Time to Laugh Romance Collection Read online

  Tabby was practically dragged across the lawn and over to the picnic table, where a dark-haired, distinguished-looking young man sat. A pair of stylish metal-framed glasses were perched on his aristocratic nose, and he was wearing a suit, of all things!

  “Mike, honey, this is the birthday girl—my big sister, Tabitha.” Lois leaned over and dropped a kiss on the end of his nose.

  He smiled up at her then turned to face Tabby. “Hi. Happy birthday.”

  “Th–th–thanks,” she murmured.

  Michael gave her an odd look, but Lois grabbed his hand and pulled him off toward the porch swing before he could say anything more.

  Donna, who had been pouring lemonade into the paper cups, moved toward Tabby. “Looks like your sister brought you over here just so she could grab the old swing.”

  Tabby watched her beautiful, self-assured sister swagger across the lawn, laughing and clinging to Michael like she didn’t have a care in the world. She shrugged. “Lois can have the silly swing. She can have that rich boyfriend of hers, too.”

  “Oh, oh. Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

  Tabby knew Donna was right, and she was about to say so, but her parents and grandmother had just come through the gate, and she figured it would be rude to ignore them.

  “So glad you two could make it.” Donna’s father shook hands with Tabby’s parents then turned to her grandmother and planted a noisy kiss on her slightly wrinkled cheek. “You’re sure lookin’ chipper, Dottie.”

  “Carl Hartley, you still know how to pour on the charm, don’t you?” Grandma Haskins raked a wrinkled hand through her short, silver-gray hair and grinned at him.

  Up to this point, no one had even spoken to Tabby. She stood off to one side, head down, eyes focused on her beige sneakers.

  Grandma Haskins was the first to notice her. “And here’s our guest of honor. Happy twenty-fifth, Tabitha.”

  Tabby feigned a smile. “Th–thanks, Grandma.”

  “Yes, happy birthday,” Mom added, placing a gift on one end of the table.

  Tabby glanced up at her mother. She knew she looked a lot like Mom. They had the same mousy brown hair, dark brown eyes, and were both short of stature. That was where the similarities ended, though. Mom was much more socially secure than Tabby. She was soft spoken, but unlike Tabby, her words didn’t come out in a mumble-jumble of stammering and stuttering.

  Tabby’s gaze went to her father then. He was still visiting with Donna’s dad and never even looked her way. Lois got her good looks from him, that was for sure. His blond hair, though beginning to recede, and those vivid blue eyes were enough to turn any woman’s head. No wonder Mom fell for Dad.

  Donna’s mother, Irene, the ever-gracious hostess, instructed the guests to be seated at the picnic table, while she scurried about to serve them all beverages.

  Even though Tabby was the only one in her family who professed Christianity, they all sat quietly through Carl’s prayer. When he asked God to bless Tabby and give her many good years to serve Him, she heard Lois snicker.

  Tabby had a compelling urge to dash back home to her apartment—where she’d be free of Lois’s scrutiny and her dad’s indifference. She knew it would be rude, and besides, the aroma of barbecued meat and the sight of several eye-catching salads made her feel as if she were starving. The promise of cake, ice cream, and gifts made her appreciate the special party Donna had planned, too. It was more than her own family would have done. With the exception of Grandma, she doubted whether any of them even cared that today was her birthday.

  “Please don’t sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and make me blow out the dumb candles,” Tabby whispered when Donna set a huge cake in front of her a short time later. It was a beautiful cake—a work of art, really—German chocolate, Tabby’s favorite, and it was covered with thick cream-cheese frosting. Delicate pink roses bordered the edges, and right in the middle sat a giant-sized heart with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TABBY.

  “Don’t spoil everyone’s fun,” Donna said softly.

  Tabby bit back a caustic comeback, forcing herself to sit patiently through the strains of “Happy Birthday.”

  “Okay, it’s time to open the presents.” Donna moved the cake aside then placed the gifts directly in front of Tabby. The first one was from Lois. Inside a gold-foil-wrapped gift box was a pale green silk blouse and a makeup kit. It was filled with lipstick, blush, eyeliner, mascara, and a bottle of expensive perfume.

