Nancy Robards Thompson

Falling For Fortune


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that. He had that big black Ford with those little personalized souvenir license plates in the back window. What about it?”

      “Come with me.” Gram motioned for Amber to follow her out to the mudroom, where the porch light illuminated the back steps. Still, she reached into the cupboard and withdrew a flashlight before taking Amber outside.

      When they reached the Dodge Charger, Gram walked around to the back and flashed the light on the rear window, where someone had painted Elmer on the driver’s side and Helen on the passenger side with a cursive flair.

      “He had it done while we were at the movie theater,” Gram said. “Rod Rogers, from the paint and body shop, came over as a favor to him, and did it while we were inside. Isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever did see?”

       Oh, for Pete’s sake.

      Okay, maybe it was a little romantic, but did Amber really want her sweet and prim grandmother hot-rodding around town in that green death machine with her name emblazoned across the back?

      “So what does this mean? Are you and—” Amber pointed to his painted name “—are an official item?”

      “Oh, I don’t know what to call it. We’re too old to worry about labels and nonsense like that. All I know is that Elmer makes me feel special, and I like spending time with him.”

      “But now everyone in town will know that you guys are together. These new graphics make quite the statement, Gram.”

      The older woman reached over and patted her hand. “Dear, I know it’s not as subtle as, oh, say, a front-page picture spread on an international tabloid.”

      “Point taken,” Amber said, shoulders slumping. “But he’s just so different from Pop.”

      “What’s wrong with different?”

      Everything, right?

      Before Amber could begin to list the reasons people searched for soul mates, her cell phone rang. She was half tempted to ignore it, but decided to check the display first.

      Jensen?

      “Just a minute, Gram. I need to take this.” She swept her finger across the screen, accepting the call. “Hey. What’s up?”

      “Not much. I just wondered if you’d like to go out on a date.”

      She smiled, and her heart lightened. “A real one?”

      “Yes, and then we can go to dinner afterward. But it might be wiser if you met me.”

      “Of course. I understand. Where?”

      “At the Golden Horseshoe Theater.”

      Was this a joke?

      “Seriously?” she asked.

      “I heard it was unique and a lot of fun.”

      And Amber had given Gram a hard time about Elmer Murdock taking her to that ol’ place with the two-bit movies.

      “What’s the matter?” Jensen asked.

      “Nothing. I was just wondering why you’d suggest we meet there.”

      “Elmer told me it’s quite the rage. And while I was in town earlier today, I noticed a flyer advertising a movie I’d like to see.”

      Amber didn’t know what to say. The Golden Horseshoe had to be “quite the rage” at the VFW or the Moose Lodge or the senior center because none of her friends had mentioned it.

      “Are you busy tomorrow night?” Jensen asked.

      “No.”

      “Then would you like to join me?”

      It wasn’t that. She was trying to figure out if he was stringing her along. Or just what the heck was behind all of this sneaky, I’ll-meet-you business.

      Was his real reason for meeting her at obscure places to avoid the paparazzi?

      Or was he just hoping no one would see them out and about and realize they were together?

      She had half a notion to decline the invitation. And if she hadn’t had such a strong urge to see him again, she would have done just that. Instead, she said, “Okay, I’ll meet you there.” But her heart really wasn’t in it.

      Like Gram, didn’t Amber deserve to be romanced, too?

       Chapter Eight

      While Jensen and Amber waited in the concession line at the refurbished Golden Horseshoe Theater, he stood like a young boy in a candy shop, studying the reprints of old movie posters that lined the walls.

      Could there be anything more perfect for a clandestine date, which wasn’t supposed to be a date, than a darkened cinema on a Wednesday evening?

      And to top it off, The Big Country was playing tonight.

      Sadly, at least for the proprietor, there weren’t too many people taking advantage of the low price and 1950s ambiance, but there was still a bit of a wait at the concession stand.

      Now, with his hand resting on the small of Amber’s back, his arm itching to circle around her, he didn’t care how long the lady in front of them took to place her order.

      When it was finally their turn, a young man in his late teens wearing a pair of black slacks, a white shirt and a red bow tie asked, “What can I get you?”

      Jensen asked Amber, “What’s your preference?”

      “Something to drink—and maybe some munchies, like popcorn, I suppose.”

      “Very well then. We’ll have a large buttered popcorn, a Kit Kat, a package of red licorice, those funny American sour candies shaped like naughty children and two large colas.”

      “Seriously?” she asked. “How long is this movie?”

      “If I remember correctly, it’s two hours and forty-five minutes, but it’s one of the few long classics without a proper intermission, so I thought we should stock up.”

      The clerk tallied the order, and as Jensen paid the bill, it took only a moment to realize Mr. Murdock had received one hell of a senior discount. No wonder the proprietorship was able to get by charging such an inexpensive admission fee. They more than made up their loss on ticket sales here at the concession stand. Not that Jensen was complaining by any means. It was merely his habit as a financier to crunch the numbers and decide whether an establishment would succeed or not. Clearly, this place would do well on popcorn alone!

      He reached for their refreshments and tried to balance one of the packs of candy and the popcorn container in his left hand, while grabbing his drink with the other.

      Amber, proving herself to be quite practical, as usual, took the candy out of his hand and tossed it, along with the other packages, into her handbag before picking up her own cola and following him into the theater.

      “Look, they have balcony seating,” he said, not the least bit embarrassed about his excitement over the novelty.

      “It seems kind of far away from the screen.” Amber raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think many people choose to sit in the nosebleed section these days.”

      “Come now. It’s not that high. Besides, it’ll be much more private up there.”

      When they settled into the velveteen upholstered seats, he took in all the details of the old-time cinema setting, feeling as though he’d traveled back in time to 1958, when the movie was first released.

      The Gregory Peck and Jean Simmons film had been quite popular in Britain back in its day, and Jensen had seen it before on DVD and cable. But with the cinematography so up close and personal, the way the producers had originally intended, the experience couldn’t