Live Love Rewind: The Three Lives of Leah Preston

by Glynn, Anne

  “It was for your own good,” Marlene said. “He was holding you down. You were in Hollywood but you weren’t dating anyone, seeing anyone. You’d have abandoned your dreams for him.”

  “Shouldn’t that have been my choice?”

  “It would have been the wrong choice.”

  “That’s not for you to say.”

  “You see? You’d have ended up married. You’d be poor.” Her mother spat the last word, as if she couldn’t imagine a worse fate for her daughter.

  Leah covered her face with her hands. She felt like crying but didn’t.

  She didn’t know what she should do.

  “Leah?”

  “Marlene,” Leah said, using her mother’s given name because she was angry at her. “What’s happening with Tanner?”

  “I’ve already said.”

  “Is he seeing someone? Married? Engaged?”

  “How should I know? I don’t keep up with the Boyds.” Marlene’s snooty tone vanished as she remembered what she’d done. In a smaller voice, she said, “I’ll try to find out if you want.”

  “What about Vanna?”

  “She’s such a strumpet. Bobby Tringale knocked her up. She had the baby six months ago but she’s still as big as a horse.”

  Disconnecting the call, Leah removed the earpiece from her head. Marlene would call her in a few minutes and she’d send her to voice-mail. In a week or two (or three or four), she’d forgive her.

  Not anytime soon, though. Not even close.

  Reaching for the ignition key, she started the car’s engine.

  # # #

  “You shouldn’t have come here, Leah,” Sharon Perna said. “I’m not going to help you find Tanner. After I send word, nobody else will, either.”

  Standing behind the screen door of her modest two bedroom house, Sharon glared out at her visitor. Leah had been in her home before but it was apparent she wasn’t welcome on this visit.

  “Why?”

  “You broke his heart.”

  “Is that what Tanner told you?”

  “My cousin doesn’t share his personal affairs with other people. You don’t have to be family to know. He hasn’t been right since you went to California.”

  Leah shifted the handbag on her shoulder. She felt a trickle of sweat run down her spine, a reminder of the heavy humidity she’d thought she’d left behind. “I need to see him.”

  “A little late for that, wouldn’t you say?” Sharon folded her heavy arms across her chest. “Go into town, all you’ll find is Deputy McNaught. I’ve let her know all about your behavior, I’ll tell you that much. She sees your candy apple car, I imagine she’ll find a reason to impound it.”

  The woman’s florid face was flushed a deep red. This level of anger didn’t make sense.

  Leah said, “I acted a little hastily when I left, granted. Maybe I should have tried harder to keep in contact. But it goes both ways, doesn’t it? Tanner could have called me.”

  “You think? And what was he supposed to say when your husband answered the phone?”

  “My husband?”

  “We all heard. Four months in Beverly Hills and you latched onto a rich man. Married him as quick as you could, without saying boo to anyone. It was a thumb in the eye to the people here, the ones who used to care about you.”

  “I’m not married,” Leah protested. “I’ve never been married!”

  A mean smile played over Sharon’s face. “You’re a lying little sneak. A week after the wedding, your mother sent a copy of the invite to the Sheriff’s Office.”

  She slammed the door closed. Leah stood on the porch, stunned.

  Driven by her fear of poverty, Marlene had done the unthinkable. All it had taken was something as simple as a pair of wedding invitations – Psssh. You can get those made on the internet. They cost less than ten dollars – for her to achieve her goal.

  She’d kept Leah and Tanner apart. Each convinced that the other was betrothed to someone else, they hadn’t even reached out to one another.

  The cell phone buzzed in Leah’s handbag. When she retrieved it, she saw her mother was on the line.

  “Damn you,” she told the phone, throwing it onto the porch. Without thinking, she drove the spike of her heel through its screen.

  She heard a crunch as the shoe struck its target. The phone’s screen cracked and then shattered, going black.

  Belatedly, she realized, Bad idea. There goes my only phone.