  At Tabby’s questioning look, Lois said, “I thought it might spark you up a bit. You always wear such drab colors and no makeup at all.”

  Tabby could have argued, since she did wear a touch of lipstick now and then. “Th–thanks, L–Lois,” she mumbled instead.

  Grandma Haskins reached over with her small gift bag. “Open mine next, dear.”

  Tabby read the card first then drew a small journal from the sack.

  “I thought you might enjoy writing down some of your personal thoughts,” Grandma explained. “I’ve kept a diary for many years, and I find it to be quite therapeutic.”

  Tabby and her maternal grandmother exchanged a look of understanding. Despite the fact that Grandma, who’d been widowed for the last ten years, wasn’t a Christian, she was a good woman. Tabby felt that Grandma loved her, in spite of all her insecurities.

  “Thank you, Grandma. I th–think it’ll be f–fun.”

  “This one’s from your folks,” Donna said, pushing the other two gifts aside.

  There was no card, just a small tag tied to the handle of the bag. It read: “To Tabitha, From Mom and Dad.”

  Tabby swallowed past the lump lodged in her throat. They couldn’t even write “love.” That’s because they don’t feel any love for me. They only wanted me until Lois came along; then I became nothing but a nuisance.

  “Well, don’t just sit there like a dunce. Open it!” her father bellowed.

  Tabby ground her teeth together and jerked open the bag. Why did Dad always have to make her feel like such an idiot? As she withdrew a set of white bath towels, edged with black ribbon trim, her heart sank. Towels were always practical, but white? What in the world had Mom been thinking? She was sure it had been her mother’s choice because Dad rarely shopped for anything.

  “Th–thanks. Th–these will go g–good in our b–b–bathroom,” she stuttered.

  “I was hoping you’d put them in your hope chest,” Mom remarked.

  Tabby shook her head. “I d–don’t have a h–hope chest.”

  “It’s high time you started one, then,” Dad roared. “Lois is only nineteen, and she’s planning to be married soon.”

  As if on cue, Lois smiled sweetly and held up her left hand.

  “Your engagement ring is beautiful,” Donna’s mother exclaimed. “Congratulations to both of you.”

  Michael beamed and leaned over to kiss his bride-to-be.

  Tabby blushed, as though she’d been kissed herself. Not that she knew what it felt like to be kissed. The only men’s lips to have ever touched her face had been her dad’s, when she was young, and Carl Hartley’s, whenever he greeted her and Donna.

  Donna cleared her throat. “Ahem! This is from Mom, Dad, and me.” She handed Tabby a large white envelope.

  Tabby’s forehead wrinkled. Donna always went all out for her birthday. A card? Was that all she was giving her this year?

  “Go ahead, open it,” Donna coached. She was smiling like a cat who had just cornered a robin. Carl and Irene were looking at her expectantly, too.

  Tabby shrugged and tore open the envelope. She removed the lovely religious card that was signed, “With love, Donna, Irene, and Carl.” A small slip of paper fell out of the card and landed on the table, just missing the piece of cake Grandma Haskins had placed in front of Tabby. Tabby picked it up, and her mouth dropped open. “A gift certificate for a ventriloquist dummy?”

  “Ventriloquist dummy?” Lois repeated. “What in the world would you need a dummy for?”

  Before Tabby could respo
nd, Donna blurted out, “Tabby’s recently learned how to talk for two. She’s quite good at it, I might add.”

  If ever there had been a time when Tabby wanted to find a hole to crawl into, it was now. She swallowed hard and said in a high-pitched squeak which sounded much like her puppet, “I–I’m just l–l–learning.”

  By the time Tabby and Donna returned to their apartment, Tabby’s shock over the surprise gift certificate had worn off. It had been replaced with irritation. She knew Donna’s heart was in the right place, and Tabby didn’t want to make an issue out of it, but what in the world was she going to do?

  Tabby placed her birthday gifts on the kitchen table and went out to the living room. Donna was busy closing the miniblinds, and she smiled when she turned and saw Tabby. “I hope you enjoyed your party.”

  Tabby forced a smile in response. “It was nice, and I really do appreciate the expensive gift you and your folks gave me.”

