“Oh my gosh, enough!” I say, waving my hands. “I can’t take another bad joke from you today.”
He steps closer, running a thumb on each side, on top of the nude-colored tape. “The level of enthusiasm you have for undergarments renders me speechless right now. How the hell do you get this off without hurting yourself?”
I clear my throat. “Like taking off a bandage. I’d compare it to waxing my legs, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t be able to relate to that as well.”
With his fingernail, he grips the top of the tape at my shoulders, watching me. “Like this?” he asks.
I nod, keeping my gaze locked with his. “One, two, three,” I exclaim. Before he can pull it down, my doorbell rings. He steps back, hands going to button his pants. I slide my arms back into my dress and tell him to wait here for me. Mercer looks irate. The world has been against us today. Begrudgingly, I pull my dress up and over my shoulders.
I open my front door and I’m greeted with my mother’s red face, her fingers twining in her hair, a nervous twitch. “What did you do?”
Stepping back, I move out of her way as she barrels into my personal space. I glance over my shoulder at my bedroom door. It’s closed. “What are you talking about, Mama?”
“You left the festival early with Mercer. You didn’t even stay to help Tannie oversee the clean-up. What’s gotten into you? Have you forgotten your manners completely?”
I drop my chin. “You’re serious. This is why you’re flying off the handle right now?”
“You’re going to leave and not say goodbye to us, aren’t you? I can sense it, Clover. You’re doing this, leaving Greenton, and it’s all his fault. We were content before he breezed into town.”
I hold up one hand. “I haven’t been content for years. It’s my decision. How in the world would it be his fault when he’s going back to war, Mama? I’m not moving anywhere for a man,” I hiss at her, getting more furious as the seconds tick by. I’m sick of not being understood. “Consider this me saying goodbye then. If you’re so worried about me not bidding farewells before I move. This isn’t easy for me and you and Daddy are bent on making it darn near impossible.”
“Well, good!” Mama bursts out, laying a hand on her chest. “I want it to be impossible.” Mercer makes a noise from my bedroom and Mama hears it, cocking her head. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
“Good. That means I’ve finally found myself,” I drawl, motioning to the door. “I have to pack quickly so I can get back to the festival and help Tannie and the volunteer crew clean up. Wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression before I leave town.”
She shakes her head sadly as her chest moves up and down in a harried pace. “This is your home.”
I nod. “It will always be my home, it’s not my life though, Mama. This place isn’t my life. Not like you. Not like other women.” She turns on her heel as tears threaten. I close the door behind her and lock it. “You can come out now, Mercer.”
He walks out, hands in his pockets, gaze trained on the floor. “This expensive mini-mansion has thin walls. I heard it all. Every single word of it. I hate that they think I’m the reason you’re leaving, and I have no clue how to change their opinion on the matter.”
“You know as well as I that no one can change their opinion.” He sits next to me on the couch and takes my hand in his. It’s warm against my cool skin.
“Almost, Clover. You’re close. Right there. Some people say the first step is the hardest, but I challenge that. I think the last step is the hardest, ’cause that’s the step that officially changes everything. Instead of having one foot in each world, you’ve crossed over to the other side.” He shakes his head once. “There’s no going back after the last step. Hometown truths,” he says. “No one will understand and you gotta step anyway.” Mercer drapes an arm around my shoulder.
“I’m going to get changed and then I have to take care of a few things in town. I want to leave as soon as possible.”
Mercer pauses, drumming his thumb on my shoulder. “Are you takin’ the tape off?”
I chuckle. “You want to pull it off for me?”
“Does the Tin Man have a sheet metal cock?” Mercer fires back.
“I don’t know,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
He groans. “He does, Four Leaf Clover. Yes. He’s the Tin-Man. He’s made of sheet metal.”
I shrug, blushing at the adorable nickname mixed into his statement. “If you say so. I prefer does a bear shit in the woods. It’s more traditional. Everyone knows the answer is yes.”
