by Liz Talley
“I’ll see what I can do,” Sunny said, nixing another cup of coffee too. She didn’t want to feel any more jittery than she already did. Last night she’d dreamed of Henry—jumbled dreams of kisses, a football game, and then losing her car keys. She’d awoken anxious and tired. The bags under her eyes were a testament to her disturbing lack of sleep.
She stepped onto the porch and sank into the plastic chair the sitter used when she needed to get away from Betty. Around her, the neighborhood moved. Mrs. Warner swept her driveway, a dog that seemed to have been abandoned nosed through a pile of leaves, and rhythmic clanks came from the neighborhood auto shop. Grover’s Park was a tattered blue-collar hood with scraggly weed-choked cracks and dirt patches in the front yards, but it had been her home. She understood the people who lived here. They were hard, private, and fiercely loyal to one another. Sometimes honest, sometimes kind, but always ready to protect their own.
Henry’s fancy truck glided down the street and pulled into her driveway.
She didn’t move because she was afraid to climb into his truck, scared of herself and of what opening the door to Henry in any way might do to her. She couldn’t handle too many more sleepless nights.
“Hey,” Henry said, sliding down the window. She was almost certain he’d debated whether he should get out and come to the porch like the polite Southern gentleman he’d been raised to be or stay inside and treat this casually. “You ready?”
Sunny rose, opened the front door of the house, and grabbed her purse from the faded tweed chair. “I’m going, Mama. Vienna will be here soon.”
Her mother grunted a response.
Sunny walked down the steps and rounded the truck. When she opened the door, she was hit by the warmth and the smell of Henry—cozy flannel with a hint of citrus and nutmeg.
“Good morning,” he said, indicating the disposable cup in the holder. “I brought you some coffee.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, eyeing the seductive waft of steam rising from the small opening in the lid.
“I know, but I fixed myself some so it seemed the polite thing to do.”
She shrugged a shoulder and lifted the coffee. Special brew, dark, rich roast with cream and sugar. Just the way she used liked it. “Thank you.”
He backed out of the driveway. “So to the school board first?”
“Yes. You don’t have to wait for me, you know. I can find a ride if I need to.” She could probably call her aunt Ruby Jean, but her aunt worked for an accounting firm and didn’t like to ask for time off. “Stickler” was her aunt’s middle name.
“No problem. I have to make some calls anyway. I’ll use my truck as my office. Well, hell, it is my office most days.”
“So you’re working for your dad, huh?” He’d always said he’d never work for his father. Henry had wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m doing,” he said, his voice flat.
“You don’t like it?”
“We’ve expanded our operations all over the state, so I travel a lot. We built a stadium down in Hattiesburg last year and several big projects in Jackson. That’s where the kids live, but Morning Glory is where we have our main office.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He glanced sharply at her. “I like it fine. What about you?”
“I don’t have a job. That’s why you’re driving me to the school board,” she said, taking another sip of the coffee. Good stuff, that coffee.
“I meant what did you do back in… North Carolina, was it?”
“Alan and I lived all over. Once I worked as a receptionist for a dermatologist, once as a waitress at another duty station. Then I got my degree in business administration from a two-year college and worked as an accounts manager for a large advertising and marketing firm. They were just jobs. That’s it.”
“But you were good at them,” he said, a smile tilting the corner of his lips.
They’d not been together in the same space for over fifteen years, but nobody knew her like Henry Todd Delmar. What she did, she did well. If she took on a project, consider it successful because she would work sun up to sun down to make sure it was. “Pretty much.”
Henry snorted. “You always were something else.”
Sunny jerked her gaze away, refusing to be moved by his warmth. This man had betrayed her, hurt her, driven her from Morning Glory. Everything she’d believed to be true had shattered that afternoon in her bedroom. Melodramatic? Maybe. But that didn’t make it any less true. He’d crushed her, and she needed to hold on to that hurt because it was her only protection against the power of what she’d once felt for him.
