Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set

by Rebecca Belliston

  By the speed of her step, she was determined to beat him around the pond.

  “This yellow shirt’s definitely out,” he started. “No offense. There are the sweats, and though they’re sexy in their own way, they’re not exactly wedding clothes. We could force Jenna to give you back the purple thing, but don’t be fooled. Oliver will like you better in the blue.” He looked her over head to toe, picturing the way her eyes would pop with her mom’s blouse, plus the femininity it added to her few curves. He nodded. “Definitely the blue.”

  “You’re the strangest person I know,” she said.

  “That’s not sayin’ much considering the number of people you associate with.”

  “True. Thank you for your bizarre attempt at helping me,” she said, “but if you don’t mind, I’d rather we stopped talking altogether. Quite frankly, I don’t think fishing is a good idea anymore either.”

  He didn’t argue. He had enough ammunition on Carrie to last a lifetime.

  Greg trailed her as she finished her fast trek around the pond. She resorted to her former self, a conversational recluse. Several times she shook her head but never shared her thoughts. That was okay. He could be patient.

  Sort of.

  In her backyard, he tried one last time. Jumping in front of her, he forced her to stop. “I’m not leavin’ ‘til you tell me one thing you find attractive about me. C’mon, Carrie. I’m dyin’ of curiosity.”

  “Your mouth,” she said without hesitation.

  “My mouth? Really?”

  An odd thing.

  “Yes.” She smiled curtly. “But only when it’s shut.”

  He chuckled. Carrie was definitely growing on him. “I’ll try to remember that next time. Thanks for the enlightening conversation.”

  Without acknowledging him, she headed up her lawn. As she reached the stairs, Zach flew out onto their deck.

  “Carrie? Where were you? I was lookin’ for—Hey, Greg!” Zach called, spotting him in the yard. “Why are you here? Where were you guys? Can I come?”

  “I was just teaching Carrie how to fish,” Greg said.

  “Really? Is it hard? Can I learn?” Zach asked. “I promise to be real quiet.”

  Carrie rushed past Zach and was to the kitchen door when Greg said loudly, “Sure, but I’m gonna need my fishing pole. Run on back to my house and grab mine, would ya?”

  Carrie whirled around and stared at him.

  Grinning, he tipped his Yankees hat. “See you at the wedding. Try the fish.”

  forty

  CARRIE SCANNED THE FLOWER arrangements scattered throughout May’s house. She had scoured every yard in the neighborhood for remnants of pre-Collapse flowers. Now May’s front room looked beautiful. It smelled even better, like spring itself. She stood back to make sure the colors looked balanced. Whenever she got married—if she ever got married, which more and more wasn’t looking promising—she was going to insist on a spring wedding. The flowers were unparalleled.

  “Put the daffodils over there,” she said to Amber, “by the ones I gave Mariah.”

  May came into the living room and clapped her hands. “Oh, Carrie! They’re absolutely breathtaking. It’s going to be a perfect day!”

  May obviously hadn’t looked outside. It had started snowing just after lunch. Carrie could already hear Greg. What do you mean it’s snowin’? It’s April! So much for Mariah’s outdoor wedding. But Carrie wasn’t about to spoil the mood.

  “It is going to be perfect,” she agreed happily.

  As May wandered around the room, inspecting her hard work, Amber nudged Carrie. “Can I go?” Amber whispered.

  Carrie held up a finger.

  “Look at all that yellow. Are those forsythias?” May said, squinting to make out the branches. Even with thick glasses, her vision was horrible. “And what are those pink ones?”

  “Weeping peaches,” Carrie said, thrilled she had noticed. “Technically they aren’t blossoming yet, but I put the branches in warm water last night to force the blooms. It’s a trick my mom taught me.”

  “Brilliant. Just brilliant. Everything is so beautiful just like you girls,” May added.

  Amber rolled her eyes, but Carrie gave May a hug. She had missed her dear friend, missed her simple enthusiasm and adoration.

