Friends in High Places Read online

  This was of course, how we got our information about Gino.

  “With all this talk of fate you sound like my crazy mom!” I said.

  “You never have appreciated how cool your mom is, and I bet she would agree with what I’m telling you. I really think it’s meant to be. I mean, it isn’t as if you two don’t know each other already, and Tom says Gino’s mentioned to him that you’re great to work with here at the bank. He said you go out of your way to help his clients secure their loans so he can get them into their new homes in record time.”

  “Now that’s a sexy endorsement! It just proves my point, Lilly! We do work well together, at least twice every month since he moved back here and that’s the whole story.”

  “I figure if he wanted to ask me out, he already would have. I’m sure not giving off any unfriendly vibes. It’s all I can do not to pass out when I look into his eyes while he goes on about his clients’ financial needs.”

  Lilly giggled and sounded so much like Daisy, I almost laughed. “So you do still have a crush on him!”

  “Duh!! I may be shy but I’m not dead.” I sat back down at my desk and shut my computer off. “Want to grab a cup of tea or something before you head home to cook dinner for your mob?”

  “Sure,” she said, scooping Daisy up and reaching for a clean pamper and wipes from the diaper bag. “Luck has it my mom is picking Little T. up from soccer practice and helping him with his homework and we’re having left-over meatloaf again tonight so Daisy and I are free as little birds for the next hour and ten! Just give us a second to take care of business, and we’ll be ready to roll.”

  “We fee!” Daisy added from her changing pad on the floor, as she wriggled around sideways and gave me an upside down grin. “We roll, Kat!”

  ***

  It was a gorgeous day. The leaves were already beginning to change and there was an early fall chill in the air so I took my time driving the few blocks to The Chatterbox Café which happens to be a living testimonial to its’ name.

  Always alive with laughter and constant chatter, it was the place to be seen in Mountainhome, Pennsylvania. Granted that wasn’t saying much since our tiny town didn’t take up more than four city blocks all stretched out along a lazy mountain road. Still, most people thought we were doing pretty good to have seen so much growth over the past hundred years or so.

  Back when Lilly and I were in grade school all we could boast about was a country store, a small elementary school, and a white-steepled church. Our families had to drive fifteen minutes or so into Mount Pocono for most everything else. Those buildings still stand today, but the only one still used for its’ original purpose is the church. Of course they’ve added on a few times and re-modeled, but it is one of our most historic buildings.

  The old school serves as our district courthouse, with add-ons, and the country store is now Aunt LuLu’s Attic, a charming antique and collectibles shop catering to the weekend tourist trade. It’s also where I sell my hand-painted china tea-sets.

  In my spare time I paint scenes of kittens dressed in Victorian clothing in human situations. I sign them Kit Kat, and they actually sell pretty well. The Chatterbox Café also takes them on consignment and they’ve been moving well there, too. The Pocono Mountains are a big year-round tourist attraction and most everyone makes some part of their living from the tourist trade.

  It’s kind of nice to still live in the town you grew up in and have always loved, but it really isn’t a good place to find the love of your life. Most of the population is made up of either rural Pennsylvania natives or former New Yorkers already coupled up who can’t afford to spend a half a million for a house, or the high taxes, so they move here and commute back to work.

  And then there are the many families from New Jersey who move here for the same reason and also for the benefits of living in these beautiful mountains which will always be a great place to raise your kids.

  I pulled into the jammed parking lot of The Chatterbox Café and parked in the back next to Lilly’s blue Honda. She was juggling both Daisy and an unopened umbrella stroller, so I jumped out to help.

  “Can you believe this crowd?” Lilly complained, as I took Daisy from her outstretched arms. “I guess this is what happens when you’re the only game in town.”

  Daisy gave me a sticky kiss on the cheek, and then went back to sucking on her Arrowroot biscuit.

  “Just give me another sec while I wipe this mess off my chest,” Lilly said, dabbing at her sweater with a wadded up baby wipe. “I look like a bum.”

  “You look like a busy mom. Trust me. Nobody cares.”

