My Hope Next Door

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My Hope Next Door Page 7

by Tammy L. Gray


  “I guess I should get home. I’ll be working on the deck later if you still want to help.” He walked backward, keeping his gaze focused on her.

  “I guess it is different this time,” she said.

  “How so?”

  “Dr. Mills never knew when I used his power tools.”

  Asher’s face lit up with a smile so bright it warmed all the parts of her that had gone cold. “Not a chance. Sandpaper only.”

  “We’ll see about that. I told you. Be careful what you offer.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, then gave her a quick wave before starting the trek back to his place.

  Somehow, the whole world felt lighter as Katie walked up the steps.

  Friends with Asher Powell? Her?

  Yes, she could certainly get used to that idea.

  CHAPTER 11

  Goose bumps covered Katie’s arms as she turned the corner for the deli case. She’d managed to avoid Fairfield’s only grocery store since arriving ten days ago, but after she’d tossed out three trash bags full of expired food from her parents’ kitchen, her mom demanded she go shopping. Whatever. She was done arguing, especially since her dad was still barely talking to her.

  She kept her focus on the shelves of turkey, ham, and salami, ignoring that prickling sense that someone was watching her. She was being stupid. It was midmorning on a Thursday. Half the town was at work.

  “Excuse me,” she called to the woman working behind the meat counter. Katie wanted to move, to get in and out of the store and back to the relatively safe haven her house had become, but the girl simply pointed to the phone she was chatting on and shifted her body so all Katie could see was her back.

  Fine. She’d get prepackaged meat today.

  Turning away in frustration, she shoved her cart forward, only to have it collide with another one and elicit her worst-case scenario.

  Cooper.

  Her former boyfriend studied her with dark eyes that seemed to soak in every inch, from her still-damp hair down to the flip-flops she’d thrown on in a rush to escape her mother’s fiery words.

  Within seconds, he had navigated around their locked carts and moved right into her personal space. “You never came by.” It wasn’t a statement but an accusation.

  His scruffy chin obviously hadn’t seen a razor in a few days, but as always, his faded blue uniform lacked even a wrinkle. The memory of his meticulous ironing brought a shiver to her spine.

  “I told you I wouldn’t.” She tried unsuccessfully to pull her cart free from his grip.

  “You’ve told me a lot of things—including that you loved me.”

  She couldn’t look at him. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Not for me, Firecracker.” The warning in his voice forced Katie’s attention back to him. “I deserve more than a casual hello. I put up with it at the Stop and Go because you surprised me, but I’ve been stewing on it for over a week.”

  Her mom had been right. The confrontation in the gas station was only the beginning. She’d been lying to herself, believing that he’d let her start over.

  His hand slid up the edge of the metal cart until it landed on hers. Her fingers trembled beneath his hold. “Why are you scared of me? I’ve never laid a hand on you.”

  No, but he had a temper. She’d seen it, had felt it rumble through her body. Had experienced the rippling effects of his vicious words.

  She tugged her hand free. “I’m not scared. I’m just finished.”

  He stepped forward until her retreat pinned her up against the meat display case, his arm resting casually beside her as if he were simply perusing the selection.

  A mom with two kids who were arguing over cereal pushed past them. Cooper nodded a hello and with his free hand pulled their carts out of the aisle. He still didn’t touch her, but he was much closer than necessary. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, the telltale sign that he was fighting every instinct to lose control. She felt her courage shrink within. Cooper intimidated her. He always had, and this physical display of dominance was all too familiar.

  “May I help you?” A woman in a hairnet and red apron—not the woman who’d ignored Katie but an older, friendlier one—appeared on the other side of the meat counter.

  Cooper didn’t miss a beat. “Hey, Sally. I need a pound of turkey and some salami. Maybe just a quarter.”

  Her smile broadened. “You got it, Coop.” She busied herself with his order.

