by Sarah Hegger
Compliments made her want to squirm, so she nodded and motioned inside. “The usual suspects?
“Yup.” Reverend Michael grimaced. “Although I hate to tell you that I still haven’t talked Graham out of the white spandex cycling shorts.”
Blythe made the same face and laughed. Eighty-seven-year-old Graham in his pale spandex with nothing underneath could give a girl nightmares for months. “I’ll make sure he stays in the back.”
“And away from the mirrors?”
“You got it.” Blythe shouldered her tote and strode into the large central hall. When she had first started this class, she’d had only Gloria who worked in the church office and her sister-in-law.
Popping gum like a teen, Dixie waved her over. “You’re late.”
“No, I’m not. You’re early.”
Dressed in hot pink and neon yellow shorts that barely covered her ass and an exercise bra that defied the laws of physics and managed to keep her bounty concealed, Dixie was the best part of Blythe’s brother Ben. Somehow, and God alone knew how, Ben had managed to land and marry that woman. As kind as she was stacked, Dixie had got Ben into a steady job and away from the rest of the family.
“How’s the new place?” Dixie had always been a fan of Blythe getting out and taking Will and Kim with her.
Blythe made herself smile. Dixie didn’t know anything about Eric. “It’s good. Great.”
“I’m proud of you, bitch.” Dixie pulled her into a super-sweet-perfume scented hug. “And don’t you worry about Carly. Ben and I will pop in and see her regular.”
“Thank you.” They’d all gotten lucky when Dixie had agreed to keep Ben around. “How’s she doing?”
Waggling her head, Dixie pulled a face. “You know your mama. Some days are good, and some not so good.”
Guilt clawed at Blythe. With her not being there, nobody would make sure Carly ate or showered.
“Oh, no.” Dixie shook her head and set her chandelier earrings dangling so hard they threatened a black eye. “Don’t give me that face. I know what you’re thinking.” She jabbed a sparkly black nail at Blythe. “You’re not the mama here; Carly is.”
“But—”
“Nope.” Dixie crossed her arms. Her breasts heaved at the edge of her sports bra. “There is no but here. You got out and made a life for yourself, and when she’s sober, that makes Carly real happy.” She squeezed Blythe’s arms. “Real happy and don’t you forget it.”
“We’re ready for ya.” Dixie’s best friend, Ramona, shimmied into the room. She stopped and gave Blythe the onceover. “Damn, you’re a hot bitch.” Ramona stepped back and eyed her. “If I’d had your body, I’d be raking in the dough.”
“Doing what exactly?” Gloria strolled over wearing her lemon-yellow tracksuit.
Ramona pumped her hips. “Working that pole, Glor. Working that pole.”
“How are you, dear?” Gloria took Blythe’s music from her and plugged it into the sound system.
“I’m good.” Other than the huge lump she woke up with in her throat every morning. The same lump that lodged in her chest and refused to go away. Maybe she could talk to Dixie about Eric. No. Love her as she did, Dixie had loose lips, and she wouldn’t understand Blythe’s reasons for leaving. Dixie would assume Eric took care of her and didn’t ask much in return other than the occasional hook up. And as the sex was off the charts good when he did come around, Eric was pretty much the perfect man in Dixie’s book.
Blythe stripped off her sweatshirt.
Whistling, Ramona moved to the front of the class. “Work it, baby.”
The class had grown to more than thirty. Men, women, boys and girls, all were welcome. Mostly she tried to have fun with them and do a bit of good for their health as she went.
The doors slammed open and Jo Evans ran in. Dark and tall like her brothers, she shared the Evans beautiful bone structure, only on her it was delicate. She clomped across the floor in her large boots. “Sorry I’m late.”
And right back to Eric again, because they’d recently had a conversation about Jo. Eric worried about his sister. She worked too hard, wouldn’t take any help and was fiercely independent. Blythe knew so much about Eric’s family, and they had no idea of the role she’d played in his life all these years.
Blythe waved her to take a place. “No problem, we hadn’t started yet.”
According to Eric, Jo wouldn’t take help from any of her brothers with her tuition or her living expenses. She refused to live with their mother, but that meant working two, sometimes three, jobs to keep her head above water. It drove Eric mad, and he’d sworn Blythe to secrecy, but he managed to bolster Jo’s salary every now and again.
Jo had inherited the Evans stubbornness along with that bone structure, and she’d throw a fit if she caught wind of what Eric was up to.
One of the problems with having a secret lover was that he was secret. Nobody knew about Eric, so there was nobody to share her heartbreak with. Not that she had anybody anyway. Girls didn’t like her. They never had, and she was through trying to impress them.
“Right.” She clapped her hands for attention. “Let’s get it started in here.”
For the next hour there was no more time to talk as Blythe kept her class moving. She loved teaching classes like this, watching how others enjoyed them. The best part of teaching today’s class was the pounding music and her ability to lose herself in it. For sixty awesome minutes it was her, the music, her class and an accelerating heartbeat.
And Graham’s spandex situation, but she tried not to concentrate on that. Dear God, she tried not to concentrate on that.
After class, Dixie hung around. They both watched Graham walk away.
