Sweet Baby

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Sweet Baby Page 22

by Sharon Sala


  Within the hour, a car turned in the driveway and then stopped several yards from where they were parked. Brett saw it from the window, and his first thought was that some reporter had gotten brave enough to try getting past the guard Denton Washburn had left at the gate.

  He could see the guard lean down to the car window, talking to the woman inside, but when she got out and began gesturing toward the RV, Brett went out to look for Tory, anxious that she not be harassed.

  ***

  Tory was on the far side of the house when she heard a woman calling her name. Before she saw her, her first instinct was to panic. Another reporter? Another stranger with whom she couldn’t cope?

  And then she saw the short, chubby redhead in black culottes and a black-and-white checked T-shirt standing at the end of the drive. She looked more like a referee than someone who’d come visiting.

  “Tory Lee. Tory Lee.”

  Whether it was the sound of the woman’s voice or that she was calling Tory by both of her given names, a fact very few people even knew, something clicked. She started up the driveway, forgetting to be worried or afraid.

  When Brett saw her, he yelled for her to wait, but she kept moving, as if she hadn’t even heard him.

  “What now?” he muttered, and started up the road after her.

  As she neared the end of the driveway, she kept thinking that she’d done this all before. A lizard darted across her path, and she paused in midstep, staring down at the tiny little tracks that it had left in the dust.

  “Tory Lee. Yoo-hoo. Tory Lee.”

  She looked up and started walking again. The sensation of déjà vu was intense. Somewhere before, she’d heard that same voice calling her name. Seen a lizard cross her path. Felt the heat on her face and the wind in her hair, just like this. Heard her own heartbeat and felt alive in a way that can only come from knowing your inner self.

  She drew nearer, and the chubby face wreathed in smiles hurt her heart. Dear God, but she knew that face. She’d slept with her. Laughed with her.

  “Mary Ellen?”

  “See!” the woman crowed, pushing at the guard’s arm and sailing on past. “I told you she’d know me.”

  She wrapped her arms around Tory’s waist and hugged her, all but jumping up and down with delight.

  “It is you!” Tory said, and returned the hug as fiercely as the one she had just received. Then she heard Brett calling her name and spun around.

  “It’s okay,” she called. “She’s a friend.”

  Brett stopped a distance away. “Are you going to be okay?” he yelled.

  She nodded. “We’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

  He waved and then headed back to the RV, willing to give her all the space she needed.

  “It’s okay,” Tory told the guard, who was still looking anxious. “We went to school together. Would you mind watching her car while we walk a bit?”

  “No, ma’am, I sure don’t,” he said, and tipped his hat, smiling with relief as the two women started back down the drive.

  “How did you know I was here?” Tory asked.

  Mary Ellen giggled, and it was the sweetest sound Tory had ever heard.

  “Shoot, honey. Everyone knows you’re here. You’re a celebrity, don’t you know?”

  Tory shook her head. “I’m not a celebrity, and this is a nightmare.”

  Mary Ellen’s giggle faded, and she unconsciously slipped her hand into Tory’s, just as they’d done when they were children.

  “I’m so sorry about everything,” she said. “I cried for days after they took you away. Momma and Poppa wouldn’t tell me a thing. All I knew was that you were gone.” She sighed and gave Tory a bashful glance. “You were my first best friend,” she said softly.

  Tory squeezed her hand. “And you were mine.”

  Mary Ellen smiled. “I missed you, Tory Lee.”

  Tory sighed. “I missed you, too, more than you can know.”

  They had reached the RV now. Tory tugged at Mary Ellen’s hand. “Come in and meet Brett.”

  “Is he your husband?”

  Tory shook her head. “Not yet.”

  Mary Ellen giggled. “From what I saw, I wouldn’t dither. That man is a hunk of gorgeous.”

  Tory grinned. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

  “Oh, no!” Mary Ellen shrieked. “You can’t do that! Why, what would he think?”

  Tory’s grin widened. “Why, probably that you were the most intelligent woman he’d ever met.”

