by Annie Rains
Chapter Seven
On Monday afternoon, Paris looked out over the roomful of students. Everyone had their eyes on their screens and were learning to Skype. But his attention was on the librarian on the other side of the building.
When he’d driven to the library, he’d lectured himself on why he needed to back away from Lacy Shaw. Sunday’s lunch had made that crystal clear in his mind. She was smart and beautiful, the kind of woman who valued family. Paris had no idea what it even meant to have a family. He couldn’t be the kind of guy she needed.
Luckily, Lacy hadn’t even been at the counter when he’d walked in and continued toward the computer room. She was probably hell-bent on avoiding him. For the best.
“Does everyone think they can go home and Skype now?” Paris asked the class.
“I can, but no one I know will know how to Skype with me,” Greta said.
Janice Murphy nodded beside her.
“Well, you could all exchange information and Skype with each other,” Paris suggested.
“Can we Skype with you?” Alice asked.
Warmness spread through his chest. “Anytime, Alice.”
“Can I Skype you if my wife doesn’t want to talk to me?” Mr. Jenson asked. “To practice so I’m ready when she does?”
Paris felt a little sad for the older man. When Paris had been a boy in their home, they’d been the happiest of couples. “Of course. If I’m home and free, I’ll always make time to Skype with any one of you,” he told the group, meaning it. They’d had only a few classes, but he loved the eclectic bunch in this room.
When class was over, he walked over to Mr. Jenson. “I can give you a ride home if you want.”
Mr. Jenson gave him an assessing stare. “If you think I’m climbing on the back of that bike of yours, you’re crazy.”
Paris chuckled. “I drove my truck today. It’ll save you a walk. I have the afternoon free too. I can take you by the nursing home facility to see Mrs. Jenson if you want. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.”
Mr. Jenson continued to stare at him. “Why would you do that? I know I’m not that fun to be around.”
Paris clapped a gentle hand on Mr. Jenson’s back. “That’s not true. I kind of like being around you.” He always had. “And I could use some company today. Agreeing would actually be doing me a favor.”
“I don’t do favors,” the older man said. “But my legs are kind of hurting, thanks to the chairs in there. So walking home would be a pain.”
Paris felt relieved as Mr. Jenson relented. “What about visiting Mrs. Jenson? I’ll stay in the truck while you go in, and take as long as you like.” Paris patted his laptop bag. “I have my computer, so I can work while I wait.”
Mr. Jenson begrudgingly agreed and even smiled a little bit. “Thank you.”
Paris led Mr. Jenson into his truck and started the short drive toward Sweetwater Nursing Facility.
“She sometimes tells me to leave as soon as I get there,” Mr. Jenson said as they drove.
“Why is that?”
Mr. Jenson shrugged. “She says she doesn’t want me to see her that way.”
Paris still wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with Mrs. Jenson. “What way?”
“Oh, you know. Her emotions are as unstable as her walking these days. That’s why she’s not home with me. She’s not the same Nancy I fell in love with, but she’s still the woman I love. I’ll always love her, no matter how things change.”
“That’s what love is, isn’t it?” Paris asked.
Mr. Jenson turned to look out the passenger side window as they rode. “We never had any kids of our own. We fostered a few, and that was as close as we ever got to having a family.”
Paris swallowed painfully.
“There was one boy who was different. We would’ve kept him. We bonded and loved him as our own.”
Paris glanced over. Was Mr. Jenson talking about him? Probably not, but Paris couldn’t help hoping that he was. “What happened?”
“We wanted to raise him as part of our family, but it didn’t work out that way. He went back to his real parents, which I suppose is always best. I lost him, and now, most days, I’ve lost my wife too. That’s what love is. Painful.”
Paris parked and looked over. “Well, maybe today will be different. Whatever happens, I’ll be in the truck waiting for you.”
Mr. Jenson looked over and chuckled, but Paris could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he appreciated the sentiment. He stepped out of the truck and dipped his head to look at Paris in the driver’s seat. “Some consolation prize.”
