by Cindi Myers
Tanya’s gaze shifted to Jack. “It was nice talking to you,” she said, something she might have said to any stranger. He wasn’t going to let her get away with keeping him at a distance that way. They might not be lovers anymore, but their history qualified them as more than mere acquaintances. He took her hand, then surprised her—and himself—by pulling her into a quick embrace. “It was good talking to you, too,” he said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again next Saturday.”
When he released her, he was gratified to see that her cheeks were pink, and she seemed to have a hard time finding words. “Um, I guess we’ll see you.” She hustled Annie toward the door, but paused to look back at him once more. He winked, which heightened her color further. He felt a rush of elation knowing he could still unsettle her. She fumbled with the doorknob and had to try three times before she succeeded in opening the door and fleeing to the parking lot.
“She was a pretty girl, but she’s become a beautiful woman.”
His dad’s words echoed Jack’s earlier thoughts. He made no comment. He didn’t want his father to mistake agreement for interest. This older version of the girl he’d once loved aroused all kinds of conflicting emotions in him: interest and anger, nostalgia and hope, lust and loathing. He had no idea at this point where any of that would lead, or even where he wanted it to lead.
“That little girl of hers is a real cutie, too,” Andy continued. He clapped his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “With all the new people coming in, it was nice to have an old friend return to the fold. She spent so much time at our place when you two were growing up that I always thought of her as one of the family. It’s good to have her back.”
Jack would never think of Tanya as a stranger, but in some ways, seeing her now after all these years was like meeting her for the first time again. He welcomed the chance to discover more about her, even as every instinct warned him to proceed with caution. She was, after all, an accomplished actress. He’d need all his wits about him to decipher which was her true self, and which was merely a role she was playing.
Chapter Five
The crowd that milled around the pavilion in Ted Scheske Park in Mount Crested Butte the following Saturday was much larger than Tanya remembered—so large she wondered at first if she’d come to the right place. But a large banner strung between two trees identified this as the 25th Annual Crenshaw Construction Fourth of July Picnic, and then Jack stepped forward to greet her.
“I wasn’t sure you’d really make it,” he said.
“Would you have been disappointed if I hadn’t?”
He grunted and looked away, his gaze coming to rest on Annie, to whom he offered a smile. “I’m glad you could be here,” he said.
Was Tanya included in that sentiment? Even after their cordial meeting at Jack’s office, things between them still felt stranded somewhere between old friends and casual acquaintances. “Annie hardly slept last night, she was so excited,” she said, determined not to let him shut her out of the conversation.
Annie bounced up and down on her toes. “I like picnics,” she said.
“There are a lot of other kids here for you to play with,” Jack said. “And lots of activities and good food.”
“I brought some potato salad.” Tanya held out the plastic-wrapped covered bowl. “Obviously not enough for this crowd, but I wanted to contribute.”
“I should have told you—it’s not potluck anymore,” he said. “Everything’s catered.” He took the bowl from her. “But, hey, this looks great. I’ll make sure to try some.” He sounded sincere. Should she take the words as a verbal peace offering?
Or maybe she should stop trying to overanalyze everything he said.
The source of food for the celebration was not the only thing that had changed since the last town picnic Tanya had attended. Jack led her and Annie past a gigantic barbecue pit on wheels. Other carts dispensed popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs, lemonade or beer. Children bounced in an inflatable castle, while others took turns riding a patient pony.
“Mama, can I go over there?” Annie asked.
“Over where?”
“Over there.” Annie pointed toward a grassy area where two clowns were making balloon animals and passing them out to the gathered children.
“I want a balloon animal,” Annie said.
“Everyone here is like family,” Jack said. “They’ll keep an eye on her.”
“All right,” Tanya said. “But you come find me when you’re ready to eat.”
Before she’d even finished speaking, the girl raced away.
Jack and Tanya moved on. White-shirted catering crews were setting up folding tables in the shade and readying for the big meal. At one end of the pavilion, a three-piece band played lively country music.
“I remember when everyone brought a dish and your dad and his friends took turns turning a pig on a spit,” Tanya said. “And the entertainment was provided by a couple of workers who played guitar.”
“The company’s grown since those days,” Jack said. “We can afford to throw a bigger party.”
“Mr. Crenshaw, where do want the face painter to set up her booth?” A man whose badge identified him as Catering Manager approached.
Jack looked around. “Under that shade tree behind the band should work,” he said. He handed Tanya’s bowl of potato salad to the man. “And could you make sure this gets a special place at the table?”
“Sure thing.” The man hurried away to do Jack’s bidding.
At least, that was how Tanya thought of it. As they moved through the crowd, people around them greeted Jack with obvious deference. “Great party, Jack.”
“Thank you for the party, Jack.”
“I never dreamed there’d be so many people here,” she said as they made their way to two empty folding chairs on the edge of the gathering.
“We have fifty employees now, plus all their families,” Jack said. “We’re responsible for over half the new construction in the area, plus we have a division for remodels and additions.”
