This Time Around

by Denise Hunter

  Then Luke was there, between her and the animal with the broom, sweeping it away from her.

  “Get it, Luke,” she called. “Get it out! Get it out!”

  The creature swatted at the broom with its little paws, snarling at Luke, baring its tiny fangs. To think she’d once thought raccoons cute and cuddly.

  He finally had the critter cornered. With a quick sweep of the broom he pushed it outside and slammed the door shut.

  Allie was glued to the wall as far from the door as she could get. She pressed a hand to her thudding heart. Adrenaline surged through her bloodstream. Had that really just happened?

  Luke’s gaze met hers. His eyes were wide, his shoulders heaving. The expression on his face . . . probably looked just like the one on hers.

  She recalled the way Luke had wielded that broom, like a knight wielding a sword, his feet dancing, parrying with a—raccoon.

  Allie burst out laughing. A smile cracked his face. And then he was laughing too.

  “Oh my gosh,” she squeezed out. “The sight of you!”

  “Me?” he wheezed between guffaws. “You jumped on that bed like it was home base. You do know raccoons climb trees, right?”

  “Did you see the way it came after me?”

  “Well, you did light its house on fire, so . . .”

  She could hardly talk she was laughing so hard. “I thought it was kindling.”

  “Never took you for an arsonist.”

  More laughter. The nest was currently an impressive conflagration. “Stop. Stop, I feel bad enough already.” Plus her stomach hurt from laughing.

  “Do you now? I seem to remember you cheering for its demise—something about rabies.”

  “It was like a room-sized edition of Whac-A-Mole.” That only brought more laughter.

  Allie’s gaze drifted to Walter, still lying in the corner, only deigning to raise his head through the whole ruckus. “Some guard dog you are. Seriously, where did you get him?”

  “At the pound. I wanted a laid-back dog.”

  “Mission accomplished.”

  They laughed again. Allie’s eyes burned and teared up. She wiped them. Man, it had been a long time since she’d laughed that hard. Her laughter gradually slowed, as did Luke’s.

  Allie sank onto the bed. “Jeez Louise, that was exhausting.”

  Luke gave her a playful look. “You didn’t do anything.”

  “I opened the door,” Allie said defensively, then looked at the burning nest. “At least we have a fire.”

  “There’s that.” Luke set the broom back in the corner. “I don’t suppose you packed some food. I’ve worked up an appetite.”

  As soon as he finished the sentence, an offensive smell began spreading through the shack, growing stronger by the second.

  Allie wrinkled her nose at Walter. “You are a disgusting animal.”

  The dog rolled his bulging eyes her way, heaved a sigh, then closed his eyes again.

  “Ugh!” As the smell permeated the room, she grabbed her pillow and buried her face in it. Luke’s laughter floated in the air like music, and she couldn’t stop her own from following.

  Chapter 8

  “Ho Hos? M&M’s? Twizzlers?” Luke gave Allie a wry look. They’d settled in front of the fire with a grocery sack full of food. “What are you, twelve?”

  “I only planned for snacks, not meals.”

  Since the raccoon fiasco, there was a lightness to the mood, to their exchanges. Allie seemed to have let go—at least temporarily—of The Grudge.

  He was grateful for the reprieve. He surveyed the snacks and opted for the M&M’s—at least they had peanuts.

  “I’m so hungry.” Allie bit into a Ho Ho, eyes closing as she relished the treat. She’d always had a sweet tooth.

  The rain still pounded the roof, and it had grown dark. As if by mutual silent agreement, they’d settled in for the night. It wouldn’t be safe to navigate these flooded mountain roads at night.

  Allie had changed from her wet clothes while he faced the corner and pretended not to think about what she was doing. She did the same for him—minus the pretending, he was sure. Their clothes now hung on a fishing line he’d found spooled in the corner.

  They ate in congenial silence. He wasn’t sure what Allie was thinking about, but he was afraid to ruin their truce by saying the wrong thing. Truth was, that whole raccoon debacle had made him miss the old Allie.

