by Jodi Thomas
But with Jillian, it was different. He knew she wouldn’t stay. Maybe all she wanted was shelter in a storm. He could be that. He could be enough for Jillian, and no matter how many weeks they had together, that would have to be enough for him. When you get a slice of happiness, you can’t expect the whole cake.
He closed his eyes and drifted off, thinking how lucky she had been to get to travel. He might never travel, but maybe she’d tell him about all the places and he’d see the world through her eyes.
15
In the recesses of his sleeping brain, Connor heard a door open and close, but he didn’t move. Sunnie was coming in late, he thought. He’d talk to her in the morning.
Footsteps across a tiled floor pulled him more awake, and he felt something warm against his side. Warm and breathing. Reality washed over him like a tsunami as the first slice of dawn crept across the sunroom. Before he could move, he heard Mrs. Kelly’s high voice. “If you’re going to sleep here, Mayor, I’ll have to charge you.”
Dread stabbed him in the gut like a boxer’s first blow. He opened one eye. Worse than the Grim Reaper, Mrs. Kelly stood smiling at him.
He could already hear her brain logging the order of who she’d call to tell all about what she’d found going on at her place. And in the sunroom, no less.
Shifting away from Jillian, he slowly stood, adjusting the pillows beneath her without waking her. “What time is it?” he asked, as he herded the little lady through the kitchen doorway.
Mrs. Kelly puffed up, looking quite proper in her mourner’s dress he’d seen at every funeral for the last ten years. “A little after seven, I think, but that’s not...”
Before she could continue with her interrogation, Connor said, “I’ve got to get back to the hospital.”
It worked. She forgot about him sleeping over.
“The hospital! What’s happened? I leave for a few days and something changes. That’s the way it always is. You’d think I lived in the country, fifty miles from town. I’m the last to hear anything.”
He made coffee as she continued to ask questions. When she finally slowed, he answered one. “Gram’s had an accident.”
“Oh, my.” She plopped down on a stool. “Is she all right? How did it happen? Does anyone know?”
Connor couldn’t hide his smile. Mrs. K wanted to be the first to know everything that transpired in town. He couldn’t make that occur, but he could fill in details that probably hadn’t made the rounds. “Half the town started looking when she went missing yesterday morning. She took a fall on the creek path trying to walk from the Acres to her shop.”
“The creek path must be a mile or more from the Acres. Oh, poor dear.”
“Joe Dunaway found her. Muddy and hurt. She spent the night under observation at the hospital. Lucky for her, only one bone in her leg was broken. She’ll be coming home with me for a few days once they release her. I think it’ll calm her nerves to be with Sunnie and me, and you know how she hates people making a fuss over her. The staff at the Acres said they’d do their best to watch over her, but I don’t want her to be alone and hurting, not even for a minute.”
Mrs. K nodded. “She won’t like being babied, so you go easy on the bossing, mister. I remember we all tried to give her a birthday party a few years back, and she threatened to print all our ages in your paper. Those people at the Acres are good, but I can just see them pestering Eugenia right into an early grave.”
Connor remembered the party plans. “It wasn’t a threat. She said she’d pay me to print all the dates and names in bold type.”
“We all feared that. But this time, if she’s hurt and can’t get around, she’s going to need some help.” Mrs. K popped off her stool and tied on an apron. “I got some thinking to do, and I do that best on my feet.”
Her apron read Some of us are born left-handed, and the rest of you will just have to cope as best you can.
“You got to get organized, Mayor.” She pulled a skillet from the rack. “I’d hate to think of her sitting alone at your place, wishing for a drink of water or ice cream or something. And pills. When you get out of the hospital, they stock you up with pills, and just to confuse you, they have you take each one at a different time.”
“Stella can set up a volunteer schedule to cover all hours I’m not home, plus I’ll get caregivers coming in to help her with medicines and baths. I’ll have a phone pinned to her bed. No matter what happens, I can be home in five minutes.”
He paused. “What no one knows is she will insist on keeping the shop open, so Jillian will probably be taking over until Gram is well enough to return. I did my best to fill her in on all the details last night, but it was late and we’d both had a long, stressful day.”
Connor swore he saw a light bulb blink on inside Mrs. K’s mind. “Now I understand. You and Jillian must have worked most of the night figuring out the details. You poor babies.”
Mrs. K cracked two eggs on the edge of a bowl as she motioned him out of the kitchen with her head. “Go get washed up in that bedroom on the second floor. The one you stayed in during your remodel. You’ve got a full day, I’m guessing, and I’ll have breakfast ready in no time. You two probably haven’t had a meal since all this started.”
Connor nodded as he noticed Jillian leaning against the sunroom door. Her clothes were wrinkled, and her hair wild as a tumbleweed. His words were for Mrs. K, but his gaze never left Jillian. “I love being bossed around by a woman who can cook.”
Following orders, he did his best to clean up, even shaved with an expensive razor left in the samples basket by the sink. When he walked out of the second-floor bedroom, Jillian was coming down from her room upstairs.
“Morning.” He wished he were brave enough to tell her how he’d liked sleeping with her last night. “I never would have taken you for a cuddler until last night.”