  “Get off my porch!” Sharon called from inside the house. “You don’t, I’ll call the cops. I swear I will!”

  The cops, Leah thought. Now there’s a good idea.

  Chapter Eleven

  The state of Mississippi has 82 counties and Tilton County is among the smallest. The last census declared the county to contain 11,105 people, 3,562 households, and 1,812 families residing in a total area of 443.51 square miles.

  If Leah had ever known any of this information, she’d long since forgotten it. There were a few things she did remember about the area, however.

  She knew Brandon’s Bayou Burgers was landlocked, with no visible connection to a bayou or any other body of water. She also knew its owner made the best French fries she’d ever eaten in her life.

  She knew Jenna Arevalo always managed to pay her bills on time, even though her husband Craig hadn’t held a job in his life. Jenna’s green thumb insured that she always had an ample supply of marijuana available for anyone with cash in hand.

  And Leah knew Quapaw Central Road was a speed trap.

  For decades, tourists had filled the Stanton Grove coffers by paying for the tickets written on Quapaw Central. Cars carrying local tags were usually ignored but any vehicle carrying out-of-state plates was considered fair game.

  Before his retirement, Sheriff Carpenter had taken a special pleasure in writing speeding tickets for drivers with Western license plates below their bumpers. He viewed California as ‘the Left Coast’, and assumed its occupants were all liberal miscreants.

  The members of the city council shared Carpenter’s political convictions, encouraging all law enforcement officials participate in similar efforts to raise revenue. So, when Leah heard that Tanner wasn’t at the jailhouse, she assumed she’d find his vehicle hidden along the side of the county’s biggest thoroughfare.

  She hoped so, anyway, as she turned her Mustang onto Central and hit the gas. The car leapt forward, its engine providing a pleasant drum of power as the speedometer tilted toward the right. Leah went 10…then 20…then 25 miles over the speed limit. Sweetgum trees blurred past as the muscle car raced forward.

  Her hands gripping the steering wheel, Leah was frightened to go any faster. The wide, two-lane road was in the middle of nowhere but a blown tire could still send her into a spin-out.

  If Tanner had been in the driver’s seat, he’d have pushed the Ford to its limit just because he could. He loved the rush that accompanied such danger. The boring, too predictable, routine of a country sheriff must have been driving him mad.

  Behind a patch of thick foliage, a glint of metal flashed at her as she soared past. Seconds later, she heard the wail of a siren. Glancing at the rear view mirror, she saw the flashing lights of a police sedan. The car was dark brown with white lettering, a familiar sight in Tilton County.

  Immediately, she lifted her foot from the gas pedal. The Mustang slowed quickly as she brought it onto the road’s gravel berm.

  She watched in the side view mirror as Tanner climbed from his vehicle. Doing Bill Carpenter proud, he carried a ticket book in his hand.

  Dressed in his uniform, sunglasses covering his eyes, he looked even more handsome than she remembered. Lowering the side window, Leah busied herself by searching for her identification.

  Her heart was pounding excitedly.

  “License and registration, ma’am,” he told her. “Then we’ll have a little discussion about road safety.”

  Handing over her driver’s license, Leah said, “Hello, officer.”
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br />   With his index finger, he slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. He stared at her.

  “I guess I was distracted.” Leah gestured at the Brandon’s Bayou Burgers bag in the passenger seat. “Eating, I mean. The fries are incredible. There’s nothing like them in Los Angeles.”

  He returned the sunglasses over his eyes before dropping her license in her lap. “Watch how you’re driving. There’s a lot of wildlife that crosses these roads. You don’t want to get in an accident.”

  “Aren’t you going to say hello, Tanner?”

  “Consider this a warning.” With a hitch in his voice, he added, “It’d be best if I didn’t catch you in these parts again.”

  Stiff-legged, he returned to his vehicle. Unlocking her seat belt and opening her car door, Leah stepped onto the gravel as the sheriff’s car rolled past. Tanner refused to look in her direction.