  He’d fallen for her so quickly. Those secret kisses they exchanged kept him warm during the lonely months at college. He thought of her constantly.

  How had it all gone so wrong? He’d lost Allie for good—not just the romantic relationship but the friendship too. He missed them both in equal portions.

  Allie’s water bottle crackled as she drank the last of it. “We should probably try to sleep so we can leave at first light.”

  “Assuming the storm is over.”

  “Right.”

  They cleaned up their mess, stowing the garbage. He took Walter for one last walk, then when he returned Allie stepped outside to brush her teeth and (he assumed) take care of personal matters.

  While she was gone he set out a water bowl for Walter, then spread his sleeping bag over the dirty mattress. After giving the corner a fresh sweep, he grabbed his duffel bag to use as a pillow and settled on the floor. The fire provided a little light, but it wouldn’t last much longer, and there was no dry wood available. Still, it shouldn’t get too chilly.

  The door squeaked on the hinges as Allie returned. She shut it and locked it behind her, then headed toward the bed. “Rain’s slowed a little.”

  “Hopefully it’ll be clear by morning.”

  “Do you think the bridge will be passable?” She stopped by the bed. “Hey . . . you should use your sleeping bag. The floor must be cold and hard.”

  “I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to sleep on that dirty mattress.”

  “You sure?”

  “It’ll be like camping.”

  Allie huffed as she settled on the bed. “Yeah, on a jail cell floor. This place gives me the creeps.”

  “At least my cell mate isn’t a murderer.”

  “And my snacks beat jail food any day.”

  They went quiet and the pattering on the tin roof blended with the snapping of the fire.

  “Well . . .” The sleeping bag rustled as Allie turned toward the wall. “Good night.”

  “Night.” Luke adjusted the duffel bag under his head and stared at the fire, already flickering low. When he closed his eyes the scene from earlier played back. The raccoon springing from the nest. Allie backpedaling so quickly she almost landed on her butt. Allie shrieking and squealing and cheering him on—from the safety of the bed, of course. Then the laughter, those half-moon eyes.

  Good to know the old Allie was still alive and well. They’d had so much fun in their childhood days. She’d never been afraid to bait hooks or climb trees or pick up daddy longlegs. She wasn’t afraid of much of anything—except dogs.

  And angry raccoons. His lips twitched as he rolled to his side. He needed some shut-eye. He tried to clear his mind and sink into oblivion, but no matter how hard he pursued sleep, it remained just out of reach. The wind blew and a distant thunder boomed.

  He rolled to his other side and thought about the cabinet orders he had lined up back home. That also failed to put him to sleep. He thought about Allie’s family. He hoped they wouldn’t mind his unexpected appearance. They had invited him a few weeks ago, and they never seemed to mind having him around. But he wasn’t family, after all.

  He thought of his mom. He talked to her every month or two when he called. She was doing all right. Still a functioning alcoholic, but Greg seemed to be treating her well. He had three grown children, and his mom seemed to have been absorbed into their family.

  A while later Luke flipped onto his back. He stared at the grate where the fire had died to orange embers, leaving the room in darkness.

  He thought again of Allie and thei
r complicated relationship. Would they find themselves on solid ground in the morning, or would she default to animosity? He hoped they could be friends again.

  It was his own fault. He’d handled their breakup so badly. He’d been young and not entirely aware of why their budding relationship—while new and wonderful—scared him so much.

  Maybe this trip could be good for them. Maybe they could finally settle the rancor between them and come out as friends.

  Only one thing stood in the way—Allie had to forgive him.

  He’d never fully explained himself. Oh, he’d tried, but now he saw his explanations for the excuses they must’ve sounded like. He regretted hurting her—and hurt her, he had. He could still remember the choked sound of her voice when she’d let him off the hook for prom.

  Yeah, he’d been a real tool.

  The bedsprings squeaked as Allie turned over. Maybe he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. Maybe it was finally time to put this all behind them.