  “There’s one more thing.” Carrie crossed the room to the kitchen and held up the cup which held pure white hyacinth, her favorite find of the day. She’d found them in the Ziegler’s yard right before the snow started. They were hidden behind a severely overgrown bush, but somehow they had survived neglected the last five years. Hyacinth had such delicate flowers, like a hundred brilliant white stars. The fact that they only bloomed two weeks of the year made it a miracle they were ready today.

  “These are for Mariah’s bouquet,” Carrie said. A token of the white dress she didn’t have. “They’re already wrapped in a wet cloth so just hand them to her before the ceremony.”

  That’s when May started to cry. Happy tears, but still.

  Carrie hugged her. “It’s okay. Today is going to be perfect.”

  “I know.” May sniffed twice and then brightened. “Now, it’s my turn to show off. You’ll never believe how Mariah’s dress turned out. It doesn’t even look like it was mine with the way it fits her. Come here.”

  As May tugged them forward, Amber shook her head furiously. Carrie had no idea why Amber was in such a hurry to leave. The wedding wasn’t until dinner. They had plenty of time to get ready. Carrie snagged Amber’s arm and dragged her behind May.

  “I can’t believe you did all that stitching by hand,” Carrie said. “How long did it take you to—”

  Carrie stopped mid-sentence as May opened the last bedroom door. Greg sat on a mattress on the floor next to his mom. Their quiet conversation ended abruptly as they looked up. The second Greg spotted Carrie, he broke into another mischievous smile. He was gloating. Still. But worse, Mariah’s smile matched her son’s. Who knew what Greg was telling his mom now—or what his mom was saying in return.

  Carrie backed up into Amber.

  “Don’t mind us,” May said, walking to Mariah’s closet. “The girls want to see your dress.”

  “Oh, it turned out just lovely,” Mariah said. “You’ll hardly believe it.”

  Carrie entered the room but just barely. She could feel Greg’s eyes on her, and the most horrible thought occurred to her. If she’d said yes to his outrageous plan, would they be getting married today, too? A double wedding?

  “Carrie,” Amber whispered. “I have to go.”

  Carrie grabbed her hand in a vice-like grip. “Stay.” She needed all the people she could fit in that all-too-small room.

  Amber shook her head vigorously. “I can’t. I have to go to all the houses. I have to tell everyone before the wedding.”

  “Tell them what?” Carrie asked.

  Amber’s dark eyes filled with tears. Instead of answering, she turned to the others.

  “Hey, May and Mariah. I have something to tell you. It’s about the night of the raid.”

  Carrie stared in dismay. “No, Amber. Don’t.”

  A few tears spilled down Amber’s cheeks, but she smiled. “I have to.” Turning, she said, “The raid was my fault. Carrie didn’t hear the day of the raid wrong. I did. And I want to say how sorry I am. I’m a huge coward for not saying it sooner.”

  May froze, holding the lavender dress, Mariah’s eyes darted from Carrie to Amber and back again, but Greg nodded as if to say, It’s about time.

  “I’m sorry for being so selfish, Carrie. I’m sorry everyone hated you because of me.” Then Amber threw her arms around her neck. “You’re the best sister in the world.”

  Carrie barely had time to return the hug before Amber broke free. She took off down the hall, running toward the front room.

  No one else moved. They stared at Carrie, waiting for an explanation.

  “Excuse me,” she whispered, and then she rushed after Amber. “Amber, wait!”
/>   Amber was already outside, snow swirling her dark hair. “No. It’s okay,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. “I can do this, Carrie. I need to.” Then she took off through the slushy snow.

  * * * * *

  Amber purposely saved the Zieglers for last. She’d been crying for the last half hour, and she was grateful for the spring blizzard. She pressed her frozen fingers to her burning eyes.

  Most people had been too stunned to say anything. Sasha had been nice enough to give her a hug. The only house she’d been afraid of was the Kovach’s, but she forced herself to go anyway. Luckily Little Jeffrey answered the door. Amber snuck in and told Jenna on the couch without seeing Jeff. Jenna was too sick to care. So that left one more house.

  The most important one.

  She stood on the Ziegler’s porch, frozen to the bone. Her long hair was damp and stiff as it flapped around her face. Braden had probably already told his parents how evil she was, but she still wanted them to hear it from her. She wasn’t scared. Right was right, regardless of the consequences. She shivered. It had to be from the cold because she wasn’t scared. She wasn’t.

