Stupid cologne. Why did he have to smell so good? Wasn’t he a farmer? He was supposed to smell like cows or pigs or … something.
She did her best to ignore him and began filling out the form, scratching the cheap ballpoint pen rapidly over the paper.
“We’re both acting ridiculous,” Wade said quietly.
“Oh really, Mr. Shoulda used the Ice Melt?” she singsonged in a fierce whisper.
“Okay, that was low,” he admitted. “But, I said I was sorry. And I am sorry. I was angry.”
“I thought you said you weren’t angry.”
“I lied.”
He wore a faded plaid shirt and jeans so old that the denim had turned buttery soft. She could see a flash of skin where his knee was starting to poke through a hole.
Okay, she should not be staring at Wade’s knees, or at the ropy muscles in his tanned forearm below the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. She yanked her attention back to the form and saw him grin from the corner of her eye. He knew the effect he was having on her and enjoyed it immensely.
“What are you even doing here?” April demanded. “Don’t tell me you’re entering the contest.”
“Paisley called and asked if I could bring some extra tables from the church over in my truck,” Wade said. “I was leaving when I saw you drive up.”
She tried to find something wrong with that and couldn’t, so she stayed quiet and went back to the clipboard.
Wade’s chair squeaked as he leaned closer and whispered, “Remember when we had the marker fight and Mrs. Snow made us sit in the hall?” His breath was warm on her neck and goose bumps broke out on her arms.
Stupid goose bumps. She shifted away from him and tried to concentrate on the form. Why was this dumb thing so long anyway? It was just a dinky contest in a dinky town in Montana. She vowed to find Paisley and let her have it.
“We sat right over there,” Wade pointed. “And Mrs. Snow left us for an hour.”
April’s hands were shaking and she gripped the pen tighter.
“But it was fun because I had gum and you had a Tamagotchi and we spent the whole time trying to kill it,” Wade continued. “Remember?”
She remembered. Sitting under the coat rack with Wade, webs of multicolored ink staining their arms and faces. They chewed Juicyfruit while they traded the Tamagotchi back and forth and shushed each other when their giggling got too loud.
Wade was silent, waiting for her to jump into the memory. If she did, would it mean she forgave him? Did it mean he forgave her?
She took a deep breath. “And when she’d come to check on us, we’d sit really still with our heads down, so she thought we were full of remorse,” she said. “But we were really trying not to laugh.”
Wade grinned and sat back in his chair. She met his eyes and years of memories hung in the air between them. Finally, she ducked her head to the form again.
“You’d think Mrs. Snow would have known better than to sit us in the hall together,” Wade mused.
“Probably happy to have us out of her hair,” April replied.
“I am glad to see you, you know,” he said quietly after a pause.
She scribbled her signature on the bottom of the form. “Your girlfriend sure wasn’t.”
“Girlfriend?”
“I saw Tracie at the grocery store. Congratulations, she’s a lovely girl,” April couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Wade snorted and let his head fall back against the painted cinderblock wall. “You think I’m dating Tracie Brandenberg?”
“That’s what she said.”
“I can’t believe you fell for that.”
Her head snapped up and she stared at him for a minute, comprehending. “That girl is pure evil,” she said at last.
“I prefer to think she is so overcome by my charms she simply can’t help herself,” he smirked.
“Ah yes, there’s the humility,” April rolled her eyes.
He gave her a crooked smile.
“She always did have a crush on you,” April pointed out and couldn’t help adding, “along with most of the girls at school.”
He turned his head against the wall to look at her. “I only ever cared about one girl,” he said softly.
The pen slipped from April’s fingers and clattered to the floor. She dove for it. “So Tracie’s not your girlfriend,” she said when she came back up.
“No.”
“Well, is there a girlfriend? Or a wife?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” he replied.
She realized they were sitting a bit too close together and their voices were a bit too hushed to look like just friends having a casual conversation. Mrs. Leland shot a disapproving glance their way.
She stood up. “I need to find Emily.”
“Wait.” His fingers closed around her wrist and heat raced up her arm. “Come get ice cream with me … you and Em.”
When they entered the lobby of Big C’s, April took a deep breath and smiled at the familiar smell. Grease and hamburgers and onions and … memories.
Big C’s was a Snow Valley institution. It was a small, square building of gray brick with a large patio in the front. In the summertime the patio was cluttered with tables and chairs and people, but now it lay buried under the snow. Inside, the terracotta tiles were offset with black grout that may or may not have been a much lighter color at one time, before decades of teenagers had ground it full of dirt. A plastic Christmas tree was shoved into one corner and multicolored red, green, and white tinsel draped along the front counter.
Two teenagers were behind the counter and two more could be seen working the grills. Mr. C, almost as much of an institution as his restaurant, bustled around dropping baskets of fries into the vats, scooping up ice cream, and hollering out order numbers.
