Audrey's Promise

by Sheehey, Susan

  “You really think I’m out for blood, don’t you?”

  “You don’t write puff pieces or human interest stories. From everything I’ve read, you specialize in exposures and scandals. By the way, how did you uncover all that dirt on the county commissioner?”

  Ethan smiled and shrugged. “Find a weakness and poke around.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want any of my family’s weaknesses poked around and plastered across the front page. They have big hearts and an even bigger kitchen and they’re the best people I know. I don’t want them hurt by anyone. So whatever you’re after, leave them out of it. Deal?”

  “You have a lot of rules.”

  “Deal?” she repeated, louder.

  Ethan sighed and scribbled on his pad. “Deal.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So tell me who I’m about to meet. Start with your siblings.” He kept scribbling on his pad and Audrey noticed the way he wrote with his index finger covering his thumb. He must suffer from hand cramps like crazy. The size of his palm, too…were other areas as proportionate?

  Audrey flipped the defroster to her face and prayed she didn’t look as red as she felt.

  “Adam is eleven months older than me, but we were in the same grade through school. He went into the Army and did two tours in Afghanistan. Now he’s married and a deputy in the Mackineer Sheriff’s Department.”

  “So, blackmailing him for dirty stories is probably a no?”

  “Go for it. You’ll have a comfy overnight stay in the local holding cell. Save your newspaper the cost of the hotel.”

  Ethan laughed and scribbled more.

  “Addy is sixteen.”

  “Addy?”

  “Adelaide. Real big into pageants. Trying to save her winnings for a powder blue Mustang. And world peace, of course.”

  “A southern belle.” Ethan leaned back in his seat and studied her. “Were you ever into beauty pageants?”

  “No. Mom tried, but I was stubborn. Although when Addy was younger, she would have been a headliner on that Toddlers and Tiaras show.”

  “Stubbornness must be genetic then. What does your sister think of your political career?”

  Audrey laughed as she exited the highway. “You’ll have to ask her that, but she’s sixteen. She’s more concerned with high school and boys.” She threw Ethan a look. “As she should be.”

  “And Adam?”

  Audrey pursed her lips and turned onto a small two-lane road lined with spruces and pines. “Like most law enforcement and military men, he doesn’t have a taste for politics. Or liberal media.”

  “So you’re saying he’s a hard ass.”

  “I’m saying don’t piss him off.”

  “Protective type, eh?”

  Audrey clenched her jaw, but refused to respond. Her coffee cup had been empty for the last thirty miles and she really needed to wet her throat. Her hand must have unconsciously grabbed her cup again because Ethan reached down and pulled out a bottle of soda from his bag and handed it to her.

  “Sorry. I planned to give you this earlier, but you’re distracting.”

  Audrey shifted her eyes from the bottle to Ethan, and then back to the bottle. “Thanks.” A nice gesture. Surprising.

  “It’s your favorite, right? Saw you drinking one at the studio.”

  “Yeah.” He pays more attention than I thought. “And I’m only as distracting as you let me be. Besides, you must have written the book on diversion. You haven’t answered any of my questions.”

  “I didn’t say diversion, I said distraction.” The way his eyes gleamed from the passenger seat, completely disinterested in everything except who sat in the driver’s seat, jacked up her heartbeat. “All you have to do is just sit there to accomplish it.”

  Audrey snorted.

  “Come on. You know you’re a brunette Botticelli babe. One smile from you, and you’ll have every vote in your district.”

  “You’re the king of diversion. First, you’re just trying to butter me up for this article. Second, you’d say that to any female candidate under the age of forty. Third, you still haven’t answered my questions.”

  “Because I’m not as interesting as you are.”

  Audrey looked straight into his eyes, easing her foot off the accelerator. “You’re scared.”

  Ethan laughed, never taking his gaze off hers. “I told you I don’t have any scandals under my mattress.”

  “Not that. You’re afraid to let me in. To let anybody in.”

  Ethan scoffed, but didn’t say anything.

