For No Reason (The Camdyn Series Book 4)

by Christina Coryell

  “At home? With Rita?” he clarified.

  And…cold bucket of water directly to the dream realm.

  “Drat.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was with a heart brimming with trepidation that I stepped onto the back deck of my own house and opened the door that July afternoon, knowing that Rita was nestled somewhere inside. One side of my imagination was picturing her sitting demurely on the couch, not knowing what to do with herself, with her hands folded together and her ankles crossed in a ladylike fashion. The other side of my imagination currently had her in my bedroom closet, digging through the private boxes of my grandmother’s things and destroying my personal belongings. Regardless of the fact that I knew the second option was preposterous, my pulse quickened at the thought and I found myself moving into the house more quickly.

  Breathe, Camdyn. Better you than Hannah, right?

  Except why is it better me than Hannah? Darn that Rosalie, making me feel all loving and responsible. Bleh.

  “Hello?” I called tentatively. It wasn’t necessary to look far, because when I came around the corner, Rita was seated on the couch, a copy of Crossing Heartbreak firmly planted on her lap. She gave me a fake smile when she looked up and met my eyes, and I returned a flimsy one of my own, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

  “I’m sorry for the intrusion,” she immediately offered her apology, appearing to be more uncomfortable than I felt. “I don’t know what was going on at the bed and breakfast, but Rosalie had Bill bring me over here. Cole was nice enough to let me come inside for a bit, but I’ll be happy to leave.”

  Sitting down across from her, I nervously placed my hands in my lap, trying not to wring them together. I wasn’t exactly certain that she would care, but the prospect of telling my mother that the daughter she hadn’t seen for thirty years was just a couple miles away wasn’t particularly appealing. In fact, it was bringing up all sorts of questions that I thought I had settled in my mind – or at least settled on not having answered.

  “You don’t need to leave,” I stated solemnly. “The truth is, I asked Rosalie to send you over here. I thought it might be easier on…everybody.”

  “Oh,” she said simply, not bothering to ask what would be easier, or on whom. “I’ve been reading your book at Rosalie’s, and I happened to take it to work with me today, so that gave me something to do.”

  Not coming up with a quick response, I muttered the word “good” stupidly and continued to sit there, staring at the older version of myself.

  Well, the older physical version of myself – I certainly hope I’m a little more mentally stable.

  And yes, I know Cole would be laughing if he heard me say that out loud.

  “You’re an excellent writer. Who would have thought that a daughter of mine could explain things so beautifully? I suppose mother did it, but I think she was mainly just rehashing what my grandmother told her.”

  “A good deal of it, yes,” I agreed, thinking about the journals my grandfather had given me and the story contained within. They were practically etched into my memory, I had been reading them so frequently. “Your grandmother was a remarkable woman. It’s been fun getting to know her and retelling her story.”

  “You’re writing a book about her?” she asked, an unrecognizable emotion flickering across her face.

  “Yes, Etta Rose is my next book subject, or Mariela Albrecht, although I’m keeping the fake names to protect the innocent.”

  “Innocent,” she sighed. “As though any of us are innocent.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that I could knock that one out of the park and really put her in her place, but while that might have appealed to me a couple of months back, it felt strangely abhorrent at that moment.

  Ugh, I’m like the Grinch with my heart growing three sizes. I can’t take all the feeling – make it stop!

  “You think on your face,” she stated quietly.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Sorry, what I meant was that I can tell when you’re processing things in your head. It’s written all over your face.”

  Letting out a sigh, I gave her a slight grin. “At least I’m not blurting those things anymore – I was having an issue with that for a while.”

  “That could get ugly,” she informed me with a laugh.

  “Tell me about it!”

  Perhaps the laughter helped me take my guard down a bit, or thinking about the Grinch had left me feeling a little helpless about the situation. (You know, the whole idea that even if you try to stop Christmas from coming, it comes just the same… It made a lot more sense at the time, and inside my head.) Anyway, I started getting all nostalgic and contemplating the situation I found myself in through Grandpa’s eyes, and suddenly it was almost as though I was outside looking in, not sitting across from Rita at all.

