Fixer-Upper (Spinning Hills Romance 3)

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Fixer-Upper (Spinning Hills Romance 3) Page 25

by Ines Saint


  He did his best to keep calm, knowing the bus would stop or turn off at an exit ramp if there was a real emergency. Minutes passed, the bus kept rolling, and kids began filing back into their seats. Johnny relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, but he remained vigilant.

  Finally, Amy called him back and said she was worried because Marissa had retched minutes after receiving a phone call, but that Marissa wouldn’t share what had made her so upset. She was trying to cover it up now, but Amy knew something was up. The only thing Marissa would say was that nothing truly bad had happened.

  Johnny clenched his jaw, wishing they were closer to their destination. Would Marissa talk to him? What news could Marissa have gotten to make her feel physically sick? The miles stretched out before him.

  Hours later, Marissa hopped off the bus, breathed in the fresh, fragrant mountain air, stretched, and looked around. The fair was being held in an expansive, modern campground at the foot of the Rockies, and it was one of the most breathtaking scenes she’d ever seen. Snow-peaked mountains provided the backdrop to gigantic evergreens, a crystalline lake, deep green foliage, and a huge stage, where she guessed the kids would perform.

  Despite her heavy heart, she felt true happiness when she saw the looks on the kids’ faces. Everywhere they looked, there was a treat. An ice cream and coffee stand, an outdoor movie theater, a lake where kids were swimming, hayrides, hiking trails, and even a petting zoo.

  Large cabins lined the perimeter of the grounds, and both open-air and screened-in gazebos dotted the middle, along with picnic tables and benches. Marissa was relieved to see plenty of adults wearing bright orange T-shirts identifying them as guides.

  The kids walked around the parking area, stretching their legs and talking excitedly, as Amy went to get them registered. Johnny came up to her, but she moved away. There were too many feelings ripping at her insides. She felt an overwhelming need to talk to him, but she had no idea where to start, and it wasn’t the right time.

  Brian was the person she needed to talk to the most. As soon as the kids were settled for the night, she’d make the call.

  Chapter 18

  It was ten at night. Marissa was sitting on a lonely bench behind the girls’ cabin. Brian’s phone was ringing. Marissa’s stomach was churning. She was mad. She was sad. There hadn’t been time to plan what she would say, but it didn’t matter. If the accusations she’d been holding in didn’t find an outlet soon, she’d burst.

  “Hey, babe,” he answered, his voice soft and loving. It made her despair even more.

  “How could you?” she choked out.

  “What? What are you talking about?” he asked, sounding alert and alarmed.

  “It was you. Don’t even try to deny it. Don’t pretend. I know it was you.”

  A short, heavy sigh sounded over the receiver. “You’re speaking in riddles. Can you just tell me what you’re talking about?”

  “If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then you’re an even bigger jerk than I could have ever imagined. How many things have you done that would make me this angry? What else don’t I know about?” She fought to keep her voice lowered to an angry whisper.

  “There’s nothing else!”

  Finally, they were getting somewhere. Finally, she could send him to hell, with no remorse and no regrets. Except she knew that wasn’t true. Despite what he’d done, her insides were twisted into knots over the thought of causing him pain. It was bound to happen, but not like this, not with this much hurt and anger on her side. “Why? Why did you do it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You wouldn’t have understood. You’ll never understand. But that’s my job, Marissa. To make sure my clients don’t mess up.”

  “You didn’t even see fit to tell me Marconi and McNeely were your clients! The moment I opened my mouth and said they’d likely be funding the trip, you should’ve told me your doubts. Instead, you planned and plotted behind my back, and nearly sabotaged everything so many people had worked so hard for.” Marissa shot up off the bench and began pacing. Tears streamed down her face.

  “I know, I know. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry from the start! But I didn’t know how to tell you because I knew you wouldn’t understand. You don’t see the world the way other people see it. You say politics stays outside the door at school, but it doesn’t work that way in the business world. You don’t know the immigration status of half those kids, Marissa, but you know it’s questionable. If word got out that a major pharmaceutical company was funding a trip for a bunch of kids who are here illegally, a major public relations storm would ensue. It’s my job to protect them against that.”