  Cooper’s demeanor morphed from flirtatious back to resolute. His hand encircled Katie’s arm and pulled her away from Sally’s eavesdropping. She went willingly, grateful for the escape, even if it was short-lived.

  They stopped near the ATM nestled back in the corner for privacy. The loudspeaker announced a sale on cookies, and Cooper shoved her arm away as if it singed him.

  His jaw was tight, and a line formed between his eyebrows. “Your dad asked me to give it some time, and out of respect for him, I waited. But I’m done. You owe me a conversation.”

  “I don’t owe you a thing. We ended it.” It was her turn to get heated. He was doing what he always did. Demanding, controlling, pushing until she exploded.

  He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “We were angry. Messed up. But we would have fixed things if you hadn’t left.”

  “There was no fixing what happened that night.”

  An immediate ripple of tension made every part of his body turn hard and furious. “You don’t get to make that call. Not when the rest of us were stuck here wondering what the hell happened to you. The rest of us didn’t get to run away.”

  Katie tried to return to her cart, but Cooper blocked her path. Her head ached and her throat cracked from all the repressed aggression.

  “I’m sorry, okay?” Let it go, please.

  “Sorry’s not good enough.”

  “Then what do you want from me?” She was going to lose it. Right there in front of a market full of witnesses. “I’m not staying, Cooper. I’m here to help my parents, and then I’m moving right back to Florida.”

  “I want a conversation.”

  “We’re having one.”

  “No, not like this.” Cooper paced back and forth. Glanced at the counter where his order waited for pickup. And finally fixated on a blue diamond painted on the floor. “Meet me tonight at The Point.”

  Her body went cold. “No.” He was trying to force her back to the past. To rip open the box she’d carefully sealed shut.

  “I never told Laila.” He looked at her, a hint of remorse slipping past the drawn eyebrows. “Not any of it.”

  Of course he hadn’t. It was his fault too. “I’m not meeting you at The Point.”

  Anything resembling concern disappeared, and his eyes went blank. A scary kind of opaque she couldn’t read. “You’ll be there, or I’m gonna start talking, and I won’t stop until this whole town knows what you did.”

  Katie stumbled back, tripping over herself. Keys slid through her fingers and clattered on the floor. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t test me, babe.”

  Silence spun out, muffling the ding of the cashiers, the wails of a hungry baby, and the slamming of Katie’s heart against her rib cage.

  He picked up her keys, dropped them into her clammy hand. “I’ll be there at seven. Waiting for you.”

  Cooper was a con artist. A master of the bluff. He wouldn’t tell. Would he?

  She couldn’t think. Breathing was all she could handle. Breathing and watching him walk away, once again, with the victory.

  CHAPTER 12

  Asher stepped out onto his back deck and studied his workmanship. The stain he’d sprayed on the railings that morning had soaked in nicely. Tomorrow he’d do one more coat and then finally place the order for the outdoor furniture set he’d had bookmarked on his computer for over a year.

  Only a hint of sadness came now when he thought of Jillian. She had helped him choose each piece. They’d daydreamed of a wedding outdoors. Ima
gined kids running along the grass in their bare feet. It was a dream he’d held on to for way too long.

  “You finished.” Katie bounced up the steps and then spun around while staring at the wood slats. “Great color choice.”

  Asher had gone with a dark mahogany stain to match the trim around the house’s windows.

  “Thanks. How about you? That dining room finally cleared?”

  “Almost.” She pulled out her phone, glanced at the screen, and slid it back into her pocket. “I have six more boxes to go through, and then I’ll have to figure out a way to organize the stuff we kept so my mom can sell it.”

  He opened up two folding chairs and dropped into one of them. Since he’d helped her move the couch, she’d come over twice, both times after her parents had gone to sleep. She’d ask to be put to work, but in the end they’d spent more time talking than being productive. Their conversations never went too deep, but what they did talk about lingered long after she’d left for the night.

