“Y’all ready for cake?” Lou called from the porch. “My grandmama’s recipe! Come and get it!”
Tanner waved. “Thanks, Lou!” He looked back down at Francie then. “Hope you’re staying for cake.”
She narrowed her eyes, and he thought her shoulders straightened a little. He’d picked at her about as much as she’d allow for today, he could tell. Maybe she’d decide to leave if she’d had enough. Or maybe she’d stay, even though he’d opened a wound between them. Something that might need to bleed a bit before it would heal.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said.
Chapter Five
Francie pried open the paint lid and set it aside on the plastic drop cloth. Then she stood up beside Maddie and looked down with her hands on her hips.
“There it is,” she said. “Burnished Tuscany. What do you think?”
Maddie smiled, pushing her glasses up. “It’s super pretty. It reminds me of fall.”
“It’s awfully orange.”
“I like it.”
“Okay. Ready to get our paint on?”
Maddie jabbed her roller in the air. “Ready!”
The draft blowing on their shoulders was cool and delicious, thanks to Tanner. He’d come over and fixed her window unit, so the painting job ahead was more of a treat than tedious. At least that’s how she felt with Maddie beside her, in all her tween excitement.
She gazed out the window to where he was currently chopping back the wisteria. A monstrous job that made his thin, white T-shirt stick to his back. It was a nice view, she had to admit. He’d turned his baseball cap backward and his dark hair stuck out underneath, dripping with sweat.
Francie kept sneaking looks, something that Maddie was starting to notice.
The little girl grinned. “You can take the lemonade out to him before we start, if you want.”
“What? Oh. That’s okay. When did we decide to take it out? Noon?” She looked at her watch. “It’s not even eleven yet.”
“He looks pretty hot, though.”
“He does. He does look pretty hot.”
Maddie giggled.
“Okay, Miss Maddie,” Francie said, smiling, “you take that wall, and I’ll take this one over here.” She reached over to her vintage transistor radio on the windowsill and flipped it on. Something crackly and Garth Brooks came out, filling the room with a country song that reminded her of elementary school.
Maddie dipped her roller in paint and began tackling the wall, her arms reaching almost as high as Francie’s. Her hair was pulled back into its signature ponytail, swinging busily behind her as if it, too, had a job to do.
Francie watched her for a second, enjoying the moment, quiet in its simplicity. She had painting company. She had a strong, hunky man working in her yard. And despite what that nagging voice of reason inside her head told her, she looked forward to the fact that it was a big job. That he’d committed to several weeks of juggling her place, along with his other clients’, too.
Francie didn’t exactly have a full social calendar since moving back to Marietta. She had Audrey, who was always a blessing. And she had her parents, but that was it. Truthfully, she’d been lonely. Tanner and Maddie showing up had been the sweetest, most unexpected gift. Even if she was still trying to figure this new Tanner out. The grown-up who was so markedly different than the teenager. He was stoic, sexy, brooding. But there was also something else deep down, and it had something to do with her, she could feel it.
He’d held a mirror up in front of her face the other day, and she hadn’t liked it.
She moved the roller up and down, as Garth crooned from the windowsill. She hadn’t let herself think too much about what he’d said, because whenever she did, her heart beat a little faster. Her palms grew slightly damp. It was weird that those old high school memories made her anxious. Because she wasn’t in denial or anything. She wasn’t. And then she’d remind herself that she’d simply done the best she could, and she breathed easier again.
Maddie bent to put more paint on her roller, her bangs flopping over one eye.
“So, how’s it going, honey?” Francie asked.
“Okay. Look! I’m almost done with this side. I mean, we’ll have to do another coat, but still.”
“It looks great.” She paused and pushed her hair away from her face before continuing again. “But I meant, how’s it going? In general, I mean. Here with your brother?”
“Oh.” The little girl stood on her toes and rolled over the bare spots with the paint. “It’s going pretty good.” She looked over and smiled, tiny orange spatters freckling her nose. “Thank you for watching me this summer.”
Francie’s heart twisted. How many times had she been tempted to take Maddie into her arms since she’d met her? More than she could count. But she was careful to keep her distance, careful not to push where physical affection was concerned. She didn’t even know if Maddie was the cuddling kind. Maybe she’d rebuff a hug, resenting the implication she was a baby. Twelve was a complicated age. The body was growing, but the heart was still so tender.
“I’m just happy you’d want to hang out with me,” Francie said. “And you’re even helping me paint. I’m pretty lucky.”
Maddie pulled up her shorts with one hand, but they sagged again immediately. She was like a baby horse.
“I love to paint,” she said. “Tanner helped me paint my bedroom once when I was little. Bubblegum pink.” At that, a shadow passed over her face. “I remember because my mom was going to do it, but she had a fight with my dad.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“They fought a lot. He was always mad.” She shrugged her thin shoulders. “But Tanner hung out with me when my mom couldn’t. He helped build forts for my stuffed animals when they were fighting. He protected me.”