  Mary Ellen giggled again. “That’s a man I’ve got to meet.”

  Brett stuck his head out the door. “Did I hear someone calling my name?”

  Tory shook her head. “You were eavesdropping, and you know it.”

  Brett grinned. “Guilty.” Then he smiled at Tory’s friend. “How about coming in for a cold drink?”

  Mary Ellen took Tory by the hand. “I have a better idea… and a confession to make,” she added. “Come to my house, instead. Some of your old friends are there, waiting to greet you.” She glanced toward the dilapidated house, well aware of why they’d come. But she wasn’t going to be swayed by her need to reconnect with an old friend. “It’s not a party or anything like that. I know this isn’t the best time in the world for you. But we all loved you dearly, Tory Lee. Let us help you through this in our way.”

  Brett stepped out of the RV. “Do you want to, sweetheart?”

  Tory looked at Brett, and then back at her friend. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” she said softly.

  “Oh, goody,” Mary Ellen said. “Come with me. I promise I’ll bring you back as soon as you’re ready.”

  A few minutes later, they were gone. And except for the guard at the end of the driveway, the old Lancaster place was, once again, on its own.

  Mary Ellen’s chatter was endless. Some things never change, Tory thought. But her heart was racing with anticipation. She kept looking in the back seat at Brett, drawing reassurance from his presence while looking forward to what lay ahead.

  When Mary Ellen began slowing down, Tory looked up in surprise. “Isn’t this where you used to live?” she asked.

  Mary Ellen’s smile widened. “I inherited the farm after Mother and Daddy passed away. David, that’s my husband, works at the feed store in town. We have three children, who by the way are at their Grandma Miller’s. We won’t be bothered by rug rats.”

  Brett laughed. He already liked this little woman, even if she didn’t know when to hush.

  “Sounds like my family,” he said. “Never a dull moment.”

  Mary Ellen nodded. “You said it.” And then she braked to a stop. “Well, we’re here. Hop out and come say hi.”

  The yard was filled with cars. Nearly a dozen, from what Tory could see. Even though she was anxious to go inside, she was shivering with nerves, and her stomach felt as if a cloud of butterflies had taken up residence. And then Brett took hold of her hand and everything settled.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.”

  He grinned. “Then ready or not, here we come.”

  Mary Ellen led the way, opening the front door and then stepping inside ahead of them.

  “We’re here,” she called, and more than a dozen people turned to look.

  Some were smiling. Some were in the act of getting up from their chairs. And some of them looked nervous, which, under the circumstances, was understandable.

  “Everyone, this is Tory’s fiancé, Brett Hooker. Tory, I know you won’t remember us all, but we have sure remembered you.”

  “I saw some of your pictures in the Sunday supplement,” one man said, and then grinned. “You’re a real good photographer.”

  Mary Ellen added her own aside. “That’s Edward Bailey. You remember him… the Halloween we were five, he put that goat in Mr. Pilzner’s car.”

  Tory grinned, not so much from what Edward Bailey had done all those years ago, but that she remembered him doing i
t.

  “We were all real sorry to hear about your mother.”

  Tory’s gaze moved to the woman who’d just offered her sympathies.

  “Thank you. I don’t remember your faces. You’re going to have to help me.”

  She smiled. “I’m Mavis Candy—use to be Ellis. My daddy ran the grocery store next to the movie theater.”

  And so it went, one after the other, the people who’d had a share of a six-year-old’s life had come to pay their respects and to say hello.

  Tory’s face mirrored her joy as they gathered around her, each offering her solace in the only way that they could… with their presence.

  Brett wanted to hug them all. They had no way of knowing how unusual it was for her to be mingling comfortably in a crowd. He’d spent four years watching her withdraw from situations exactly like this, but now, seeing her with her eyes alight and a smile on her face, was something rare.