  “A ‘bunch of kids’? Is that how you see them? I don’t know their legal status, Brian, and neither do you! It’s beside the point here. Marconi and McNeely were once immigrants themselves. That’s why they started a fund to promote cultural awareness. But you managed to convince some CEO—who likely has nothing to do with the company’s founders—that making these kids’ dreams come true would make the company look bad.”

  “It could! It’s your job to teach them, Marissa. I get that, and I don’t care about their status myself. But it’s my job to protect my clients from public relations disasters. Why can’t you get that?”

  The shock of the betrayal gutted her all over again. It felt as if she’d never get over it. “How could I, when you never said a thing? You listened to me talk about their anticipation and excitement, knowing they might not get to go, but you didn’t even give me fair warning. Who does that?” she demanded.

  “I knew they’d get to go. I knew you and Johnny would find a way, and if you didn’t, I was going to make the donation myself.”

  Marissa felt her outrage skyrocket. How could he? How could he mock Johnny for not thinking things through, and then count on him to help her save the day? How could he let Johnny foot the bill with a clear conscience, and then not even help out at Johnny’s house, or donate anything at all himself?

  But she didn’t have to ask; she knew the answer. He didn’t have a clear conscience, but he was too immature to realize it. It was why he’d been so understanding about every little thing the last few weeks, and why he’d been so mad at Johnny. Guilt. “Forget it. I don’t want to hear anything else. We’re over. Cancel the engagement party, cancel the house or lease it yourself, and cancel everything we’d planned with the wedding coordinator I never wanted. Cancel it all.”

  “Calm down. That doesn’t make sense. Wait till you get back and we’ve talked things through.”

  “No! I will not talk things through. It’s over. It has been for a while and we both knew it. But we wouldn’t have survived this anyway. I can’t believe you can’t see that. Cancel all the immediate things, Brian. I’m over a thousand miles away and you owe me that much.”

  “Fine. But when you get back, we need to talk. You can’t just end things over the phone. We’re not twelve.”

  “Fine,” Marissa ground out. She pressed the end button and threw her phone to the ground before she was tempted to waste her breath saying anything else. She sat down, head in her hands, and began to sob.

  Not long after, the sound of footsteps and familiar voices mumbling, whispering, and muttering surrounded her. Marissa didn’t look up. It was clear they’d heard. Had she been yelling? She couldn’t remember. She shook her head and let the sound of her kids’ much-improved English wash over her and soothe her disturbed soul. When they began taking turns hugging her, she looked up so they could see her watery smile and know she’d be okay, as she hugged them back.

  “I’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

  Mrs. Simmons shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize to us for.”

  Johnny stayed back and let the kids console Marissa. Her distressed voice had carried to the cabin, though what she was saying hadn’t been clear. Johnny had run out to make sure she was okay, and there was nothing he could do to keep the boys inside once they feared Marissa was in some sort of tr
ouble. They’d rounded the corner in time to hear what Brian had done, and Marissa’s shock over it. After that, Johnny herded them back enough so they couldn’t hear what else was said. Marissa deserved and needed privacy. But the moment she’d gone silent, the kids had rushed back out.

  He met Amy’s eyes and guessed something similar had happened at their cabin.

  Johnny couldn’t remember ever feeling as livid as he felt in that moment in his entire life. His anger over the way his mom treated Dan was close, but it was always intermingled with despair and disappointment, and his own need to make things better for Dan. But what he was feeling now was pure, untainted rage. He could feel it burn through his veins.

  If Brian was in front of him at that moment, he’d beat him to a pulp, his degree in school psychology be damned. Right now, he wanted to punch the cabin wall, but he wouldn’t do that in front of the kids. For some crazy reason, he was also mad at Marty, for not seeing Brian for who he was, and for not warning Marissa away from him. Self-preservation, Marty had called it. Johnny kicked at the ground.