  Maddie answered the door. “Hi, Amber. I thought you’d be—Whoa. Are you crying?”

  “Hey, Maddie,” Amber said. “Can I talk to your mom?”

  “Yeah. Are you sure?” Maddie knew how much her mom didn’t like her. But she must have seen the determination in Amber’s eyes. “Okay. Come on in.”

  Amber caught a glimpse of Braden in the living room. His perfect turquoise eyes widened in surprise. She quickly turned back before his expression turned to hatred and broke her heart all over again.

  “Actually,” Amber said, “I’ll wait here.”

  As Maddie left to find her mom, Amber stepped back onto the porch and closed the door. The snow hit her face and melted into numbing streams. That got her knees shaking, so she shoved her hands in her coat pockets and locked every muscle. She could freeze to death later. Not now. It made her look scared. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t.

  When Mrs. Ziegler opened the door, she took in the sight of Amber, wet, frozen, and red-eyed.

  “Oh my word, Amber! What happened?”

  Amber smiled through her chattering teeth. “Hi, Mrs. Ziegler. Can you come outside for a minute? There’s something I need to tell you. Oh, and can you shut the door?”

  forty-one

  CARRIE SPOTTED AMBER RUNNING up the sidewalk. She flung open the door.

  “What on earth are you doing? Are you crazy?” Carrie threw a blanket over her insanely wet sister who, for some reason, was grinning ear to ear. “You’re frozen.”

  “I did it,” Amber said, breathless. “No more hiding. No more Careless Carries. I did it!”

  Carrie started to smile. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Totally.” Amber looked around. “Is Zach out of the bath yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  The two sisters raced upstairs. Amber pounded on the bathroom door. “Time’s up, Zach! Get out.” Her lips were tinged blue, and shivers racked her body. Carrie rubbed her arms through the blanket.

  “The water has been sitting in the tub all day,” Carrie said, “but it’s still cold. Do you want me to heat up some water? You’re going to catch pneumonia if you bathe now.”

  “With what wood?” Amber said.

  Carrie frowned, remembering that Jeff hadn’t delivered any wood since Greg had punched him. She’d hoped the snow today would soften Jeff’s anger. No such luck.

  “I’ll be fine.” Amber pounded the door again. “Zach! Come on!”

  “I’m coming!” he yelled back. “Geez!”

  Amber continued to bounce up and down on her toes, whether to keep warm or from excitement, Carrie couldn’t tell.

  “Braden smiled at me,” Amber said.

  Excitement then.

  “After his mom went back inside, he looked at me and actually smiled. And guess what?” Amber continued in a rush. “Mrs. Ziegler already knew the raid was my fault. She’s known the whole time.”

  “How?” Carrie asked.

  “They live next door to Jenna, so she saw you go there before Oliver showed up that day. That’s why she’s been so mad at me. She knew it was my fault. She was so happy I told her.”

  “And you’re okay with all this?” Carrie asked in amazement.

  Amber nodded faster than Carrie had ever seen anyone nod. “Just freezing. Come on, Zach! My hair’s never going to dry in time.”

  If Amber’s hair wasn’t going to dry, Carrie had no hope whatsoever. But she couldn’t skip the bath. Her hair and body desperately needed washing. Not only would Oliver be at the wedding, but so would—

  She caught herself in time.

  Oliver.

  Just Oliver.

  “Come on, Zach!” Carrie yelled, rapping on the door. She had a date to get to.

  Maybe.

  Amber put her mouth to the door. “Zach, if you don’t come out right now, I swear I’ll come in there. I don’t care what I see.”

  Carrie heard quick shuffling, and the door flew open. Zach came out in a shaggy towel with his hair plastered to his head. “Girls are such a pain,” he said. “You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be the only man of the house.”

  “Man?” Amber scoffed. “You use that term loosely.”

  Though Zach was barely thirteen, he’d recently hit a growth spurt. He stood eye to eye with Amber. He rocked forward, coming nose to nose with her as well. “You wanna say that again?”