Her coldness must have worked because Henry turned up the radio. Nirvana pulsed from the speakers, somehow suiting the mood. Sunny sipped her coffee and stared out as Morning Glory flashed by. Eventually they arrived at the cinder block building that looked, well, pretty depressing. So many gorgeous, historic buildings in Morning Glory, yet the place that should inspire learning and higher things looked like a prison.
Henry parked in the front. “I’ll wait here.”
“Thanks,” she said, unclicking her seat belt, picking up her purse with the documents she needed, and sliding to the pavement. “Henry?”
His gaze met hers.
“Thanks for the ride.” She walked toward the glass front entrance, her heart beating erratically. She wasn’t certain if it was because she was nervous about the application or because she’d sat beside Henry in his truck, the same way she had too many times to count.
The receptionist wore a little headset and pressed buttons. She glanced up at Sunny and gave her brusque directions to Personnel. “Sorry. Had two buses break down this morning. Parents calling out the wazoo.”
Sunny smiled and waved before moving down the gleaming hallway toward the office. She pushed through the glass door and nearly mowed down her former principal, Mr. Mel Marler.
“Hello, Mr. Marler,” Sunny said to the bulldog man with square glasses, an underbite, and a heart as big as Texas.
“Well, I’ll be danged. If it isn’t Sunny Voorhees herself. What did you do to your hair?”
Sunny fingered the ends. “I went red.”
“I don’t care for it myself,” he said.
“Well, don’t hold back or anything,” she said with a laugh.
He grinned. “Guess I forget my manners sometimes. My mama would have tanned my backside if she’d heard that. It’s good to see you. You back for a visit?”
“Something like that. Eden’s in New Orleans taking some classes, so I’m staying with Mama for a while.”
“I heard about your husband. I’m sorry about that, Sunny.”
Sunny swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. She longed to be past mourning, but every now and then, the loss struck her. Alan hadn’t been the love of her life, but she’d cared about him when she wasn’t pissed at him. “I am too. He was too young to die.”
“He was,” Mr. Marler said. “What are you doing here at the school board?”
“I’m applying for a substitute job at the high school. The attendance clerk was injured, and I guess Ms. McConnell over at the school heard I was looking for something.”
“Yeah, I heard. Poor Melanie’s got a tough road ahead.” Mr. Marler closed the door and turned around. “Let me put in a word with Jim.”
“You work here now?”
“Yes. Director of communications and curriculum. No kids to hassle or herd. Instead I get to work with the real morons. No offense, Sharon,” he said to the woman behind the long counter.
“As if anyone would believe your old ass,” the woman muttered, unfolding the readers hanging on a chain around her neck and plunking them down on her thin nose. “Baby, I’m going to need you to fill all this out. We’re going to get your fingerprints right here. No ink, no hauling your cookies down to the sheriff’s office. We’re uptown around here now.”
“She really loves me,” Mr. Marler
called out before disappearing into the inner sanctum of the offices. Sunny smiled at Sharon’s eye-roll and sat down with the clipboard of copious paperwork.
Twenty minutes and two hand cramps later, she made it back to meet with the head of Personnel. Mr. Marler stood in his office, talking about coaching changes in the SEC. When Sunny came in, he winked at her and shot Jim a look. “Take care of this one. She’s special.”
Sunny hadn’t felt special in a long time. Why the words warmed her, she didn’t know. But it felt good remembering those days in high school when she’d been something more than average. “Thank you, Mr. Marler.”
“You betcha,” he said with a smile.
After twenty more minutes, Sunny emerged from the building, blinking at the bright sunlight. She found Henry still parked in the front, talking on the phone.
“How did it go?” he asked after clicking a button on his steering wheel.
“I have a job through May,” she said climbing into the cab. “Doesn’t pay as much as I would like, but it will help me finish remodeling the house so we can get it on the market.”