“That’s cliché,” he replies, flashing a satisfied smile. “Let’s get that tape off and get some errands run. We have a long drive tomorrow.” Mercer pauses. “How much stuff will you bring?”
I glance around the lavish living room appointed with beautiful decorations and expensive furniture and sigh. “Not much. As little as possible. Whatever will fit in my car. How much do you have?” He tells me one bag, and I’m confident we’ll be able to fit it all into my car. I don’t have a house in my name, but the car has always been in my name from the get-go. It might be the only thing I technically own. Even the dress on my back was purchased by my mother.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m terrified, Mercer.”
“Clover Wellsley isn’t afraid of anything,” he says. “She’s a force to be reckoned with. I’m going to hop home really quick and give my parents the news. They knew I was planning on leaving a bit early, so it won’t be a shock to them. You’ll be okay by yourself? You can stay at my house tonight and we can leave early in the morning. I’ll come back over to help you load up, just give me a call.”
My heart pounds along at a rapid-fire pace. “Yes. Please,” I say, voice cracking.
Mercer kisses me on my cheek and lets himself out. He forgot to take my tape off.
_______________
I have a Louis Vuitton trunk, two suitcases, and a duffle bag containing everything I think I’ll need, filling my trunk and backseat as I drive to Mercer’s house. I loaded it without his help because I wasn’t able to pack most of my wardrobe, but I won’t need sugar frill dresses in the north. I won’t need most of my old life up there and it’s a thrilling thought. I can be whoever I want. Soon. After I packed, I went to help Tannie and then the shelter. I spent an hour talking to one of the women Winnie took in about a week ago. There was something about her that made me uneasy. The way she watched me while we spoke. Or perhaps it was the questions she was asking.
They weren’t typical questions that women have asked me in the past, but then again, this woman isn’t from Greenton, she’s a nomad. She wouldn’t know who my parents are and why I began the shelter, or where I got a certain dress, or if Sandra in town was my hairdresser. I excused myself because I didn’t plan on staying there as long as I did, and the conversation felt like a one-sided interview. After I wrote a note to Winnie, I locked the office and felt the woman’s eyes on my back as I left the building.
Tannie wasn’t surprised when I stopped by and I’m sure it’s because my mom called her to tell her. She was cool and distant, and she had to leave before I did because she was going to meet Joe. I mean, she didn’t say she was going to meet Joe but her lack of explanation on where she was heading told me she was meeting him. The goodbyes went smoothly, and I’ve had a pit in my stomach. They assume I’ll be back, that I won’t be able to hack it outside of Greenton, Alabama. Now I don’t just have something to prove to myself, I have a mission to prove everyone else wrong in the process.
I drive cautiously, taking my time as I drive onto the Ballentine property. Mercer is waiting outside for me when I arrive, like he’s done on multiple other occasions. I park the car in front of a garage bay and Mercer opens the car door for me.
“There you are. How did it go?” He offered to be with me when I said goodbye to my parents, but I wanted to do it alone. They already think I’m leaving for him; I didn’t want his presence to give them more reason t
o assume so.
“Mama set you up in the guest room,” Mercer rushes out. “I told her you could sleep in my bedroom with me, but she wouldn’t have it. I think she’s scared of your mother.”
“That’s insane. I respect her wishes though.”
“Can I sneak in tonight?” Mercer asks, waggling his brows as he extends his hand to me. I grab my oversized purse, with a change of clothes and my toiletries off the passenger seat and take his hand, shaking my head no even as I say, “Yes.”
He leads me in the front door, and I’m surprised by the jubilant atmosphere inside his home. He’s leaving to go to Cape Cod, and then back to war and his parents are acting like it’s a celebration. My face must relay confusion because Mercer leans down and says, “They like me to leave with a happy vision,” he says. “It’s a little crazy, but it’s how they’ve been since the start of my military career. Like if they showed how sad they were, it might put my life in jeopardy.”
