. A rush of cool air enveloped her as she stepped into the spacious, updated kitchen. With its granite countertops, cherry cupboards and stainless steel appliances, it looked like something out of an issue of Better Homes and Gardens. Sue stood at the stove stirring the contents of a large silver pot. Whatever she was making smelled delicious.

      “Come on in and have a seat,” she said.

      Reily sat at the kitchen table. From the other room she could hear cartoons playing on the television.

      “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I’ve got a pot of chili simmering.”

      She was starving, actually, but she didn’t want to take advantage. “I have to get back to the bar soon.”

      “It’s white chicken chili,” Sue said, clearly trying to tempt her. “It’s my specialty.”

      Well, if it was her specialty Reily didn’t want to offend her or hurt her feelings. “Maybe just a bite.”

      Sue spooned a generous helping into a bowl, plunked a spoon in and set it in front of her. It looked like more of a soup than an actual chili, with a white base, big chunks of chicken and several varieties of beans. Reily took a bite and her taste buds when berserk. “Oh, my gosh! This is amazing.

      “It’s Joe’s favorite,” Sue said, pulling a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge. She took two glasses down from the cupboard and filled them. She set one in front of Reily, then lowered herself into the chair opposite her. “Joe tells me that you’ve hit a spell of bad luck.”

      That was putting it mildly. “I’m trying to look at it as a temporary diversion. An adventure,” she said. What she was trying hard not to think about was all the hard-earned money she had lost, and all of her worldly possessions gone forever. It would take hard work, but she would rebuild and start over. She was tough. And she was used to getting by on very little. “I figure Nashville will still be there when I pull my life back together.”

      “Well, you couldn’t have landed in a better place. You won’t find a friendlier town than Paradise.”

      “If it hadn’t been for Officer Jeffries and Joe and Lindy, I don’t know what I would have done. I doubt anyone in Denver would have been so willing to help a stranger.”

      “P.J. is a good man. Though he was quite the hellion when he was a youngster. I used to babysit him when I was in junior high school. He always gave me a run for my money.”

      “You’ve lived here your whole life?”

      Sue sipped her lemonade. “My great-great-grandfather was one of the founders of the town. My father built this house for my brother, Joe Senior, and the house next door for me and my husband, Walter.”

      “So you and your husband live next door?”

      “It’s just me now. Walter passed four years ago last month, and we lost my brother Joey almost a year to the day later.”

      “P.J. mentioned that Joe Senior used to own Joe’s Place.”

      “He started that bar twenty-odd years ago. I loved my brother to death, don’t get me wrong. He was a good father, a good person, but a businessman he wasn’t. That’s why my nephew, Joey, went and got himself a degree in business. With his dad’s heart problems, I think he knew that someday he would be taking over the bar. His dad would be so proud of everything he’s done. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t enough for Beth.”

      “Beth?”

      Sue lowered her voice. “Joe’s wife. They were high school sweethearts. But after a few years of marriage she decided she needed to find herself, or some such nonsense. So she just up and left.” She shook her head, clucking disappointedly. “She broke that poor man’s heart. Lily Ann doesn’t seem


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