View With Your Heart: a small town romance (Heart Collection Book 5)

by L. B. Dunbar

  Gavin’s eyes widen before a slow smile curls his lips, exposing that singular dimple that used to get me every time. It’s still doing funny things to me as he beams at me from beside Gabe.

  “A movie?” Gabe adds. “I’d love to see a movie.”

  “I’m sorry, Gabe. It’s a private showing,” Gavin says, and I lift a brow. Is it?

  Henry decides to speak. “But I thought—”

  “Shush,” Jenna hisses to Henry about to explain that no showing is exclusive.

  “It’s private,” Gavin and I say in unison, and then we both laugh. We’d done that a time or two when we were young. We also did it that weekend as if time had never passed between us.

  “Where should I take you next?” he’d asked.

  “The desk,” we’d said together.

  God, I’d been so reckless that weekend, and my face heats instantaneously with the flash of memory. Gavin’s still watching me, and his smile grows bigger.

  “I’ll leave a ticket in your name at the door,” he says to me.

  “Oh, you don’t need to—” I begin but abruptly stop when Gavin tips his head at Gabe. The implication is clear. It’s either him or Gabe for the evening. I’m not certain which is the lesser of two evils.

  Once Gabe leaves without a date and a tea I’m certain he never drinks, Gavin lingers, giving me the details of where and when the film will play.

  “So, he’s not your man,” Gavin confirms with a gleam in his dark eyes.

  “What man?” Henry interjects, and I turn on him.

  “Don’t you have something to do in the back?” Henry helps prep things in the afternoons for the next morning when we bake the scones freshly every day. Henry stares at me and wondering at the directness of my tone before disappearing in the back. Jenna chuckles, giving me a knowing glance.

  I’m onto you, sister, it says, and she’s not going to play along with me and my excuses. Not with Gavin, at least.

  “We could meet for dinner beforehand.”

  “Oh, the pub in town has the best burgers,” Jenna offers as if Gavin isn’t familiar with Traverse City.

  “I’ll just meet you at the movie,” I say, not wanting to add more time to my momentary panic and weakness in decision-making.

  “It’s a film,” Gavin corrects with a smile. “And I’ll see you there then.”

  Deciding not to push me, he takes a sip of his tea. His brows lift once more. “This is good,” he states, and he doesn’t appear to be faking his approval. Gabe doesn’t even pretend to lift his cup for a drink.

  “And one final thing. I remember everything about you.” His eyes roam my body for a second, giving away all he recalls. “Tonight.”

  He tips his head to Jenna and exits. When the door closes on his back, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and collapse over the countertop.

  Jenna fans her face next to me. “Damn girl, who was that sweet sip of tea?”

  “He was once my summer love, but that was a long, long time ago.”

  “Looks like he’d like to reignite your summer lovin’,” she teases.

  “Not going to happen,” I mutter, straightening from my position and swiping a hair behind my ear. My hand rests at the side of my neck, feeling my pulse hammer.

  What are you doing, Britton?

  “There’s something familiar about him,” Jenna adds, concentrating on the front door. “Do I know him?”

  Please don’t let her think too hard, I pray.

  “He once played baseball for Oakland,” I offer, but Jenna doesn’t follow the particulars of sports. She nods as if that explains it and breaks into a rendition of “Summer Lovin’.” Thankfully, all discussion of recognition is lost.

  + + +

  At six fifty-one, I find myself pacing within a newer movie theater, a second one designed specifically to accommodate the local film festival’s ever-growing popularity. There have been so many changes in the past decades to this city on the bay, a highlight of Michigan tourism.

  I shouldn’t be here.

  What am I doing here?

  I should leave.

  “Red licorice?” The deep masculine voice startles me, and I turn to face Gavin. He’s dressed casually once again in dark dress pants and another button-down rolled to the elbows. My breath catches at the sight of him. While Gabe called Gavin a movie star, and Gavin denied it, he’s of movie star quality in his appearance with the slick hair and perfectly trimmed scruff, not to mention those star-filled eyes.

