Milk Money (12 page)

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m not sure. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to scan them and e-mail them to me as soon as possible. That way I can complete the work for your farm.”

Questions popped through her brain. If Frank finished his audit for their farm, did that mean she would have no contact with him anymore? He touched her hand. “What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, not wanting to voice her concerns. “Nothing. I’m okay.”

When they were finished with their lunch, they strolled the fairgrounds again. Frank walked back with her to the booth before he left the event. Christine and Kelly immediately surrounded her, wanting to know what was going on between her and Frank.

“What’s wrong, Emily?” asked Christine as they pulled into her driveway.

Emily shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked to the front door. Emily yawned, looking forward to getting into her soft bed and going to sleep. She stopped walking, looking at her friends. “Do you guys really feel like visiting right now? I was going to go to bed.”

Christine patted her shoulder. “We’ll try not to wear you out too much. Let’s make some coffee and talk for a bit.”

Kelly agreed. “Yes, a cup of coffee sounds like a good idea.”

Emily walked up the steps, concerned about the full darkness cloaking her house since she usually left the porch light on. She made a mental note to change the lightbulb. The hinges on the screen door creaked as she entered.

“Happy birthday!” The dark kitchen flooded with light, and a sea of familiar faces filled the room.

Emily placed her hand against her mouth. “Oh my goodness.”

“Hey, Emily!” Laura Cooper strolled into the kitchen.

“Mom!” Emily shrieked, pulling the older woman into an embrace. The familiar scent of Laura’s jasmine perfume filled Emily with euphoria, and tears gathered in her eyes.

Kelly pressed a tissue into Emily’s hand. “Happy birthday, Emily!”

She glanced at Kelly and Christine. “You two kept this from me all day!”

Emily released her mother, wiping her eyes. “Mom, you look thinner since you left.”

Laura swatted Emily’s arm. “I’ve been fine.”

Emily shook her head, still trying to take in the whole atmosphere. “I was wondering why you didn’t call me today!” She ignored the numerous guests, eager to speak with Laura.

“Honey, you know I wanted to call you today, but I can’t keep secrets. I know I would’ve accidentally said something to spoil Kelly and Christine’s surprise!”

Emily’s joy bubbled to the surface, almost gushing forward. Crepe paper streamers fluttered when the wind blew in from the open screen door.

Emily stared at the crowd, touched. “This is one of the biggest surprises I’ve received in my entire life.”

A strong, unique scent filled the air, and Emily rushed over to the stove, opening the lid on one of the pots. “You made me chitterlings!” The pig intestines, cooked to perfection, were one of her favorite foods. Serving herself, she piled some on a plate and placed a generous amount of mustard on the side. She took a bite, savoring the flavor.

Her friends from church were present as well as Cameron. As she continued to eat her food, Christine took her aside. “I’m sorry about Cameron coming.”

“Why is he here?” asked Emily.

Christine rolled her eyes. “When we were at the grocery store getting the stuff for the party, Cameron was nearby and we didn’t realize it. He overheard us talking about your party, and he asked if he could come. I couldn’t tell him no.”

Later, when she opened the gifts, she was pleased to see the assortment of perfumes and lotions people gave her. She also received some gift cards to her favorite clothing store. However, she was shocked Cameron gave her pearl earrings. “Thanks, Cameron,” she said, giving him a small smile.

The party lasted until well into the night. Once the guests were gone and Christine and Kelly had put away the leftovers, it was close to midnight, but Emily was still high on energy. She sat on the porch with her stepmother on the large swing. They swayed in the gentle summer breeze, and Emily was happy to have Laura home again. “How’s Lisa doing?”

“She’s fine. We had a nice visit.”

“Has Becky been calling you much?”

Laura looked away for a few seconds. “You know how strained things are between Becky and me. She calls every few weeks. I just wish we could settle our differences and have a better relationship. I’ve been praying for a better relationship with both daughters for a long time, so I’m hoping things can change between us.”

Emily patted Laura’s shoulder, praying things worked out with her girls. She knew Laura had divorced at a young age and her ex-husband had been granted custody of their two small children. Her husband had hired a good lawyer, and he’d used Laura’s past convictions with drugs against her. She’d cleaned her life up by the time she was married and had children, but her husband’s lawyer was able to convince the judge that the father would be a better parent because he’d never had the substance abuse problems Laura had had in the past. Laura had told her that she always regretted losing custody of her children, even though she had generous visitation rights. Her daughters were now in their early thirties, and she wondered if the strained relationship they had was due to the fact that Laura did not raise them herself.

Even though they’d talked about it on the phone, she told Laura about the audit and about finding her father’s tax returns. “Mom, we really should have been more involved in the financial side of things,” Emily commented as the swing continued to sway.

Laura touched Emily’s hand. “Honey, I know we should have. But there’s nothing we can do but move forward.”

Emily again mentioned the correspondence Frank had found with a Realtor in her father’s files. “He said it appeared as if he was planning to sell the farm. I told him he must be mistaken. Are you sure Dad never mentioned this to you?”

Her stepmother remained silent as the swing continued to rock.

“Mom, what are you hiding?”

