I waited until his footsteps echoed at the top of the stairs, and then I reached for my phone. I had to cancel with Alex. I might’ve spent many years estranged from the Evans family, but it would be disrespectful to go out dancing when we’d just heard of Brice’s death. And if there was one thing I knew, small towns like Burton had long memories. News of me partying would’ve gotten around to Maureen . . . and to Flynn. I might not want to see him, but I didn’t want to rub that fact in his face. Once upon a time, we’d meant too much to each other. Once upon a time, Flynn Evans had been my whole world.
For a minute, I sat, staring down at the phone, remembering. I didn’t let myself dwell, not often. Hardly ever, in fact. That stroll down memory lane was still too painful. But now his face was front and center in my mind, the way he’d looked that day twelve years ago when he’d first noticed me.
I’d been stupid crazy for Flynn Evans since the moment I’d seen him on the first day of high school. He was tall, with light brown hair that he wore a little long. But it was his eyes that had captured me right away: they were the most vivid blue, framed with long eyelashes I envied.
While he wasn’t exactly skinny, neither was he bulked up, like some of the football players I’d seen around the school. When he leaned against a wall, bracing himself with one arm while he talked with a friend, the muscles in that arm sprang into definition, and my mouth watered. Yum.
I hadn’t been able to help staring at him a little. I tried to be cool about it, sneaking a peek here and there, but it was hard to pull my gaze away. He didn’t look my way, though, and that didn’t surprise me. I’d spent most of my school years flying under the radar, never part of the popular crowd. I wasn’t picked on or bullied; no one seemed to really notice me, unless it was as Sam’s little sister.
“What’re you looking at, Ali Baba?” Alex slid next to me as I lingered at my locker, quietly drooling over Flynn. Bumping his shoulder against mine, Alex followed the direction of my stare, took in the blush on my face and smirked. “Or should I say . . . who?”
“Nobody. Nothing. What?” I busied myself with my books. “I’m just thinking. About . . . chemistry. The class.”
“Suuuure you are.” Alex laughed. “Hmmm. Hey, I know that guy. He goes to my church. We’ve been in CCD together since we were little. His name’s Flynn Evans.”
“Really?” I tried to act as though I couldn’t care less. “That’s nice.”
“Yeah, want me to introduce you? I can call him over.” Alex opened his mouth, and I grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Are you out of your mind? Stop it.” I hissed the words, my eyes wide.
He laughed. “Oh, girlfriend, how’re you going to get the guy if you don’t want him to notice you?”
I slumped back against my locker. “It’ll happen magically. One day he’ll look up and see me, and he’ll realize that I’m everything he’s ever wanted in a girlfriend.”
“Uh huh. Well, when you get tired of waiting for fate to take a hand, let me know, and I’ll make the introductions.” He patted my head in the patronizing way I hated. “Gotta run for Spanish. Hasta la vista, baby.”
For three weeks, Alex teased, taunted and threatened. Every time we were together when Flynn passed by, Alex looked at me, eyebrows raised significantly. I wanted to murder him. At the same time, I was almost to the point of giving into him, because as far as Flynn Evans was concerned, I was totally invisible girl.
And then it happened.
I’d joined the newspaper at the beginning of the school year because I loved to write, and my parents were pushing extracurricular activities. It seemed like a good fit. I hadn’t known Flynn was on staff, too, as a photographer, until our first staff meeting. Not that he’d seen me there; I’d cowered in the back and found the perfect angle to ogle him while still appearing to be looking up front at our advisor as he spoke.
Mr. Wilder had worked on a big paper in Richmond, Virginia, and he had definite ideas about how to run things, even at the high school level. He assigned all of us newbies to upper classmen who’d show us the ropes, take us along on stories they covered and teach us how to put together a tight article. He called it the Bee Helpful program, since the school paper was named the Burton Bee.
I was assigned to Rachel Thomas, a pretty junior with dark eyes and silky black hair. She was business-like but patient; I didn’t have any delusions that we’d be best friends, but I figured I could count on her to answer any questions.