Smirking, I whisper, “I think they’re just excited to have an empty house tomorrow so they can do indecent things anywhere they please.”
He tightens his hand on my shoulder as he laughs. “Thanks for that image. I’ll never be able to burn it from my mind.”
The evening rolls on and we debate going to DR for a drink and to see anyone we’ve missed, but Mercer wants to spend more time with his parents instead. He saw Bentley all morning. I excuse myself from their parlor and head upstairs to the guestroom where I left my bag earlier. It’s cool and quiet here, so I’m startled when their doorbell rings out, a warning cry.
Then I hear my father’s voice.
Chapter Twelve
___________________________________
Clover
“HOW CAN YOU do this to me?” my daddy says, voice laced with surgical precision. Mr. Ballentine replies to his question, but his voice is lower, pacifying, calmer. I creep from the bedroom and make my way into the upstairs hallway. Their voices carry better from this vantage point and I need to hear everything.
“First your son decides to whisk my daughter to the North and now you’re trying to take my job? After everything we’ve been through? Years and years of friendship and comradery you’re flushing down the loo? What are you thinking? Our partnership worked perfectly. A well-oiled machine that everybody accepted.”
“Clover was making plans to move long before my son came home, sir,” Mr. Ballentine fires back. Before my daddy can argue, Mercer’s daddy goes on. “Our partnership worked for you because it’s about what you want, not about what’s best for our town, Wally. This is beyond me and you or just you, anymore. We need change. The people demand it. You can’t be blind to that. I don’t want people to accept me, I want to do right by them.”
My stomach fills with dread as I tiptoe to the landing of the stairs. This won’t end well for the Ballentines. Just as I told Mercer. Fuss all you want about change, but don’t try to trigger it unless you want a war of your very own.
“I never meant you any disrespect, in fact, I was hoping things would stay amicable between us.”
“Daddy,” I say, stepping out of the darkness. “Please stop. This isn’t the time for this.”
“And you,” Daddy rushes out, aiming a finger at me like a weapon. “You are a disappointment. You have no right to tell me to stop or to do anything. Deceiving everyone today at the festival with false promises of that date. The scheme. The gall of it all. I should have known the whispers around town about you and the Ballentine boy were true.” He clears his throat, realizing he is standing in front of his co-worker and not lashing me in private. “Bringing shame to the family name, nearly driving your mama into an early grave. Mark me, Clover, you will kill her.”
“Did it ever occur to you that Greenton is killing me? I’ve tried to do everything in my power to make this place something it’s not. The Ballentines don’t have anything to do with this. It’s between you and me. Let’s talk outside.” He has to know I’m trying to use distraction. I want him to focus his anger on me, someone he won’t hurt. Not Mr. Ballentine who might as well be a defenseless mole rat.
Daddy shakes his head, and I notice his tie is loose and his slacks are wrinkled. He’s out of sorts. “I’m here to talk to Earl about work, about him trying to steal my job from me.”
“It’s an election, Wally. I’m not stealing anything,” Earl Ballentine butts in, jaw clenching. “Let’s keep things fair and honorable. Like we always have.” There’s a tremor to his voice which leads me to believe things aren’t fair and honorable any longer. They probably haven’t been for years, and that makes the pit in my stomach turn into a boulder. Mercer appears in the grand foyer, a concerned look creasing his features. His mom puts a hand on his shoulder to tell him not to intervene.
My dad hangs his head, knuckles cracking by his side. “You don’t think I know how an election works?”
His steely gaze darts up to meet mine. “Bye, Clover,” Daddy says. “Best of luck keeping company with traitors.”
“That’s an awful thing to say,” Mr. Ballentine rasps. “A friend would be happy for me and wish me luck regardless.” Friends. Such an icy word that never means what it should in Greenton. Will that be different once I move away? Will others be my friend if I have nothing to offer?
“Luck,” Daddy scoffs. “You’ll need more than luck, Earl. You’ll need a God-sent miracle.”