“Old man balls.” Dixie shuddered. “How did those things end up near his knees?”
Blythe preferred not to speculate as she waved the rest of her class goodbye.
“Next week?” Gloria mopped her red, shiny face with a pale-lemon towel, which perfectly matched her sweat suit. She never took for granted Blythe would be there.
Blythe gave her a nod. “For sure. Good work today. You looked great.”
“You’re full of it.” Gloria snorted and waved a hand at her.
“So.” Dixie perched on a fold-up chair as Blythe packed up her music. “You finally did it. You moved out with Will and Kim.”
“I finally did it.” Blythe slipped into her sweatshirt. “Bo and Becker found me soon enough.”
“Assholes.” Dixie snorted. “They can’t stand it when someone gets something better than what they have.”
Blythe perched beside her and took a drink from her water bottle. “They told me about Brett.”
“Speaking of assholes.” Dixie rolled her eyes. “Your mama sure bred a tribe of dickheads.”
True enough. “She had some help with that.”
Dixie snorted again. “Anybody heard where your dad is?”
“Not that I know of.” Blythe got to her feet. She had to get going. She’d left Will in charge of Kim, and he needed to get to work. “He’ll wash up eventually when he needs money or a place to stay.”
“Let’s hope Carly can keep him out of her bed this time.” Dixie stood with her and wriggled into a minuscule hoodie. “She can’t be having any more babies. Somebody’s got to tape her legs shut.”
Kim needed to be the last. The message from the doctor had been adamant. Dutifully, Blythe had passed it on, but with the sinking feeling that it would only be heeded for as long as Pat stayed away. “You know what she’s like when he comes around.”
“What are you going to do about Brett?” Dixie fell into step beside her.
Blythe shrugged and clamped down on the upswell of nerves. “I’m not really sure what I can do. Other than move to the far side of the moon.”
“I hear the climate’s good.” Dixie shoulder bumped
her. “I’ll send Ben to have a talk with Brett, make sure he understands he’s not to go near you.”
If Dixie said it, Ben would do it. But Ben didn’t stand a chance against Brett. “Don’t do that. You know what Brett can be like. I don’t want Ben getting hurt.”
“Ben can take care of himself.” Dixie shook her head. “How old were you when you last saw Brett?”
“In my twenties.”
“And he broke your arm?” Dixie peered at her. “What the hell!”
Blythe stopped herself from reflexively rubbing her arm. Her arm and getting medical attention for it was one of those things she owed Myra. “I got up and in his face about him trying to use Will as a decoy while they jacked cars.”
“Fucker!”
Blythe quite agreed, but a dangerous fucker as well, and they’d all do well to remember as much.
“Blythe.” Reverend Michael strode down the corridor toward her. “You got a minute?”
“Ask me, Rev.” Dixie stuck her hip out and batted her lashes. “I got all the time in the world for you.”
“Dixie, you flirt.” Michael grinned down at her. “You’re just toying with me. You’re happily married.”
“Speaking of.” Dixie kissed Blythe on the cheek. “I need to get home and kick his lazy ass.”
“Why do I suspect that’s exactly what she’ll do?” Michael watched Dixie sashay away with a fond smile.
“Because she will.” Blythe shared his grin. “Ben got so lucky when he got her. Fortunately, lazy as he is, he’s smart enough to know a good thing when he sees one.”
“Which gives me the neat segue I need.” Michael’s face grew more serious. “I don’t want to make something out of nothing, but Will’s been seen hanging around with the Flemming boys over on sixteenth.”
Blythe bit back her f-bomb. Those Flemming boys were bad news. The drugs kind of bad news. Will had gone to school with them, and Blythe had always done her best to discourage their friendship. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Look, could be nothing.” Michael spread his large hands wide. “It’s entirely possible the whole thing is innocent, but I thought you might want to know.”
“And I do.” Blythe pressed his forearm. “Thanks for letting me know.”
The door opened behind them and they both turned.
Jo Evans grinned at them. All the Evans kids had that smile. One side of their mouth tilted up more than the other and invited you to laugh with them. “Hey, Michael.” She strode past. “Great class as always, Blythe.”
Reverend Michael watched her go before he turned back to Blythe. “And you’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
It was easy to get lost in those beautiful sincere big blues of Reverend Michael’s, and it amazed Blythe he was still single. However he did spend every hour he could between the center and the church, and it would take a special woman to put up with that. Also, the priest aspect probably kept the advances to a minimum.
“We’ll be fine,” she said.
He gave her his no bullshit look. “I’m sure, but you don’t have to be, and we’re here if you aren’t.”
Blythe parted from him at the building entrance. The long summer twilight wound down in a soft flush of peach across the sky. Only a few cars remained in the parking lot and she looked about her as she walked.
“Good night.” Jo waved from where she sat perched on a fire hydrant.
Blythe stopped. The recreation center was not in the best part of town. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Jo waved her off. “My brother is coming to pick me up.”
A sleek black car glided into the parking lot.
Blythe’s heart stopped. There weren’t too many Jaguars in Ghost Falls, and she knew who that one belonged to. Her heart pounded in her ears.