  “Prove it. Tell me about your family. You have siblings?”

  Ethan chewed on something inside his mouth and glanced out the window.

  “Pansy,” Audrey muttered.

  Ethan took a large breath as the smile dissipated from his slender face like the rain spots on the windshield. “Nope. Only child, Mom died years ago, and Dad hasn’t been in the picture for double that.”

  Audrey blanched. “Wow. Practiced that one a bit, have you?”

  “Nothing interesting there. Which is why I focus on other people’s lives.”

  “Why do I highly doubt that?”

  The trees grew thicker alongside the road as they drove, the drizzle subsiding to a glossy sheen on the bright foliage. The car slowed through curves and turns, and the road opened up to Central Avenue, the shops, restaurants, and tiny deserted parking lots.

  “So this is where you grew up?”

  “Mackineer, Texas. Population 2,412. Home to the sweetest blueberry cobbler in the South.”

  “Your mom’s?”

  “Missy’s Diner on Pearl Street.” Audrey pointed out the restaurant with silver aluminum siding, faded moniker, and empty side lot.

  “Must not be that good. Doesn’t look like Missy’s in business anymore.”

  Audrey laughed. “This isn’t the big city. Everyone’s at home cookin’ and watching the parade on TV. Missy will be open tomorrow.”

  Turning another corner they passed a grove of pecan trees where a six-point buck darted across the road and into the brush. Audrey didn’t have time to react and cruised slowly down the street while Ethan’s eyes followed the trail.

  “Incredible.”

  “Yeah. Sad to think in less than a month he may be dead.”

  “Why?”

  “Hunting season.”

  Watching Ethan engaged in their surroundings threw her off guard. She expected him to be more aloof, completely focused on digging for dirt. But he seemed genuinely interested in her hometown. Could he really have an honest agenda? She wanted to think better of him. It’d be nice if someone surprised me.

  More than that. She wanted her heart to match her body’s reaction to him. But he was a journalist. How honorable could he be?

  By the time they reached Audrey’s parents’ house, the sun peeked out behind the scattering clouds and cast a light across the sparkling wet lawn. They pulled up the gravel driveway and parked under an oak tree, its branches shading half the two-story house. The tire swing still hung from the lowest branch, but the rope was worn and fraying.

  As she unbuckled her seatbelt, Audrey looked up at the center window on the top floor. She’d crawled out of that window and down the porch balcony over a hundred times. Strange, how the drop didn’t seem as high now.

  “We’ll go in and introduce you. I’ll drop off my things and then drive you to the hotel to check in.”

  “I can’t get to know you and your family from sitting in hotel room. Well, unless you’d like to keep me company there.” He winked at her as he reached into the back seat to grab his coat. No honest agenda for this playboy. She really needed to stop thinking the better of people. It only led to disappointment.

  “Listen.” Audrey gulped and tied her hair back. “It’s been a while since I’ve been home. So, just…take it easy. Don’t push them into questions.”

  His bewildered stare as he paused holding the door handle made her second guess herself.

 
“This isn’t my first interview or meet the parents movie. Get the stick out of your butt and relax. It’s Thanksgiving.”

  When she watched him step out of the vehicle and shut the door, Audrey braced herself on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. Exactly. It’s Thanksgiving.

  With a jerk on the handle, Audrey stepped out, along with her purse and soda bottle. The charming white wooden porch with seat swing and frosted glass door loomed over her like a scalding authority time couldn’t diminish. This has to be done eventually. Like pulling off a bandage, even if it ripped off half the skin.

  They both clomped up the wooden steps, each plank creaking, but strong and sturdy. As always, Mom’s flower gardens on either side of the stairs were immaculate, the rose bushes pruned and fertilized for the winter season, flanked by chrysanthemums and tulip bulbs. Audrey took one last sip of her soda and shoved it in her purse. If she lasted through the next five minutes without losing her cool, she’d reward herself with a giant glass of wine. Clenching her fist, she knocked on the door and held her breath.

