A Silver Lining Page 3

  Groaning in unison, the young men and women fidgeted in their seats. Mitch crossed across the back of the room and started down the center steps. At the third row from the bottom, he stopped next to a young woman whose long straight hair reached nearly to her belt. “I hope the revelation doesn’t come as too much of a shock.” He was rewarded with glimpse of light brown eyes and a shy smile. Next to her a good-looking young man, his dark hair gelled stylishly, typed on a tablet. When he paused and glanced up, Mitch caught his eye. “Getting ready for your next class?”

  “No, sir. Taking notes.”

  Really? Mitch continued on to the base of the auditorium. Not often one of his students took notes. He shook his head and found himself in front of the student with the long, black bangs, his arm propped in the air by his hand. Mitch nodded.

  “Maybe for your generation.”

  Distracted by the diligent student earlier, Mitch had to think a minute before he realized the student was referring to his comment about entering the work world. He slapped a hand over his chest, feigning a heart attack, causing a ripple of laughter throughout the auditorium. “Wait a minute. You’re the guy who thinks this class is an easy A, right? I think you just lost it, buddy. First rule in my class is never insult the professor about his age.”

  Waiting for the uproar to die down, Mitch went back to the podium and took a drink of water from a glass on the shelf inside. He gripped the stand with both hands and stared out across the sea of young faces. “I’m not sure if that’s an observation on the current state of the economy or a forecast of things to come. Either way, I’m getting a little worried. However, I’d like you to sit back—” he cast a glance at the flip-flop student, “—if you haven’t already, and watch a short film on recreation in America and around the world. At the conclusion of the film, I want you to choose an activity and put it into practice…”

  One student groaned.

  “…and then write a five-hundred word essay on your experience.”

  The rest of the students groaned.

  Mitch grinned as he left the classroom. Despite the size of the class, he got a huge kick out of his eighteen-year-old students.

  The topic of work reminded him he had a fence to mend with one Linda Lafferty, Finance Administrator.

  ****

  Linda wiped one last speck of dust from her desk and stood back. Middle of the week, her third day of employment, and housekeeping still hadn’t managed to find their way to her office. But at least the desk was clean. She surveyed the dusty shelves and dirty windows. Two bedraggled plants hung on either side of a huge window overlooking the garden she had exclaimed about earlier, the one where she had a close encounter with the relaxed professor whose office happened to be one floor down.

  “Ms. Lafferty, what are you doing?” Anna Briggs entered, a printer in her arms. “The housekeeping staff will clean your office. They were on their way over this morning but got sidetracked by an accident in the dining hall.”

  Linda eyed the two hanging plants, hanging being an appropriate word, because both plants were, if not already, close to being dead. “I don’t mind, Anna. The sooner my desk is clean the sooner I can start work, right?”

  Anna turned to set the printer on a corner table.

  “Wait until I wipe the top.” Linda dusted and watched Anna set the printer on the table.

  “Getting moved—” Matt Berk entered and skidded to a stop. “You’re cleaning?” Brows drawn, he cast a glance at Anna. “Where’s housekeeping?”

  “They were sidetracked to the dining hall. I told Ms. Lafferty to wait but…” She turned an eye on her boss and grimaced.

  “I told you I don’t mind, Anna.” The toe of Linda’s shoe sent something skittering across the floor. She bent and picked up a smooth stone. “What’s this?”

  Matt grinned. “Who knows?” He eyed the two hanging plants. “His wife kept bringing Judd new plants and they’d be dead before the end of the semester. These two things are on their last legs. Would you like me to get rid of them?”

  “No, Matt, I’ll take care of removing the pots but thanks anyway.” Linda tossed her cleaning cloth on top of the printer.

  “I was about to ask you to join my wife and me for some frozen yogurt. Besides, you need a break.”