“Honey, I wasn’t completely honest with you when you mentioned this to me before. I didn’t want to tell you this, but Frank is right. Shortly before your father died, he was contemplating selling this farm.”

Emily’s mouth dropped open. “But … why? Daddy always loved farming!”

“I know, but he confided to me that for the last two years profits had been bad for the farm.”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Why didn’t he ever say anything to me about this?”

She touched Emily’s arm. “He didn’t want you to worry about it, that’s why.”

“But, I still don’t understand. Frank would have said something about our farm not being profitable, wouldn’t he?”

“Emily, remember he’s not finished auditing the books.” She frowned.

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but … before your father passed, I could see how much the financial strain of the farm was bothering him. I tried to get him to hire an accountant to go through his tax returns and stuff to see if he may have been missing some important write-offs.”

“And he didn’t agree to do it, right?”

“He reacted worse than you did when I made my suggestion. He got angry with me. You were at a church function that night, and we argued about it for hours. Honey, your father was good with numbers, but he was not an accountant and he was no CPA. I know we hear about farms selling out sometimes, but I knew there were farms that did pretty well. I figured if he got advice from an accountant, he may have gotten an even better return when he filed his taxes and when he invested his money. You always hear about tax laws changing and such, and I wanted him to see a professional about his farm.”

Emily rubbed her head. “Is this why you wanted Frank to audit our books?”

Laura nodded. “Yes. I’ve been worried about this for a long time, and since Paul is gone, I’m even more worried about it. We seem to be making it financially day by day, but I just want to make sure your father knew what he was doing when he accounted for this farm and when he filed his taxes in the past.”

This newfound information made Emily’s head ache. She silently prayed for strength before deciding to tell her mother something else that was on her mind. “Mom, I think I have a big problem.”

“What is it? Has something else happened since I’ve been gone?”

“Well, you know I’ve been spending some time with Frank.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“You say his name like you’re familiar with him. I know he has feelings for you, too.”

“How do you know that?”

“Just from talking to him on the phone. He seems concerned about the farm, more concerned than a stranger should be. When I speak to him, I feel like I’m talking to a friend.” They were silent for a few minutes as they continued to rock on the swing. “Maybe the Lord is trying to tell you it’s time to move on since your engagement to Jamal ended.”

“I don’t think so.” They rocked well into the night, and she told her mother all about why Frank was the wrong man for her.

“God will never leave you nor forsake you. I want all of you to remember that when you leave church today,” said Pastor Brown to the congregation. Frank closed his Bible, still thinking about the words. He sat in the pew beside Emily and her mother. After all these weeks, he’d finally gotten to meet Laura.

When the service ended, Emily took Frank’s hand, causing sparks of delight to dance through his fingers. She gestured toward Laura. “We’re going out to lunch at the Wagon Wheel. Did you want to come with us?”

Frank shook his head. He glanced at the ushers still in the back of the church.

“In case you’re interested, Devon Crandall is the one on the left,” she told him.

He squeezed her hand. “Thanks,” he mumbled. Emily and Laura exited the church, and Frank swallowed, still working up the courage to approach the older man. He breathed deeply as he walked up to the usher. “Devon Crandall?” The man gazed at Frank, his dark eyes warm and friendly.

“Yes?”

“My name is Franklin Reese.”

The usher smiled, shaking Frank’s hand. “I’ve noticed you coming to our church recently. It’s hard not to notice a new member in a church this small.”

Frank sighed, not wanting Devon to get the wrong idea. “Well, I’m not a member of this church.”

“If you’re a member of God’s family, then that makes you a member of this church.”

“No, I don’t think I’m a member of God’s family, either.”

The man’s smile faded, and he squeezed Frank’s hand. “You look like you need somebody to talk to, son.”

“I don’t want to hold you up.”

“There’s no hold up.” He placed his hands on his hips, continuing to assess Frank. “People are always telling me how perceptive I am, and right about now I think you need a friend. Would you like to come to my house for lunch?”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“Oh, it’s no bother. My wife usually cooks too much food anyway.” He patted his gut. “I certainly don’t need those extra calories.”

“Okay.”

Devon beamed. “Good. I’ll just let my wife know you’re coming. You can follow us to our house.”

A half hour later, Frank shared lunch with Devon and his wife. The tiny salt-and-pepper-haired woman welcomed Frank into her home, embracing him warmly. When he’d commuted to the Crandalls’ house, his queasy stomach had settled from his drinking binge the night before, and he was able to enjoy the tasty pot roast, mashed potatoes, and green salad. “You and Devon can have your dessert in the library,” suggested Devon’s wife. After placing coffee and cake on a silver tray and carrying it into the library, she left, saying she had some things to do around the house.

The blinds were open, and bright sunlight spilled into the room.

“So, tell me, Franklin—”

“You can call me Frank.”

“Okay, Frank. Tell me why you approached me in church.”

Frank stirred his coffee, wondering where to start. Did he explain the anger he had for his parents and the death of his wife, which drove him to drink? Did he tell of his budding feelings for Emily? “Since Paul Cooper died, Laura and Emily needed help with their bookkeeping. They contacted my employer, and I was sent to do the job. Emily mentioned you ran an alcoholic support group.”