“Unbelievable.” Nina realized her hands were trembling as she held the paper, but she couldn’t begin to pinpoint what emotion was responsible for the tremor.
Incredulity? Relief? Or the swell of anger that returned to her now along with a renewed sense of betrayal?
“You are a generous, warmhearted woman, Nina.” Gram lifted a hand from her walker to lay on Nina’s back. “But even so, this bimbo has lost her marbles if she believes draining your bank account and running you out of business isn’t going to affect your friendship.”
“I’m sure she thinks if I go to the Seychelles it will magically be all better.” She stood in the quiet kitchen, hair still dripping while a songbird trilled just outside the screen door. And something about the tone of the letter suddenly reminded her of other letters and other broken promises.
“What exactly are the Seychelles?” Gram asked. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”
She pronounced it like “sea shells” and let the brunt of her Tennessee accent fully brutalize the word.
Nina couldn’t help but smile. “It’s an island chain in the Indian Ocean that most people only get to see on National Geographic.”
But then, Olivia had visited lots of places Nina had only dreamed about. Maybe that had been part of her appeal as a friend. Nina had often lived vicariously through Olivia’s adventures. These days, though, she wondered why she’d cared. Living in New York had fulfilled some of her wanderlust. Besides, she wasn’t the girl who’d been left behind anymore, always wishing she could jet off to wherever her parents might be.
Gram gave a dubious harrumph and pointed a weathered finger at the purple notepaper. “You know who she sounds like in this letter?”
Nina shook her head, too overwhelmed to say much.
“Your mom.” Gram edged her walker away from Nina toward the kitchen cabinets, the awkward movement rousing Nina from her reverie to help.
“Seriously?” Funny, she’d just been thinking about her parents. She kept an eye on Gram’s feet to make sure each shuffling step landed securely.
“Well, sure.” Gram pointed to the cabinet where she kept the tea, so Nina opened it and then reached sideways to heat the kettle on the stove. “She’s sorry for letting you down, but sends her love and wants forgiveness. She’s off running around the world with no real worry about her responsibilities back home because all her life, someone else has cleaned up her messes.”
Nina let that sink in while Gram lifted one tea tin after another, searching for the flavor she wanted today.
“You’re right,” she acknowledged finally, amazed to realize that Gram had seen through Olivia in five seconds flat. “I can’t believe I went into business with a clone of my mother.” Maybe, in some weird way, she’d hoped Olivia wouldn’t let her down all the times her mom had.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Gram unearthed a faded tin of Lemon Zinger from the back of the cabinet and brought it down to the counter.
“It makes total sense, though. I left here because I was restless and needed a change of scenery after Vince’s death.” She hadn’t been thinking about Mack or Jenny or Vince’s family. She’d been focused on burying her own hurt. “And because I was trying to forget the past, I hung out with friends who were equally...self-involved.”
Her shoulders slumped.
“Oh, honey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You were a driving force behind the success of that business in spite of the fact you partnered with a flighty nut.” Gram’s phone rang but she ignored it. “Don’t mistake your natural vivacious personality for some kind of defect. You are enthusiastic and optimistic and we wouldn’t want you any other way.”
She appreciated her grandmother letting her off the hook so easily, but Nina wasn’t quite as sure.
“You want me to grab that?” Nina searched around the kitchen for Gram’s phone while it chimed again.
“No. I’ll call him back.”
“Him?”
“Just a hunch.” She winked. “How about you fix that tea while I take a seat and you can tell me all about your next move? If you really think Miss Olivia will return that money, are you going to try and save that business you worked so hard to build?”
A week ago she would have answered in a blink, ready to start whipping up some cupcakes. Not anymore. She wasn’t sure what she would do professionally, but she was still certain she wanted to come home.
Nina watched her grandmother edge across the kitchen with the walker, angling the device through a narrow spot between an antique secretary and the corner of the table. It was a constant battle for Nina to restrain herself from helping too much, since that only riled Gram up and Nina understood her need for independence. Plus, Gram’s new physical therapist had showed Nina the kinds of tasks that Gram should be able to manage on her own. But there was an increasingly long list of things she couldn’t manage, and if she was going to keep any part of her independence, she needed Nina here.