  Linda contemplated the office. Meeting another woman would be nice. “I should—”

  Handing Linda her purse, Anna shooed her out of the office. “Come on, Matt, maybe between the two of us we can get her out of the office long enough for housekeeping do their job.” She propped both hands on her ample hips. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a little different from when Judd used to be here.” She smiled and picked up a round piece of chocolate from her desk. “I’ll just take my break, as well.” She bit into the chocolate exposing a creamy white marshmallow center. “Um-m. These little goodies came all the way from Pennsylvania. My sister sent me a whole box.”

  Laughing, Linda waved goodbye and entered the hall. “My secretary appears to have a weakness for sweets. Good to know.” Linda followed Matt to the elevator. “I gather Judd wasn’t big on cleaning.”

  Matt laughed as they entered the elevator. “He always said when they cleaned his office, he needed a week to find anything. After a couple of arguments over lost folders, housekeeping refused to clean his office.” The doors opened on the ground floor and they exited into an expansive lobby.

  Linda scrutinized the glass-enclosed area. “What is this area used for?” Hit with a sudden gust of warm air, she shrugged off her sweater. Apparently only the offices were air conditioned.

  Matt slipped out of his jacket and slung the coat over his shoulder. “Not much of anything. Big waste of space if you ask me. The entire end of this building is glass, probably designed before heating and cooling costs skyrocketed. But the greenery seems to appreciate the heat.” He inclined his head toward a large, leafy potted plant, and then held the door as they exited onto the tree-lined mall. “If we hang a right here, in a few hundred yards you’ll be on College Avenue, where the yogurt shop is.” He stepped behind Linda to go around a young, dark-haired woman poised in front of an easel. A mauve strip ran along the top of her spiked black hair. “Hi, Fleur, nice job.”

  The young woman stood back, paintbrush in hand, and studied the colorful painting. “Thanks, Matt, I try.” She flashed a dazzling grin his way and dabbed a spot of green on the canvas.

  Although the painting was only partially finished, Linda was impressed by the amount of detail and vivid color already evident. Wondering if the young woman was an art student, Linda breathed deeply of freshly-cut grass as groups of students hurried past. “Busy for summer.” Her gaze followed the chattering young men and women crowding the sidewalk. They have their whole lives ahead. It seemed only yesterday she, too, had been a carefree college student instead of the mother of one.

  A worker on a riding lawn mower buzzed by with a flurry of sound, causing Matt to raise his voice. “The sidewalks are even more crowded in the winter.”

  Leaving the young artist biting the end of her paintbrush as she contemplated her work, they continued down the sidewalk. At the foot of the mall, they turned right. “The whole atmosphere is different. Here we are.” Matt embraced a tanned woman in black shorts and a hunter green tank top whose long, auburn hair was pulled back into a jaunty pony tail. “Hi, Sarge.”

  “Hello, Professor.” The woman returned his hug and favored him with a warm smile before turning her attention to Linda. “You must be Linda. Matt was telling me all about you.” She thrust out her right hand.

  Linda shook the outstretched hand. “We just met. I wouldn’t think he has much to tell you…I hope.” The athletic wife of the young professor came as a surprise. After Mitch yelled tell your wife she still owes me a kiss, Linda had expected someone closer to Matt’s age and someone more like the blond in the red dress. Although in excellent shape, this woman was closer to her age and, from the air of confidence she exuded, wasn’t someone to m
ess with. Thinking she might have met a kindred spirit, she grinned.

  “Well, for one thing, he told me you inherited Judd’s office. The last time I saw his place I figured the only way to make the room presentable would be a bulldozer.” She motioned for Linda to go ahead of her into the yogurt shop as Matt held the door.

  Approaching the counter, Linda studied the long list of flavors. “How do you decide? I’ve never seen so many flavors.”

  “We’re creatures of habit. My husband here, the almond orchard owner, always gets honey almond because…”

  “I’m just one big nut,” Matt finished. “And my wife always gets strawberry because…”

  “We don’t need to explain, dear.” She silenced him with a quick kiss.

  “You two must be newlyweds,” Linda commented, her voice dry. The affection of the couple drew her gaze despite her reluctance. Like gawking at a car accident. You couldn’t help yourself. She remembered the constant touching, the private jokes. But those things were reserved for newlyweds, for twenty or thirty year olds…

  “No, we’ve been married what—” Matt tilted his head and scrunched his brows together as he regarded his wife, “two, three years?”