  Donna nodded. “I sense there’s a ‘but’ in there someplace.”

  Tabby flopped into the rocking chair and began to pump back and forth, hoping the momentum might help her conjure up the courage to say what was on her mind. “It was an expensive birthday present,” she said again.

  Donna took a seat on the couch, just opposite her. “You’re worth every penny of it.”

  Tabby shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but—”

  “There’s that ‘but.’ ” Donna laughed. “Okay, let me have it. What don’t you like about the idea of getting a professional ventriloquist dummy?”

  Tabby stopped rocking and leaned forward. “I—uh—”

  “Come on, Tabby, just spit it out. Are you mad because my folks and I gave you that certificate?”

  “Not mad, exactly. I guess it really would be kind of fun to own a dummy, even if I’m only going to use it at the day care.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought,” Donna said with a satisfied smile.

  “The gift certificate says it’s redeemable at Beyers’ Ventriloquist Studio.”

  “That’s the only place in Tacoma where ventriloquist dummies are bought, sold, and repaired.”

  “I know, but Seth Beyers owns the business, and he—”

  “Oh, I get it! You have a thing for this guy, and the thought of being alone with him makes you nervous.”

  Tabby bolted out of the rocking chair, nearly knocking it over. “I do not have a thing for him! I just can’t go in there and talk to him alone, that’s all. You know how hard it is for me to speak to anyone but you or the kids. Wasn’t that obvious tonight at the party?” She began to pace the length of the living room. “I couldn’t even get through a complete sentence without stuttering and making a complete fool of myself. No wonder my family thinks I’m an idiot.”

  Donna moved quickly to Tabby’s side and offered her a hug. “You’re a big girl now, Tabby. I can’t go everywhere with you or always be there to hold your shaking hand.”

  Donna’s words stung like fire, but Tabby knew they were spoken in love. “What do you suggest I do—call Seth Beyers and see if I can place an order over the phone?”

  Donna shook her head. “Of course not. You need to take a look at what he’s got in stock. If there isn’t anything suitable, he has a catalog you can look through.”

  “But I’ll stutter and stammer all over the place.”

  Donna stepped directly in front of Tabby. “I suppose you could always take little Roscoe along for added courage,” she said with a teasing grin.

  Tabby’s face brightened. “Say, that’s a great idea! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself!”

  Chapter 6

  Tabby knew there was no point in procrastinating. If she didn’t go to Beyers’ Ventriloquist Studio right away, she’d have to endure the agony of Donna’s persistent nagging. Since today was Friday, and she had an hour off for lunch, it might as well be now.

  Tabby slipped Roscoe into the pocket of her raincoat, said good-bye to Donna, and rushed out the door. She stepped carefully to avoid several large puddles then made a mad dash for her car, because, as usual, it was raining.

  “Why couldn’t it have done this last night?” she moaned. “Maybe then my birthday party would have been canceled.” She slid into the driver’s seat, closed the door with a bang, and pulled Roscoe out of her pocket. “Okay, little buddy, it’s just you and me. I’m counting on you to get me through this, so please don’t let me down.”

  Seth had been up late the night before, putting the finishing touches on a grandpa dummy someone in Colorado had ordered from his catalog. He’d had trouble getting the moving glass eyes to shift to the right without sticking. Determined to see it through to completion, Seth had gone to bed shortly after midnight. Now he was feeling the effects of lost sleep and wondered if he shouldn’t just close up shop for the rest of the day. He didn’t have any scheduled customers that afternoon, and since it was raining so hard, it wasn’t likely there would be any walk-ins, either.

  Seth was heading over to put the CLOSED sign in the window, when the door flew open, nearly knocking him off his feet. Looking like a drenched puppy, Tabby Johnson stood there, holding her purse in one hand and a small, scruffy dog puppet in the other.

  “Come in,” he said, stepping quickly aside. “Here, let me take your coat.”

  “My—my c–coat is f–fine. It’s w–w–waterproof.”

  Seth smiled, hoping to make her feel more at ease, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on the trembling young woman. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said softly.

  “You—h–have?”

  “Well, maybe not today, but I knew you’d be coming in sometime soon.”