  His heart kicked against his rib cage as he gathered his courage. “Allie?”

  There was no answer, but maybe he’d spoken too softly to hear above the patter of rain.

  “Allie? You awake?”

  The sleeping bag rustled. “Yeah.”

  “Trouble going to sleep?”

  “Little bit.”

  The wind whistled through the cabin. A log snapped. He had to get this over with. Now or never. He had to explain—he owed her that much.

  “I’m really sorry for the way I handled things between us back then.” The long silence seemed to expand the air around him. Maybe he’d just botched their truce by bringing it up.

  “It was a long time ago,” she said finally.

  “Don’t let me off the hook. I was a jerk. You meant a lot to me—I don’t think I let you know how much.” He’d fallen in love with her, but there was no need to go there now.

  * * *

  For the second time tonight adrenaline flooded through Allie’s system. Fight or flight? Either of those options sounded worlds better than facing the painful past.

  Did she really want to dig into this right now? Then again, this conversation was long overdue. He had hurt her. He had mishandled the situation. Her stomach tightened just remembering her first broken heart. Okay, her only broken heart.

  But if he’d cared about her so much . . .

  “Then why?” The words sounded weak and pathetic, wobbling between them.

  “I don’t think I even understood it at the time.” He heaved a sigh. “Allie, your family had come to mean so much to me. My mom being the way she was—I couldn’t count on her. I took care of her more than the other way around. After my dad left—your family became the family I didn’t have anymore. The family I wanted.”

  She felt a pinch in her chest. “I know that.”

  “When I saw you over Thanksgiving that year . . . I can’t even explain what happened. I saw you differently. I went back to school and thought about you constantly. Thought about how grown up you’d become and how beautiful you were and about all the boys you were dating.”

  Her lips curved at the thought of his jealousy. If only he knew none of those boys compared. “I didn’t date that many.”

  “I’d call your parents and they’d tell me you were out with some boy or another—and it drove me crazy. Then at Christmas . . .”

  “You kissed me on the deck.” The memory of it flushed heat through her body. She’d since had many kisses, of course. But that one . . . It was the one she’d measured every other kiss against. And they’d all fallen so short.

  “Those four weeks were . . . They were the best weeks of my life, Allie.”

  She shook her head, not understanding. The darkness gave her the courage to voice her feelings. “If that’s true . . . why did you break up with me, Luke?”

  “When you mentioned the prom, it scared me—doing something so public. Making a commitment that your parents knew about. I was afraid—what if something went wrong between us? You were their daughter. If I blew it . . . What if I lost them?

  “And then my mom told me she was moving to Florida and—it just really freaked me out. She wasn’t much of a parent, but she was all I had. And she was leaving. Your family was all I had left—I couldn’t lose them too.”

  Allie heard the despair in his voice. Let it settle inside her. She’d always felt so bad for him. When he came to their house because he was underfoot at home. When his mom failed to show for senior night (her parents had filled in). When his mom came to graduation drunk and sloppy, insulting her parents, whom she was clearly jealous of.

  “And so you broke up with me,” she whispered. Only he hadn’t really, had he? He’d just kind of ditched her.

  “I was afraid, and I handled it like a coward and made things even worse. I’ve always regretted that.”

  It was all making sense. Finally. She still felt for that orphaned boy, and she’d known in a vague way what her parents meant to him. He’d always worked so hard to please them, mowing their grass, picking flowers for her mom, getting their mail and watering their plants when they were away. She hadn’t thought too much about it back then, but she wondered now if he’d been trying to earn a spot in their family.

  “What about the girl?” she said into the void.

  “What girl?”

  “I ran into Jared Wallace during spring break. He told me you were hanging around with some girl at school.”

  “There was no girl, Allie.” He sounded confused but adamant. “Wait, was he talking about Sam? She was just a good friend, a study partner, but only a friend.”

  Sam. She remembered Luke mentioning the name, but she’d thought it was a boy.

