Fragile Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 4)

by Amber Kelly

  “Of course. I know I sprang this on you. I’ll have my secretary email you over the job offer with all the specifics. Take the weekend to look over the paperwork and let me know your decision by Monday.”

  “I’ll do that. And, Dr. Singh? Thank you for believing in me,” I say before I hang up.

  This is unexpected. I should be elated, but I’m not.

  I send Elle a text, telling her I need a bestie night with her and Sonia, stat.

  Bellamy

  Elle and Sonia are at my doorstep within the hour.

  I tell them about Brandt avoiding me and about my phone call with Dr. Singh.

  After a couple of mugs of cocoa with extra marshmallows, we decide that I should talk to Brandt and find out why he suddenly went radio silent before I make any decision regarding Denver.

  “Tackle one issue at a time. Then, you’ll have all the facts before you make any life-altering plans. Either way, you know we have your back,” Sonia encourages.

  “Do you want me to call Brandt? He might confide in me,” Elle asks.

  “No, I appreciate the offer, but I’m a big girl, and I can talk to him myself. It’s not like we had any commitment to each other or anything. We were growing closer. At least, I thought we were. I just don’t know what happened for him to do a one-eighty like that, and to be honest, I didn’t realize how I’d been growing attached to him until he disappeared from my life,” I tell them.

  “Whatever it is, I think he’ll come around. You know I adore him, but he was so closed off. He is different with you. It’s like you opened a jar that was shut too tightly. We all tried to open it, but all we could do was wiggle it loose a little. You came along and twisted it right off.”

  “Well, I think someone has screwed it back on,” I tell her.

  “Just give him a chance to explain,” she says

  Elle makes me reach out to him before they leave.

  I call his phone and leave him a message. “Hi, it’s Bellamy. I know you’re busy, but I really would like to see you. Have a conversation about us at least. You know, like grown-ups or something. Please call or text me when you get this.”

  He doesn’t get back to me until hours later, and when he does, it’s a text.

  I’ll be escorting Mom to the party tomorrow night. Are you available afterward? We could come back to the clinic and chat.

  Back to the clinic and chat?

  I guess if that is the best I’m going to get, I’ll take it, so I’ll get the chance to tell him to his face exactly what a jerk he is.

  Works for me.

  I send the reply and throw my phone on the nightstand.

  Men think we are the frustrating ones. At this point, I’m thinking a nunnery is a good career choice.

  “Where are you?” Elle asks over the line as I make my way to Rustic Peak the next day.

  “I’m about a half-mile away,” I tell her.

  “Hurry, please. Aunt Doe is a wreck. I think she is cracking under the pressure,” she whispers into the phone.

  “I’ll be there in five.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  The line goes dead, and I press the gas and rush to Elle’s aid.

  I pull up to the house ten minutes later and hurry inside.

  “Are you two ready to go?” I call as I walk through to the kitchen.

  Aunt Doreen is fluttering about. She is taking her responsibility for getting Elle to her “surprise” engagement party very seriously.

  “Where’s Elle?” I ask as I walk over and pluck a muffin from the basket on the counter.

  “She’s still getting ready. She came out here in jeans and a T-shirt. I had to make up something on the spot to get her to change clothes because I know she’ll want to look nice in the pictures from her party,” she rattles off nervously.

  “What did you tell her?” I ask around a mouthful of blueberry crumble.

  “I told her I wanted us all to get fancied up for dinner. Oh, now, I have to go find something fancified to put on too. I don’t have anything fancy. Why did I say that? It doesn’t even make sense. This is why I don’t lie. I’m so bad at it. You girls never should have trusted me to be the one to get her there. Do you think she’s suspicious?”

  She is a flustered mess.

  “You always look nice, Aunt Doe. I think what you are wearing is fine, and I doubt she suspects a thing,” I reassure her.

  She looks down at her light-purple blouse that has tiny yellow flowers all over it and her tan dress pants, and she frowns. “But I wear this all the time. Do you think I should change, so she buys it?”