  Mary Ellen played hostess as if she’d been born to the job. The conversation never faltered, and she’d prepared a buffet of food that seemed to have no end. Purposefully, Brett stayed on the outer rim of the group, ever watchful of Tory for signs of stress. But they didn’t come, and for that he was grateful.

  “Okay now everybody,” Mary Ellen suddenly announced. “Your bellies are full and your jaws are bound to be tired from talking. If they’re not, they should be. I know mine is. It’s getting late and Tory and Brett have a hard day ahead of them tomorrow. However…” And then she giggled, and because it was so infectious, everyone laughed with her. “However,” she repeated, “we have something special for Tory before she leaves, don’t we?”

  A chorus of yesses and you bets went around the room.

  “Okay, Tory Lee. You sit here,” Mary Ellen ordered, pointing to a recently abandoned love seat. “And you, you good-lookin’ thing. You sit right there beside her.”

  Brett grinned and did as he was told, sliding in beside Tory and then giving her a quick hug before the impromptu ceremony began.

  Tory felt as if she were flying. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d felt so accepted. She smiled at Brett and then back at the crowd, wishing she could bottle this feeling and make it last forever.

  “Now! Mavis, where did you put that package? Run get it. Hurry. I can’t wait to see Tory Lee’s face.”

  “You didn’t need to buy me anything,” Tory said. “Renewing our friendships was the best present anyone could give me.”

  “Oh, we didn’t really buy it,” Mary Ellen said. “Except for the album. Oh, now I’ve gone and given it away.” She rolled her eyes and then giggled again. “Well, that’s what you all get for telling me what it was. You know I can’t keep a secret.”

  They laughed as Mavis produced a box, which Tory proceeded to open. Her smile widened as she ran her hand over the fine leather with which the enclosed album had been bound.

  “A picture album. Considering the fact that I’m a photographer, you couldn’t have chosen a more perfect gift.”

  “Oh, silly, we didn’t get you one to fill up. This one’s already got stuff in it,” Mary Ellen cried, and then opened the cover for her, unable to wait for Tory to do it herself.

  “We figured since all your things disappeared when you were little that you wouldn’t have any of these. And you know how clannish we all are here in Calico Rock.” She looked at Brett, assuming he would need an explanation. “Family is a real big deal down here.”

  “If you don’t have any, it’s a real big deal anywhere,” Tory said.

  The room got still. Her quiet reminder as to why she’d come home was enough to settle their high spirits.

  Mary Ellen was close to tears and needed to head them off before they cut loose.

  “Well now, you’ve got us. And you’ve got that good-looking thing sitting there beside you, too, so don’t expect me to feel too sorry for you. Now, see what we made for you.”

  Tory looked and then had to blink away tears to be able to focus. It had been twenty-five years since she’d seen that face, but the moment she saw it, she remembered. It was her mother.

  “That’s your momma and daddy,” Mavis Candy said. “We got the picture from the newspaper. It’s just a xerox copy and all, but it ran in the paper when they got married. I thought you’d like to have a copy.”

  Tory traced the shapes of each of their faces, lingering longest on the tender curve of her mother’s cheek. Her heart hurt, but in a good way. When Brett’s arm slid around her shoulders, she leaned into him, needing his strength, because she was shy of her own.

  Brett pointed to the picture. “You look like your mother, but I think you have your daddy’s hair and eyes.”

  Edward Bailey spoke up. “That’s true. My momma said Danny Lancaster had the bluest eyes and the lightest blond hair you ever saw on a man. Why, she said in the summer it would bleach out so much that it almost looked white. But he wasn’t no sissy. When it came to work, he was as tough as they came. It was a real shame about him dying like he did. I bet he would have made a real good daddy.”

  And Mommy would still have been alive.

  Tory didn’t say it, but the knowledge was there. And when she looked up, she could tell they all shared her thought.

  “Remember my slumber party?” Mary Ellen asked. “Remember how Momma kept running around the house taking pictures of us with that old Brownie camera? I had copies made for you to keep. You’re even in a couple.” She pointed. “Look. There you are. You can’t miss Tory Lee and her long blond hair.”