“I was cold.” She didn’t look at him. That beautiful midnight hair concealed her face.
“I wasn’t cold at all. You kept me warm.” The need to touch her almost blocked out all other thoughts. He had no idea what people say to one another the morning after.
He could kid himself and say nothing happened. They hadn’t removed a single piece of clothing. But he made a point of never lying to himself. They may not have put it in so many words, but they’d agreed that while she was in town they’d be together. Last night wasn’t just a few stolen moments. It was the start of something, and he had no doubt that when it ended he’d be the one who walked away hurting.
She slipped past him. “Smells like breakfast is ready.”
He caught her hand in a loose grip.
She didn’t try to pull away. Finally, she looked up at him and he realized he had nothing to say. “I...I...”
She grinned. “I know. I feel the same way.” Then she was gone, dancing down the stairs.
Connor stood on the second-floor landing, watching her disappear. She’d said all that needed to be said. No promises. No scene about what happened last night. No regrets.
16
High school should qualify as a lower level of hell when you’ve been up all night at the hospital, Sunnie decided as she tapped her forehead against the door of her locker. Most of her classes were barely tolerable when she’d slept the night before. Now, when she was exhausted, they were layers of torture mayonnaised with boredom.
She already hated everything about her sophomore year, so there was no downhill to slide to. She felt like a lifer the state had imprisoned for no reason at all.
She hadn’t learned anything in school for years. Why did they need teachers anyway? She could find out any information she wanted to know on Google in one minute.
Like a drunk zombie, she moved down the hallway.
Half the kids in her class had already reached their mental heights and were just hanging around, hoping to have fun, so they coul
d talk about the good old days on fifteen-minute work breaks for the rest of their lives.
She’d slept through two classes and no one noticed. Mayor’s daughter or not, she’d given up responding when she was called on. It took a while, but the teachers had finally stopped asking her questions in class. She read the chapter, watched the films, plowed though the computer games designed to make learning fun. But she didn’t talk in class. That would be like talking to the goldfish in the commons aquarium.
As long as she made passing grades, no one pestered her for class participation.
When lunch finally came, she wove around all the groups that were talking in clusters. Sunnie decided they really did look like the schools of fish in the huge tank that separated the cafeteria from the hallway.
“What did you get on the algebra test?” Brianna Baxter bounced into her line of sight. She was a head shorter and three bra sizes bigger than Sunnie. Life was so unfair.
“I made a hundred. My mom says if I keep it up, I can have a mani and a pedi every month, even if it’s not sandals weather.”
One of the fish was talking. Sunnie kept walking.
Brianna stayed beside her. “Unless it’s like, snowing or something, I think it’s okay to wear flip-flops, don’t you? Of course your toes get dirty if it’s muddy. I can’t stand that.”
Sunnie shrugged and went back to the first question. “I don’t remember what I got on the test.”
“You failed it, didn’t you?” Brianna made a sad face cute enough to put on any text. “Don’t worry. You’ll catch on. I could even help you. Mrs. McDonald said I’m a good tutor. I taught Elbert Rhodes his sevens last year. Can you believe he made it to the ninth grade and didn’t know all his multiplication tables?” She raised her way-too-thick eyebrows. “So, we could study together if you want to.”
“No, thanks,” Sunnie managed to say without cussing as she wondered how pretty, perky Brianna would look with her nose inverted.
“I got to go. Thanks for the offer.” Sunnie backed away. Another sad state of high school. Double B was probably her best friend, and she hadn’t even asked about how Gram was. The whole town seemed to know that Gram had taken a fall and was in the hospital. Honestly, Dad did not need to bother with a news blog.
She walked out to the atrium—or the green space, as they called it—which was walled in by an eight-foot-high brick wall. Dead leaves and smashed milk cartons circled in baby tornados across colorful concrete blocks that had been designed to give a modern look to a worthless corridor. No one ever came out here. It was too cold in winter, too hot in summer, too depressing year-round.
Sunnie’s favorite place to eat lunch. Alone. Cold. Quiet.
Pulling out an apple she’d stolen off Gram’s tray at the hospital, she sat down under a tree that offered no shelter and dialed Gram’s cell.
One ring. Two. Three.
“Hi, Button.” Joe Dunaway answered after he juggled the phone for a while.
Sunnie smiled. The man had been old all her life, and he’d always called her Button for no reason at all. “Hi, Joe. You still at the hospital with Gram? Shouldn’t you go home and rest?”
“I’m not leaving until Jeanie does. Which might be later today. We’ve been watching Golden Girls reruns since breakfast and she just dozed off. I’m supposed to call your daddy to come get her when they’re ready for her to check out of this place. Once he picks her up, I’m going home and sleeping the clock around.”
“You’re a good friend, Joe.”
“Have been since we were your age. She started dating my best friend, and I just decided I’d better hang around and watch over them both.”
“You still are.”
“Jeanie’s got many others keeping up with her. For one, you’re the best great-granddaughter she’s got. Best one she ever had.”
“I’m the only one she ever had.” Sunnie decided they should make a talking doll just like Joe. It would be downright huggable.