The words were gut wrenching. Protected her. From how many things was Tanner able to protect his baby sister? And how old had he been himself? Just a baby, really.
“He’s a good big brother,” Francie said, trying to keep her voice even.
“The best. All my brothers are. They moved out when I was a baby, Luke and Judd did. But they always bought my school clothes and stuff like that.”
The little girl was slowly painting a picture of what her childhood had been like under the care of her mother, and it was stark. Francie thought about her own mom, so obsessed with perfection and smiles, and weekend beauty pageants. It couldn’t have been a more different upbringing, yet she couldn’t help seeing a similarity that she would’ve had a hard time admitting to anyone else. Her mother hadn’t ever seen her. Not really. And it sounded like Maddie’s hadn’t, either.
She looked out the window to where Tanner worked. He faced the house, so she could see his expression clearly enough. Serious concentration as he negotiated the plants, shaping them, molding them, like the artist he was. There was a shadow of a beard along his jaw, and the ropy muscles in his forearms flexed as he reached up to cut down a particularly thick vine. This man, the one who looked so fierce doing his job now, had built stuffed animal forts with his little sister as a teen. To distract her. To protect her.
She remembered him in freshman English, how she’d been furious at Guy’s behavior, but how she’d gone on to her second period class, able to forget it. Able to tuck it away, so it didn’t taint the delicate bubble around her perfect little world. Because she was the beauty queen and Guy was the star athlete. It was just how it was supposed to be. Tanner had been a side note. Something to trouble herself over, if only briefly, so she could live with herself later. Like a project?
And there it was again—that anxiety that had risen in her throat the day of Maddie’s party. The day Tanner had confronted her with things she didn’t necessarily want to remember. That made her want to stomp her foot and shake her head. I didn’t do that! You’re remembering it wrong!
But if she was guilty of distorting reality, so was he. He was wrong when he said he hadn’t been strong. He was. Sh
e remembered that part clearly. It was a quiet strength that had been smoldering underneath the surface the whole time. Until it had eventually sparked and caught fire that day. That day in the gym.
She could see the blood gushing from Guy’s nose, the rage on his face. He’d been a big kid for his age with broad shoulders and a thick neck. He must’ve outweighed Tanner by forty pounds. But he’d underestimated the smaller boy’s spirit. And how tired he was of everyone’s bullshit.
Francie looked over at his little sister now, so sweet and gawky. Her ponytail was spattered with paint now, too, and there were a few drops down the front of her tank top.
After hesitating a second, Francie reached out and rubbed her back. Maddie turned, and for one brief moment, she wondered if it had been a mistake. Francie was a shameless hugger. It had taken adulthood and becoming a teacher to appreciate not everyone was. Especially not every child.
But Maddie’s lips curved into a grin. Underneath the thick lensed glasses, her deep hazel eyes smiled, too.
“You know what?” Maddie said.
“What?”
“I bet Tanner would want some lemonade now. Can we take a break and have a glass outside?”
Francie looked out the window to where the bright Montana sun bathed the yard in its warm glow. Charlotte was lying in the shade, snapping at a fly. Someone else was crooning over the radio now, something about love gone wrong. And the house felt like home, truly home, for the first time ever.
Turning back to Maddie, she tossed her roller on the drop cloth. “That’s a good idea, kid. Let’s hit it.”
*
Tanner sat on the porch swing next to Maddie, rocking back and forth in the balmy, summer evening. The sun had gone down, leaving the sky a grainy purple, and the air a little cooler against their skin.
Maddie picked up her Sprite, and the ice clinked in the glass. It was the only sound except for the squeaking of the swing, and it made Tanner nostalgic for evenings like this when he’d been little. When his mom had been between boyfriends, and had been a presence in his life. She’d liked porch swings. It was the reason he had one now.
Kicking her flip-flops off, Maddie brought her long legs up to cross them, and jabbed Tanner in the side with her knee.
He gave her a look, then laughed and gazed back out to the dark mountains in the distance. “If those legs don’t stop growing, we’re gonna have to put a brick on your head.”
“Think I’ll be as tall as you?”
Surprisingly, she didn’t seem worried by the thought. He was glad. She seemed comfortable in her skin, at least for the time being.
“Maybe. And then I’ll have to teach you how to play basketball so you can get a full ride to the University of Montana.”
She fell quiet just as some crickets started yammering in the hibiscus to their left.
He looked over. “What?”
“Don’t you mean the University of Hawaii?”
Sighing, he leaned his head back and stared up at the sky. “Mads…”
“I’m not arguing,” she said evenly. As if she’d already accepted it. Which made him sad. “I’m just saying…it’ll probably be Hawaii. Won’t it?”
“Absolutely not. Not if you don’t want it to be. You can come back here for school. You can even live with me.”
“I want to live with you now.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Vivian had called the other day and he hadn’t called her back. He told himself it was because he’d been busy working.