  I look up at her. “No?” It comes out as a question instead of an answer.

  “You’re right. I should change. I’ll put on my chocolate-brown blouse, switch to my nice dress shoes, and put on my pearls. Maybe add on some blush,” she says more to herself than me as she hurries out of the kitchen.

  Five minutes later, and Elle walks in, wearing a pink maxi dress with drop shoulders, and her makeup is flawless.

  I whistle.

  “She made me change clothes and do my face,” she whispers and rolls her eyes. Then, she looks around. “Where did she go?”

  “She’s upstairs, putting on a fancier blouse and shoes, so you don’t catch on to her tricks,” I say on a grin.

  She smiles. “She’s really falling for it.”

  “Yep. Hook, line, and sinker. She’s a nervous wreck,” I agree.

  I look down at my phone.

  “We have to get her out of here, so Jefferson, Emmett, and Pop can get ready and beat us there,” I tell her.

  “I know. How was I supposed to guess she’d make me change? It threw us behind.”

  We hear footfalls coming down the stairs in the living room and hurry to meet her.

  I elbow Elle, and she clears her throat.

  “Don’t you look nice?” she praises her aunt as she makes it to the landing.

  “You think so?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and Bells just called her momma to tell her to put on a nice blouse and shoes too. Look at us, getting all dressed up for girls’ evening out. How fun!” Elle says excitedly as she claps her hands.

  “Too much,” I say under my breath on a fake cough.

  “Um, let’s get this show on the road. I’m starving.” Elle hurries us out the door.

  “I’ll drive,” I offer, and we head over to my Mustang and climb in.

  We get about twenty minutes up the road when Doreen’s phone chimes with a text. I watch in the mirror as she checks it and bites her lip.

  “Bellamy, I forgot something back at the house. Can we run back real quick?”

  I look over at Elle in confusion, and she gives me a slight shrug.

  “Don’t we have reservations?” I ask her.

  “Yes, but I’ll let them know we are running a tad late. I have a little something for your mother I meant to bring with us, and absentminded me forgot it,” she says.

  “Okay.” I give in and turn around, heading back for Rustic Peak.

  We pass by Jefferson’s truck.

  “Hey, isn’t that Uncle Jefferson?” Elle asks. “I wonder where he and Emmett could be headed to.”

  “Oh, who knows? They probably didn’t want to eat what Ria made for dinner,” Doreen says on a nervous laugh.

  Like that’s a plausible explanation.

  Once we pull in, Doreen opens her door.

  “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she says before attempting to climb out. “Oh, fiddle. I don’t know how you girls get in and out of these ole, low cars,” she mutters as she heaves herself out of the Mustang.

  Once she is inside, Elle pulls her phone out and starts to type. Then, she snickers.

  “Dottie was running late with the cake, so they texted Aunt Doreen to tell her to stall,” she explains.

  “Oh my, she is sweating like a groom the night before the wedding. The woman is going to have a heart attack before we even make it to her party. And nice move, pointing out Jefferson’s truck
. She went completely white.”

  Elle giggles. “I know. I’m having so much fun with this.”

  The door opens, and Doreen comes out, carrying a wrapped box. Who knows what she found to wrap up at the last minute?

  Once she settles back in, we are off again.

  We swing by Stoney Ridge and pick up my momma, and then we finally make it to the party venue. We pile out of the car, and Doreen grabs her wrapped gift and falls into line behind us.

  As we approach the front of the building, Elle slows and tries her best to get her aunt to move out in front of her, so she can walk through the door first, but Doreen keeps slowing down even further. It’s comical. At this rate, it’s going to take us another thirty minutes just to make it in from the car to the door.

  Elle finally gives up and trots up the steps with Momma, Doreen, and me in tow.

  “Are you sure we’re at the right place, Aunt Doreen? It looks awfully dark in there,” Elle asks, and I try not to laugh.

  Doreen turns her panicked eyes to me. “I’m positive. It must just be dark curtains,” she mumbles, and I can see the beads of nervous sweat at her brow.