  Someone knocked the clan signal on the front door downstairs.

  “Sure,” Amber said, not hearing. “You use that term—”

  Carrie shoved her hands over their mouths. “Stop it, you guys. Someone’s here. Zach, put on some clothes. Amber, please try to remember that I’m waiting.”

  Carrie ran down the stairs, hoping it was Jeff finally delivering their wood. Or—her muscles tensed—he’d come to take out his anger on Amber, the real cause of the raid. Or on Carrie for lying all this time.

  She skidded to a stop on the bottom step.

  It wasn’t Jeff.

  Greg peeked through the side window. He waved at her with another stupid grin. Probably back to ask more humiliatingly intrusive questions.

  Why can’t he leave me alone?

  She was tempted to turn back around, but he’d already spotted her.

  She opened the door and forced herself to smile like the mature adult she was. “Hi, Greg. What can I help you with?”

  He dropped a pile of wood on her porch. It landed with a thud.

  She stared. “How did you know?”

  “What do you mean? I know everything,” he said.

  “We were fine, but thank you. That was nice.” Very, very nice. They wouldn’t freeze tonight after all. “I’ll see you in a little bit.” She started to push the door shut, but his foot flew in, propping the door open.

  “Actually, I’ve got a favor to ask—or rather, I thought I’d do you a favor.” He rubbed his wet hair. “I thought I’d give you an excuse to run your fingers through my hair since I know you’ve been wantin’ to.”

  “What?” she said.

  “I forget that kinda thing never works with you. Let me try it in your language.” Clearing his throat, he dropped his southern accent. “My dear mother hates my hair this long and would like me to look presentable on this, her wedding day. Would you, sweet woman, please provide me a service and cut my atrociously long hair?”

  “Cut your…” Her eyes lifted to his wet mop. “I can’t cut your hair!”

  “You cut Zach’s just fine. Besides, it’s either that or do what I usually do and shave it bald. However, I’m a tad worried my mom’ll kill me if I show up bald to her wedding.”

  Greg’s hair had been nearly buzzed when he’d first shown up in Illinois. It had grown out some since then, which meant it lay down nicely now. Plenty of the men had hair longer than that. Plenty! Plus, he wore his baseball hat most of the time anyway. He
didn’t need a haircut.

  Desperate, she looked around. By some miracle, she pulled an excuse out of thin air.

  “I’m sorry, Greg. I don’t have any scisso—”

  He whipped out something from his pocket. Something metallic. “Nice try.”

  She gaped at him. He held Jenna’s scissors. “How did you get those? I thought the Kovachs hate you.”

  “They do. That’s why I got Dylan to steal them for me, which is why I need you to cut my hair. So are you ready, or do you have more excuses for me to shoot down?”

  She made the mistake of glancing up again. His hair was wet from the snow, turning it nearly black. She shook her head adamantly. There was no way she was touching Greg’s hair. None.

  “Actually, I really need to wash my hair,” she said lamely.

  “Wow, haven’t heard that one in a while.” He pushed the scissors toward her. “C’mon. It’s for my mom. It’ll be a wedding present from both of us.”

  “Please no,” she whispered.

  “Please yes. Besides…” He kicked the wood lightly. “You owe me.”

  Guilt. His favorite weapon.

  “Fine,” she said, “but no wise cracks, and you can’t shoot me if I mess it up.”

  “Don’t worry. If it’s that bad, I’ll shave it off when you’re done.”

  “Is that supposed to make me more or less nervous?”

  “Less, but if you like I can keep my mouth shut now. Especially since I know you like it better that way.”

  He grinned.

  She groaned.

  Ushering himself inside, he stomped his feet on her old welcome mat. “So…where do you wanna do this?”

  Carrie followed him into her kitchen, still working on how to get out of the haircut. Not only was it too awkward, too familiar, but he was the vainest person she knew—women included. If she cut one strand wrong, he’d never let her live it down.

  “Man, your house could freeze salt water,” he said. “I can’t believe Jeff hasn’t brought you any wood. Why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner? Oh, wait. ‘Cause you’re Carrie, right?”