  Screw you.

  It was a harsh thought but, with the adrenaline still rushing through her, it was the first one that sprang to mind. You once asked to marry me, she reminded him silently, and now you can’t be bothered to say hello?

  Returning to the driver’s seat, she buckled her seat belt. The sheriff’s car moved casually down the long avenue.

  After their break-up, she’d gone to the West Coast, intending to forget all about Tanner Boyd. For the first month, she’d answered his calls, but only briefly. She replied to his text messages, but without warmth. Struggling to find her way and build her career, she didn’t have time for anyone who doubted her.

  His last text had read, When are you coming home?

  His unspoken message was, she’d never make it in Tinseltown. Not her, not a nobody Southern girl without friends in high places. It was stupid for her to even try.

  Then, a few weeks after she’d left Stanton Grove, she heard through the grapevine that he was dating someone.

  No, she realized, it wasn’t through the grapevine. Mother called.

  When Marlene told her about Tanner’s rush to the altar, the action felt like a betrayal. The news opened an emotional wound so deep, she feared it might never heal. She tried to push any thought of his wedding from her mind, never thinking to question what her mother had said.

  She couldn’t believe she’d been so gullible.

  Leah had been hurt so she knew Tanner must have suffered, too, receiving a similar notice of her own betrothal. Her mother had probably called him as well, embellishing her fiction as best she could.

  He hadn’t questioned the story of her marriage, either. It was wretched, how a good tale, an embroidered envelope, and a bit of folded cardboard could so easily lead people astray.

  Still, there was no reason for Tanner to treat her so coldly here, not when they were face-to-face. No matter what he thought, he should have been willing to speak with her.

  “I guess I need to catch your attention,” she told the vanishing sedan.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tanner kept one hand on the steering wheel as the patrol car drifted down the road. With his free hand, he swiped at the touchscreen of the console’s radio.

  It brightened and, seconds later, a familiar voice came on line. “What’s up, boss?”

  “Give me something, Donna.”

  “Nothing to share, Sheriff. Everything’s quiet.”

  “Anything to get me off this road. I’ll rescue a cat in a tree.”

  “Sorry, Tanner. Quapaw is all we’ve got for now.”

  The connection blinked off as Leah’s red Mustang roared past him. Below the car’s silver bumper, its license plate was briefly visible before the vehicle vanished from sight.

  The personalized plate read, DREEMZ.

  “How West Coast of you,” Tanner mused out loud. The last time he’d seen Leah, she was pinching every penny in order to pay for school tuition. In those days, she hadn’t even owned a set of wheels. Now she was driving the newest version of his favorite high-powered pony-car.

  He guessed times had changed.

  Tanner might have admired the car but he would never have spent the money for a personalized license plate. Such plates weren’t practical. The yearly fee was a waste of cash.

  Why had she picked that particular word to share with the world, anyway?

  On reflection, he thought he knew why. Leah was a California girl, now, and dreams were part and parcel of the California fantasy. The word was just another way of saying ‘wishes’ and, as Tanner had learned too well, wishes didn’t come true. If they had, his entire adult life would have been different.

  If fantasies came true, he’d be married. The two of them would have a child by now, another in discussion, and their home would be a comforting place, a good place. A place filled with love.

  He wouldn’t be spending his days in a two bedroom downtown apartment, counting the minutes until he could quit this job. He wouldn’t spend his nights walking the floors, wondering why he’d acted such a fool.

  If wishes came true, he’d have received a do-over. Given a second chance, he’d never let Leah walk out of his life.

  To this minute, he didn’t know why he’d fallen in love with her and only her. She was cute, and her smile made him catch his breath, but the world didn’t lack for pretty women. She was bright, and he’d always admired intelligence, but Mississippi had its share of smart women, too.

  Since she’d left him, he’d been introduced to dozens of lovely, clever women. He’d dated some of them. He’d even bedded a few, but never anyone more than once.