  I give her a reassuring wink, and as soon as Elle reaches for the door, I hear the bubble of excitement escape Doreen’s throat as she braces for everyone to jump out and yell, Surprise, at Elle.

  Instead, the room stays dark and quiet.

  “Hello?” Elle says, walking deeper inside. “No one is here,” she calls back over her shoulder.

  Doreen walks up, confused, and peers into the door.

  “What’s … hello!” she says, and her voice cracks.

  Two seconds later, the lights flicker on.

  Elle turns quickly on her heels among everyone, and we all shout, “Gotcha, Doe!”

  She stumbles back a step into me, and I whisper, “Happy birthday, Aunt Doreen.”

  She looks at me in shock and then takes everyone in. The girls are all dressed in poodle skirts and bobby socks, and the guys are in everything from letterman sweaters to leather jackets and white tees. The jukebox in the corner comes to life and starts to play an Elvis Presley song as Emmett comes out, dressed in a greaser outfit with his hair slicked back.

  He takes her hand. “Welcome to your sock hop, sweetheart,” he says on a grin.

  Then, he leads her inside.

  Bellamy

  Doreen is in tears the entire time we are in the restroom, getting into our outfits.

  “You had no clue?” Elle asks as she pulls the crinoline up under her skirt.

  “No! I thought I was distracting you—and doing a horrible job of it.” She sniffles.

  “I can’t believe we were able to get one over on you. You’re the most observant, all-knowing person I know,” I tell her.

  “You guys came up with the perfect ruse.”

  “That was all Bellamy,” Elle admits.

  “Hey, did anyone see Sonia out there?” I ask as I swipe on some red lipstick.

  “Yes, I saw her and Ricky at a table up front. She said she’d be in here in a minute, and she wants you and me to wait for her,” Elle says.

  “Well, girls, how do I look?” Doreen turns in front of the full-length mirror.

  Her short hair is spiked up a little, and she has a sheer handkerchief at her neck tied into a bow. Her short-sleeved cream sweater with a cursive L, for Lancaster, embroidered across the left breast, is tucked into her poodle skirt, and she has on cream socks and a pair of black-and-white saddle shoes.

  “Like a classic fox,” I coo.

  “Oh,” she says and waves away my comment as she blushes.

  “Go on, birthday girl. Go grab your man and get him to twirl you around the dance floor,” Elle encourages.

  She wipes under her eyes one more time before she takes off.

  We are just sliding on our shoes when Sonia comes in with a large black bag.

  “I have gifts,” she squeals.

  She sets the bag at our feet and starts to pull the contents out.

  There are three shiny pink jackets with Pink Ladies on the back.

  “No, you didn’t,” I say as I take one.

  “I sure did.”

  Grease and Grease 2 are our all-time favorites. We have watched them over and over since we were young. I grew up wanting to be Stephanie Zinone.

  “These are the most!” Elle says in her best Patty Simcox voice.

  We all slip into the jackets and a pair of black Wayfarer sunglasses, and then we prance out together.

  Walker starts to whistle as we all turn and pose.

  Sophie snaps a hundred pictures, and then we start to mingle. Brandt and his mom are seated with Pop Lancaster, Ria, Jefferson, and his wife, Madeline. He avoids my eyes as I stop by to say hello to the table.

  “You look adorable, Bellamy,” Miss Elaine gushes.

  “Thank you. You look pretty snazzy yourself.”

  She is dressed in a house dress and pearls à la Lucy Ricardo. Brandt is in jeans, and a white tee with a box rolled up in the sleeve. His hair is mussed, and he looks like a greaser who just had a woman pressed against a muscle car with her hands pulling at it.

  A cry sails through the air, and my eyes follow it. Myer and Dallas are sitting at a table with Beau. Faith is in Dallas’s arms, and she is bouncing her as she tries to carry on a conversation with Faye, her old boss at the diner.