  The door swung open and the familiar scent of apples and cinnamon flooded over her. A giant figure stood on the other side, with a full head of white hair and permanent scowl.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  He merely stared back at her glowering, but his eyes shadowed in disbelief.

  Chapter Six

  Her father’s stunned eyes threw her back into adolescence the way only a parent’s face could. The lines on his forehead, cheeks, and around his eyes had deepened, but his brawny arms seemed larger. Apparently ten years couldn’t erase disappointment or heal wounds.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Dad.” Her voice was strong and sturdy. Stay positive.

  “Audrey,” he replied, low and noncommittal. He could have been addressing the postman with the level of intensity.

  “Mr. Allen,” Ethan began with his charming smile and pearly teeth, reaching out to shake her father’s hand. “I’m Ethan Tanner. Pleasure to meet you.”

  If a scowl could freeze hell, her father was Jack Frost. He looked as though he might vomit. Audrey cringed, realizing her first big mistake.

  Her father stretched out a large, roughly callused hand and squeezed Ethan’s. “I’m Paul Biddinger.”

  Ethan’s smile wavered. “Biddinger?”

  “That’s what I said.” He released Ethan’s hand and looked him over like a disturbed lion. “You dragged along a boyfriend?”

  Audrey opened her mouth to protest with every bone in her body, but Ethan beat her to it.

  “No, I’m a journalist with the Dallas Morning Journal.” Ethan molded the smile back on his face, as if he’d practiced that line over a million drinks. “Audrey let me join her this weekend to meet you all. I’m writing an article on both candidates.”

  Paul moved his tongue like he was chewing on tobacco, and hated the taste of it. When his eyes landed on his daughter once again, Audrey felt like running.

  “Your government thing, huh? How original.”

  “Paul, honey, who is it?” The high, flowery voice came from behind the door as Audrey’s mother approached. When she saw Audrey standing there, gripping her purse with blue knuckles, her mother’s jaw fell to the porch, along with the dishrag in her hand.

  “Is that really my Audrey? Sweet pickle, Paul, don’t just leave them to mold on the porch. Come inside and get warm.” With a light push of her hand, her husband stepped back and allowed the two to come in.

  Audrey’s heart swelled as her mom grabbed her for a tight hug and waved away the building tears. The lavender-scented lotion she used soothed Audrey’s worries, just a touch. “Good to see you, Mom. You’ve worn that rooster apron every Thanksgiving since I was two.”

  “If it still fits, I’ll wear it. The Macy’s parade is almost over, but you can still catch Santa. You know that’s Addy’s favorite part.”

  The smell of the turkey roasting in the kitchen filled the house, just like when she was a kid. In ten years, their tradition hadn’t changed. Neither had her mother’s heartwarming thick East Texan accent.

  “And who is this strappin’ young man?”

  “Ethan Tanner, Dallas Morning Journal.” Ethan didn’t skip a beat. “This house is so charming. Who is your decorator?”

  “Aren’t you funny! Myrna Biddinger,” her mother almost swooned over him. “So glad to have you. We can always fit another place setting at the table. Especially for someone as handsome as you.”

  There he goes again, plastering on that schmoozing smile. You’d think he was born with it. But at least he’d won over one person in this house. Dad hadn’t changed at all, and neither would have Adam.

  As Myrna fussed over taking their coats and bustling them into the family room, Audrey noticed her father retreat to the back of the house. Probably escaping to the den where he’d feast on another beer and the pre-game football show. He didn’t even give her a hug. This was going to be a harder weekend than she thought.

  Though the house looked exactly the same. Warm, open, country-inviting with a wooden antique dining set on one side of the entry way, and upholstered sofas in the family room. Books everywhere. In the built-in bookshelves, on the coffee table, even stacked on the floor by the red brick fireplace. Books on quilting, flower arrangements, gardening, and a hodge-podge of other do-it-yourself topics.

  Ethan grabbed her elbow and lowered his voice when her mother was out of earshot.

  “Biddinger? Have something to hide already?”