“Tell Gram I’ll see her when I get home from school.”
“I will. Bye, Button.”
Sunnie shoved the phone back into her pocket and finished her apple. She’d hear the bell when it was time to go back. She’d somehow survive the next three classes. Then, she’d go home and spend time with Gram.
The glass door clicked open, but Sunnie didn’t turn around. All she wanted was her quiet time, alone time.
“You all right, Shorty?” A familiar voice sounded from behind her.
“I’m fine.” She didn’t have to turn around to know who’d wandered out to bother her.
“How’s your gram?” Derrick moved into her line of sight, and she tried to figure out why she’d ever thought he was good-looking.
“I’m only asking because everyone thinks we’re together, and they’re all asking me how you’re doing and how that old lady is. My history teacher even asked and so did that crazy secretary in the office. You know the one that has wooden jewelry for every holiday, including Flag Day.”
“Tell everyone we’re not together, me and you. That’s a good answer.” They hadn’t even had their first date, but they did have one hell of an argument.
“I was thinking about that. Maybe I should give you another chance. This is a rough time for you and you might need someone to lean on.”
“Any chain-link fence will do, but thanks for the offer.”
He shrugged. “I’ll give you some time to think about it. You don’t even drive, Shorty. I could take you wherever you need to go.”
“Thanks.” A gnat’s life would be too long to ponder her option, but right now she just wanted him to leave.
When he didn’t move, she stood and asked, “Would you tell the office I had to go home? My gram needs me.”
“I could take you?”
Since the Autumn Acres bus gave her a lift this morning, she could use a ride home. If she called her dad, he’d just tell her to stay the day. Even when she claimed she was sick, he’d make her go to school so the nurse could offer a second opinion.
“All right, but you can’t come in. Gram will need her rest.” Hopefully he didn’t know Gram was still in the hospital.
“Sure. I’ll just tell the office I’m running you home and will be right back.”
Ten minutes later when she thanked him for the ride, he said he’d check in later. Sunnie was too tired to argue. Between the machines last night, the nurses coming in every ten minutes and Joe’s snoring, Sunnie wasn’t sure she’d slept, period.
She made it four feet inside, collapsed on the couch, and was asleep before Derrick backed out of the drive.
What felt like moments later, someone was pounding on something out front.
Sunnie scrubbed her face and staggered to the door. The noise wasn’t a knocking sound, but banging coming from the side of the porch.
“What’s going on?” She yelled out into the yard when she didn’t see anyone.
Reese Milton raised his head, removed his dirty hat and let his wild, rust-colored hair stand up in every direction. He stared at her through the white spokes on the porch railing. “Sorry, Sunnie. Didn’t know you were home.”
She walked out far enough to see the pile of boards and piping scattered in the grass like a huge Erector set. “Shouldn’t you be in school, Reese?” He’d been in every other class she’d taken since she started school but they’d never been friends. Funny how some people are just around, but you never really bother talking to them.
“School was out an hour ago. The mayor called my dad and asked him to put up a ramp. Dad’s busy on a remodel so he told me to get started.”
“Do you know how?” She shoved hair out of her face.
“It’s not rocket science, Sunnie. I’ve been helping my dad the past two summers, plus most weekends on remodels.” He cocked his head, studying her. “Were you asleep? You got seriou
s bed hair.”
“You got hat hair,” she answered back like a third grader.
Reese shoved his cap back on. “I’m not picking on you. I understand if you want to nap. Your boyfriend told everyone in biology that you stayed up all night with your gram at the hospital. He said you held her hand while she suffered.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend and Gram didn’t suffer. She slept.” The hammering may have stopped on the porch, but it still seemed to be going on in her head.
“That’s not what Derrick said.” Reese grinned and shifted his hammer from one hand to the other.
Maybe he was lying about Derrick, or trying to irritate her because she was keeping him from working. She tried reason. It was that or all-out screaming. “What would Derrick be doing in your sophomore biology? He’s a senior.”
“I didn’t ask. He sits behind me, though, and it’s my guess, judging from his grades, the guy may have a third senior year, but he’s good-looking. Just ask him. There is no mistaking Derrick for anyone else. Every day, like clockwork, he makes an entrance into class just as the bell sounds.” Reese started back to work. “I don’t know what girls see in the guy. He’s got no brains. He passed me a picture of an amoeba last week and whispered, ‘Do you think this is male or female?’”
She didn’t argue. Maybe Reese was right. She sat down on the porch and watched him work. Until last year, he’d been shorter than her, but lately he’d shot up. He’d finally gotten over that awkward stage when boys look like colts. Working for his dad had put muscle on his thin frame.
After a while, she said, “Reese, how long have we known each other?”
He didn’t look up from measuring. “I don’t know. Forever, I guess. I saw you naked when we were five. That’s my first memory of you.”
“How’d I look?” Her cover girl smile was wasted on him.
“Skinny. Skin as white as chalk. You took off your clothes right here in this front yard and slid down the slip ’n slide.”
She laughed. “I think I remember that, or maybe I just remember Dad lecturing me for years about how proper young ladies don’t take off their clothes in the front yard. You’d think it was some major crime.”