  “That’s easy for you to say dressed up in your heels and snappy little suit.”

  “Ha! I may play dress-up everyday, but you get to watch Days of Our Lives live, and take hydro-workout every morning at the gym with my mom and her geriatric friends. The grass is always greener.”

  Lilly laughed, “Yay for me.”

  We went inside and Daisy came alive, clapping her hands in delight at all the bustle and noise that filled the charming café. “This little one is going to be a party animal when she gets older,” I observed, clapping along with her as she stroller-danced to the piped-in music.

  “Don’t scare me,” Lilly said, “Let’s go up to the counter and order, then we’ll walk around and see if we see anybody we can sit with.”

  I carried both mugs of tea as we snaked our way around the tables in the main room, Daisy and her stroller took the lead as she called out random greetings as if she were hosting a party of her own to the delight of those already sitting at tables. We were just inside the back room when Lilly spun around, grabbed my arm and shook it enthusiastically, causing some of the tea to slosh out all over my shoe. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked, “Watch what you’re doing. Thank God I wore black today!”

  “Look who’s here,” Lilly practically shouted over the voices around us, “Over by the window! It’s Tom and Gino!”

  My heart leaped up and did the tango in my chest as I found myself looking right into his kind and intelligent eyes.

  “Look who’s here, Tom!” Gino stood and Tom looked up guiltily from the chicken salad croissant he’d been focusing on devouring. “Sit with us, Ladies,” Gino called, pulling the other two chairs out from the table.

  Lilly was on top of poor Tom in a flash. “Are you cheating on my meatloaf with that little French number, Thomas? I thought you loved my meatloaf!”

  Tom started to laugh good-naturedly. “Angel-Heart! What a nice surprise. I thought Little T. had soccer today.”

  “I bet you did,” Lilly said, dropping into the chair across from Tom. “My mom got him.”

  “Dada! Up!” Daisy screamed, as Tom swept her into his arms and gave her a bear hug and a bunch of loud birdie-kisses on her neck. She squealed and the couple at the next table laughed along with her.

  “Hey Princess, is that cookie good?” he asked, just as she thrust the wet remains of the biscuit into his startled mouth.

  Gino laughed loud and long. I’d never seen him so relaxed and alive and totally himself as he was here hanging out with his best friend. I realized for the first time since his return home, I was seeing the real Gino, and catching sight of the boy I’d crushed on all those years ago.

  “Tom, why did you pretend to love my meatloaf? Lilly pursued.

  He laughed. “Angel-Heart, I do love your meatloaf, but not every night. We’ve had it three times this week.”

  “Tonight makes three times and I made so much of it because of the power failure. Next time I find myself stuck with three pounds of defrosting ground beef, I’ll make chili instead,” she muttered, turning to Gino.

  “Where are your kids, Gino?”

  “They’re with my sister Lisa. She picks them up most days for me since our kids are around the same age and their schedules and after school activities are compatible with her hours at the restaurant.”

  “It must be really nice to come from such a big family,”
I said.

  “You don’t have a big family?” Gino asked.

  I felt my cheeks get hot and then hotter as I realized they were probably as red as my hair. “Not really. It’s just my mom and me now. She keeps busy with Meri’s Hideaway, that’s her bed and breakfast, and I don’t have any living siblings.” I drew a deep breath, “My older sister, Angelica, passed away from a heart condition about ten years ago. She was a model and on T.V. a lot…”

  Gino’s warm, heavy hand came down on mine and it was an actual shock to my system. It was as if an electric current passed between us. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I do remember her and I didn’t know. Most of the time I’m grateful for my big Italian family, especially for the help with the kids, but honestly, the rest of the time they drive me a little crazy. Having three little sisters is a lot like being trapped on a reality T.V. show.”

  We all laughed together and I was grateful he’d lightened the mood.

  “I remember how Lisa was always chasing after you in school. And Sophia and Carmella were cheerleaders for your wrestling team. That must have been nice for your mom.”