  The heat from his fingers shot up her arm into her brain like an electrical current, even through her long-sleeved shirt. If those eyes would only glitter at her for a different reason. But everything else about his words proved his true intentions about the visit. It made her sick.

  “No, Sherlock. I changed my last name years ago to protect them from situations like this.”

  “So, no secret marriage certificate for me to dig up?”

  “If there was, you really think I’d keep the last name? Politics is ugly and I didn’t want my opponents—or bloodthirsty reporters—badgering my family.”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed on her. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Why not?”

  “Most politicians depend on their families for support. Public support. And you’re keeping them from it. Why?”

  “Everyone deserves privacy. And they aren’t the type for the public circus.”

  Just as Ethan opened his mouth to fire back, Myrna returned, all smiles, with a tall, blue-eyed blonde bounding behind her. Adelaide’s fully figured form and makeup-covered face resembled the tiny, natural rosy-cheeked cherub Audrey remembered. She had the same inextinguishable light in her eyes and perfect smile, but Audrey struggled to accept this woman before her as her sister.

  “Audrey!” Addy pushed past her mother and threw her arms around Audrey’s neck, nearly squeezing the breath out of her. “You’re here! You’re actually here!”

  “Addy, when did you get so strong?”

  “Tae bo keeps me fit for pageants. Look at your hair! So long now, and those posh highlights.”

  “Addy, dear, step back and let them sit in the family room.” Myrna took off her rooster apron and glittered over Ethan. “Can I get either of you a drink?”

  “Who is this?” Adelaide stepped back and roved her innocent eyes up and down Ethan’s clothes. Buttering him up, already. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “Ethan Tanner.” The man never missed a beat, or a chance to flash that grin. “I’m a journalist writing an article on your sister. You must be the beauty princess, Adelaide Biddinger.” Enunciating the last name sent fires raging through Audrey’s veins. He wasn’t going to give up on that. The least important part of what she was sure would be plastered in his article.

  “A journalist? Then you must know all the TV anchors on NBC. What are they like?”

  Audrey laughed. “He writes for the Dallas Morning Journal, Addy. He’s not that important to know TV anchors.” Score one for the
politician. Audrey threw him a victorious smile, which weakened when he looked back at her with a teasing smirk.

  “Drinks, anyone?” Myrna asked again, who eyed Audrey’s interaction with Ethan.

  “I’d love some coffee, Mom.”

  “Coffee’s good for me, too.”

  Audrey followed her mother into the kitchen to help, smirking under her skin that Ethan would be left alone in the family room with Adelaide.

  The kitchen smelled more glorious than Audrey remembered, with the battling scents of sherry roasted turkey, cinnamon coffee, and stewing apple cider.

  Apple cider!

  “Wow! I’ll have the cider instead.”

  Myrna started to fill the coffee pot with water. “Yeah, Sally’s been craving apples lately.”

  “Sally?” Audrey paused from reaching for a mug in the cabinet. “Adam and Sally are here?”

  “Yes, they’re back in the den with your father. Do you mind fillin’ a mug for her, too?”

  Audrey unconsciously reached in to the cabinet for another mug and filled both to the brim. The sweet waft of cider numbed her shock—slightly. But she really shouldn’t be surprised. Thanksgiving meant family gatherings. It made sense for her brother and his wife to be here. Deep down, it also made sense that he hadn’t come to welcome her yet, either.

  Lost in thought, Audrey hadn’t realized her mother stopped preparing coffee and stared at her from across the kitchen. “How are you?” Her mother’s question hung in the air with more concern and love than Audrey had felt in years.

  “I’m great,” she replied, political smile intact despite the yearning to let it go. “Campaign is running superbly, thanks to Miranda. Hopefully Ethan’s article will clinch it for me.”

  “I saw your interview yesterday.”

  “And?”

  Myrna sighed and pushed the button on the coffee maker. “You’ve done really well for yourself. Despite everythin’.”

  Not exactly what I was looking for. “I’m making a difference. That’s what this election is for.”