  A few of the kids started expressing how they felt about Brian in colorful terms, but Marissa promptly intervened. “Please, don’t. It only makes me feel worse. I wish you hadn’t heard what you heard. I should’ve controlled my voice, or at least chosen another spot. But don’t hate Brian. Good people sometimes get mixed up and do bad things. I think you all know that. It doesn’t excuse it, and we’re all rightfully angry, but it won’t do any of us any good to become insulting.”

  Or to wish we could beat them to a pulp. Johnny sighed. She was such a teacher. But she was right. “And hate can be like a poison,” Johnny added, knowing they probably all hated Brian at the moment. “Don’t let someone else’s actions poison you, okay? Look around you. We’re here. And tomorrow, you get to show everyone what you’ve got.”

  “That your pep talk?” Javier grinned.

  Johnny cut him a look. “What, it’s not good enough for you?”

  “Kinda lame,” Isaac agreed.

  The kids laughed, and a ghost of a smile tugged at Marissa’s lips.

  Isaac stood on a bench. “Tomorrow we’ll eat ice cream for breakfast, do the hayride thing, dance our butts off, and swim in the lake,” he commanded, punching his fist in the air.

  A chorus of enthusiastic agreements rent the air, and Mrs. Simmons and Amy shushed them. “Not if we get kicked out. Now, let’s go back to our cabins and get some sleep.”

  Veronica turned to Marissa. “Is Mr. Brian on Facebook or Twitter?” she asked, a gleam in her eye.

  “No!” both Marissa and Johnny shouted.

  “Please, everyone, not a word of this on the Internet.”

  A less-enthusiastic chorus of okays and all rights followed, as the kids reluctantly shuffled back to their cabins.

  Javier’s speech proved to be prophetic. The kids began the next day with a bang and they never slowed down. Between organized activities, all ten finalists performed their plays and musicals, and Marissa and Amy were able to fully appreciate for the first time just how much their kids had learned and grown. They knew they were biased, but it was impossible not to feel their kids were hands down the best.

  Marissa, Johnny, and Amy had encouraged even the shiest kids to own their parts and command the stage, and it had been as good for them as it had been for the kids who wanted the spotlight on them. There was a lesson there.

  Keeping up with the kids the rest of the day was enough to drive any logical thought out of a normal person’s head, but Marissa wasn’t feeling normal. She’d been exerting mind-over-heart control for too long. The moment she allowed her thoughts and feelings free rein, she felt more present, more alive, and more afraid than she’d felt in a long time.

  Thinking and feeling freely was scary in many ways, but watching the kids run joyful and free helped. Right now, they were having a splash war in the lake with kids from other schools.

  One thing had become as clear as the lake reflecting the bright sun above. She loved Johnny, loved him like she’d never loved or would love anyone ever. Nothing anyone said would matter. If he still cared for her, she was his, forever.

  They would care enough for one another to keep themselves from doing anything too crazy. That’s what she hadn’t understood until that past weekend. That the tenderhearted nuttiness that made everyone else worry about them would be the very thing that would help them keep one another safe.

  Brian would be hurt. It pained her. She felt a deep pang in her chest every time she thought of him. He’d been unimaginably selfish, but she’d been equally blind. Maybe a veil would lift for him, too. But it was time for her to take center stage in her own life for a little while. It wouldn’t be easy.

  Chapter 19

  Johnny drove behind the bus, feeling as if time had stopped and only he, the road, and the one thought he was capable of existed. Marissa’s words to Brian kept playing in his head, over and over again. He kept making a conscious effort to make them stop, but as soon as he quit monitoring his thoughts, they’d start up again. Not even playing other songs on his phone or the radio helped.

  His problem was that the more he thought about it, the more pissed off he became on behalf of the kids. Under normal circumstances, he’d have it out with the person who almost destroyed what the kids had worked so hard for. But these weren’t normal circumstances. It felt like it was Marissa’s battle to fight, and he wasn’t even sure what she’d do when the dust settled.

  He was so focused on containing his feelings that he didn’t see a large, jagged rock near the median until it was too late to swerve. He hit the rock with his left front wheel, feeling only a slight bump. Seconds later, it was clear he’d blown out the tire. With only four hours to go before they got home, too.