She didn’t know whether to be impressed or dismayed.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”
“I just…I’m not sure if you wanted me here this afternoon because you wanted to show off, or because you wanted my company.”
His expression darkened. “Does the answer really matter to you?”
“Yes. Yes, it does.” She looked into his eyes again and was surprised to find his expression troubled. “You’ve changed, and I’m not sure how I feel about those changes.”
“You’ve changed, too,” he said.
“How?”
“You used to be more trusting. Now you’re always examining people for ulterior motives—judging them to see if they measure up to the way you think they ought to be.”
“That’s not true,” she protested.
“Oh, no?” He loomed over her. “Then why do you insist on wanting me to be the boy I was instead of the man I am?”
She watched him walk away, hating that he was angry at her, but unwilling to take back her words. Maybe she had hoped he was more like the Jack she’d known—the sweet, uncomplicated young man who represented the safety and familiarity she’d longed for upon her return to Crested Butte.
And, yes, it was probably unreasonable of her to think he hadn’t changed. Of course they had all changed. If she was more cautious now—more judgmental, as he’d called her—it was only because tough breaks had taught her to be so. People who took Hollywood and its denizens at face value didn’t last very long.
JACK WATCHED TANYA from a distance and fumed. She and Annie were having their faces painted, enjoying themselves. Annie was so clearly her mother’s daughter, with the same golden hair and slightly upturned nose. She even had the same way of laughing, which made Jack long for the days when the only thing that had mattered to him and Tanya was that they loved each other and wanted to be to
gether.
“It looks like Tanya and Annie are having a good time.” Andy came to stand beside his son.
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you so glum?”
“She thinks I’m only interested in impressing people.” In impressing her.
What was so wrong with that? While she’d been away making a name for herself, he wanted her to see that he hadn’t been sitting around letting the grass grow.
“She ought to be impressed,” Andy said. “You’ve done a lot of great things for this company. For this community.”
“She doesn’t see it that way.”
“Jack! I’ve been looking all over for you.” A smiling brunette with beautiful dark eyes hurried over to him.
“Hi, Ronnie,” Jack said. Veronica Hudson worked in the accounting department at Crenshaw Construction.
“This is a great party,” she said. “Are you gonna play ball later?”
“You bet,” he said.
“Then I want to be on your team,” she said, her eyes meeting his for the briefest moment, letting him know her interest went beyond baseball.
Ronnie was pretty and sweet, and he might have asked her out, except that with Tanya’s return he found himself comparing the two women—and Ronnie came up short. He couldn’t seem to stop himself, even though he knew it was a bad idea to try to live in the past.
“Who’s the woman?” Ronnie asked.
“What woman?” Jack felt the tips of his ears burn, but he tried not to let anything show on his face.
“The one you keep looking at,” Ronnie said. She was smiling, but her smile didn’t go all the way to her eyes. “The blonde with the cute little girl.”
“That’s Tanya Bledso,” Andy said. “She and Jack dated all through high school. She just moved back to town.”
“Oh.”
Jack was surprised to realize how much disappointment and regret one syllable could convey.
“Isn’t it about time to eat?” Andy asked when Ronnie had drifted away.
Jack checked the caterers, who were standing by their stations, ready to serve up the meal. “I guess so,” he said.
“Nobody’s going to eat until you welcome them all,” Andy reminded him. It was traditional for the president of Crenshaw Construction to make a little speech before the meal, thanking everyone for their hard work through the year.
Knowing Tanya’s eyes were on him, Jack stepped forward and cleared his throat. “I want to welcome you all to this year’s picnic,” he said. “And I want to thank each of you for all your hard work. Crenshaw Construction has built a reputation for quality work—your work. My family appreciates the skill and effort and heart you bring to every job.”
Cheers and applause greeted these words. “I hope you all enjoy yourselves today,” Jack continued. “If there’s anything you need, you know you can ask me or my dad. Now let’s eat.”
More cheers rang out and serving lines formed. Jack filled a plate and took a seat where he could watch Tanya. She sat at one of the long tables with some former high school classmates. Annie played with their children. After high school some of them had gone to college, while others started jobs. They’d married and had children and had marched on with their lives.
And here he was, stuck with a high school crush.
It hurt to admit it, but there was no sense lying to himself; the woman got under his skin.
He took a bite of potato salad—Tanya’s potato salad. It tasted great. The catered stuff was good enough, but this was obviously homemade, the potatoes peeled by hand and cut into uneven chunks. The bowl had emptied within minutes of it being set on the table. Jack had asked one of the caterers to wash it. Later, he’d have someone return it to her. He was still too upset to risk speaking to her and saying the wrong thing.
TANYA WAS AWARE of Jack watching her. To tell the truth, she couldn’t keep from looking his way every chance she got. “How long have you worked for Crenshaw Construction?” she asked Lee, who’d been class treasurer and now had something to do with sales.
“I’ve been with the company five years,” Lee said. “Jack and his dad are great to work for.”
“They’ve done so much for this community,” another woman said. “They’re always the first to chip in for any cause. Jack’s just like his dad in that respect.”