* * *
Two nights later, Lacy sat in her living room with a handful of the Ladies’ Day Out members. They’d been waiting for her in the driveway when she’d gotten home from the library and were here for an intervention of sorts.
“Sandwiches?” Greta asked, her face twisting with displeasure.
“Well, when you don’t tell someone that you’re coming, you get PB&J.” Lacy plopped onto the couch beside Birdie, who had no doubt called everyone here.
“You took your online profile down,” Birdie said, reaching for her own sandwich.
“Of course I did. I’m not interested in dating right now.”
“You sure looked interested in Paris Montgomery,” Dawanda said, sitting across from them. “And you two looked so good together. What happened?”
All the women turned to face Lacy.
She shrugged. “My family happened. No offense. You all behaved—mostly,” she told her mom and sisters. “We just decided it’d be best to part ways sooner rather than later.”
Birdie placed her sandwich down. “I thought you were the smart one in the family.”
Rose raised her hand. “No, that was always me.” A wide grin spread on her face. “Just kidding. It’s you, Lacy.”
Birdie frowned. “I was there last weekend. I saw how you two were together. There’s relationship potential there,” she said.
Lacy sighed. “Maybe, but he doesn’t want another relationship. He’s been hurt and…” She shrugged. “I guess he just doesn’t think it’s worth trying again.” That was her old insecurities though so she stopped them all in their tracks. “Actually, something good came out of me going out with him a few times.”
“Oh?” Birdie asked. “What’s that?”
“I’m not afraid to go to my reunion, even if I have to go on my own.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone there. Maybe you’ll find ‘the one,’” Rose said.
“Maybe.” But Lacy was pretty sure she wouldn’t find the one she wanted. He’d already been found and lost.
“I’ll go with you if you need me to,” Josie offered. She wasn’t sitting on the couch with Lacy’s laptop this time. Instead, she held a glass of wine tonight, looking relaxed in the recliner across the room.
“I wonder what people would think about that,” Birdie said.
Lacy shrugged. “You know what, I’ve decided that I don’t care what the people who don’t know me think. I care about what I think. And what you all think, of course.”
“And Paris?” Dawanda asked.
Lacy shook her head, but she meant yes. Paris was right. Her gestures often contradicted what she really meant. “Paris thinks that we should just be friends, and I have to respect that.”
Even if she didn’t like it.
Chapter Eight
Paris was spending his Saturday night in Mr. Jenson’s rosebushes—not at Lacy’s class reunion as he’d planned. He’d clipped the bushes back, pruning the dead ends so that they’d come back stronger.
Over the last couple of days, he’d kept himself super busy with work and taking Mr. Jenson to and from the nursing facility. He’d read up on how to care for rosebushes, but that hadn’t been necessary because Mr. Jenson stayed on the porch barking out instructions like a drill sergeant. Paris didn’t mind. He loved the old man.
“Don’t clip too much off!” Mr. Jenson warned. “Just what’s needed.�
��
“Got it.” Paris squeezed the clippers again and again, until the muscles of his hand were cramping.
Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t kept himself busy enough to keep from thinking about Lacy. She’d waved and said hi to him when he’d gone in and out of the library, but that was all. It wasn’t enough.
He missed her. A lot. Hopefully she was still going to her reunion tonight. He hoped she danced. And maybe there’d be a nice guy there who would dance with her.
Guilt and jealousy curled around Paris’s ribs like the roses on the lattice. He still wanted to be that guy who held her close tonight and watched her shine.
“Done yet?” Mr. Jenson asked gruffly.
Paris wiped his brow and straightened. “All done.”
Mr. Jenson nodded approvingly. “It looks good, son.”
Mr. Jenson didn’t mean anything by calling him son, but it still tugged on Paris’s heartstrings. “Thanks. I’ll come by next week and take you to see Mrs. Jenson.”