“No.” She felt a new peace settle over her as she confided her plans to her grandmother. “I’m staying right here.”
“Really, honey?” Gram looked surprised for a second before she grinned. “I’m so glad to hear it. You deserve some closure with Mack. He’s such a fine man.”
Mack? Nina’s sense of peace evaporated. When had she said anything about Mack, let alone closure? Their wounds went too deep to slap a bandage on them and be done.
Too late, Nina realized that now that she was staying, she needed to find a way to keep a surface peace with Mack and protect her heart at the same time.
* * *
PULLING INTO A parking spot outside the fairgrounds, Ally was grateful when her cell phone rang. A phone call meant she could delay her meeting with Rachel Wagoner for at least another minute or two. She’d been dreading seeing her ever since Mr. Cummings set up the time for the girls to merge their ideas for the straw maze.
Crossing her fingers that it was Rachel calling to cancel, Ally pawed through her backpack on the passenger seat to find her phone. She was shocked to see the number that came up on caller ID.
Pressing the button to connect the call as fast as possible, she hit the speaker button, too.
“Gram?” She held her breath waiting for the answer.
“Good morning, Alessandra.” Her grandmother’s voice came through strong and clear on the other end.
Gram must be having a good day, even if she did think it was morning at two o’clock in the afternoon. Ally toyed with the mini pink flashlight attached to her key ring while she watched a flatbed truck pull into the parking lot with a load of hay bales.
“Hi, Gram. It’s great to hear from you.” She wouldn’t bother complaining about how much she’d missed staying overnight at her house or how much she wished Gram had picked up the phone that day she’d scratched herself into the hospital. If she kept things light and happy, Gram might be more likely to invite her for a sleepover again. Ally imagined them wrapped up together in a quilt at midnight while they watched an Audrey Hepburn marathon. Her grandmother always said she’d longed to be like those Hepburn heroines, ethereal and victorious all at once.
“I hear I missed a call from you the day you were taken to the hospital.” Gram cut to the chase and caught Ally totally off guard. She dropped the pink flashlight and stuffed the car keys in her bag.
“Did Dad tell you that?” She hated appearing weak to her grandmother, whom she admired. More than that, she hated to give Gram things to worry about. “It was no big deal.”
On the other end of the call, Ally could hear a soap opera playing on a blaring television, the violins really swelling.
“Honey, we say things like that to other people. Not to each other.”
Ally swallowed hard. How could Gram see right through her when they weren’t even face-to-face?
“Um. I’m not sure what you mea
n.”
“I mean you can put on a happy face for the world, but don’t hedge the truth with the people who love you.”
The stab of guilt worked for a minute. Until Ally realized that knife cut both ways.
“Are you sure about that?” She cracked the window on the car, the unseasonable heat already making the interior stuffy.
“They are words to live by, young lady.”
“Then why haven’t you been answering your phone when I call lately? You didn’t come to the door when Mom and I dropped by last week.” She hoped it was okay to say those things to Gram. Dad said she was fragile and they needed to be careful with what they said to her, but Ally saw a different side of her grandmother. The side that stayed up half the night watching chick movies. The side that decided 1:00 a.m. would be the perfect time to make a batch of divinity as light and airy as Audrey Hepburn.
“In my day, missy, we called that backtalk.” Gram’s voice was stiff with disapproval.
Had her grandmother changed that much in the last few months? Worry gnawed at her. Had she waited this long to talk to Gram only to find out she wasn’t Ally’s friend anymore?
“I just meant that I want to know what’s going on with you because I miss you.” Her voice didn’t break, but the words came out high-pitched and uneven.
“I miss you, too, and I will hear your explanation for the hospital visit when you come stay with me for a few days.”
