Paisley's Pattern by LoRee Peery

the lawyer. Then I received notice of his death. Meeting you made all the rawness of that episode vanish. Now it’s like that part of my life happened to someone else.”
    “Is that why you handed back my diamond ring? You didn’t want to go through the heartache of another failed marriage?”
    “It’s probably one of the reasons.” Paisley let her gaze wander until she settled on the curve of a rainbow sun catcher in the kitchen window. “You struck my heart strings the moment we met. At first, I couldn’t resist your magnetism any more than the mythical sailors could resist the call of the Lorelei. But, as we’ve talked before, you have a darkness inside that’s not as handsome as your outside. Suppose I fear I’m too happy to be dragged down by your somber moods.”
    “I’ve wanted you from the first time we met.”
    “I never doubted you wanted me, Rob. In fact I know you used restraint, and that’s why we often met outdoors around people.” She gulped the last of her tea, made a face over the sweet hit of honey that hadn’t dissolved, and took her mug inside to the sink.
    He followed her and set down the paper. “Did you find out what to do with the knife collection?”
    “I checked her instructions and Aunt Rainbow had already contacted a pawn shop owner downtown. He advised to take pictures and advertise online. Oren put a bank co-worker in charge of the whole thing. I haven’t seen the guy around, so maybe Oren has snapped pictures of the knives already.”
    “Sounds like a plan. Guess I’ll see you later. I’m on my way to get some real coffee. Edna Mae’s is on the weak side.”
    Unfamiliar, twittering birds accompanied Paisley on the jaunt to her tagging job.
    Inside the house, she drew in the scent of lemon that replaced the dusty odor as she returned to the bookcases. Now that she’d met Edna Mae, she supposed many of the romance novels on the shelf had originated with Mark’s neighbor. The bookshelves on the left side of the wall revealed more masculine tastes. Familiar western authors, a leather-bound collection of the old West heroes, and volumes on Native American Indians.
    Such a shame Rob hadn’t known the man.
    Her time with Rob, especially the ride home in the approaching dark, and their exchange that morning, kept interfering with her work. Thoughts were playing a game in her head. She wanted to tell Rob she still loved him. She prayed for his serious outlook on life to lift. In the meantime, she wouldn’t allow him to pull her down emotionally. Thank you, dear Jesus, for Andria and the clean room I’ve worked in all morning.
    Time crawled and flew in turn. She’d worn a skirt just for her lunch with Rob. It was finally time. Paisley gulped a glass of water, wiped her mouth, and painted on red lipstick for confidence. She made sure the Waverly place was still locked.
    Rob rounded the corner of the house from the backyard instead of from Edna Mae’s home. The man still tripped her heartstrings.
    “Hey. Don’t shut the door, please. I need to wash my hands.”
    He filled the kitchen with the shed smell—mixed with the masculinity of sweat. It struck her that if God had ordained it, Rob may have grown up coming in from that shed on a regular basis.
    If such were the case, she’d have never met him.
    As he drove, she took in the bustling activity along the street. “Looks like you’re getting to know your way around.”
    “Thanks to Oren’s good directions. Here we go.” Rob turned the car into a strip mall and parked.
    The restaurant was located in the back of a Mexican market. Lively mariachi music gave a bounce to their steps.
    Many people wore a red, black, or white Huskers shirts. A sprinkling of men wore Huskers caps, kept atop heads during their meals.
    “People in Nebraska do seem to love their college football team,” Rob commented.
    “I believe that’s an understatement.”
    Large water glasses and menus were already on the table. Paisley knew what she