“Just don’t expect me to get on that bike of yours,” the older man said for the hundredth time.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” As Paris started to walk away, Mr. Jenson called out to him.
“PJ?”
Paris froze. He hadn’t heard that name in a long time, but it still stopped him in his tracks. He turned back to face Mr. Jenson. “You know?”
Mr. Jenson chuckled. “I’m old, not blind. I’ve known since that first computer class.”
“But you didn’t say anything.” Paris took a few steps, walking back toward Mr. Jenson on the porch. “Why?”
“I could ask you the same. You didn’t say anything either.”
Paris held his hands out to his sides. “I called last year. Mrs. Jenson answered and told me to never call again.”
Mr. Jenson shook his head as he listened. “I didn’t know that, but it sounds about right. She tells me the same thing when I call her. Don’t take it personally.”
Paris pulled in a deep breath and everything he’d thought about the situation shifted and became something very different. They hadn’t turned him away. Mr. Jenson hadn’t even known he’d tried to reconnect.
Mr. Jenson shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants. “I loved PJ. It was hard to lose him…You.” Mr. Jenson cleared his throat and looked off into the distance. “It’s been hard to lose Nancy, memory by memory, too. I guess some part of me didn’t say anything when I realized who you were because I was just plain tired of losing. Sometimes it’s easier not to feel anything. Then it doesn’t hurt so much when it’s gone.” He looked back at Paris. “But I can’t seem to lose you even if I wanted to, so maybe I’ll just stop trying.”
Paris’s eyes burned. He blinked and looked down at his feet for a moment and then back up at the old man. He was pretty sure Mr. Jenson didn’t want to be hugged, but Paris was going to anyway. He climbed the steps and wrapped his arms around his foster dad for a brief time. Then he pulled away. “Like I said, I’ll be back next week, and I’ll take you to go see Mrs. Jenson.”
“See. Can’t push you away. Might as well take you inside with me when I go see Nancy next time. She’ll probably tell you to go away and never come back.”
“I won’t listen,” Paris promised.
“Good.” Mr. Jenson looked relieved somehow. His body posture was more relaxed. “Well, you best get on with your night. I’m sure you have things to do. Maybe go see that pretty librarian.”
Paris’s heart rate picked up. He was supposed to be at Lacy’s side tonight, but while she was bravely facing her fears, he’d let his keep him away. His parents were supposed to love him and stand by him, but they hadn’t. His ex-wife had abandoned him too. He guessed he’d gotten tired of losing just like Mr. Jenson. It was easier to push people away before they pushed him.
But the Jensons had never turned their back on him. They’d wanted him and he wished things had gone differently. Regardless of what happened in the past, it wasn’t too late to reconnect and have what could’ve been now.
As he headed back to his bike, Paris pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for him and Lacy either.
* * *
Lacy looked at her reflection in the long mirror in her bedroom. She loved the dress she’d found at Sophie’s Boutique. She had a matching pair of shoes that complemented it perfectly. Her hair was also done up, and she’d put on just a little bit of makeup.
She flashed a confident smile. “I can do this.”
She took another deep breath and then hurried to get her purse and keys. The reunion would be starting soon, and she needed to leave before she changed her mind. The nerves were temporary, but the memories from tonight would last. And despite her worries, she was sure they’d be good memories.
She grabbed her things and drove to Sweetwater Springs High School where the class reunion was taking place. When she was parked, she sat for a moment, watching her former classmates head inside. They all had someone on their arm. No one was going in alone. Except her.
She imagined walking inside and everyone stopping to stare at her. The mean girls from her past pointing and laughing and whispering among each other. That was the worst-case scenario and probably wasn’t going to happen. But if it did, she’d get through it. She wasn’t a shy kid anymore. She was strong and confident, and yeah, she’d rather have Paris holding her hand, but she didn’t need him to. “I can do this,” she said again.