  “Hannah is at Rosalie’s,” I announced.

  So much for turning the “not blurting” corner.

  “Hannah is at Rosalie’s,” she repeated slowly as her face drained of color. The book slid carelessly off her lap, and her hand shakily rose to her throat.

  “I’m sorry, Rita,” I breathed. “I didn’t mean to throw it out there like that. She’s with Meg’s daughter Maureen. They called me earlier today, saying they were heading here. I asked Rosalie to have you come over here, so you two wouldn’t be forced upon each other. Not unless you want to be, at least.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t want to see me,” she added.

  “She might – it’s hard to say.”

  But…she probably doesn’t.

  An uncomfortable few seconds of silence followed, and the urge to say practically anything was bubbling up in my chest like a geyser getting ready to gush forth from the ground. Fighting to tamp it down, I gave some intense thought to what I should tell her.

  In the end, I drew a huge blank.

  “I’m going to be headed back over there in a while to meet them,” I informed her carefully. “Hannah and Maureen, I mean. Jake invited us to go mini golfing with him. They don’t know you’re here. You’re welcome to stay upstairs, if you like.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “Do you want me to send Rosalie over with some of your things?”

  “Yes, thank you, but only if it isn’t too much trouble,” she whispered.

  Rising from my chair, I pulled at the bottom of my t-shirt, realizing I still hadn’t taken a shower since my run that morning. “I guess I should get cleaned up, huh?” Moving to the doorway, I prepared to head into the hall and up the stairs, but something inside made me turn at the last moment to glance back at her, still sitting on the couch with the book at her feet.

  “I’m sorry, Rita.” With a jolt, she glanced up and locked eyes with me, coming out of her reverie.

  “Don’t be,” she answered with more clarity than I expected. “It’s like you said before – I made my own bed, so I’ll have to sleep in it.”

  -§-

  Cole breezed in from work and almost immediately left again for his baseball practice, not really even acknowledging Rita’s presence. To be honest, he barely said two words to me, either, but I soothed my hurt feelings by telling myself that he was excited about his baseball exploits. Besides, I suppose he wasn’t really worried about me being alone in the house with Rita, since he knew I would be humiliating myself at mini golf shortly.

  Rosalie picked me up when she dropped off Rita’s things, delivering me to the bed and breakfast before Jake appeared. I was met at the door by an anxious Maureen, eager to find out everything she could in order to impress her new acquaintance. She clearly had no idea what she was getting herself into, because my unusually perky young cousin was wearing a smile and a skirt, both of which looked out of place. The skirt was a little much for mini golf, in my opinion, but the smile was almost more unnerving, since I was accustomed to seeing a smirk at best from that girl.

  “Tell me everything about Jake,” Maureen insisted, taking my hand and pulling me over
to the couch. Her usual cool demeanor had been replaced by fanatic hormonal teenager, and it was almost amusing.

  “Jake,” I mumbled, measuring my words. “Jake loves women. Well, for a couple days, anyway. Any longer than that, and it’s sayonara.”

  “Lucky for me that I’ll only be here a few days,” Maureen concluded.

  “You’re not allowed to have a thing for Jake,” I told her carefully. “In fact, as your elder family member, I forbid it. Hannah, please back me up.”

  “It would be preferable if you would not make a fool of yourself, Maureen,” Hannah agreed, looking far more appropriate for mini golf in her black knee-length shorts than Maureen in her skirt.

  “Hannah’s just jealous because she wants Jake for herself,” Maureen surmised. At that, Hannah sighed and gave me a frustrated gaze.

  “Not to worry,” I laughed, “Jake’s an equal-opportunity flirt. How exactly did she convince you to come along on this man-hunting trip anyway, Hannah?”

