Tessa looked back and forth between them. They were both smiling. This couldn’t be good.
“Shopping?” she said. “For what?”
“The Come As You Aren’t Ball, of course.” At Tessa’s blank look, Babs gave her a squeeze. “Saturday night. It’s the benefit for the library.”
“Or the ducks,” Izzy said.
Babs grinned. “Oh, the ducks. Now, who doesn’t want to help the ducks?” She linked her arm through Tessa’s. “You should come with us. I’m going to go as a Goth chick, can you imagine?” She threw a wink at Izzy. “It was Izzy’s idea.”
Tessa shook her head. “I think I’ll pass.”
Babs and Izzy shared another look, with Izzy’s clearly saying, “I told you so.”
“Well, okay, darling. If you insist, it’s your choice.” She released Tessa and stretched out her hand to Izzy. “Looks like it’s you and me, kid.”
Izzy stood up and let Babs guide her out of the kitchen. Tessa watched them walk out together, her throat tightening with conflicting emotions as Izzy happily headed out with Babs. On the one hand, it was a relief to have someone else taking care of Izzy. On the other hand, how come it was so easy for Babs? Why didn’t Izzy argue with her? Why did they get to share conspiratorial winks when Tessa was only partially friend, mostly warden?
How was it that Babs was there for one day and already she was mothering Izzy better than Tessa had in the past ten years?
Tessa flew out after them, catching them in the foyer just as they opened the door. She grabbed Izzy’s backpack and held it while Izzy finished shrugging into her coat.
“Don’t forget to be at school by 8:05. If you’re late—”
Izzy grabbed the pack and made a face. “I know, I know.”
“Don’t worry, Tessa,” Babs said. “I’ll take her in myself.”
Izzy grabbed Babs’s arm. “Oh! Oh! Can I drive?”
Babs raised one eyebrow at Tessa. “Can she?”
Tessa smiled at Babs, appreciating the deference. “I hope you’re insured.”
Izzy squealed and bounced down the front steps. Babs tucked Tessa’s arm in hers and leaned her head against Tessa’s.
“She’s a lovely girl,” she said. “You’ve done an incredible job.” She pulled back and looked at Tessa. “You enjoy your day off.” She started out, then turned suddenly.
“Oh! I almost forgot; there’s a note for you on the sofa,” she said, her eyes twinkling for a moment before she followed Izzy down the porch steps.
Tessa watched until they pulled out of sight. Slowly, she shut the door, then went to the sofa and picked up the folded piece of paper with ‘Tessa” scribbled on the front in Finn’s handwriting. She ran her fingertips over the scrawl, and deja vu fell over her as she remembered all the notes he’d written her when they were kids.
But that was then. This was now. And they weren’t kids anymore. Squelching the warm feeling, she unfolded the note and read it.
T—
Hope you slept well. I had to go see a man about a horse. Or something like that. I don’t really know what that means. If it’s something bad, let’s pretend I never said it.
Tessa smiled.
Thanks for letting me crash. I’ll be back to confer with my client after she gets home from school, assuming she’s managed to go that long without getting into any major trouble. If she has, give her some milk and cookies, on me. Samoas if you have ’em.
As for you, get to work on that mole, damnit.
Always,
F.
Tessa let out a light laugh and pressed the note to her chest before she realized that she was acting like a love-struck teenager. Which was ridiculous. She folded the note, walked over to the coatrack, and tucked it in her purse. At that moment, the doorbell rang, and she gave a startled yelp and jumped back.
“Oh, no,” a high-pitched, saccharine voice came through the door. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me, Tessa thought, then pulled the door open. She blinked twice, not believing her eyes at first.
But no. It was definitely Mary Ellen Neeley, social-working troll from hell, standing on her porch, clutching her brown leather padfolio to her chest and looking like righteousness warmed over.
“Tessa!” Mary Ellen stepped inside and gave Tessa one of her big, pseudo-warm hugs. Pseudo-warm because Mary Ellen was all of ninety-eight pounds and couldn’t manage a body temperature of over sixty degrees in the middle of July, and also because Mary Ellen Neeley, with all her bright smiles and white teeth and curly blonde froth hair and soft-spoken manner, was possibly the most insincere person ever to walk the planet.