“You’re selling the house?”
“If I can talk Betty into it. I’m not staying in Morning Glory, and I would like to get Mama into an assisted living community. It would be better for her.”
“You’re leaving?” He sounded surprised. Did he think she would move in with her mother and live in Grover’s Park for the rest of her life? A block of ice was warmer than that woman.
“Why would I stay?” she asked, trying not to sound incredulous. For some people Morning Glory was a great place to live and raise a family, but Sunny had no reason to stay. She didn’t have a family outside of her mama and Aunt Ruby Jean, and the town was too full of memories. That was why she’d never visited before. Every corner hid a memory for her, and she’d always been determined to forget those memories. She slept better with them tucked away.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said putting the truck in Reverse.
“Why did you come back?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It’s home, I guess.”
That had always been their plan—go off and figure out life, then come back to Morning Glory and live it. They’d agreed upon the number of children they’d have (three), what kind of bed they’d buy (a sleigh bed), and where they’d build their house (right off Frasier’s Forty). They’d name their first son Andrew, their daughter Willow. They’d drink french vanilla coffee every morning and never go to bed mad.
They had been idiots.
“Yeah, you always wanted to live here,” she said, clicking her belt into place.
“So did you.”
“I was a dumb ass.” She tried to make it sound light, but it came out bitter.
“I never thought so.” He pulled out of the lot and headed south toward the high school.
Sunny could have argued with him, but she didn’t. Why bother? They were two different people now who were on two different paths. What she did or didn’t do wasn’t his business.
Henry cut through a subdivision that looked to be new, and Sunny marveled at the cookie-cutter houses with the stacked stone and cedar posts. They looked expensive but common. Sort of sad in a way. Henry pulled out onto the county highway, and just as he went around Preacher’s Bend, he stomped on his brakes, sending them careening toward the deep ditch.
“Christ Almighty,” he said, skidding to a stop. One wheel of the truck dangled over the ditch. He shifted into Reverse and backed up, rocking to a stop.
Sunny tugged the seat belt nearly choking her. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. “What was it?”
“I don’t know—a raccoon or something. I think I missed it.”
Henry slammed the truck into Park and slung open his door. “Where did it go? I don’t see anything.”
Sunny carefully opened her door, scared to see if Henry had indeed dispatched some woodland creature into the Forest of the Great Beyond. She unbuckled and slid to the ground, looking around. Nothing horrible met her gaze, thank God.
“It went that way, I think,” Henry said, pointing over to the right where brush clogged a tree line.
Sunny stepped through some faded weeds and peered at the area. From behind one of the brushes, a black nose appeared. “There.”
Henry followed her as she climbed down into the thankfully dry ditch and up the rocky iron-ore slope. The two eyes accompanying the adorable nose held fear.
“It’s a pup,” she said, holding out her hand. “Here, little fella. I won’t hurt you.”
The dog didn’t move. From what she could see, the poor thing was missing hair. Maybe mange? And it looked thin as a whippet with mottled fur that looked to be blue merle with leopard splotches. Two big bat ears twitched and then lay flat as she approached.
“Easy, fella.”
The dog darted deeper into the woods, tail curled beneath it, ears down as if it were being hunted.
Sunny turned to Henry. “Do you happen to have any food in the truck? Something I can coax it out with so we can make sure it’s okay?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t try to do this. That dog might be dangerous, Sunny.”
“It’s not dangerous. It’s scared.” She eyed the dog. “Bring my purse too. The strap unhooks. We can use it as a leash of sorts.”
“I’m not sure—”
“Well, I am, Henry. It could be someone’s lost pet. We can’t leave it here.”
He studied her for a moment, nodded, and went back to the truck. Sunny turned back toward where the dog had disappeared. She was nearly certain it wasn’t injured, but it needed help. Thin and diseased, the dog was in danger from passing cars and other predators that lived in the Mississippi woods.
“Here, baby boy. I won’t hurt you,” she cooed.