  Colleen propped her hands on her hips and stared at Matt. “You mean—”

  “Here’s your strawberry, Colleen.” The older woman behind the counter winked at Matt.

  “Saved by the bell, Professor Berk.” Colleen sat at a table near the window.

  “Thanks, Betty. This is a newcomer to town, Linda Lafferty. Linda, Betty. Once she knows your favorite flavor, she never forgets.” Matt grabbed a couple napkins and joined his wife.

  After getting her cone, Linda followed Matt to Colleen’s table. “I decided on peach. Back home the fruit trees are loaded now.” She licked the smooth, rich cream and the tart sweetness transported her three thousand miles and thirty years, back to summer days driving to the beach, buying peaches from farm stands along the road. Her father would buy a bushel, so her mother could can the summer fruit in glass jars.

  “Where are you from?” Colleen leaned forward as she licked her cone.

  “New Jersey.”

  “How did you end up in Almendra, California?”

  “Long story.” Linda didn’t feel the need to share the details of her broken marriage with her new friends. Almendra was a new start, a clean slate. The less said the better.

  “I have a long story myself, Linda. We’ll have to compare notes some day.” Colleen grinned at Matt. “I happened upon Almendra by accident, and then this guy entered the picture, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  A twinge of envy stirred at the intimacy of the look passing between Matt and Colleen. Linda glanced at her watch, more to distract herself than to see the time. “I should get back. I have a lot to do before I leave for San Jose on Friday.”

  Matt leaned back in his chair and pulled on his wife’s ponytail as he licked his cone. “One last hurrah before you dive into the budget?”

  Linda chuckled. “Hardly. It’s a conference of finance directors.”

  “Sounds exciting,” Matt murmured and then grunted as Colleen elbowed him in the side. “What?”

  Linda laughed. “You’re right, Matt. These conferences are a blur of pie charts and numbers. Probably the most excitement I’ll have is deciding which channel to watch in the hotel room.”

  “You never know, Linda. You might meet a mysterious stranger.” Colleen smiled and shot a sidelong glance toward her husband.

  “Speaking of strange, how did you enjoy your lunch with Mitch?” Matt grinned across the table. “Sorry I ran out on you but—” he tilted his head toward his wife, “—we’d been trying to arrange a lunch date for weeks.”

  Linda leaned back in her chair and watched a group of students jostling each other as they entered the yogurt shop. The first picture popping into her mind was Mitch’s pleased grin as he chewed on her French fry. “Let’s say in my otherwise blue sky, he’s the only storm cloud.”

  “My one dinner with him was unforgettable so I can relate.” Colleen’s eyes narrowed yet one corner of her mouth curved up in a wry smile. “But they say there’s a silver lining in every cloud.”

  In the midst of catching a yogurt drip on the edge of her cone, Linda paused with her tongue on the cone before she realized how ridiculous she must look. She finished cleaning up the dripping cone before she blurted out the question uppermost in her mind. “You and Mitch dated?” She had already concluded Mitch preferred much younger women and probably didn’t have a serious bone in his body. She studied Colleen’s tanned face, sparkling green eyes and had already gotten a glimpse of her long, well-toned legs. Any man would be tempted by the dynamic woman—no matter her age. But Mitch and Colleen? She remembered Mitch telling Matt Colleen owed him a kiss.

  Matt and Colleen eyed each other and burst out laughing. “We-ell,” Matt drew out the word, “A slightly different version of Mitch dated Colleen.”

  “How many versions are there?”

  Colleen finished her cone and dabbed at her lips with a paper napkin. “Matthew is eleven years younger than I am.” She smiled when Linda’s mouth dropped open. “When I found out the age difference, I refused to go out with him.” She studied her husband as she continued. “He took it upon himself to convince me our ages are irrelevant. Love is what counts.” Her lips formed a gentle smile as she fixed her gaze on her husband’s face.