  None of them were special. None of them were Leah.

  He couldn’t explain why her absence had left such a hole in his heart. In his restless evenings alone, he’d decided he’d never know the answer. That was probably because there wasn’t one answer; there wasn’t one thing that made the difference.

  There were a thousand small reasons why he couldn’t forget her. It was the way she laughed; the secret phrases they shared; how her eyes brightened when he came in the door; and how she didn’t know, didn’t even suspect, the great joy he felt each and every time he saw her.

  He felt like more of a man because he was worthy to have her as his woman. Had been worthy, anyway, once upon a time.

  Had he told her any of that, before he’d driven her away? Not a word of it.

  DREEMZ.

  Three years ago, he’d willingly given his up. He was trying to be the good, solid, practical man that the local voters wanted so he could build a stable, dependable life with the woman he loved.

  Leah had refused to abandon her own dreams, even after he’d pleaded with her to do so. She’d remained mute as he’d argued in front of her, his ring in hand, until at last he’d said too much. She’d fled from him, traveling cross-country to fulfill her ambitions.

  Now, she had what she’d always wanted while he still owned the ring, tucked in the corner of his bottom bureau drawer. Nothing had happened the way he expected.

  When Leah left, Tanner wanted to follow after her but it wasn’t possible. He was a newly-elected sheriff with a thousand fresh responsibilities in front of him. He’d written and called her, instead, been ignored more often than not, then finally sent her a text: When are you coming home?

  Because he knew, if she’d return to Stanton Grove for one single day, he’d be able to share all of the thoughts that had consumed him. He’d have told her how wrong he’d been. He’d have apologized for doubting her. He’d have placed a ring on her finger and vowed to wait as long as she needed, if she would consider sharing her life with him.

  He’d never had a chance to say any of it. Leah Preston had never returned home.

  Not until now. Now, when it was too late.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pressing the accelerator flat to the floorboard, Leah zoomed past the sheriff’s car. Seconds later, the black-and-white patrol car had disappeared behind her. Alone on the parkway, she let the Mustang slow down as she checked the rear view mirror.

  Behind her, the road was empty. No matter what
her speed, Tanner was refusing to give chase.

  An angry heat flushed over her body.

  She twisted the steering wheel, cutting the car across both lanes. Angled sideways, the Ford blocked traffic from either direction.

  Setting the emergency brake, Leah reached into the glove compartment. Her fingers curled over the plastic bag she’d stashed there. Holding it in one hand, she stepped onto Quapaw Central Road.

  Creeping forward, Tanner’s vehicle approached. When he saw her, his expression went flat.

  You told me I was acting stupid, all those years ago, Leah thought. I’ll show you stupid.

  The vehicle stopped, at least a hundred feet away from her. Its engine rumbled as Tanner rolled down his side window.

  Leaning on the Mustang’s fender, Leah called out, “You drive off and I’ll leave this car right here. Nobody will get past.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “I swear I will.”

  He eased his foot from the brake, finally catching up to her. Climbing from the driver’s seat, Tanner said, “You don’t want to push me, Leah.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “There you go, hot as a pistol and ready to tussle. I don’t want to fight you. I just want you gone.”

  Sadness colored his last words. Hearing the emotion in his own voice, Tanner’s tone grew hard. “You want to leave your damned hot rod here, be my guest. Let one of the logging trucks smash it flat. Once you return to Sunset Boulevard, I guess your husband can always buy you another.”

  He turned toward the police cruiser. When he did, Leah threw her knotted plastic bag at him. Striking the back of his head, it fell to the asphalt.

  “Woman, what’s wrong with you?” Tanner considered the fallen object. Tightly knotted, the bag was filled with tiny, dried olive-green leaves. A speckling of brown powder dotted the inside surface.

  Leah said, “All these years, you’d think someone would have busted the Arevalos by now. It’s not like everyone doesn’t know where Jenna lives and what she grows.”