  “It was a scam, obviously. She wanted some rest and relaxation, she said. If I’m being honest, though, the real reason I came along is that Aunt Meg asked me to babysit her.”

  “Jake’s here,” Maureen announced, tossing her hair over her shoulder as though she were dismissing Hannah’s opinion. Indeed, Jake’s red truck had pulled into the driveway, but he wasn’t alone, because a black SUV pulled in behind him. Standing at the door, I watched as two familiar-looking young men stepped from the SUV, but I couldn’t remember their names. If my memory served me correctly, they were people I had been introduced to the night Jake took me to B’s during my first week in Tennessee, but he had given me so many names that night, I remembered virtually none of them.

  “Look, Hannah, he brought you a guy,” Maureen crooned, giving Hannah a smirking grin. “Two guys, actually, so bonus for you.”

  “Good grief, Maureen.”

  Turning away from the window, I looked at my two relatives – so unlike each other and so different from me. It almost made me laugh, but I bottled it up and kept a straight face. “You girls go on out. I just want to tell Rosalie goodbye,” I informed them, stepping away. The sound of the front door swinging open was enough to convince me to continue walking, and I stepped back to the hallway and found Rosalie in her office.

  “Hi honey, you leaving?” Pushing her chair away from her desk, she hastily rose and stepped in front of the computer.

  “Yeah, Jake’s here, and he brought a caravan of men it appears.” She snorted as I rolled my eyes for effect. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you we were leaving.”

  “Keep an eye on that Maureen,” she pleaded, crossing her arms over her chest. “She certainly seems to be looking for trouble.”

  “You want me to keep someone out of trouble?” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows.

  “Humph,” she breathed out, putting a hand on my arm. “I must have lost my mind for a second.”

  “Clearly,” I agreed. She relaxed just enough that she stepped about a foot away from the computer, and with absolute clarity I witnessed something on that screen that caused a grin to spread across my face. The sight of my smile was enough to cause her to squint her eyes, and a hand immediately went to her hip. She was about to scold me for something – no doubt about it.

  “What are you up to?”

  “What am I up to?” I choked out, trying to appear calm. “I think the appropriate question is, what are you up to? To be more specific, why are you currently perusing profiles on Matchplace? Are you Internet dating?”

  “Internet dating?” she gasped, cheeks suddenly flaming red. “Can you imagine me Internet dating?”

  “I’m imagining it right now, because it’s appearing in front of my eyes.”

  “Well, I never…”

  “Cal265.”

  “What?”

  “Cal265 looks kind of attractive, that’s all.” She twisted to look at her computer screen, unable to hide her embarrassment, but unwilling to admit her actions. Stepping up to her, I draped my arm casually across her shoulders. “Oh, and Fairway67 looks interesting. I’m very intrigued by this turn of events. Maybe I should tell the girls to go on without me.”

  “You just get on out of here, missy,” she ordered. Normally her instructions seemed impossible to ignore, but in her present state, I was finding it difficult to do as she asked.

  “Maybe I should tell Maureen about this – it would be a lot easier than traipsing around Tennessee looking for a man.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Grinning, I gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. “Your secret’s safe with me,” I assured her. “Unless you need help picking a man. I am an expert, after all.”

  “An expert,” she repeated, shaking her head. “If I need help getting proposed to, I’ll let you know.”

  “That’s a deal!” With one last smile, I took my leave and headed back to the front of the bed and breakfast, chuckling to myself. Hannah and Maureen had gone outside as I suggested, but Jake was standing in their place.

  “What’s funny?” he wanted to know.

  “Nothing important. Where are the girls?” If Jake didn’t have Maureen hanging off his arm, I knew there must be a reason.

  “They already took off with Jimmy and Kyle.”

  “Willingly?”

  “What do you mean, willingly? Do you think they were kidnapped?” Opening the front door, he gestured for me to step outside. “I told them I would wait for you.”

  “Maureen didn’t want to ride with you?” I asked as I stepped through the doorway.