She couldn’t see him. It was too soon. Like ten years too soon.
“Blythe,” Eric called, as she ducked behind the dumpster and ran down the side of the recreation center. His voice lashed out again. “Blythe.”
She slid into a narrow alley and pressed her back against the wall. How old was she exactly? Running and hiding like that. Still, she wasn’t going out there until he was gone. Sometimes self-preservation looked a lot like childish, but it was still self-preservation.
* * * *
Eric was halfway out his car to chase Blythe when Jo bounced up to him.
“Hey.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
Still watching the direction Blythe had bolted, Eric said, “No problem.”
“Did Blythe just run away from you?” Jo stared in the same direction as him.
Eric hauled on his blank face. “Why would she do that?”
“No reason.” Jo shrugged and opened the car door. “Something has her in a huge hurry.”
What the actual fuck was that about? Now they weren’t even going to speak to each other? She’d taken one look at him and run for cover. That shit was going to end.
He turned his attention back to his sister. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“Not much.” Her face set in that stubborn expression that meant her car was toast, but she would walk over coals before she told him.
Eric had reached his quota for stubborn women for one month. “Just tell me what’s wrong with your damn car, Jo.”
Chapter Seven
Blythe parked in one of the two spots allotted to her apartment. The slot beside hers still held Will’s car. He was waiting for her to come home before he went on his Uber run. That car had cost a lot more than Will could afford, and she knew who she owed.
This weekend, she was taking care of that. These three Barrowses refused to owe anyone anything.
Stepping out her car, the early fall chill made her shiver. Ghost Falls had a short fall season and galloped straight into winter. Up at Eric’s place, the snow-white world looked magical in winter. This year, she wouldn’t see it.
“Blythe.” Tall and broad, Brett loomed out of the dark.
Heart pounding, she leaped away, and her back connected with her car. Her spine slid along the metal as she tried to put distance between them. “Stay back.”
“Take it easy.” He held out his hands so she could see him. Shadows hid most of his face.
Still, he stood between her and safety. “Step back or I’ll scream.”
She couldn’t see his eyes for the darkening evening, but she and Brett stayed like that, frozen for long, tense minutes.
Then Brett stepped back. One large stride, and then two, and then three.
Finally she had enough of a gap and bolted for it.
“You can’t hide from me forever, Blythe.” Brett’s voice followed her. “We need to have this out.”
Blythe let herself into her apartment and locked the door behind her to the sound of Finding Nemo. She stood pressed against the door, her heart still hammering. Part of her expected Brett to come banging at the door any moment.
She pulled up Nate’s contact card. She didn’t want to waste his time, so she went to the kitchen window. The street outside her apartment was empty.
“Blythe?” Kim called from the other room. “Is that you?”
“It’s me.” She kept her voice upbeat. Nothing and nobody stirred in the night outside their apartment. Allowing herself a full breath, she went to greet Kim.
“Hey, sweet girl.” She leaned down and kissed Kim’s soft, pink cheek and drew in the bubblegum scent of little girl. “Did you have dinner?”
Kim didn’t take her eyes off the screen. “Will made me fish sticks and peas.”
“Did you eat all the peas?” Will did his best, but he didn’t know how to cook.
“Y…es.” Kim peered up at her. “I ate some of them.”
Blythe let it go at that. Kim was already dr
essed for bed, so Will must have handled bath time as well. He was the best kid. Not many nineteen-year-olds would have been as mature. She really hoped Reverend Michael had seen nothing important.
“Hi.” Will walked out of his bedroom, hair slicked back from the shower and dressed in pressed chinos and a white button down. “You’re back.”
“Thanks for feeding Kim and bath time.”
“No worries.” Will gave her his sweet smile and slipped past her.
“Will?” Blythe caught his arm. She almost told him about Brett and then changed her mind. Brett’s beef had always been with her. He’d more or less ignored Will. But her conversation with Michael, she couldn’t ignore. Ignoring warning signs only led to more trouble. “Listen, I heard that you’ve been hanging out with those Flemming boys.”
Irritation flashed across Will’s face. “It was nothing, Blythe.” For a moment he looked every inch a sulky teen, and then his expression cleared into one of affection. “Look, Blythe, I know all about the Flemmings. I’m not about to do something stupid.”
“Good.” She wanted to wrap him up and keep him from anything that could hurt him. She hated that she was already too late to prevent his past hurts. “Because I worry about you.”
“I know you do.” He kissed her cheek. “And I love you for it, but I know this is our chance Blythe. As much as you want me to take it, believe me, I want it as badly.”
Blythe hugged him tight. Sometimes he felt more like her son than her little brother and she adored him.
Will hugged her back.
He was losing his boyish lankiness and would one day be as big as Barron. Maybe even as big as Brett. But Will would be nothing like his two older brothers. “We can be different, Will.”
“We will be,” he said and stepped back. “I made extra dinner for you. It’s in the microwave. I’ll be back later.”
“Drive safely,” Blythe called to the closing door.
She got a quick wave in reply. A piece of paper lay on the kitchen counter, and she picked it up. Addressed to Will, it came from a scholarship fund he’d talked about.