About a month into school, she came by my locker before school began.
“Hey, we’ve got an assignment for today. Wilder wants us to cover the dedication of the new town sign out on Highway 18. I’ll drive. Are you cool to be a little late getting home?”
I nodded, making a mental note to find Sam and tell him I wouldn’t be riding home with him, unless he wanted to wait. And since it was harvest time out on our farm, hanging around after school ended wasn’t an option. I’d have to see if my mom could run back into town to get me later.
As if reading my mind, Rachel added, “I can just drive you home after, if that makes it easier. That way, you don’t have to scramble for a ride.”
I smiled in gratitude. “That’d be great if you don’t mind.”
She nodded and turned to leave. “Meet me out front right after school. Bring your notebook.”
At the end of the day, I hurried to my locker, traded out books and sprinted out to where Rachel lolled against one of the columns. One side of her mouth lifted when she spotted me.
“Slow down, don’t kill yourself. We have to wait for the photographer.” She rolled her eyes, and I frowned.
“Can’t Kyle drive himself?” Like everyone else in the school, I knew Kyle Durham. He was a big shot, smart and athletic, and a gifted photographer to boot.
Rachel bared her teeth in a grim smile. “Didn’t you hear? Kyle has mono.”
“Oh.” My mind reeled; I’d heard my parents teasing about mono being the kissing disease, but I knew it was fairly serious. “That sucks.”
Rachel lifted one eyebrow. “Know what sucks worse? Lana Tyler has mono, too.”
“Lana?” All the underclassman females in this small high school watched the intricacies of the romances between juniors and seniors as though it were a soap opera. “Isn’t she dating Matt Gibbs?”
“Kyle’s best friend? Uh, yeah.” Rachel grinned. “You see the awkward? Anyway, the freshman photographer’s covering today with us. Flynn’s a good kid. His sister’s a friend of mine. And their dad teaches history here.”
I tried for an interested but unaffected expression, as though all of this was new information to me. The last thing I needed was a reputation as a pathetic lovesick girl, which could happen if Rachel caught me mooning after Flynn.
“Oh, here he is. Hey, Flynn.” Rachel straightened, smiling. “We gotta cover the dedication of the new town sign. Try not to pass out from excitement.” She pointed at me. “Do you know Ali? Alison Reynolds, Flynn Evans. She’s going to write the story. I’m just the wheels for this one.”
My stomach felt as though it was going to flip right out of my body, and I was dizzy. Flynn turned those piercing blue eyes on me, and a spark zinged down my body, the same way it did when I inadvertently touched the live wire in the barn my dad always warned me not to get near. There was an echoing of the same shock and recognition in Flynn’s eyes, and that warmed me to the core. It gave me the courage to smile at him.
“Yeah, Flynn and I have a couple of classes together.” I was amazed at how calm my voice sounded.
He nodded, but he didn’t speak. If Rachel noticed, she didn’t give any indication as she gestured with us to follow her. I paused when we got her car, not sure where I should sit. But Flynn opened the passenger side door and climbed into the backseat.
I got in the car and half-turned in the seat. “You could’ve ridden shotgun. I don’t mind the back.”
Flynn lifted one shoulder. “Nah, I’m fine. Thanks.”
/> He didn’t speak again, not a word as Rachel pulled out of the lot, drove through town and out onto the highway. The two of us girls kept up a steady chatter, but I couldn’t help sneaking a glance at him whenever I faced sideways.
The dedication was nothing more than a few old guys standing on the side of the road. I took notes on what was said during their speeches, while Rachel muttered her sarcastic take on the whole thing. Flynn stood near us, moving every now and then to get a better angle. The old 35 mm camera he used made loud clicks as he shot.
We piled back into the car when it was over, and just outside town, Rachel glanced at me. “So you’ve got this, right? I mean, it’s pretty simple. And I don’t want to dump it on you, but I’ve got three papers due next week, and I’m working on Mr. Gilbert’s retirement interview for the paper.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll write it up and turn it in, unless you want to look the article over first.”