  Asher stared beyond the trees. The sky had dulled into a gray blue, and soon reds and oranges would split the clouds, unencumbered by artificial lights. His favorite thing about living in the country.

  “Is your mom still badgering you about the work space?” He motioned for Katie to sit, but she paced the perimeter of the deck instead.

  He’d wanted to show Katie this beautiful phenomenon from his back porch, wanted to ask her opinion on the furniture. He’d even wanted to tell her just how much her friendship mattered. But something stopped him. Tonight felt different. Her entire countenance was off.

  “You okay?”

  She checked her phone again. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I was just supposed to meet someone and I didn’t go.” She strolled over to him and sat as if she was forcing herself to. Her knee bounced and her heel tapped the metal leg of the chair.

  “Why didn’t you go?” He didn’t know if that was crossing some imaginary line they’d drawn, but he pressed anyway.

  Katie shot to her feet and found a stretch of woodwork to admire. “I didn’t want to.”

  “That’s a fair reason, I guess. Who were you supposed to meet?”

  She glanced at him but didn’t answer his question. “Why did you come back to Fairfield? You got out. You went off to college. Nobody ever comes back here after they go away to school.”

  Asher rose to his feet. He hated sitting while she stood. He hated everything about their interaction tonight. She was edgy and distracted. “I grew up here. I wanted my kids to grow up here.” He crossed the deck, leaned a hip against the rail, and studied her. It wasn’t just the scattered thoughts or skittishness. She looked lost, defeated, tired. He should comfort her, wrap her up and chase the sadness away, but that wasn’t their relationship. So he just stood there, next to her, hoping his proximity was enough. “What happened today?”

  She hung her head. “I swore I’d never come back here.”

  “Famous last words. Seems like God always changes the game when we do that.”

  She covered her face with both hands. “I can’t do this. I can’t be different and be in this town. There are too many ghosts. Too many memories. Too many people I’ve hurt.”

  The earlier pain in his chest returned. Two years ago he wouldn’t have understood, but now he did. The church, Jillian, his own failures. It had all ripped apart the fabric of his plan. “I wish I could offer you some advice, but I don’t have any.”

  Katie lowered her hands. “You say that like you’ve been there.”

  “I’m living it.” He scanned the yard and the thick surrounding woods, not offering more. He wasn’t sure he was ready to blur the lines around . . . well, whatever they were doing. But, he also refused to pretend anymore. A year with Jillian had cured him of that particular ailment.

  The first hint of pink shot out in rays from the thinning clouds.

  Katie didn’t pry, like he had. She just watched the sun dip lower in the sky. When the ball of orange had disappeared beyond the horizon, she pointed to one of the fence posts.

  “Is this your next project?”

  He sensed disappointment behind her question. “Nah. I’m gonna wait. I still have to build some benches and the countertops around my grill. I want the outdoor kitchen done before we start hitting three digits.”

  Katie pushed off from the railing and walked toward the side of the deck where the kitchen equipment and countertop would go. He’d built out areas for the mini fridge, a stainless sink, and the industrial-sized grill he planned to install. Right now, though, the wood framing had more holes than appliances.

  “Where did you learn how to build this stuff? Your dad?”

  Asher’s snort made him feel a little guilty. His father really did try. “No, my dad should never be given a power tool. See those three posts over there?” He pointed to the area his father had helped with. The posts all leaned several degrees to the left, and while it wouldn’t ruin the fence line, it would forever bug him. “He was supposed to use a level after pouring the concrete. He eyeballed it instead. My dad is gifted with big-picture vision, but the minute details? Well, they tend to annoy him.”

  Katie grinned and tilted her head to study the posts. Even in shorts, a faded T-shirt, and hair that encircled her head like a mane, she had a presence. An aura, almost, that in one sense screamed back off and in another begged to be rescued.

  “It’s still weird for me to think of Pastor Powell as having flaws. My whole life he’s been this beacon for goodness. Even people who hate religion seem to respect your dad.”