  “Excuse me, but I think my niece is putting out the Auntie, come rescue me distress call,” I say before beelining to my sister-in-law and relieving her of the baby.

  Elle and Sonia join me in fawning all over her in her tiny onesie with a poodle on the left corner and a pink tutu.

  We are all on the floor, dancing Faith around, when Ricky comes and tugs Sonia to the side.

  “Scott texted, and everyone is there. Can we head over now?”

  “What?” Sonia asks, confused.

  “It’s Saturday. I told them we’d be over after we popped in here for a few minutes,” he says like she should have known.

  “We’re not leaving, Ricky. I did a lot of prepping and helped plan this party for Doreen. A woman who practically helped raise me. I want to stay.”

  He shrugs. “Suit yourself. Find a way home. I figure the game will run late tonight,” he says before walking away.

  Sonia follows him. I hand the baby off to my mom, and Elle and I go with her.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” she shouts after him once we are in the hallway.

  He turns. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  “I spend every Friday and Saturday night doing what you want to do, with the people you want to do it with. I barely get to see my own friends anymore. I ask for you to come with me this one time, and you are bailing to go drink beer and play cards at your friend’s smoky trailer, like we do every other freaking weekend?”

  “Yeah. I came here and made an appearance for you, and now, I’m bored.”

  “Bored? There is food and a dance floor and an open bar, for goodness’ sake,” she screams at him.

  “I ate. I had a whiskey. I don’t like to dance. You know this.”

  “You are the worst. Do you know that? I keep making excuses for you and doing everything I can to keep you happy, and you do absolutely nothing to make sure I am. You make no effort with my friends. You make no effort for me. I thought if I just hung in there and gave us time, then things would get better, but you don’t want better. You’re completely content with the way things are. Content with your wife crying herself to sleep most nights. Content with embarrassing me in front of the whole town.”

  He just rolls his eyes at her words.

  “Do you even love me anymore, Ricky? Did you ever love me?”

  “Of course I love you. But that doesn’t mean I have to love these people. I didn’t marry them. I married you.”

  “Yes, you kind of did. Because they are part of me. A big part, and if you hate them, then you hate a big part of me. That might be fine for you, but that’s not the life I want.”r />
  His phone chimes, and he looks down at it.

  “We’ll talk about this later. I’ve got to go,” he says before walking out the door.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I say to Elle as we watch Sonia run to the restroom in tears.

  I should go after her, but my legs carry me to the exit, and I chase after her good-for-nothing husband.

  “I cannot believe you,” I screech as I follow Ricky out into the parking lot.

  He stops and turns to face me as Elle makes it to my back.

  “Don’t you think you need to stay and work things out with your wife?” I ask.

  “Why don’t you go and soothe her hurt feelings, Bellamy? You’re so damn good at it after all,” he spits at me.

  “It’s not my job to clean up after you.”

  “Could have fooled me. Every time we have a disagreement, she runs straight to you two.”

  “That’s because we actually give a damn about her and her happiness. All you care about is yourself. She is one of the most beautiful, generous, kind, and selfless people on this planet, and she deserves so much more than you, but for some reason, she loves your sorry ass. So, we bite our tongues, and we try to be as happy for her as we can. We don’t bad-mouth you or tell her how we truly feel about you. But I’m done with that shit now. You are a pathetic loser who mistreats her and takes advantage of her generosity and forgiving heart. You use pretty words and hollow promises to manipulate her, and that’s over now.

  “You have a good woman, Ricky, and you should be kissing the ground she walks on for blessing you with her love. If you can’t see that, then hit the road. She’ll be fine because we’ve got her. We have had her, had each other, through every heartbreak, disappointment, and moments of grief for the last twenty years. Men have come and gone in all our lives, but we are a constant and always will be. If you don’t like that, tough shit because we aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Whatever. You’re a bunch of loudmouth bitches, and you can have each other,” he says before he turns on his heel and walks toward the car Sonia bought and paid for.

  I lose it. I bolt off the deck and straight for him.