“It does. Sometimes you just need a change.” He gave her a friendly smile. “I brought you something.”
“I’d say you brought me a truckload of somethings, Joe.”
“No, something just for you. Wait.” He went back into the cab of the truck and came out with a bouquet of flowers, which he presented to her. “For you, m’lady.”
“For me? Why?” She brought the flowers up to her nose to take in their fragrance.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, pushing the cap up from his forehead. “You must seem familiar because our families knew each other. I had to have come across photos of you or your great-aunt, which means, of course, that we are officially friends from way back. A very good thing, because I have no friends in Pullman, and it’s getting kind of lonely being in that big old house by myself. But I don’t want to be presumptuous, so I’m asking you, Kathleen, will you be my friend?”
The gesture took her breath away. From Ricky, flowers were a bribe or an apology, but from Joe, they seemed the nicest possible gesture. “I would love to be your friend, Joe Arneson,” she said, flashing him a smile. Thank goodness Marcia wasn’t there. With one snide remark, she’d turn this lovely exchange into something sordid.
“That went well,” he said, almost to himself, and then to her, “Don’t worry, I’m not a demanding friend. The relationship won’t take up much of your time.”
“I’m not worried about that at all.” And now he was the one smiling. Sheepishly, she excused herself to put the flowers in water. Luckily, the store had no shortage of vases. She found a particularly pretty one made of carnival glass and unwrapped the cellophane from around the flowers, noting that they came from the local florist down the street. Great. She almost laughed aloud thinking about how all of Pullman would know that Pearl Arneson’s grandson had bought Edna Clark’s grand-niece flowers. The whole town would have them married off by the time the gossip died down.
After she’d arranged the flowers, she returned to the back room to help Joe, but he was nearly finished unloading. “I didn’t have a whole truckful,” he said, hoisting an upholstered chair with ease. Obligingly, she stepped out of the way as he brought in the last few items. Having finished the task successfully, he brushed his hands together.
“So now you have the rest of the day off?” Kathleen asked.
“Believe me, there’s plenty of work waiting for me,” Joe said. “But I do have time to take my new friend out to lunch, if she’s agreeable.”
“You mean me?” Kathleen asked, and immediately wanted to bite her tongue. Of course he meant her.
“If you can spare the time. There’s a pretty cool-looking restaurant about two blocks down the street. The Pine Cone Family Restaurant. Rumor has it that the pie is to die for. Don’t worry, just because they call it a family restaurant, you’re not obligated to bring your family. Friends are allowed. I checked.”
“That’s good to know,” she replied good-naturedly. “I can’t leave just yet, but Marcia should be here soon. How about I meet you there at twelve thirty?”
“Works for me,” he said. “Do you need directions for the Pine Cone?” His tone was teasing. “I can map it if you want.”
“Trust me, I can find it.”
At twelve twenty, Kathleen was out the door, heading down the sidewalk. She felt her mood lighten with every step and fought to keep from grinning. The words I have a friend came to mind, and the thought made her ridiculously happy. She’d had friends before, of course. Most of them had fallen by the wayside once Ricky came into the picture. He liked having her to himself, and when they’d moved away from her hometown, keeping up with other people became troublesome. Writing letters was unsatisfying, and Ricky blew a gasket when he saw long-distance calls on the phone bill, so she rarely made them and kept it short when she did. Eventually, her friendships tapered off until all she had left was a handful of cards at Christmastime and occasional gossip passed on by her mother.
So many of her friends had moved on in their lives, their connections dwindling over time. Once she arrived in Pullman, she deliberately cut ties, not wanting to leave a trail that Ricky could follow. Did she have any friends at all? She and Marcia were friendly, but that was the extent of it. She wouldn’t say they were friends, exactly. Her interactions with others in town—her customers, neighbors, fellow store owners—were all warm and accessible. There were any number of people she could call in an emergency, but no one she could call just to go to lunch.