“Really?” Ally felt a surge of hopefulness that she hadn’t alienated her grandmother. “You mean it?”
“I do not talk to hear myself speak.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ally’s spirits lifted. Gram was old-school. A “yes, ma’am” went a long way to appeasing her. Besides, how mad could she be if she wanted Ally to come hang out? “I can come over today after I finish up a project with a girl from my class.”
She didn’t mention it was for Harvest Fest. She wasn’t sure how Gram would do with reminders of Gramp. It really had been a crap year for both of them.
“Very well. I will endeavor to answer the door in a timely fashion when you arrive.”
Ally laughed as she watched the Tennessee sunshine filter in through the windshield and reveal tiny dust motes in the air. “Awesome. See you then.”
It wasn’t until she disconnected the call that she realized she’d need to come up with something to tell Gram about her scratching. And it had to be good because Gram—even at half-speed—understood her better than either of her parents. She also had a finely tuned BS meter.
That stopped her. What if it turned out she and Gram had more in common than a shared sense of humor and a lot of divinity? Ally was already seeing one psychologist. Maybe she’d end up needing a whole lot more than that.
Grabbing her backpack, Ally figured she’d worry about that later. For now, she was already late to her meeting. Shoving open the door, she almost hit someone.
“Watch it!” a feminine voice snapped at her.
Ally looked up from the car seat to see...Rachel Wagoner.
“Oh.” She blinked, momentarily blinded by yellow and bling. From the yellow designer handbag covered in clear sequins to the jean skirt and yellow ribbon on her long blond braid, Rachel was the most color-coordinated girl Ally had ever seen. “Sorry.”
“I think that’s going to bruise.” Rachel frowned down at her thigh, where Ally must have hit her with the door.
“You came out of nowhere.” Standing, Ally locked her car.
“Not really.” Rachel frowned and pointed to the back of the parking lot near a tree line where the autumn season painted leaves as yellow as Rachel’s clothes. “I just parked in the row behind you.”
Ally easily found the robin’s-egg-blue sports coupe. A cool convertible was really an unfair advantage for a teenage girl since teen boys drooled over cars almost as much as they did girls.
Ethan was no exception.
“I don’t think it will bruise.” Ally realized it sounded mean. But since she wanted to tell Rachel that it was her own damn fault if it did bruise since her skirt didn’t cover enough of her thigh, Ally figured she’d made a reasonable compromise. Shifting gears, she stuffed her hand in the pocket of her jeans. “Where do you want to work?”
“Oh, my God. Are you okay?” Rachel stared at the bandage on Ally’s wrist, which peeked from under her shirt sleeve when she bent her arm.
Hastily, she pulled her hand out of her pocket and yanked down the cuff with her fingers.
“Fine.” Her cheeks heated and she was sure they must be beet-red. The bandages were too big for her to fit the extra layer of friendship bracelets, so she hadn’t been able to wear them since that day she’d been treated at the hospital. “Why don’t we head to the maze area and take a look at the section they’ve marked out for the maze?”
She slung her backpack over one shoulder and started walking, not really caring if Rachel followed or not.
“You’re the girl from The Strand, aren’t you?” Rachel’s footsteps were right behind her as they walked past pickup trucks full of hay bales and temporary fencing for the 4H exhibits. Volunteers were busy making a graveyard outside a visitor information booth that would become the haunted house.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ally walked faster. Her healing arms itched, and not from the scabs forming under the bandages. The need to rake her fingernails over her skin was so strong she didn’t know how she’d get through the afternoon.
Then again, if she couldn’t find a way to control the scratching herself, her new psychologist had mentioned an arsenal of scary-sounding drugs. The worst of which was anti-seizure medication. She forced herself to be strong.
“You were at the salon the last time I came in for highlights. You had to leave.” Rachel cut her off as they rounded a corner near the bathrooms, surprising Ally with her speed. “All the stylists were really worried about you.”
“Yes. Well.” Ally stopped before they reached the area where the maze would be set up. “As you can see, there was no reason for them to worry. My hair turned out fine after all.”