Rachel shook her head. “No, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Her lips curved, and she raised her voice just a little. “This is one of those stories where the pictures and the article have to jive. So you might want to see what Flynn comes up with before you turn it in.”
I flushed, wondering what Rachel had seen in my face. But whether she meant to or not, she’d given me the opening I needed. I took a deep breath and turned around to face the backseat as her car bumped into the school parking lot.
“Do you want to work on the article together? You know, make sure it goes with the pictures you took?” My voice sounded smooth and didn’t falter even once.
Flynn looked startled, but he nodded. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I gotta develop them first, so maybe, uh, like Friday afternoon?”
“That works.” I managed to hold it together while Rachel offered Flynn a ride home and he turned her down. He stood back as we left the school again, and I kept my eyes off him with only the greatest restraint.
“So. How long have you been lusting after our boy Flynn?”
Shocked, I looked at Rachel with my mouth open. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on. I was a freshman once. And I fell hard for a senior. I know the signs.”
I flopped back against the seat. “Oh, my God. Does everyone see it?”
Rachel laughed. “I doubt it. But you’re braver than me. It took me months to speak to my crush.”
I ventured a glance at her. “How did it work out for you?”
“We’re still together. He’s at UGA, so I only get to see him about twice a month, which sucks, but we’re making the distance thing work.” She winked at me. “You should totally go for it, with Flynn. You two have chemistry. I think you could go the distance.”
Thinking of her words now, as I stared at my phone, a deep sadness welled inside me. Everyone thought that Flynn and I would be together forever. But when it came down to hard choices, we’d both let each other down.
Which brought me back to Alex and canceling our plans for tonight. I texted my friend, fingers flying over the keys as I lapsed back into our old shorthand.
Did you hear?
His reply was swift. Yeah, was just about to call you. I can’t believe it.
Me neither. Obviously tonight is off.
Of course. I’m sorry, Ali.
Yeah. I paused, not sure of what to say next. He’s back, you know. In town.
Alex, who’d kept my secret so loyally, didn’t need to ask who I meant.
Are you going to see him?
Not if I can help it.
I could practically hear the sigh that accompanied his next words.
Ali, think about it. Maybe it’s time.
I gritted my teeth. Alex and Meghan were both singing the same song, even if I didn’t want to listen.
Don’t say anything. Please, Alex.
There was a long break before his next reply.
You know I won’t. But you should.
“HONEY, IT’S TIME TO go.”
I jerked my eyes open. For a moment, I was confused; the living room hadn’t really changed in the past ten years, other than the new sofa, upon which I was sprawled. But for a split second, I was lost, unsure about where I was. When it all flooded back over me, the pain was crushing.
I was back in Burton. I’d been here for five days, because my father was dead.
My mother stood in front of me in her dark green dress and shiny black heels, deep shadows under her eyes. One thin white hand clutched her small purse as she spoke.
“Flynn, the girls are ready. We need to leave.”
I pushed myself up to sit straight, rubbing one hand over my face. “Sorry. I guess I dozed off.”
Mom reached out to brush my hair away from my eyes, a gesture so familiar that my heart clenched. “None of us have been sleeping very well. It’s bound to catch up with us sooner or later.”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and stood. “Okay. Let’s go.” And get it over with, I wanted to add, but of course I didn’t. It might’ve been true, but it wasn’t what a son should be thinking before his father’s funeral.
The reality was, I couldn’t wait for this day to be done, yet at the same time, I dreaded it being over. I was tired of forcing the smiles, the small talk and the polite responses to expressions of sympathy. After today, I could hide. Or run away. Yeah, running away sounded good.
On the other hand, once today’s service was behind us, it meant my family—or what was left of it—would have to figure out how to get on with the rest of our lives.
Maureen stood in front of the mirror in the front hall, her chin down on her chest as she struggled to force her curly black hair into an elastic band.
“Jesus Christ, why does my hair have to be such a freaking mess?” She muttered the words almost under her breath, but my mother never missed a trick.