  “What are you doing out here?” His showing starts in a few minutes.

  “Checking on the popcorn supply.” He smiles before pointing at complimentary bags on the counter. “And passing out licorice but only to select viewers.” He tips the package toward me.

  “I can’t remember the last time I had Twizzlers,” I say, smiling slowly. Gavin wiggles the bag at me, but when I reach for a piece, he tugs it back.

  “You promise you’ll share something with me this time?” My eyes widen at the memory of him offering me candy when we watched that first movie, and I never shared my popcorn with him. I shared everything else that summer instead.

  “I don’t think I should accept candy from a stranger after all,” I say, reminding him of my lines—sort of.

  “I’ll share mine if you share yours.” There’s every dirty suggestion underlying his comment, and I smirk before Gavin laughs. “Okay, just take the bag. I’ve got to get backstage.”

  “What were you really doing up here?” I wonder, still confused.

  “Making sure my select customer arrived.” He winks at me. “Thanks for coming. Enjoy the show.” Leaning forward, he surprises me with a quick kiss to my cheek before stepping back and turning for the theater.

  Here’s your chance to run, my brain teases, but another part of me is very curious about Gavin’s film, so I enter the theater myself and take a seat in the middle.

  I can’t remember the last time I went out to see a movie, nor can I remember the last time I went anywhere alone. I don’t begrudge that Gee and I do a lot together. I do most things with him because I want to be involved in his life and keep a constant check on him. Through Patrick’s death and my decision to move, Gee turned a bit rebellious, and I don’t blame him. Our house wasn’t the same without Patrick, plus the memories of him sick in our bedroom were too much for me most nights. We quickly lost Leo after we moved here as well. There were a lot of transitions too close together.

  As the lights dim and Gavin’s film is introduced, I push away memories of sad times and concentrate on the production, nibbling at red licorice throughout the showing.

  It’s the story of a young man’s journey through his budding baseball career with interviews interspersed. Gavin makes appearances as the older guy on the team, offering support to the younger teammate. There’s even coverage of Gavin’s accident. He’d caught a ball near first base, but as he steps near the bag, the runner plows into him. In the tangle, the opposing team member steps on Gavin’s wrist as he goes down for the base. The slowed-down video shows Gavin’s wrist snapping in an unnatural direction. The following scenes cover Gavin’s removal from the game and a highlight of him with a cast on his arm.

  In the interview that follows, Gavin emphasizes. “In the blink of an eye, all can be lost.” He blows out a breath on the screen. “You’ve got to keep an open mind. This could all be over at any time.” The camera pans back on the highlights of Gavin’s career. Awards. Articles in frames. Pictures of him with his teammates.

  The film continues, covering more of the upcoming star’s successes, but I’m lost in my own thoughts. Gavin and I each had a dream, and in minutes, that dream was gone—not lost, just over. I tried to tell myself there was a bigger plan. I had my fifteen minutes of fame in my own right, and now I was moving forward, onward, for whatever reason.

  Could I have gone back to dancing? Seeing Gavin has me questioning some decisions, but the bottom line is I made my choices, and I’ve lived with them.r />
  Take 9

  Scene: State Theatre

  [Gavin]

  As the production ends, I hold my breath for the applause or the boos, I suppose. I’m hidden on the side of the stage, as a moderator will introduce me in a minute. In the blink of an eye, my family is standing, offering an ovation I don’t exactly deserve, but my chest swells with pride and love. I’ve been such a poor son and a shitty brother, but Ethan is at the front of the mix, clapping like a fool. Even my dad has a stunned expression on his face, not a look of disapproval but something different, something like astonishment. My mother simply beams.

  After my family, my sight seeks Britton, who stands as well. She’s looking back at me on the edge of the stage. I can’t take my eyes off her. She swipes at the corner of her eye, and I’m not certain how to read the motion. Is she crying? Does she hate it?