  He wrinkled his brow at me. “You went to Pocono High? I’m sure I’d remember you if we’d been in school together.”

  “Oh, we weren’t in school together. Lilly and I were in the eighth grade when you and Tom were seniors. We just liked going to the wrestling matches, and Lisa was in our class so we knew her.”

  He grinned at me. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a wrestling fan. Do you still follow the sport?”

  I almost choked on my tea.

  Lilly burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me? We weren’t fans of wrestling; we were fans of the wrestlers.”

  Tom gave her a peck on the cheek. “Really; I was on that team too. Were you my secret little groupie back then?”

  Lilly smiled at him. “Kind of…and don’t get all excited about it. We were both jailbait for you two ‘old geezers’ back then!”

  Gino and I glanced at each other and then we each looked down into our mugs. This conversation was getting a little too personal, too quickly, for two business colleagues.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Tom said, “If all of our schedules permit this Saturday night, why don’t we all get together at our place for dinner. You can bring the kids, Gino. My wife is a fabulous cook and I’d love to see her show her skills off to my best friend from back in the day. What do you say, Angel-Heart? Are you game?”

  Lilly grinned back at him. “Great idea; and I promise no meatloaf.”

  Gino said, “Thanks, then we’ll come! The kids will love it.”

  But I suddenly couldn’t find my voice to answer and I was grateful when Lilly turned to me and said. “So it’s a date. We’ll see all of you Saturday night at seven. You’re bringing wine, your appetite and two hungry kids, Gino, and Kat will bring dessert.”

  I nodded, “Anybody like apple pie?”

  Gino caught my eye again and smiled. “It’s my favorite, Kat. Now I have something to look forward to for the rest of the week, but don’t tell my Mama I’ll be cheating on her famous cannolis.”

  “Thanks a lot, Gino!” Lilly scolded, “Very funny.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  MERI

  I’ve lived in these mountains for all of my life and hands down, fall is my favorite season. But if you ask me, even the winter here with all its’ snow and ice has quite a few good points.

  Who doesn’t love to cozy up to a crackling fire with a nice glass of merlot and a great book, or an even better friend or…lover; especially when the wind is blowing through the pines as if it was a howling witch while the icy snowflakes are pinging against the window glass like wayward BB shot.

  But after Christmas passes and life returns to normal, we often get a little more winter than we think we need and we’re all ready when spring finally arrives to transform our frozen world into something vital and alive; bursting with greenery, wild flowers and my favorite lilacs.

  It definitely brings sweet relief and in no time it's summer: all glorious and golden. It’s pretty cool to live in a place where you can swim all day up at Promised Land State Park and still need to bring a sweater to the Fourth of July fireworks.

  Most of the time it’s a gift to live here and I thank the Lord every morning when I can stand at the kitchen sink and check out the activity in my wooded yard. There’s always something going on out there; better than T.V. most days.

  Today a brisk wind is whipping at the tall trees, causing hundreds of bright autumn leaves to swirl through the air like tiny magic carpets. The pesky squirrels I like more than I should dart all over the place chattering about their luck in having an unexpected visit from me, their anonymous nut fairy.

  I make a note to call Franny, my assistant here at Meri’s Mountain Hideaway, my Bed and Breakfast. It’s been in the family for generations and once again it’s time to start the process of raking the leaves up and bagging them for pick-up. Franny’s always happy to send her eighth grader, Billy, across the street to do my yard work. Of course I slip some extra money into his pocket and it always gets me a hug. And it’s time for his dad, Mark, to come over, too, and drain the pool for the season.

  Franny, her husband, Mark, Billy and his little sister, Ann, are great neighbors. I’ve known Franny forever. Her mom, Liz, and I are as close as sisters since we grew up right here across the street from each other. So her daughter's and mine have always been close; Kat and Lilly, Franny and Angelica were meant to be friends from the start. Liz’s house is as huge as mine and it’s nice they can all live in that big house together.