  One after the other, Tory went through the album with each of her friends, listening as they shared the memories behind the pictures they’d donated, afraid that she was going to cry. But when Mary Ellen suddenly leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, it dawned on her that she didn’t need to maintain control. These were her friends. They would accept her no matter what. So she let go of the joy and the pain.

  Long after Mary Ellen had taken them home, Tory sat with the album in her lap, poring over the pictures. Thanks to a handful of people who’d known her when, she had recaptured a part of her life that had been lost.

  “Sweetheart, I made us some supper.”

  “But I just want to—”

  He took the album and laid it on the table. “It will be here in the morning. Why don’t you eat a bit, and then we’ll go outside and take a walk? We’ve been cooped up in here long enough.”

  She nodded.

  It was nearing sundown as Brett sat on the front doorstep, watching Tory walking about the yard. He shoved his hand through his hair, rubbing at a knot in the back of his neck. Ryan’s motor home was great, but the bed was too damned short. It would feel good to get back home and into his own king-size bed.

  He looked up, centering his focus on Tory, and then relaxing again. As long as he could see her, he didn’t worry. He glanced out toward the road. There had been a changing of the guard, but thanks to Denton Washburn, someone was still there. Just beyond the fence, three news vans had already set up shop, and he squinted, trying to read the logos. Then he whistled beneath his breath. One of those vans belonged to a cable news channel. Tory’s trouble had hit the big time.

  He thought back to the party at Mary Ellen’s and the fun that Tory’d had. Her reason for coming back here was hell, but the fact that she’d gotten to reconnect with old friends was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Unaware that she was being observed, Tory paused at the side of the house and laid the flat of her hand against the old, weathered wood. Although the house was in shade, the wood still held some of the day’s warmth. A fleck of color near the foundation caught her eye, and she knelt, poking in the dirt with her stick until she had dislodged the object she’d seen. As she looked, a spurt of excitement hit her belly-high. It was a tiny white cup from a child-size tea set. And she knew, before she picked the dirt from inside, that there would be a small pink flower in the bottom of the bowl.

  “Tory?”

  She sp
un around, the cup still clutched in her hand.

  “Did you find yourself a treasure?”

  The fact that he had not once interfered with her meandering had not been lost on her. She’d known that he would understand what she felt compelled to do. But she was also thankful that he was there for her when she was ready to share. She opened her hand.

  “Look.”

  Brett leaned closer, eyeing the tiny bit of dirt-covered china. “Was it yours?”

  Her eyes were alight. “If there’s a pink flower in the bottom, I’d definitely say yes.”

  Brett looked at her, at the hope and the expectation in her face, and wanted to hold her. Instead, he lifted the little cup from her hand and tilted it toward the fading light.

  “Want to find out?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes!”

  “Then let’s go wash it off and see what we’ve got.”

  Tory clasped his hand and off they went, her heart lighter than it had been in years. Things were happening here that she hadn’t expected. She’d been braced for despair but unprepared for the rest. With each passing hour, she became more and more aware of a settling within her, as if she’d come back into her own.

  Inside the RV, Brett held the little cup beneath the flow of water, gently rubbing at the years’ accumulation of dirt, then using a toothpick to dislodge the dirt packed inside the bowl. When the lump suddenly turned loose and fell out, Tory crowded near his elbow, anxious to see.

  He ran the cup beneath the water once more to wash off what was left of the grime, then handed it to her.

  “There you are, baby. A small piece of home.”

  She looked inside, and the tension within her began to relax. Faded to a near white, the pale pink shadow of a hand-painted rose was just visible.

  “Oh, my.”

  There was a wealth of meaning in those two little words. Brett had nothing to add but a hug. And while they stood in an embrace, sunset came, followed by a three-quarter moon night.

  ***

  The ground was covered with a new fall of snow, and more was still coming down. Outside, the wind whistled as it whipped around the eaves of the house, but inside, the old walls held the heat from the wood-burning stove just fine.

 

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