Still, Tessa hugged her back because Mary Ellen was her lifeline to keeping Izzy, and if that meant faking affection for the popsicle-stick troll, then that’s what she’d do.
“Oh, you look...” Mary Ellen paused, her eyes slowly grazing down Tessa’s T-shirt to her exposed thighs, then slowly back up again. Of course, Tessa knew damn well that Mary Ellen had noted her attire already; this show was for show.
“...comfortable,” Mary Ellen said, finishing off her sentence with a smile that deepened her dimples back into the black pit of hell from whence they sprang.
“Thank you,” Tessa said, snatching her trench off the coatrack and shrugging into it. “I just woke up.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about it,” Mary Ellen said brightly. “You should see me first thing in the morning. Goodness, I’m a fright!”
Tessa made a noncommittal noise, then ran her fingers through her hair.
“Speaking of first thing in the morning,” she said, trying to keep her voice polite, “you usually call before you visit.”
Mary Ellen gave a fake look of contrition. “I know. I’m so sorry. But I just came into town for a visit—I have an old friend in town—so I thought I’d drop in and see how you were.”
“Who’s your friend?” Tessa asked.
Mary Ellen gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “No one you’d know. So, are you going to the Come As You Aren’t Ball on Saturday? I hear it’s going to be very fun. A benefit for a day-care center, right?”
“I know everyone in town,” Tessa said, trying to keep her smile friendly.
“Hmmm?”
“It’s impossible for you to be visiting someone in this town that I don’t know, because I know everyone.”
“Yes.” Mary Ellen’s smile faded. “Can we talk?”
She pushed past Tessa into the house. Tessa let her smile fall like a brick as she kicked the front door shut and followed Mary Ellen into the living room, then forced the smile back to full wattage just as Mary Ellen turned around.
“May I?” Mary Ellen said, nodding toward the sofa.
“Of course,” Tessa said, holding one arm out in invitation, trying to keep the disdain out of her face. Lifeline to Izzy, lifeline to Izzy, she repeated in her head.
“So,” Tessa said, situating herself as far from Mary Ellen as she could get while still sitting on the sofa, “how long will you be in town?”
“Hmmm,” she hummed vaguely, turning a concerned expression to Tessa. “Actually, I told a little fib.”
“A little fib?” Tessa repeated, trying to figure out what kind of person spoke like that. Little fib. Jesus.
“I’m also in town because, well, I’m a little concerned. I received a phone call yesterday.” Mary Ellen leaned forward, speaking in a low tone and patting Tessa’s hand with her icy fingers of death. “About Izzy’s repeated absences from school.”
Tessa felt her muscles stiffen. “Yes. There’s a stomach bug going around, and Izzy—”
Mary Ellen laughed that high-pitched, tinkling laugh that grated on every nerve Tessa possessed. “Oh, I know, I know.” Mary Ellen’s face went serious. “But, you know, it’s my job to check in when things start looking dire.”
Tessa raised one eyebrow. “Dire?”
“You see, it’s my job to make sure that this environment is the best possib
le one for Izzy.” Mary Ellen smoothed her hands over her knees, and then her eyebrows quirked together and she sniffed. “Is something burning?”
“Um, no,” Tessa said, tugging at the hem of the coat to keep herself from scratching the woman’s eyes out. “We had a little bit of a kitchen disaster this morning.”
“Oh, goodness!” Mary Ellen put her hand to her chest. “A fire?”
“No, just smoke. Mostly.”
Mary Ellen’s eyes widened. “Mostly?”
Tessa stood up. “Thanks for stopping by, Mary Ellen. I really need to get started on the day.”
Mary Ellen stood up as well, clutching her padfolio to her nonexistent breast. ‘That’s fine, Tessa. I totally understand. I’d like to drop in maybe a little later and see Izzy, if that’s okay? It’s been so long, and you know how I feel about that little girl.”