  Please let them be tears of joy.

  “That’s my brother,” Ethan cries out, pride in his overly loud voice.

  “Chill, E,” I mutter though he can’t hear me, and the moderator welcomes me to the center stage. In case members of the audience don’t immediately have any questions, he asks something first.

  “How did you get involved in this project?”

  “When I broke my wrist, I was already part of the film. The director wanted to add the additional angle of my injury and my age to show what can happen at any time. A career in sports can be over like that.” I snap my finger. “But let me add, I’m not that old.”

  A few chuckles smatter through the theater. Surprisingly, some super athletes are making it to their mid-thirties and almost forty in baseball. Same in football, an equally demanding sport.

  “It’s noted in the credits that you were a consulting director and a producer. Could you tell us more about that?”

  “I’ve always been driven. Do well in school. Do better in baseball. I couldn’t just sit back and let the injury beat me, although some would say I did.” I find my dad in the audience. “The project on Brant had already begun, and I wanted to be more involved. I felt like my age and experience gave me intuition and perspective on what to follow, what to ask, and how to watch Brant in his personal and professional life. The director, Joe Scanlon, took my advice and added me as a consultant because of all I offered. As for the producer, well, money talks.” I huff a laugh. “I believed in the film and wanted to see it released.”

  The moderator nods.

  “And did you always want to be in filmmaking?”

  “The honest truth is, I hadn’t ever considered it. I had a cameo role in a movie about a baseball player on the outs with his team, but other than that, I’m not an actor. However, Joe thought I had charisma before the camera and smarts behind it. I really enjoyed the process, and I’m not opposed to doing it again.”

  “Interesting. Is that a hint of more to come?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. The director and co-producer, Joe Scanlon, and I will be working together on another project starting next spring. In fact, we’re starting our own production company.”

  The moderator’s eyes widen, and I find Britton in the audience. Her blank expression does something to me. My insides flip and not in a good way.

  “We’ll be producing a film titled Under The Same Sky and following a young immigrant farmworker through the trials of seasonal farming in this country. We’ll follow our subject across the United States, working the various crops prevalent to the regions.”

  Juan Sanchez is our guy, and at seventeen, he’s been open to us documenting his journey to finish high school and earn money for college as he works his way across the country. He doesn’t know yet that we’ll be giving him a scholarship for his efforts.

  “Will you include cherry-picking?” The moderator is a local, and his excitement at the possibility shows.

  “As Michigan is the number one producer of tart cherries, we will include the process in our filming. Our crew was here earlier in July to scope out the area, but I couldn’t make it.” I look at my parents again, so they know I didn’t blow through town like I once did and ignore them. Mum coughs, but it’s not a clear-your-throat kind of cough but a loud barking noise, and my brows pinch. Dad wraps an arm around her, but she shakes her head, dismissing his concern and lifting her head to look at me.

  “Interesting subject matter. Why immigration?”

  I softly chuckle. “As a boy who grew up on a cherry orchard, we had seasonal workers. Sometimes it was college kids from the area, but other times, we had families who’d traveled the states through their agricultural seasons, and I always wondered what it’d be like to be one of those kids. I had the unfair advantage of owning the farm. Well, my dad owned it, and I was grateful to be on the owner’s side of the story.”

  My eyes land on my father. His head is bowed.

  “Let me add that I worked that farm as well, and the year I wanted to use my dad’s old truck, he made me work extra for every time I asked. There were no handouts.”

  The audience chuckles. I glance a few rows behind my parents to catch Britton’s eyes again. Every night I wanted Jack Scott’s truck, I had to justify it by working hard that day in the orchard or the accompanying factory. I woke up early to get in a run and a workout, plus batting practice, before earning my keep to get that truck at night for Britton and me.