Henry came back, holding her cross-body purse strap, a protein bar, and half a sandwich. “Katie Clare must have left this sandwich in the back seat, and I had this in the glove box. Sometimes I don’t have time for lunch.”
Sunny plucked the sandwich from his hand and pulled open the plastic bag. Tearing off half a piece, she tossed it toward where the dog had disappeared. Then she stepped back and waited, taking a moment to fashion a short lead from her purse strap.
Only seconds passed before the dog belly-crawled out of the brush toward the offering. Warily, it cast its sad eyes on them, then daintily took the bit of sandwich and swallowed it whole. On closer inspection, she saw the dog had burnt-sienna legs, a thin muzzle but broad head along with a bushy tail. Sunny knelt down and extended the rest of the sandwich. The dog watched her, eyeing the sandwich with a hungry gleam in the marbled brown depths of its eyes, but was still too wary to approach.
“Move back, Henry.”
Henry chuffed irritation but moved toward the truck.
Sunny lowered herself to a sitting position, ripping open the protein bar as she did. No chocolate, thankfully. That was a definite no-no for dogs. She laid the bar on her thigh and waggled the remainder of the sandwich. “Come on, fella. I won’t hurt you.”
The dog inched forward, tail still curled beneath its haunches.
“I don’t want you to get bitten, Sunny,” Henry called.
The dog stopped its progression, ears twitching.
“Shh!” she hissed over her shoulder before turning to the dog with a smile. “It’s okay. Come get this sandwich. You’re a hungry fella.”
The dog inched forward. Finally it got about three feet away from Sunny and stopped.
She wagged the sandwich. “Here it is. Come get it.”
The dog sat and watched her. Clever thing. Probably smelled a trap.
“I won’t hurt you,” Sunny said in a conversational way. Then she set the sandwich down in front of her. The dog looked at the offering and then back up at Sunny.
“Go ahead,” she whispered.
The dog carefully approached and took the sandwich, whipping around quickly and edging back into the brush. No time to try to pet it, much less get the st
rap around its neck. What if Henry was right? What if it bit her? It could have rabies. Humans died from rabies too. She should toss the rest of the bar and call someone from the county about a dog running loose off Dogwood Ridge. That would be the smart call.
But something inside her told her she needed to gain this dog’s trust.
“I have more,” Sunny said, lifting the peanut protein bar. “Yummy.”
The dog stilled and twisted its head in the most adorable way. Sunny broke off a tiny piece and popped it into her mouth. “Mm. Very good.”
The dog lay down, crossing its paws. Sunny ripped off another piece. “You can have some too.” She tossed a piece close to her.
The dog trotted over and scooped it up. Sunny reached out a hand and ran it over the pup. It scampered away like a scalded cat. But it didn’t disappear into the brush. Sunny tried with another piece. Same result. Soon she had only one piece left. Last shot to catch the pup and get it to a vet. She’d spied the ticks covering its body. The poor thing needed help. She held the piece in her left hand and waited. A few seconds passed. How hungry was the little beast? Hungry enough to take the last of the bar from her hand?
The dog approached, ears twitching as a passing car roared by. But its eyes never left the piece of food in Sunny’s hand. Carefully it moved closer, dainty paws moving one slow step at a time. Soon the dog was near enough to touch, but very, very wary. Sunny extended a hand to it. It sniffed and pulled its head back. Still, it eyed the last of the bar in her left hand.
Carefully the dog extended its neck, eyes rolling toward Sunny and then back at its goal. Slowly the dog opened its mouth and tried to take the last bite. Sunny held on to it tight while grabbing the leather strap at her side. Quick as spit, she looped it over the dog’s head. The dog reared back and Sunny caught hold of it. It wriggled like the very devil, scratching her legs through the leggings.
Sunny gave the dog the last of the bar but held the animal tight against her body. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She stroked the dog that now trembled against her.