“She’s not a little girl anymore,” Tessa said. “She’ll be graduating from high school at the end of next year.”
Mary Ellen sighed and headed toward the front door. “Let’s hope.”
Tessa stomped out after her. “Excuse me?”
“She dropped half her classes.”
“Just the AP ones. She wanted to graduate with the kids her age. And there are many studies from noted psychologists that show—”
“And then there’s the chronic truancy...”
“I’d hardly call it chronic,” Tessa said, but she could hear the lack of conviction in her own voice.
“...and the trouble she’s been getting into at school.”
“She played a prank on the principal. Big deal. Kids do that.”
“I’ve heard from the Robinsons,” Mary Ellen said. “They’ve expressed an interest in taking Izzy back, just until she finishes high school and comes of age.”
Tessa could swear her heart stopped beating. “You mean, the family that had Iz when she was six?”
Mary Ellen nodded. “Yes. And I think you should consider—”
“I’m not considering anything,” Tessa said. “Izzy stays with me. Period. The judge said so.”
Mary Ellen’s eyes went dark, and Tessa felt all her suspicions locking into place as truth. She’d beaten this woman in court, despite all her passive-aggressive bullying, and Mary Ellen would never forgive her for it. This wasn’t about Izzy’s best interests. It was about Mary Ellen’s pride and her overblown sense of her own power.
Mary Ellen pursed her lips. “Tessa, my only concern is for Izzy. I’m here to make sure that her best interests are met.”
Tessa felt her heart start up again, with a raging boom in her chest. “I have done nothing but see to Izzy’s best interests. I don’t have a life because of her best interests. I am nothing but a hollow shell of who I used to be because of Izzy’s best interests.”
“Children can sense resentment, Tessa,” Mary Ellen said, sanctimony curling around her like a swirling pool of evil.
“I don’t resent her,” Tessa said. “How dare you?”
Mary Ellen raised one eyebrow, flipped open the padfolio, and jotted something down, then sighed and raised her little beady eyes back to Tessa’s. “I see I’ve upset you.”
“You haven’t upset me!” Tessa snapped.
“Well,” Mary Ellen said, tucking the padfolio under her arm. “I’m going to check in with my friend. I’ll give Izzy a call later. And in the meantime”—she grasped Tessa’s hand in her talons—“I want you to really consider what’s best for Izzy. Okay?”
Tessa ripped her hand free of Mary Ellen’s and pulled the door open.
“I never consider anything else,” she said. Mary Ellen’s smile was finally gone, and she slipped out the door into the frigid air. It was all Tessa could do to keep from slamming the door behind her.
The Robinsons have expressed an interest. ..
Bullshit. Mary Ellen had hunted them down and asked them if they’d take Izzy back. Tessa was sure of it. The woman was crazy, and vindictive, and horrible, but she had the power to put Tessa and Izzy through another big court battle. She had the power to make their lives hell.
Again.
Tessa sighed and closed her eyes. All these years, she’d been dancing to Mary Ellen’s tune, trying to avoid just this situation. She’d inflicted limitations that were suffocating Izzy, and she’d played the good girl to the point where her only deviance was doing good deeds in Finn’s name and lying about it to the whole town. And that was just twisted.
And all that, for what? Nothing. Nothing. What she’d been trying to avoid had just slinked into her living room and all but demanded she relinquish custody of her sister.
“Well, screw the hell out of that,” she muttered, then trudged up the stairs, hoping a long shower and some fresh clothes might help her figure out the new rules of the game, because it was for damn sure things were going to change.
Immediately.
Chapter Fifteen
Finn leaned over the sage green counter at FLOWERS, ETCETERA and tapped the bell lightly twice. It was a little after eight, and the only sign the place was open was that the front door was unlocked. He sighed and leaned back against the counter, staring blankly at a table filled with violets while he waited.
He felt a wave of fatigue, and rolled his shoulders to allay it. Sleeping last night had been impossible. No matter how he tossed and turned, he could still feel Tessa’s hair soft under his fingers. Could still smell her. It was as if touching her had altered his nervous system, and now she’d always be there, a phantom under his skin. Even after giving up the fight at five in the morning, taking a shower, doing his laundry, and hiking out to Margie’s, she was still there with him.
