Larkspur Dreams - By Anita Higman Page 0,32

rolled over and groaned again. What had Everett called her? His lady friend. It sounded so old-fashioned, she wasn’t sure what it meant. So was she his friend or his lady? Big distinction.

She opened one eye since the other one was plastered on the pillow. Even her ultra-soft, Egyptian cotton sheets couldn’t smooth out her mood. And then it hit her. She could paint, play her guitar, eat ice cream, talk to God, and call Calli—a few things that could get her out of her slump. But maybe God wouldn’t appreciate the order she’d put them in. Maybe I’ll try the last three first.

Lark crawled out of bed as she sent up her usual praise, confession, and requisition to heaven. Then she wrapped herself up in her chenille robe and dragged herself into the kitchen for some serious comfort food—mocha ice cream with dark chocolate chunks and caramel swirls. It had been suitably named, Mocha Madness, and it would always be her favorite. She grabbed the portable phone, pressed Calli’s number in, and slumped down on the floor with a ladle and a fresh pint of Mocha Madness.

“Calli Jefferson speaking.”

“Hi, Calli. Do you have a minute? It’s me.” It’s so nice to be able to just say, “It’s me.” Now that’s a comfortable friendship.

“What’s up? You sound kind of. . .I don’t know. . .different. How did it go with your neighbor, the mothballs, and the party?”

“Long story. Got a few weeks?”

“Well, my commode just overflowed, my housekeeper just quit, and I’ve got two closings in half an hour, so can you lay it on me in five minutes?”

“I’ll take it.” Lark proceeded to quickly unload all her story to Calli. The party. The kiss. The now infamous slap. Everett’s heroism. The whole enchilada. When she finished her tale of woe she stuffed a shovel of ice cream into her mouth while Calli absorbed the shock.

“Oh my,” Calli finally said. “Oh my, my, my, my.”

“Got any other advice?” Lark asked, talking with her mouth full and tapping the ladle against the carton.

“I don’t know,” Calli said. “I’ll have to pray about this one.”

“What if Everett had to move away?” Lark suddenly realized how telling those words were.

“I think something else is going on here.”

Silence.

“So that’s it,” Calli said. “You’re falling in love with him. Well, all I can say is you must have really loosened up this guy or he’s got you under some sort of spell.”

“I think a little of both.” Lark took another bite. Buttery caramel and mocha flavors sort of caressed her mouth. Oh yeah. Lark belched and then hiccupped.

“What in the world? Larkspur Wendell, are you under the influence of Mocha Madness?” Calli said. “Put that ladle down. You know if you eat ice cream all day, the dairy is going to make your neck glands swell up like a chipmunk. I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

“Okay. I won’t eat another bite.” Lark set the carton down on the end table.

Calli sighed. “You know, Jeremy might take this pretty hard. I know you guys have just been going out as friends, but I think he might feel more than that.”

Yikes. Jeremy. I owe him supper. “Oh, Calli. I have a date with Jeremy tonight. Sort of. Another long story. What am I going to do?”

“Lord,” Calli prayed, “I lift up my sister, Lark. Bathe her in wisdom and let peace and victory be hers in the name of Jesus. Amen.”

“Amen, sister.” Lark smiled.

“Call me later,” Calli said. “I love you, sister-gal.”

“Love you, too. And thanks.”

The moment Lark hung up, she heard a rapping on her front door like a woodpecker. She tightened her heavy robe and then took a look at herself in the entry mirror. Wow. Major damage. She gazed through the peephole. Her neighbor, Skelly, stood on her porch looking upset. Picasso? It’s impossible. He couldn’t have gotten out again.

Lark opened the door. “Skelly? Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think so.” He was dressed in an old, wrinkled shirt, and he wasn’t wearing a coat or a smile.

“What is it?” Lark reached out to touch his sleeve.

“Well, today is my wedding anniversary. First one since Rose died. And I don’t know whether to grieve or celebrate. Do you have any Earl Grey?” Mist filled his eyes.

Lark hugged Skelly. “Come on in. I have a huge supply of Earl Grey. And my kitchen is always open.”

Skelly walked in, looking a little older than he had the week before. He didn’t stand as straight, and