Mr. Ballentine bristles. “Are you trying to intimidate me right now?”
Daddy shakes his head just once. “A promise, Earl. A promise. Good evening, Mrs. Ballentine. My apologies for bringing work into the home. Forgive me.”
Mrs. Ballentine is taken aback by his show of kindness. She clears her throat and shows Daddy to the door. I bound down the stairs and follow my maker into the night. His SUV is idling in front of the house, driver’s side door still open. Kip isn’t here to follow him around and clean up after him.
“Daddy, please.”
He holds out a hand to stop me. A gesture he’s done thousands of times before. When I was a little girl, rushing his home office to show him the newest fashion on my Barbie doll, and when I wanted to ask permission to go on the mission to Africa to help with the hunger crisis, when I wanted to tell him about a homeless girl I saw in town square. Wallace Wellsley wouldn’t hear of any of those things from his daughter, giving her the palm of his hand and a twitch of his lip to show his annoyance. I grab his wrist and force it down, out of my face.
“I might be a disappointment and I might bring you shame by leaving, but you need to get a couple things straight.” I breathe in a rush, my heart banging against my ribcage as my father studies me through slits. “I am not killin’ Mama.” I shake my head. “The Ballentines aren’t traitors, and I may have been sneaking around your back, but it was because you never would have listened to me anyway. You don’t even want to listen to me now.”
He sighs loudly. “You’re right about that.” He places a hand on the door and swings into his SUV. “Watch yourself. You may not want to have anything to do us in your quest to leave this place behind, but you wear the Wellsley name, Clover, and regardless of what you think you want, I know you’ll be back. This is your home. It’s where you belong. Go on and move somewhere else to figure it out.” He clears his throat, placing both of his hands on the steering wheel. “But don’t bring home any mistakes you can’t pack in luggage.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat and close his door without responding. I watch his taillights as they disappear down the drive and turn onto the main road. Maybe words so cruel and sharp would give others pause, but they drive me forward—propel me in the solidarity of my decision.
Mercer comes up behind me, his warm hand on my shoulder. “Well now that we’ve got the semantics out of the way, we have a twenty-four-hour drive on the horizon. Let’s rest up.”
“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” I whisper into the warm night air.
He breathes heavily, bending his head into my neck, lips agains
t the skin behind my ear. “I’m sorry you had to grow up with that.”
I turn in his arms to face him. “Twenty-four hours, huh? Good thing I packed my knitting needles.”
Mercer quirks a brow. “You did not.”
“What else did you think I was going to do all day in a car with you?”
I press my hands against his hard chest. That one brow of his waggles up and down. “Have you heard of such a thing as road head?”
I play at mock disgust but ask him to tell me the details of how it works without creating a traffic accident. He does, voice low, and I almost forget my daddy’s threats.
“Sounds dangerous,” I conclude.
He ushers me into the house. “Not nearly as dangerous as that there knitting hobby of yours.” Mercer winks at me as he closes and locks the door behind us.
_______________
“My legs are going to fall right off,” I whine. Mercer turns up his blasted, annoying music instead of answering my fifth cry for help this hour. “I’m going to die inside this car.” I groan loudly and open the window to let my hand float along the breeze. I was okay the first fifteen hours, and then we switched so Mercer could take a quick nap. I drove for four blissful hours. Now that he’s back at the helm, the militant atmosphere has returned. I’m only allowed to drink every once in a while, because I refuse to pee in a zip lock baggy and sling it out the window. I told him I’d squat outside, behind a tree, but he said that would ruin our time. The GPS is merely displaying the time to beat, not the amount of time it will take to arrive at our destination. I capped my water after that and have resigned myself to misery.
“Poor, poor pet,” he chirps back at me. “At least you’ll die in the confines of riches. How much did this car cost anyway?” We’ve talked about almost everything under the sun. I’m surprised this is the first time my car has come up in conversation.
Almost Had You Page 13