So, does someone have to hit you over the head with a two-by-four or what?
He looked down and saw Wallace at his feet, the little furry face looking up at him, eyes deeply sarcastic and totally unimpressed with Finn. The dog had insisted on following Finn out that morning, and Finn hadn’t resisted the company, but trying to get the dog to wait outside the flower shop had been a battle of wills Finn had quickly lost.
“Dermot?”
Finn turned around to see Margie Fletcher coming into the shop through the back. She pulled off her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. Finn assumed his most charming grin.
“Morning,” he said. “Door was unlocked. I rang the bell.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stood where she was, watching him with an expression of extreme prejudice. Finn stood up straighter and let the charm fade. Obviously, Margie was part of the relatively small but justified camp of Lucy’s Lake residents who didn’t think Finn was a big hero.
Good, he thought. I can work with that.
“I hope it’s okay to have dogs in here,” Finn said, nodding down at Wallace. “He’s not mine, but he’s been kinda following me around.”
Margie’s eyebrows knit, and she slowly moved into the shop, peering around the counter to look down at Wallace. Her face instantly brightened and she bent down and took Wallace’s face in her hands, scratching behind each of his ears.
“Oh, Bitsy!” she said.
Finn quirked an eyebrow. “Bitsy?”
“Yeah,” Margie said. “I know he’s a boy, but when he first showed up begging at Vickie’s, I thought he was a she. Unfortunately, by that time, we’d already named him Bitsy.”
Finn raised an eyebrow at Wallace. Bitsy?
Wallace struggled against Margie’s enthused petting to meet Finn’s eyes. Bite me.
Finn grinned. “I guess that explains why he was at Vickie’s that morning. Didn’t look like her typical pedigree dog.”
Margie straightened, her smile fading a bit.
“I heard you saved Vickie’s,” she said, her voice tight. “Thank you.”
Finn shrugged. “Wrong place, wrong time. My specialty. Where is Vickie, anyway? I would have thought she’d come back, considering her business almost burned down.”
Margie shook her head, her expression unreadable. “I don’t think she
knows. She left for Bimini last Friday, and I don’t think her cell phone has roaming.”
Bimini, huh? This was the first he’d heard of that. “And no one knows what hotel she’s in?”
“Guess not,” she said. “She usually tells Stella those things, but...”
“I’m just kind of surprised she didn’t tell you,” Finn said. “Aren’t you two close?”
“Yes, we are,” Margie said. Finn waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached over the counter, pulled a dog biscuit out of a fishbowl, and tossed it to Wallace, who snapped it up as though he was starving, despite the fact that he’d been gorging himself on dog food since Finn brought it home the night before.
“So, is there anything I can help you with?”
“Yeah,” Finn said. “I actually came by to get some flowers.”
Margie’s smile completely disappeared, and she raised one eyebrow. “For Tessa?”
“Actually, no,” he said, leaning his hip and elbow against the counter. “But don’t feel you have to mask your disapproval on my account.”
Margie’s face softened. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I know you’ve done a lot of wonderful things for the people in this town. But ever since Karen passed...” She sighed, and her pale blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Well, I just feel very protective of those girls.”
Finn smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” He nodded toward the display cooler by the wall. “Can I get that bunch there in front?”
Margie turned and glanced at the cooler. “The Gerbera daisies?” She shot a look at Finn. “Do you know what daisies say?”
“What, the daisies are talking now, too?”
Margie’s eyebrows knit for a moment, and a small smile played on her lips. “They have meaning, yeah. Daises say, ‘My love is loyal and pure.’”
Finn pulled out his wallet. “Works for me.”
***
Ten minutes later, Finn was cutting fresh footprints through the snow of Lucy’s Lake’s only cemetery, shared by all religious factions of the town, and kept pristine by said factions on ten acres of land just south of town. He wound his way through the maze of gravestones, Wallace keeping time behind him, until he found the stone he was looking for.
The Comeback Kiss Page 15