  Britton’s holding a piece of licorice up to her lips, and the corner of mine crooks up. Tempting vixen, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me, and I lose focus for a second. I wasn’t certain she would show, especially since she was cornered, but I’m so happy she’s here. I didn’t want to believe she’d go out with Gabe Carpenter, but I also didn’t take time to ask. I figured if I pressed in front of him and he was her man, she’d tell me in no uncertain terms. Still, I’m puzzled who her man is as she hasn’t told me more.

  “Do you have any additional comments on your time with Oakland?”

  My gaze returns to my father, who holds his head up, hanging on my answer.

  “Other than it being some of the best times in my life, no.” I pause, sensing it’s not enough of an answer. “But also, I don’t think our lives need to be defined by a singular moment. It’s not that I played for them, and that was all I’d ever do. It’s not that I had an injury that ended my path. Our lives are a journey with multiple roads. You can take the path less traveled, turn back, start again, do a roundabout, or speed down the highway. It’s about choices. I played and loved it. I’m onto something new, loving it as well. As I said, I might have been older in the sport, but I’m not over. I still have a lot of life to live, and I’m looking forward to where I might go next.”

  My eyes land on Ethan as he understands me best. He struggled himself, moving from job to job, working his way through restaurants but knowing he had a dream in his head. I glance over at Jess Carter, who also had a plan for success and was derailed from it. He had to circle back, as I said, but he’s been all the happier being home again. No two people’s road will be the same, and my dad has always had a hard time accepting that the one he wanted me to keep on came to a dead end.

  The moderator takes a few questions from the audience before thanking me for my time as the film showings run on a tight schedule. I exit the stage to greet my family after a few unknown well-wishers come to shake my hand, thank me for being here, and welcome me home. A highlight of the film festival is those in the industry who are from the state of Michigan. The organizer of the event had a vision, as a Michigander himself, and he’s proud of the results for this area of the state.

  I’m trying to make my way to Britton before losing sight of her. My parents have left as Mum was coughing again like she was choking, so Dad escorted her out of the theater.

  “Gavin, come hang out with us,” Ethan says, catching me a final time before I can make it up the aisle where Britton disappeared. “It’s Thursday night, and we always meet at the Town Tavern in Elk Lake City.” I blink at him.

  “Who is ‘we’?”

&
nbsp; “I don’t think Gavin ever listens,” my sister Karyn states, shaking her head of dark, tight curls. She looks like an Irish dancer and could be a twin to our mother back when Mum was young and had hair. Talking about me in the third person reminds me of when we were younger. Karyn and I haven’t always gotten along in a typical older sister, younger brother manner, and she can be damn patronizing when she wants to be.

  “Gavin hears just fine,” I snap. “Maybe I can meet you guys there later, but if not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The next day is more movie showings, but it’s typically family day with an emphasis on kid movies. I promised I’d spend the day with the guys boating, which includes Tom, Jess, Ethan, and some of the newer guys to the ‘we’ Ethan mentioned.

  I pat Ethan on the shoulder. “Excuse me, guys.” Stepping away from him, I head up the aisle to the lobby, where I’m surprised to see Britton standing with my parents. Her hand is on my mother’s back, rubbing up and down her spine.

  “Better?” Britton asks, and my eyes seek my dad’s, who is standing in front of Mum.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, Gavin, lovie, that film was wonderful,” Mum says, her voice still rough. I look from Mum to Britton and back.

  “You okay? What’s going on here?”

  Mum dismisses me with a wave. “Something just went down the wrong pipe.”

  My eyes meet Britton’s, who gives me a single headshake like she doesn’t believe Mum any more than I do.

  “Let’s get you home,” Dad interjects. He hasn’t said a word about the film, and I’m dying to know his opinion, but I won’t ask. I can be as stubborn as him, as I learned from the master.

  “Mum. Dad. Do you remember Britton McKay?” I ask, uncertain of their memory of this girl who once made a huge impression on me and took up my summer before I left for college.

  “You own the tea shop in town, correct?” Dad questions as if clarifying the fact.