She pushed her car door open, locked it up, and headed inside. She opened the door to the gymnasium, accosted by the music and sounds of laughter. It wasn’t directed at her. No one was even looking at her. She exhaled softly, scanning the room for familiar faces. When she saw Claire Donovan, the coordinator of the event, standing with Halona Locklear and Brenna McConnell, she headed in that direction. They were always nice to her.
“Lacy!” Brenna exclaimed when she saw her walking over. “It’s so good to see you.” She gave her a big hug, and Lacy relaxed a little more. “Even though we all see each other on a regular basis,” she said once they’d pulled apart.
Lacy hugged the other women as well.
“So you came alone too?” Lacy asked Halona.
“Afraid so. My mom is watching Theo for a few hours. I told her I really didn’t need to come, but she insisted.”
Brenna nodded as she listened to the conversation. “Sounds familiar. Everyone told me that you can’t skip your high school reunion.”
“This is a small town. It’s not like we don’t know where everyone ended up,” Halona said. “Most everyone anyway.”
“Don’t look now,” Summer Rodriquez said, also joining the conversation, “but Carmen Daly is veering this way.”
Lacy’s heart sank. Carmen was the leader of her little pack of mean girls. How many times had Lacy cried in the girls’ bathroom over something Carmen had said or done to make her life miserable?
Lacy subtly stood a little straighter. Her brace was gone, and whatever Carmen dished out, she intended to return.
“Hi, ladies,” Carmen said, looking between them. She was just as beautiful as ever. Lacy knew Carmen didn’t live in Sweetwater Springs anymore. From what Lacy had heard, Carmen had married a doctor and lived a few hours east from here. Her vibrant smile grew sheepish as she looked at Lacy. “Hi, Lacy.”
Every muscle in Lacy’s body tensed. “Hi, Carmen.”
Then Carmen surprised her by stepping forward to give her a hug. For a moment, Lacy wondered if she was sticking a sign on her back like she’d done so long ago. KICK ME. I WON’T FEEL IT.
Carmen pulled back and looked Lacy in the eye while her friends watched. “Lacy, I’ve thought about you so many times over the years. I’m so glad you’re here tonight.”
Lacy swallowed. “Oh?”
“I want to tell you that I’m sorry. For everything. I’m ashamed of the person I was and how I acted toward you. So many times I’ve thought about messaging you on Facebook or emailing
you, but this is something that really needs to be done in person.” Carmen’s eyes grew shiny. “Lacy, I’m so sorry. I mean it.”
Lacy’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things she’d imagined about tonight, this wasn’t one of them. She turned to look at Summer, Brenna, and Halona, whose lips were also parted in shock, and then she looked back at Carmen.
“I’ve tried to be a better person, but the way I behaved in high school has haunted me for the last ten years.”
Lacy reached for Carmen’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you. Looks like we’ve both changed.”
“We grew up.” Carmen shrugged. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Definitely.”
Carmen seemed to relax. “Maybe we can be friends on Facebook,” she said. “And in real life. Maybe a coffee date next time I come home.”
“I’d like that.” Lacy’s eyes burned as she hugged Carmen again and watched her walk over to her husband. Then Lacy turned her back to her friends. “Is there a sign on my back?”
“Nope,” Brenna said. “I think that was sincere.”
Lacy faced them again. “Me too. It was worth coming here tonight just for that.” Someone tapped her shoulder and she spun again, this time coming face-to-face with Paris.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, looking just as sheepish as Carmen had a few minutes earlier.
She noticed that he was dressed in the shirt he purchased from Sophie’s Boutique. “Paris, what are you doing here?”
“Hoping to get a dance with you?” He looked at the dance floor, where a few couples were swaying.
“I…I don’t know,” she said.
Summer put a hand on her back and gave her a gentle push. “No more sitting on the sidelines, Lacy. When a boy asks you to dance, you say yes.”
Lacy took a few hesitant steps, following Paris. Then they stopped and turned to face each other, the music wrapping around them. “Paris”—she shook her head—“you didn’t have to come. As you can see, I didn’t chicken out. I’m here and actually having a great time. I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