  My daughter, Kat, is almost thirty now, and still single, but three years ago she bought her own home a mile up the mountain in Canadensis, the next little town here in Barrett Township. Granted, it was a great buy, and her two bedroom cottage is on a huge lot with a spectacular view of the valley, but in my day, girls waited for marriage to become homeowners.

  All in all, I’m grateful she’s only a mile away. Now-a-days’ most of my friend’s kids have moved to hell and back and they rarely bother to come home, even at Christmas.

  And Kat was so excited when I helped her turn her second bedroom into a studio where she can design her hand-painted tea-sets. They really are beautiful and they sell great around here so I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up going national with them. With the internet, apparently anything’s possible now.

  My kettle whistles and I stir honey into my steaming Kit Kat mug, the one I love best from Kat’s collection. I always drink my tea out on the sun porch off the kitchen, so I grab my angel cards; then settle back into the pillows of my favorite chaise lounge.

  Ever since my daughter Angelica passed away my angel cards have been a great comfort to me. I like to think she’s with me for this bit of time each morning when I sit out here.

  After holding the cards to my heart and saying a prayer, I shuffle the deck, cut the cards; then pick one for my daily message from my personal angel. At least that’s how I like to think of it.

  Today I got the ‘Live in Love’ card: ‘Love is the language of the soul. Breathe in the Universal Love that is your true birthright and with every breath you take, allow love to flow through your entire being and infuse your every word. And as you pass through

  the hours of your day, in every action and interaction you engage in, may you embrace love as the only clear path to happiness.’

  Wow! Angel advice doesn’t get any better than that. I can always count on these cards to kick my day off with some positive thoughts.

  Just then the back door bell tinkles and Liz yells, “Anybody home?”

  “Just us dust bunnies! Grab some tea and come on out here,” I call to her.

  “I brought my own,” Liz says as she breezes in and sits in her favorite wicker rocker; then heaves her feet up onto the flowered ottoman in front of it. “Getting brisk out there…I think we’re in for it this year.”

  “You never can tell,” I say, shuffling the card
s before placing them on the ottoman in front of her. “Cut the cards and pick a winner,” I suggest.

  Liz sighs as if I’ve asked her to scrub the toilet, but she does as I ask.

  “You got the ‘Time to move on’ card,” I say, giggling.

  Liz snorts, “Figures, I just got here.”

  “Sometimes I think the angels are just messing with us. But the deeper meaning of the card is that it may be time for you to move past either an event or sometimes it means it’s time to change jobs…or move on from a relationship.”

  Liz looks thoughtful as she takes another sip of her steaming tea. “Well, in my case it probably just means it’s time for me to get my hind-quarters up from your rocker and get back to business at home. Jack is bugging me to go to the gym with him and you know how much I love that.”

  “You should come to water work-out with Lilly and me. It’s more fun.”

  “So I hear, but getting wet in this weather doesn’t appeal to me any more than spin class. That’s Jack’s new obsession.”

  “I hear you; sounds nasty to me, too.”

  “Maybe I got your card by mistake, Meri,” Liz says, “I think you’re the one who needs to make some life changes and move forward. I know you love it here, just like I do, but it isn’t exactly the best place to meet men. And you’re too young to give up on finding love again.”

  “Funny you should say that. I was just thinking maybe I should give dating a try. My cards have been all about love lately. Sometimes, though, I wish The Pocono

  Mountains were more fertile ground for finding single, old guys. You know I love my life and I’m not unhappy, but if I were to find one last love, I know it would be even richer for it.”

  “Now that’s the spirit,” Liz says. “Why don’t I plan a dinner party and invite you and Jack’s dentist. He’s a widower and you wouldn’t have to pay for your false teeth when you’re really old and need a pair.”

  “Very funny,” I say, “I’ve met Jack’s dentist and he isn’t my type, and the prospect of free false teeth doesn’t make him any more attractive. Remember he was at that barbeque you had Labor Day. I’m pretty sure if romantic love is in my cards, it will have to find me because I have no idea where to start looking at this age. The local nursing home isn’t exactly a hot party spot. And that’s where most of the single senior men are these days.”