  “I wanted to take you to prom, Allie. I wanted to be with you. I—”

  Had he been about to say he loved her? Probably wishful thinking. She’d been head over heels for him. Truth be told, she’d never felt as strongly for anyone else. But maybe that was just because she’d carried a torch for him for so many years.

  “I was just afraid of losing the only family I had. And in the process . . . I ended up losing you.”

  A crack splintered her heart. Not for her own pain, but for his. He had so little in the way of family, and she’d taken a bit of that from him. She’d carried this grudge like a shield for seven years. She was finally ready to lay it down.

  “I understand now, Luke. I forgive you. I’m sorry for giving you the cold shoulder all these years.”

  “Thank you.” The rain let up, the shack going quieter. “Could we . . . ? Do you think we could ever be friends again? I’ve missed you, Allie.”

  Her lips tipped up in a smile, warmth filling her insides. “Sure. I’d like that a lot.”

  Chapter 9

  “What happened? Did you wreck the car? Oh, Bill, Allie wrecked the car!”

  Allie shifted in the passenger seat, rolling her eyes at Luke. “No, Mother, I didn’t wreck the car. There was a thunderstorm in the mountains, the bridge was flooded, and then it started hailing and—”

  “Hailing!”

  “No worries, the car is fine. We had to stay overnight, but I lost signal and couldn’t text you. Everything’s fine now. The storm has passed, and we got over the bridge just fine. We’re almost out of the mountains, in fact.”

  “We?”

  “Oh . . .” She spared Luke a glance. “Yeah, I, um, invited Luke along.”

  Even though her truce with Luke was still going strong, when she pulled up to her grandparents’ place in this beautiful car, she was going to get credit for its delivery, daggonit.

  Her mother’s sigh of relief could be heard from the far side of Neptune. “Why didn’t you say so, dear? Bill, Luke is with her—we were worried all night for nothing. Allie, your father hardly slept, honey.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, but like I said, I lost signal in the mountains and we felt it best for the car if we found shelter. Everything is fine though. The car looks great. Perfect.”

  H
er gaze connected with Luke’s, and she winced, knowing the car was, in fact, a muddy mess. Well, it would look perfect once they took it through the car wash a dozen times or so.

  “We’re still about seven hours away.” It was going on nine now, and the party didn’t start until five. “We’ll make it before the party starts.”

  “Well, we’ll be outside setting up, so pull all the way around to the back. I’ll make sure your grandparents are out there. They’re going to be so surprised! Bill, put that table down! You’re going to hurt your back again!”

  Would it be awful to ask Luke to switch places once they pulled into the driveway? Maybe she could coast into the backyard—it was downhill.

  She reassured her mother some more, though it seemed unnecessary now that the responsible Luke Fletcher was along for the ride.

  Allie’s entire day’s worth of energy now spent, she said goodbye and tapped the button to disconnect. “Oh my gosh. And why is it that you persist in claiming my parents?”

  Luke gave her a sideways look. “You invited me along?”

  Allie cringed. “I invited you. Sort of.”

  From the back seat Walter yawned and set his big head back on his paws. They’d already stopped to let him out twice, and he’d filled the car with his special aroma three times.

  She texted Charlotte to check on Mary. Her friend responded that Queen Mary remained on her throne and had called for the head of a robin nesting just out of reach under the porch eaves.

  Off with her head! Allie texted. Then, because she loved her feathered friends, she added, No, really, be nice to the birdie. She has babies in the nest.

  A whine came from the back seat. Walter was now sitting up, staring out the window. Then those big eyes rolled toward her, pleading.

  “There’s a pull-off up ahead,” Luke said.

  Allie sighed. “You really should have him checked for a bladder infection.”

  The turnoff was in a beautiful valley, nestled in the hills and burgeoning with massive pine trees. Allie walked the needle-strewn path beside Luke. (Might as well stretch her legs.) He hadn’t bothered to put Walter on a leash as they were the only ones there, and Walter traveled, more or less, at the pace of a worm.