  Tabby slipped the dog puppet onto her hand and held him in front of her face. “How did you know Tabby would be coming here?” she made the puppet say.

  Seth had no idea what she was up to, but he decided to play along. “Tabby’s friend was in the other day,” he answered, looking right at the puppet. “She bought a gift certificate for a dummy and said it was for Tabby’s birthday.”

  Tabby’s hand slipped slightly, and Roscoe’s head dropped below her chin.

  Now Seth could see her face clearly, and he had to force himself to keep talking to the puppet and not her. “Say, what’s your name, little fellow?”

  “Woof! Woof! I’m Roscoe Dog!”

  She’s actually doing ventriloquism, Seth noted. Doing a pretty good job at it too. Should I compliment her? Maybe give her a few encouraging words about her newfound talent? No, I’d better play along for a while and see if I can gain her confidence.

  Seth moved over to the counter where he usually did business with customers. He stepped behind it and retrieved one of his catalogs from the shelf underneath. “Are you planning to help Tabby pick out a dummy?” he asked, again directing his question to the puppet.

  Roscoe’s head bounced up and down. “Sure am. Have ya got anything on hand?”

  “You don’t want to look at the catalog?” This time Seth looked right at Tabby.

  She squirmed under his scrutiny, but in a well-spoken ventriloquist voice she made the puppet say, “I’d rather see what you’ve got first.”

  Seth frowned. Tabby seemed unable to carry on a conversation without either stuttering or using the puppet, and she still hadn’t looked him in the eye when he spoke directly to her. What was this little woman’s problem, anyhow?

  Tabby tapped the toe of her sneaker against the concrete floor as she waited for Seth’s response to her request.

  “Okay, I’ll go in the back room and see what I can find,” he finally mumbled. When Seth disappeared, she took a seat in one of the folding chairs near the front door. She didn’t know what had possessed her to use Roscoe Puppet to speak to Seth Beyers. He probably thought she was out of her mind or acting like a little kid. If she’d tried to talk to him on her own, though, she’d have ended up stuttering like a woodpecker tapping on a tree. Tabby knew it was stupid, but using the puppet helped her relax, and she w
as able to speak clearly with no stammering at all. Guess this little experience will be something to write about in my new journal, she thought with a wry smile.

  The telephone rang sharply, causing Tabby to jump. She glanced around anxiously, wondering whether Seth would hear it ringing and return to answer it. For a fleeting moment she thought of answering it herself but quickly dismissed the idea, knowing she’d only stutter and wouldn’t have the foggiest idea of what to say.

  She was rescued from her dilemma when Seth reappeared, carrying a large trunk, which he set on one end of the counter. “Be right with you,” he said, reaching for the phone.

  Tabby waited impatiently as he finished his business. She was dying to know what was inside that huge chest.

  Five minutes later, Seth finally hung up. “Sorry about the interruption. That was a special order, and I had to be sure of all the details.”

  Tabby moved back to the counter, waiting expectantly as Seth opened the trunk lid. “I didn’t know if you wanted a girl, boy, or animal figure, so I brought a few of each,” he explained. Tabby’s eyes widened as Seth pulled out several dummies and puppets, placing them on the counter for her inspection.

  “They all have open-close mouths and eyes that move from side to side. Would you like to try one?”

  Roscoe was dropped to the counter as Tabby picked up a small girl dummy dressed in blue overalls and a pink shirt. The figure’s moving glass eyes were blue, and her brown hair was braided. Tabby held the figure awkwardly with one hand, unsure of what to say or do with it. The telltale sign of embarrassment crept up the back of her neck, flooding her entire face with familiar heat. “H–how do you w–work it?”

  “Here, let me show you.” Seth moved quickly around the counter until he was standing right beside Tabby. She could feel his warm breath against her neck, and she shivered when his hand brushed lightly against her arm. She wondered if she might be coming down with a cold.

  Seth pulled the slit on the dummy’s overalls apart, so Tabby could see inside the hollow, hard plastic body. “See here … that’s where the wooden control stick is hidden. You turn the rod to the right or left for the figure’s head to move.” He demonstrated, while Tabby held the dummy.