  He cleared his throat. Her comment had slipped under his skin, even though he doubted that was her intention. “There are no perfect people, Katie. Just some who try harder than others to do the right thing.”

  She circled back to him and stopped a foot away. “And what is ‘the right thing’?” She made furious quotation marks in the air, her hands trembling.

  “What do you mean?”

  Her entire demeanor had changed. Or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe all that pacing and fidgeting had simply distracted him from the blaze of exasperation in her eyes.

  “How does one define ‘right’ when everyone is raised with a different standard? ’Cause I’m trying to do the right thing. And yet I keep hitting this wall. So maybe I don’t know what the right thing is. Maybe because I didn’t get the memo early, like you, I’m doomed. Trapped by a lifetime of making choices I can’t take back.”

  The accusation filled the void between them, heightening his senses, and wrapped chains of defensiveness around their standoff. This was the battle he’d always fought. This idea that being a pastor’s kid made him immune to sin.

  He laid hands on her shoulders and resisted the urge to shake her. “You’re not being fair. I struggle just like you do. I face the worst parts of myself every day.” His voice felt full of gravel, and a rising ache brought with it every failure. “Growing up in church doesn’t give me a magic cloak that protects me from mistakes. I make them all the time.”

  Katie blinked as if he had pulled her out of a haze, then returned her focus to the west, where the sun had long ago disappeared. A break from the tension. Or maybe just from him.

  He dropped his hands and rubbed one over his face, wishing the motion would ease his frustration. If this was where a friendship with her would take him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Despite everything, all they’d shared, she still saw him as a stereotype.

  “We may be from different worlds, Katie, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have things I wish I could take back. It doesn’t mean I’m without my own share of demons.”

  Her head dropped and her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you. I’m just so tired. I’m so incredibly tired, I don’t even know what it feels like not to want to run away.”

  He thought of the months he’d spent hiding. Spent licking the wounds inflicted by people he’d trusted. But none of it had helped; it just made returning so much harder.

  H
e backed away from her, feeling an alarming urge to pull her into his arms. He wanted her to understand, to know that sometimes life is a hard-fought battle, no matter what weapons you’ve been given. “A little over ten months ago, my life shattered. And even with my faith and my family supporting me, I haven’t been able to get past the hurt. Sometimes it’s worse when you know what to do. When you know that you have all the power inside you to experience peace, and yet still feel nothing but shame.”

  “But what if you didn’t feel anything at all? Wouldn’t that be better? What if you could simply pack away the past and focus only on what’s ahead?” Her wistful eyes seemed to beg for a yes.

  But he wouldn’t lie to her. “Nobody can do that long term.”

  “I can.” The words seemed to drop on the ground in front of them, and she watched them as if they’d exposed her soul. “I have to.”

  “Do you?”

  She finally stopped staring at those words, but even when she looked at him, he couldn’t find the woman he knew in that face. She’d retreated, closed herself off.

  Asher dared to touch her, just a slight brush of his fingertips against her skin. “I know you think hiding is your best option. But trust me, you have to feel something in order to heal. Ignoring pain only makes it worse.”

  CHAPTER 13

  I’m not getting rid of any of those, so just stop pushing.”

  Katie rubbed her throbbing head. “Mom, you have six more boxes of costume jewelry in my room. I’d like to actually unpack my duffel bag at some point.” Right now, she couldn’t even get to the dresser to start cleaning it out.

  “I paid good money for this stuff.”

  “And you’ll never make any of it back until I can sort through it and find what’s valuable.” They sat on the porch despite the hot breeze. Katie had carried out a couple of dining chairs, making sure to bring one with armrests for her mother to lower herself into. There was a ceiling fan erratically spinning from the gable, and outdoor furniture pushed off to their left, but the aluminum chairs had long ago been rendered useless by flowerpots, piles of water hoses, and bags of seed and soil that were leaking out of their containers and onto the cushions and concrete.

 

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