  If Colleen denied her love for Matt before, she certainly wasn’t afraid to show her feelings now. A tiny jab of jealousy pricked Linda’s heart. “But where does Mitch come in?”

  “Mitch dressed up like an old man and took me on a date. He made me wait on him hand and foot, the wretch.”

  “That’s when you know who your friends are,” Matt asserted, shaking his head. “Believe me, he didn’t want to deceive Colleen but he knew I was miserable. I could think of no other way to convince Colleen we were meant for each other.”

  Colleen smiled at Linda and threw up her hands. “And here we are!”

  “You do seem very compatible. Sounds like a bit of a miracle you found each other.” Linda popped the final piece of cone in her mouth.

  “Like I said—” Matt wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders, “—we were meant for each other.”

  Despite the large cone, Linda felt a little empty inside as she observed the newlyweds. Looking down at her lap, she noted the time and started. “My goodness, I should get back.” She eyed the couple sitting across from her. “Thank you for the yogurt…and the company.”

  “Anytime.”

  Linda picked up her handbag, tossed it over her shoulder, and skirted a giggling bunch of students as she pushed through the door onto the sidewalk. So, Mitch Collins was a nice guy? Maybe for his buddies…

  Only Wednesday afternoon but the downtown was busy. She left the throngs behind when she entered the shaded expanse of the campus mall. By the time she got to her building, sweat trickled down the middle of her back. The overheated lobby was even worse than outside, and she hurried across the empty lobby toward the elevators, her low heels clacking on the tile.

  She pushed the button for the fifth floor. As the elevator ascended, she thought about the funny professor and his reaction when she had called him Leroy. Colleen said there was a silver lining in every rain cloud. What would be the silver lining for Mitch Collins? Exiting into the administration area, she realized she could think of nothing. Better to acknowledge he was one big storm cloud and have an umbrella handy.

  Chapter Three

  Mitch was relieved his Thursday was free of classes. Before tackling his freshman essays, he headed downtown. Pushing open the door to The Flower Basket, he heard a bell jingle overhead.

  A trio of surprised feminine voices greeted him. “Professor Collins, what brings you here?”

  Mitch smiled at the competent and clever Grace Paxton sitting on a stool behind the counter. He briefly debated turning and leaving. The more people who knew
about this mission, the more chance word might get out and—hey—he had a reputation to uphold. He turned to leave and came face to face with Donica Laurent holding a spray bottle in one hand and a crumpled-up newspaper in the other.

  “I’m cleaning the glass.” Her brunette ponytail tickled his nose as she swung around him to spray the front of the now-open door.

  Mitch sighed and let go of the door handle, his escape route blocked. A hand at his back stopped his backwards momentum.

  Steffie Verrell stood near the flower coolers, a long-stemmed red rose in her hand. A twinkle in her dark eyes, she waved the flower under Mitch’s nose. “Is this what you need, Professor Collins?”

  Mitch walked up to the counter and settled on a stool across from Grace. All three women had attended Almond Valley College, the enrollment small enough students and teachers from different disciplines were acquainted with each other. “I thought I’d see how your business was faring.”

  The curious expressions disappeared from their eyes and the three women converged on the counter and started talking at once.

  Mitch held up a hand. “Wait a minute, ladies. You lost me at hello.” He grinned at the resultant giggles.

  “I handle the books.” Grace waved a pen in the air.

  “I do purchasing,” Donica held up the spray bottle, “and windows.”

  “And I do everything else…” Steffie threw up her hands when both Grace and Donica sputtered in protest. “Just kidding. I do promotion.”

  Mitch leaned an elbow on the counter and surveyed the shop. “Looks like you have the business under control.”

  “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Placing her pen next to her pad, Grace folded her hands together and gave him a measured stare.

  Mitch’s gaze landed on an airy fern hanging from a hook near the coolers. He pictured the plant in Judd’s—rather Linda’s—office, the sunlight filtering through the delicate foliage, shining on Linda’s dark hair. The pearl earring would shimmer in the sun’s rays and—

  “Dr. Collins?” Grace’s voice broke into his reverie. “Are you interested in the fern for…a friend?”