It was strange to be standing in line beside Wade. He was at the same time very different than what she was used to and yet so overwhelmingly familiar. He was taller than Scott and the angle she had to tilt her head to look at his face felt wrong … or was it the other way around and being with Scott was what felt wrong?
Wade was also more muscular than Scott and she had been right the other day when she thought his shoulders and chest seemed broader. Probably from all the farm work.
Stupid farm work. And stupid memories. Why did they have to hurt so much?
Finally, they reached the head of the line. “What do you want, Em?” Wade asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Peanut butter,” she replied instantly.
Wade turned to the girl behind the counter. “One peanut butter shake, one blackberry, and …” he flashed April a quick grin, “mint chocolate chip and an order of onion rings?”
She smiled. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything,” he said before turning away to pay for their order.
Huge shakes were a Big C’s tradition, towering several inches above the rim of the white foam cups. They found a booth and Emily dug in. “Thanks, Wade,” she said. “I haven’t been here in a long time.”
April was extremely conscious of the way her knees kept bumping against Wade’s under the table, not entirely by accident. She took a deep breath and willed herself to relax as she reached for an onion ring and used it to scoop up a bit of her thick green shake.
“You are the only person I know who eats mint ice cream with onions,” Wade teased.
“You don’t know what you’re missing. Want some?”
He shook his head, his brown eyes dancing.
Suddenly they were teenagers again, stopping at Big C’s after a dance or a football game. Crowding into booths with friends, everyone talking at once and yelling out requests to whoever had money for the old fashioned jukebox. Only Wade would have been sitting by her side, his arm around her shoulders. She fought back the urge to thread her fingers through his, just to see if they still fit perfectly together.
Emily launched into a long narrative about the gingerbread-slash-graham cracker h
ouse. Wade listened and asked the right questions at the right time, but his gaze lingered on April. She wondered if he was having the same rush of memories.
“Em, do you want to pick a couple of songs?” he said when Emily stopped for breath. He dug in his pocket and handed her several quarters.
“Sure!” She leaped up and skipped over to the jukebox.
“Very smooth,” April laughed.
Wade grinned, but his expression became serious when he leaned across the table. “You were right, we do need to talk about it,” he said quietly.
April knew the it he was referring to. Twin Falls.
But what good would talking about it do? She’d already let him back into her life more than she should. Making peace with Wade seemed like a good idea the other day, but she had not counted on how it made her feel to be around him again. Maybe some things were better left buried.
She shook her head. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need to talk about it.”
“I thought you wanted closure.”
“Well, I don’t anymore,” she stabbed at her green ice cream with her spoon.
For a long moment there was silence until finally April raised her head and met his eyes. Were hers as full of pain as his? Probably.
She took a shaky breath and spun the diamond on her finger so it nestled inside her clenched fist. Wade was the past. Scott was the future.
“I should go.”
“But we just got here,” Emily protested as she came back to the table and saw April preparing to leave. “I’ve barely reached the cup.”
“You can eat in the car,” April replied firmly, grateful they’d brought the van after all. Scott would have a fit if they took food in his car. Hopefully her mother didn’t feel the same about the van.
Wade was quiet as she slid out of the booth and reached for her purse. “Thanks, I had fun,” she said, her voice not quite as breezy and light as she’d hoped.
“So did I,” he replied softly.
April was the first to look away. “Come on, Em, let’s go.” She led the way outside and knew without looking that Wade’s eyes followed her.
“Why didn’t you marry Wade?” Emily asked, once they were in the van.
“It’s complicated,” April sighed. “Don’t you like Scott?”
Emily furrowed her brow. “He’s nice I guess, but Wade is way more fun.”
April’s throat tightened and she stomped on the gas. Emily was right, Wade was more fun. Well, he was more fun today. But that didn’t mean anything, didn’t change anything.
“It’s because you don’t know Scott as well,” she managed. “He’s fun too, you’ll see.” She glanced at her sister. “But please don’t tell him we saw Wade, okay?”
“Why not?”
“It’s … complicated,” April said, hating the word. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“But you hurt Wade’s feelings,” Emily pointed out. “He felt sorry we wouldn’t stay, I could tell.”
Yeah, April could tell too. “Please don’t say anything, okay?”
“You guys were gone a long time,” Scott observed as they came in the kitchen door. He was still at the table, his books and papers fanned out around his laptop. Trevor slouched on a barstool, finishing off a cheese sandwich.
“We stopped for ice cream,” April said. She shot a glance at Emily but her little sister’s face was one of perfect innocence.
“Where’d you go?” Trevor broke in quickly.
“Big C’s,” Emily said.
“And you didn’t bring me anything? I love that place,” Trevor moaned.
“You love any place with food,” April retorted. She held out her cup. “Here, you can have mine. Mint chocolate chip and it’s more than half full.”
Trevor took the shake and April drew a chair to Scott’s side. “Where’s Ben?”
“Donna’s here, I think he’s taking a nap,” Scott replied.
“How’s the paper going?”
He sighed. “Pretty good. Still lots of work to do.”