“He never has married,” said Lee’s wife, Eileen. She’d been a cheerleader in high school. She pointed her fork at Tanya. “I always figured he was waiting for you.”
“For me?” Tanya squeaked. Her face burned.
“Why else has he never married?” Eileen asked. “And he hardly ever dates.”
Tanya swallowed. “I’m sure that has nothing to do with me.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Eileen said.
“So why are you over here and he’s over there?” Lee asked.
Tanya looked down at her plate. “It’s a long story.”
“Uh-huh,” Eileen said. “The story hasn’t ended yet, judging by the way you keep cutting your eyes over there and he keeps looking over here.”
She didn’t want to look at him again, but of course she did; they all did. He sat at the next table over with a group of carpenters, laughing at something one of them had said. He certainly didn’t look like a man who was pining away for her, any more than she’d been pining for him.
Yes, Jack had been the chief focus of her thoughts since that night at the theater. The fact that he thought of her as some kind of stuck-up city girl who couldn’t be trusted didn’t lessen her longing for the way things had once been between them.
But was the funny feeling around her heart every time she looked at him really only nostalgia? Or was it something more?
After everyone had eaten their fill, someone called for the start of the softball game. Jack joined in, taking the pitcher’s mound for the first inning. Tanya watched on the sidelines. This was the Jack she knew—one of the gang. There was nothing boastful about him.
Chagrined, she realized she’d been confusing pride with arrogance. There was nothing wrong with being proud of your accomplishments, and Jack had certainly accomplished a lot.
Pride was only bad if a person let it get in the way of doing what was right, as she’d let hers keep her from admitting she’d jumped to the wrong conclusions about Jack.
After the game, as people began to gather their families and pack up their lawn chairs, she went to him. “I’m sorry about the things I said earlier,” she said. “I want us to be friends.”
His eyes, dark and velvet-soft, met hers. She could imagine herself falling into them—falling into him. “I could never think of you as my enemy,” he said, his voice gruff.
“But could you be my friend?”
He considered the question a moment. “I don’t know,” he said. “We were a lot more than friends at one time.”
“You said yourself we’re both different now. Can’t we start fresh?”
He hesitated for a split second before he took her hand, his clasp firm, his palm warm and rough against hers. “All right. Welcome to town, Tanya.”
“Thanks.” She was too nervous to smile, but she met his gaze with a warmth she hoped he’d feel. “It’s good to see you again, Jack.” It was a weak start, but a start. Right now she didn’t dare hope for more.
AS JULY ENDED and with opening night only two weeks away, rehearsals for the Red Lady’s Revenge took on a new intensity. Tanya operated on a combination of nerves and adrenaline as she worked to whip the cast and crew into shape for the play’s debut.
Fortunately Crested Butte’s Mountain Theatre troupe was blessed with several talented amateur actors. Angela Krisova, Tanya’s friend who had the title role, had real talent. “Angela, you’re going to take everyone’s breath away when they see you in this role,” Tanya said. “But see if you can give me a little more swagger in the opening monologue. I want the character’s brashness to pop, so that later, when we see her more vulnerable side, the contrast will really tear at
people’s hearts.”
“I’ll try.” Angela made a note on her script.
Tanya looked around the theater. “Where’s Austin?” she asked. “It’s time to run through his scene with Angela.”
“He’s not here,” Barbie said.
“Where is he?” Tanya asked. “Has anyone heard from him?”
The cast and crew members gathered around her all shook their heads.
“Then we’ll have to start without him,” Tanya said. “Let’s run through the scene where Steve confronts Roxanne in her saloon.”
They were partway through the scene where Oscar, who played the hero Steve, berated Angela’s character for putting her own interests ahead of those of the town, when the door to the auditorium opened, and Austin limped up the aisle on crutches.
“What happened to you?” Oscar asked.
Austin grimaced. “I fell mountain biking. Broke my leg in two places.” He turned to Tanya. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to be able to play the part.”
“Maybe you can play it on crutches,” Oscar said.
“The role requires someone who can climb to the second story of a building like a cat burglar,” Tanya said. She ignored the first twinges of an impending headache. “I guess the understudy will have to do it.”
“I’m his understudy,” a middle-aged man, Patrick, spoke up. “But I’m already playing the part of the preacher since Kyle had to drop out because of a conflict at work.”
In a small troupe, it wasn’t unusual for understudies to cover more than one role. It was rare for two actors to be unavailable on the same night.
Tanya looked around at the cluster of actors. Like children, they were all relying on her to make the right decision. “Who here knows the part?” she asked. “Or is at least familiar with the role?”
No one would meet her gaze.
“Maybe we should recruit someone new to play the role,” Angela suggested.
“Do you have anyone in mind?” Tanya asked. “Someone who can learn the lines in a week?” Someone who was semitalented would be nice, too. Someone with a knack for comedy, who didn’t mind playing the fool. The character of David was a handsome, over-the-top good guy—a sort of Dudley Do-Right character who was sure to leave audiences in stitches.