  “Oh, she was laying it on pretty thick, but I resisted her charms,” he assured me, pulling the door closed behind him.

  “Why?” I blurted, completely stunned.

  “I am capable of being respectable, you know. Besides, I feel obligated to Parker to look out for you. I can’t very well do that if you’re in the SUV and I’m in the truck.”

  “Why, Jake, how chivalrous of you,” I drawled, doing my best to imitate a southern accent.

  “Come on, don’t make it weird,” he insisted, swinging open the passenger-side door of his pickup. Placing my hand over my mouth, I gasped at the kind gesture. “Well, so much for you not being weird.”

  “You’ve set your hopes too high,” I informed him bluntly. Rather than reply, he simply closed the door and strolled around the front of the truck.

  -§-

  As it turned out, Hannah and Maureen seemed to be getting along fairly well with Jimmy and Kyle by the time we reached our destination, but Maureen had clearly not given up on her number one goal, which was obviously finding herself alone with Jake. For his part, for whatever unknown reason (other than his excuse that he had suddenly become “respectable”), Jake was being extremely unresponsive to her advances. In fact, by the time we were two holes in, Maureen was becoming noticeably irritated.

  “Whose idea was it to play this idiotic game?” she asked when her ball slid around the top of the cup and managed to slingshot about two feet back towards her.

  Lining up to take my shot, I took a little practice swing. Maureen really had no room to complain about the game – if anyone had a complaint, it was me. The course seemed to have it in for me. “It was Cole’s, I think,” I mumbled, sticking my tongue to the side of my mouth as I swung my putter. The ball rolled about sixteen inches and halted there in front of me, taunting me with its resistance to travel.

  “You are really bad at this,” Jake informed me, leaning on his putter from the side of the green. Since I was the worst player out of all six, it was taking me an astronomically long time to complete each hole. Hannah and Jimmy had tired of waiting for us, and Kyle was on the fence since he wasn’t really sure who should be his partner. Maureen hung on Jake’s arm every few minutes, but he seemed reluctant to leave my side, which was causing Kyle to wait in the wings with a puzzled look on his face.

  “The truth is, I’m colossally bad at everything,” I stated simply, smirking at Jake. Kyle lifted his ball cap a
smidge and sent a spray of tobacco spit sailing into the bushes. I quickly turned away, trying to quell the sudden nausea that rolled across my abdomen.

  “Can we just hurry up?” Maureen wanted to know. “I am getting dreadfully bored.” She stepped forward and picked up her ball, plunking it into the hole with her fingers. Kyle looked like he wanted to say something, but she gave him a searing look that convinced him to shut up.

  “Quiet, please,” I hissed, lining up my putter once again. “This shot requires complete concentration.” This time I connected the putter and the ball with a little more force, sending it flying outside of the boundaries and skittering down the concrete steps just beyond. I heard it bounce twice, and then nothing, as it presumably went into a bush or some mulch.

  “That could be the worst shot I’ve ever seen.” Kyle laughed right before he launched his tobacco spit into the bushes again. Fighting the impulse to gag, I turned away and stared at the steps, wondering where my ball had gone. It seemed best to remove myself from the situation, so I pretended to search for the ball while I forced air into my lungs and tried to control my stomach. Not finding the ball quickly, I sat on a concrete step and put my fist in front of my mouth, breathing in the scent of my hand lotion.

  “Heartbreaker?” Jake asked quietly, crouching beside me. “It’s just mini golf – there’s no need to get upset about it.”

  “I’m not upset,” I choked out, glancing up at him slightly. “I’m just trying to… Your friend Kyle, and the spitting…” Finding myself full in the lurches of a dry heave, I lifted my hand to my nose again and shook my head, trying to ward it off. He jumped up, presumably wanting to remove himself should I not contain the nausea, for which I didn’t blame him.

  “Kyle, Maureen,” Jake called, strolling away from me, “why don’t you two play ahead? Camdyn’s not feeling well.”