“This is Christmas vacation, did you forget?” she trailed her fingers up his arm.
“Sometimes … yes,” he said with a smile and leaned in to give her a quick kiss. She felt guilty. It didn’t matter that Emily was there or they had been in a public place. Scott would not like it if he knew she’d been with Wade, and that should have been reason enough to stay away from him. Instead, she’d practically jumped at the chance to close the distance between them.
“Oh gross,” Trevor howled. “What’s this?” He held up a spoonful of the green ice cream, a brown glob nestled in the center.
“Calm down, it’s breading. I was dipping onion rings,” April said.
Scott gave her a quizzical look. “Onion rings? In mint chocolate chip?”
“It’s good, you should try it.”
“No thanks,” he said with a shudder.
“It never tastes quite as good anywhere else as it does at Big C’s though,” April mused. “Did you have somewhere like that at your high school?”
“Somewhere like what?”
“A place where everyone gathered outside of school. Around here, Friday nights almost always ended at Big C’s. We’d go in a big group and hang out, play the jukebox, eat lots of French fries. Mr. C. always threatened to kick us out to make room for bigger spending customers, but he never did. I think he liked it.” She smiled.
Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe some of them did. I wasn’t into that sort of thing.”
She picked up his stack of sticky notes and began fiddling with it. “Tell me more about when you were in high school,” she said.
“There’s nothing to tell. It was high school.” He glanced at the computer screen, obviously anxious to get back to work.
“Okay, I just wondered,” she said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
Scott paused. “Why do you care about stuff like that? It’s meaningless.”
“Because we’re going to be married,” she said, her voice coming out strained. Trevor and Emily exchanged uneasy glances and slipped out of the room.
“Shouldn’t we know everything about each other?” April asked Scott.
“No,” he scoffed. “That’s totally unrealistic. Married people don’t have to share everything.”
She had never thought her husband would want to keep secrets from her. Of course, in the past the word husband meant Wade and she knew practically everything about him already. But Scott obviously didn’t intend to make himself an open book. Yes, it was only high school memories, but were there other things he wanted to keep private?
“You’re upset,” Scott ducked his head to peer at her face.
“A little,” she admitted. “Why don’t you want to share memories with me?”
“Aren’t you going a little overboard? I mean, what’s next? A list of every Christmas present I’ve ever gotten?”
“Actually, I would like that,” she admitted.
He snorted. “Are you serious? You want to know what I got for Christmas?”
“Well, not everything. But knowing what your favorite presents were as a kid would tell me a lot about you, and it would be fun to know.” She paused. “I want to know what’s important to you. Don’t you want to know what’s important to me?”
“Of course I do. But it doesn’t have to come all at once. You’re completely overreacting.”
April bit her lip and finally nodded. He was right – there would be plenty of time after they were married to exchange stories. They would have their whole lives.
“Don’t forget we’re meeting with the pastor at five,” she said as she stood and set the stack of sticky notes on his textbook.
He nodded and hit a key on the computer to turn off the screensaver.
Chapter 7
The Snow Valley Community Church was a semi-imposing stone building with a high steeple and a plastic nativity scene on the front lawn. Pastor John was waiting for them and after a ro
und of introductions, they settled into chairs across from his battered wooden desk.
“So …” the pastor sat back in his chair and gave them a smile. “April is getting married.”
“Yes, and we hope to get married here, if we can,” April shot a glance at Scott. They still hadn’t agreed on location.
“I’d be honored,” Pastor John replied. “Do you have a date?”
“Not yet,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. Maybe they should have waited to schedule a meeting until the basics were decided.
“Well, there will be time to plan the wedding after the holidays,” the pastor said smoothly. He gave them a long, searching look. “Tell me more. How did you meet?”
April gave him the abbreviated version of their romance. They met in the fall, at the beginning of the semester. Scott worked in the math lab and she had been overwhelmed by a difficult statistics class right off the bat. After guiding her through her homework for the fifth Saturday in a row, he’d asked her out.
“We’ve been together ever since,” she finished and Scott squeezed her hand.
“Congratulations,” Pastor John said. “Getting engaged is such an exciting event. But marriage won’t always be exciting, you know that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Scott said.
“It won’t just be fancy dresses and flowers … and it’s not going to be just about the wedding night, or the nights that come after.” His gaze moved from one to the other and April blushed. “Have you taken the time to learn about each other? Scott, have you learned about April’s background and family and childhood and evaluated how all those things molded her into the person she is today as well as influence the person she will become?”
Scott’s face hardened. “That’s part of the reason we’re here for Christmas,” he said.
“What about you, April? Have you taken the time to learn those things about Scott?”
Her mind was whirling. Their romance had progressed quickly, but she didn’t think it was too fast. They loved each other; getting married was the next step in their relationship. But the way Pastor John made it sound, they still had a long way to go.
“I … I’m learning those things,” she finally stammered.
Feels Like Love Page 5