“I know you do.” He left it at that. He couldn’t lie and say it was going to be just fine. Because it’d be hard. An adjustment for everyone. All Maddie had ever known was Montana and her brothers, who’d always carved out time to see her. Vivian was a loving woman, but she hadn’t been a constant presence in their lives. She’d been older than his mom by about ten years, and had moved to Hawaii with her husband when Jennifer was still in junior high. It was only now that she was coming forward, and even though Tanner knew it would be the best thing for Maddie, he also knew there was a significant amount of obligation there, too. Maybe even guilt for their aunt. She’d never been able to save her youngest sister. But she could raise her little girl—give her a good and decent childhood.
He swallowed, his tongue suddenly dry, and pushed a hand through his hair.
“Tanner?” Maddie’s voice was faint. There were so many things she might want to talk about. That she needed to talk about, and hadn’t yet. He was so out of his depth here.
“Yeah?” He turned, and her silhouette was soft in the dusky light.
“Colton asked if I could go to a movie. Can I?”
“I don’t…a movie?”
She nodded.
“Like…a date?”
“No. Like a movie.”
“Just the two of you?”
She nodded again.
Shit. He had absolutely no idea what to say. Yes? She was only twelve. She might not think it was a date, but Tanner had been twelve once, and he sure as hell knew Colton thought it was a date. And boys on dates did stupid things.
He cleared his throat.
“It’s not a date, Tanner!”
“Colton’s a good kid…”
“I know.”
“But I don’t feel comfortable letting you go alone.”
She watched him, hesitant.
“How about I ask Francie to go, too, and we’ll sit away from you guys? You won’t even know we’re there.”
Maddie contemplated this. She worshiped Francie. If Tanner had suggested he take them solo, she’d already be throwing a fit by now. Besides, the thought of sitting next to Francie in the dark for two hours wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not by a long shot.
“Like, how far away?” she asked, slapping at a mosquito.
“Like, totally far away.”
She laughed.
The crickets chirped. Charlotte scratched herself and her tags jingled. Tanner put his arm around his little sister and caught the scent of baby shampoo. It was a good night. He had no damn idea what tomorrow would bring. But tonight was a good night.
“Okay,” she said. “Deal.”
Chapter Six
“Tanner Harlow?” Audrey said skeptically through the straw in her iced tea.
Francie sat across from her best friend in their favorite booth at the Java Café. They were waiting for Francie’s mother. They did this every year—had a girls’ lunch that inevitably turned into Francie picking at a sandwich while Loretta Tate talked about everyone in town. Blessing their hearts, of course.
Francie shot her a look. “I’m telling you…”
“Yeah, I know. He grew. But Tanner?” Audrey added another pack of sweetener, her one and only vice, and stirred it around with her spoon. “He was always so…quiet.”
“Well, that’s because he could barely speak.” She looked at the door again. Her mom was late. She loved her, but their relationship was complicated at best, and she wanted to get this over with.
Turning back to Audrey, she touched the scalloped collar of her sheer, white blouse. “Does this look okay?”
Audrey frowned. “Why do you always feel like you have to dress up for her?”
“That’s easy for you to say. You always look perfect.” It was true. Even in old, ripped Levi’s, and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt, Audrey was breathtaking. Her wavy, dark bob hovered over one eye, and her glossy lips were tilted in that signature mischievous way. Francie blamed the bohemian-chic-artist thing she had going on.
But she was right. Francie still towed the line with her mom. Still did what was expected of her, even as an adult. She envied her best friend’s attitude. Audrey knew very well that Loretta would be quietly judging her clothes today, but she didn’t care. Or at least, she didn’t let it affect her wardrobe choices. Francie, not so much.
“Me?” Audrey said. “You’re the beauty queen.”
“I was never a beauty queen, remember? I never won squat.”
�
�Shut up. I don’t feel sorry for you.”
Ignoring her, Francie chose a particularly plump sweet potato fry and popped it in her mouth. Pure heaven.
“Um, speaking of clothes,” she said, her cheeks full, “I don’t know what to wear tomorrow. Help me.” It wasn’t exactly a date. Was it? Tanner had asked her to help chaperone something that wasn’t quite a date, either. But it was something other than him coming over to work in her yard, so in her eyes, she needed to look cute.
“If this is the guy I remember,” Audrey said, “he’s not gonna give a rip what you wear. He’ll love you regardless.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
“Come on.”
Francie picked out another fry, this time dipping it in ranch first before putting it in her mouth. “My blue eyelet skirt?”
“That, I like. And why wouldn’t he love you? What’s not to love?”
She touched her lips, checking for crumbs. “Let’s start with the fact that I dated the guy who made his life miserable in high school…”
“There’s that.”
“I’ve been thinking about it. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it a lot these past few weeks.” Francie leaned her head back against the booth. “I think he might blame me. Maybe not for Guy, but for how I was with Guy. Does that make sense?”
Her friend watched her steadily. “I think so.”
“I mean, I wasn’t that bad in school. Was I?”
“Girl, we all were.”
“But Tanner wasn’t. He was always so sweet. I can’t think of a single rotten thing he did to anyone.”
“He did break Guy’s face.” Audrey smiled. “That was pretty great.”
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