She would brazen this out until the bitter end because what was her alternative? Admit to one of the most popular girls in school that she’d had a breakdown in the salon bathroom on Saturday?
“Fine. Don’t admit it.” Rachel kept on walking, her leather ankle boots stirring up dust. “But I hope you’re not listening to the rumors about me, because they’re not true.”
It took Ally a moment to register what she was saying.
“I don’t listen to rumors.” She had to hurry to catch up with Rachel who had turned her speed to overdrive.
By the time she reached her, the girl had already taken a seat on one of the donated hay bales beside the field that would be their maze. She dragged a small leather-bound notebook and an electronic tablet out of her handbag, her movements jerky and rough.
Angry.
“Sure you don’t. That’s why you avoid speaking to me unless you have to and even then, you act like it’s a big imposition and that I’m too stupid to know when we were at the same hairdresser.”
Ally noticed a bunch of the clear sequins on Rachel’s purse were caught on a piece of hay.
“Um.” She moved closer, pointing to the bag. “You’re going to lose that whole row of sequins if these go.”
“Who cares? My mom will be thrilled for an excuse to buy ten more dopey glitter bags.” Rachel glared at her. “Are you ready to work so we can get this over with?”
Shouldering off her backpack and letting it fall onto the ground next to the hay bale, Ally leaned down to free the sequins before the strand attaching them broke.
“There. It’s not a dopey bag. I’ve noticed that one in a display case at Macy’s before. It’s really pretty.” She didn’t know what she’d done to make Ra
chel angry, but Ally recognized hurt-anger when she saw it.
And, maybe it was an indication of how screwed up her life was right now, but she could totally relate to hurt-anger.
Rachel pursed her lips as if she’d just tasted a lemon and continued to glare.
Ally’s sympathy faded. “You know what?” Ally dropped down on the hay bale beside her. “I can do cold silences all day long, so if that’s the way we’re going to play it—”
“God, no.” Rachel’s expression fell. “I don’t think I have it in me to pull off cold silence today.” She passed her tablet to Ally. “Let’s call a truce long enough to get the homework done, okay? I already started combining our plans to save us some time. Feel free to change whatever you want.”
Ally accepted the tablet, noticing Rachel had used the same algorithm program she had to calculate the angles for the walls. But now, instead of Ally’s sharp sprawling fortress walls or Rachel’s elaborate labyrinth, the straw maze on the screen was less complicated than either of their original plans and incorporated some of the more interesting features of each. Two turrets decorated the facade of the front wall, but the rest of the maze was open to the sky.
“Wow.” The overview angle allowed Ally to see the lines of the maze clearly, but there would be plenty of twists and turns for visitors inside the maze. “I can’t believe you did all this. It’s perfect.”
“It’s a traditional layout, so I can’t take credit for it. I just used the classic seven-circuit model instead of the more complex plan I proposed initially.” Rachel’s voice sounded more relaxed. Less angry.
And even as they sat together on the hay bale planning out the maze, Ally wondered how a girl like Rachel Wagoner with a robin’s-egg-blue convertible sports car could be so familiar with cold silences. Or why she would worry about rumors.
Ally wanted to ask her more about that, but guessed Rachel would only be offended. Why would she talk about herself when Ally hadn’t answered any of Rachel’s questions? Guilt stabbed at Ally while she made some adjustments to the maze design.
Ally decided she would ask Gram for advice on the Rachel situation when she went over to her house. Maybe that would distract Gram from quizzing Ally about the hospital visit. Because if Rachel hadn’t spilled the secret, maybe there was still a chance that Ethan wouldn’t find out. Unfortunately, just as Ally passed Rachel’s tablet back to her with a few changes to the facade of the maze, two people approached them who knew all about Ally’s problems. Wasn’t it just her luck that Uncle Mack and her old babysitter Nina Spencer were headed their way with the cans of spray paint for marking out the maze?
Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good ManPromises Under the Peach TreeHusband by Choice Page 42