“Maureen Ann, I won’t have you talking the name of the Lord in vain, especially not on the day of your father’s funeral.”
Iona, standing by the door, rolled her eyes. “Because that’s the part of the commandment Moses forgot to include on the stone tablet. ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, particularly if you’re on the way to your father’s funeral’.”
Maureen cut her eyes to our oldest sister and unsuccessfully bit back a bark of laughter that ended in a half-sob. “Je-geez Louise, we’re making jokes about this. What’s wrong with us?”
“That’s a question I’ve been asking for many a year.” Mom shook her head.
“Nothing’s wrong with us.” Iona softened her words by reaching out to take our mother’s hand in hers. “If Daddy were here, he’d be worst of all. Remember Granny Bea’s memorial service? How much he made us kids giggle? You were so mad at him that day.”
Mom brought her fingers to her mouth, pressing them to her lips, and tears filled her eyes. “I was. Oh, God forgive me, I was. If I could go back . . .”
“Mom, come on.” Maureen pulled her into a tight hug. “Don’t. Daddy knew how much you loved him. And you’ve got to hold it together, woman. If you lose it today, Iona and Flynn and I have no chance.”
“Okay.” My mother sucked in a long, shaky breath. “We need to leave. Everyone’ll be coming, and we should be there.” She patted Reenie’s back and squeezed Iona’s hand, and I fought against feeling like an outsider. As if she felt my pain, Mom glanced at me. “Flynn, you all right?”
“Sure.” I stuck my hands in my pockets and jingled the keys. “I’ll drive.”
“Think you can remember how to get to the church?” Maureen poked me in the ribs.
“Does it matter? You’re going to tell me how to go anyway.”
“You’re not wrong.” My sister slid her arm through mine. “I know you’ve been gone a long time, but some things never change. Big sister always knows best.”
We were all quiet on the ride to church. My mind was a jumble of everything that had happened over the past few days: visits to the funeral home, meeting with the priest who was doing the service today . . . the endless drop
-in company as my mother’s friends and my father’s colleagues brought by casseroles, and plates of cookies, cakes and pies. Apparently death made the surviving family hungry.
Iona must’ve been thinking along the same lines. From the back seat, she leaned forward. “Did anyone remember to ditch Mrs. Shulman’s tuna nastiness? I’d hate for it to be accidentally put out today with the other food.”
Maureen wrinkled her nose and made a gagging noise. “Yeah, that sucker went down the glippety-glop last night. And it was followed by a whole box of baking soda, because it stunk up the whole dam—dang kitchen. Sorry, Ma.”
My mother sighed. “She means well. They all mean well. Mrs. Schulman thinks all Catholics eat fish every Friday, so that’s why she made the tuna. Bless her heart.”
Iona snorted. “If the Pope had to eat that crap, he’d change the church laws, even about Fridays in Lent. Slow down, Flynn. The turn’s coming up.”
I bit back a retort. Yeah, I’d been away for a long time, but I’d been going to this church since I was born. I was pretty sure I knew the way.
“People are already here.” My mother stared out the window at the cars that lined the curb in front of the large gray stone church.
“Father Collins promised to keep them outside until we . . . had some time to get settled.” Maureen’s eyes slid away, and we were all silent as I parked the car in the back of the church. I opened the door for my mother, and together we made our way inside. I brought up the rear, as dread threatened to choke me.
The sanctuary was empty, save for the open casket in front of the altar. My mother came to an abrupt halt just inside the doors, her hand still poised over the holy water chrism.
“Mrs. Evans.” Mr. Hughes, the funeral director, hurried in from the door on the other side. “There’s quite a line outside the church, which is of course so gratifying . . . Mr. Evans must’ve been very well-loved.”
“He was.” Iona spoke softly. “Everyone loved Daddy.”
“We said a closed casket.” Mom moved again, crossing herself and stepping forward. “We were very clear. That’s what Brice wanted. He always said he didn’t want people gawking at him when he wasn’t there to stare back.”
Love in a Small Town Box Set 1 Page 27