  Johnny moved to the side of the road and hit his head against the steering wheel before searching for his phone to call Amy and tell her he had to change a tire. Amy insisted on stopping, but Johnny told her the last thing the kids needed was a delay. They’d had a blast, but it was their second day on the road, and some of them were tired and others were just strung out. They’d had enough togetherness, and they needed to get home. And stopping a bus full of kids on a busy highway was dangerous.

  Johnny hopped down to inspect the damage. He was squatting in front of the busted tire when the sound of feet crunching on gravel made him look up. Marissa was jogging toward him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “The kids didn’t want to leave you behind alone,” she explained when she reached him. “We all agreed I was the most logical choice to stay.”

  Johnny gave his head a slight shake. He didn’t want to know the logic the matchmaking kids had used to make the choice.

  “It’s safer for you in the truck,” he said, as a car zipped by at a dangerously high speed. “I’ll go look for the spare and a jack.”

  “That’s just it. There’s no spare or jack,” she said. “They provide free roadside assistance instead. I’ll make the call.”

  “What? Why?” Johnny asked, highly offended.

  “Something about liability and consumers not properly torquing lug nuts. But their average response time is less than an hour.”

  Johnny tried not smile as he imagined Marissa grilling a weary rental attendant, making sure she was addressing all possible obstacles. “Well, their rental agreement is stupid. I could change a tire on a semi if I had to.”

  Marissa gave him a playful look. “They didn’t ask how much you could bench-press when we signed. They only asked to see a copy of your license.”

  “Well, that’s too bad. I’d have us out of here in a jiff. And now we have to wait.”

  “It’ll be less than an hour.”

  Marissa made the call, and they climbed in and shut their respective doors to the cab.

  “What do we do to pass the time?” she asked.

  Her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her skin . . . all of her looked soft and touchable. Johnny wished they ha
d bucket seats, and not the expansive bench seats that gave him all sorts of ideas. With effort, he tore his gaze away and turned to stare out the front window.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I—I have something to say, but I don’t know where to start.”

  Johnny turned to study her. “I told you before—you can tell me anything. Always.”

  He watched her throat work before she spoke. “It’s about something I’ve known for some time now.” She disconnected her gaze from his and looked down at her hands. “But it’s all so complicated . . . I don’t even know if you still feel the same way about me.”

  “What are you trying to say, Marissa?” he asked.

  “I love you.”

  Johnny’s heart leapt in his chest, but he remained frozen in his seat, knowing it was all wrong. Finally, he sighed. “No. You don’t. You’re acting out, to hurt Brian.”

  Marissa’s eyes took on a wild look. “No! I wouldn’t do that to you. Or to him! You know that. You know me.”

  Johnny’s breathing became strangled and painful. God, how he wanted to believe her. But it made no sense. “You broke up with Brian the day before yesterday. You don’t just fall out of love with one person, and then jump into it with another in less than forty-eight hours, Marissa. You’re hurt. I’m here and I’m convenient. That’s all it is.”

  A breeze blew through the open window and rustled Marissa’s hair and her billowy shirt, and it made the moment seem unreal, as if she’d blow away herself at any moment. “You don’t understand—”

  “I do understand. Because I do love you and I know now how deeply it cuts and how crazy it can make you. You’re acting out. I won’t take advantage of that. The last thing I want is to be your rebound.”

  Marissa scooted forward until her knee was hitting his thigh. “Look at me. Please,” she said. Johnny held his breath and looked at her. Her dark eyes searched his and implored him to listen, too. “The day before the wedding, you put a crown of flowers on my head, and you said the nicest words anyone has ever said to me, and I felt understood, and suddenly, that felt right, in a purer way. It was a simple truth, that you knew me and accepted me and understood me. It wasn’t something I’d decided or had to force. The next day, at the wedding, Brian began to feel wrong. I didn’t get it. I was mad at myself over it, and mad at you for confusing me. I was forcing myself to take control again, but I couldn’t manage it, and I drank more than I usually do so I wouldn’t have to think.”

 

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