Speak From The Heart: a small town romance

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Of course,” she replies quietly, her body still stiff. Without thinking, I reach for her elbow as she starts to walk away. My eyes lower to where I touch her, noting the strangeness electrocuting my palm against her warm skin. She’s a hot mess again, yet I’m hot for her. Slowly, I glance up at her face, finding her close. What else can I say to her? What can I add to express my gratitude?

  “Join us for cookies and lemonade?” she asks breathlessly. She makes cookies sound seductive, and somehow, I sense it’s going to be the best snack I’ve ever eaten.

  However, I quickly discover how bad snack time can be.

  “Who’s your friend, dear?” Elizabeth asks of Emily once we take our seats on the porch. Emily takes a chair next to her nana while I sit next to Katie on the couch.

  “Nana, it’s Jess Carter,” Emily says, her voice trying to sound teasing as if her nana knows better when it’s clear her grandmother has no idea who I am.

  “What pretty hair you have,” Mrs. Parrish says to me, still uncertain it’s me, yet holding her gaze on my face. “Mary Katherine likes to wear her hair down.”

  Who’s Mary Katherine? Emily’s face pales as her eyes flick to me and then back to her grandmother.

  “Nana,” she whispers, admonishing her.

  “I haven’t seen this style before.” Her grandmother points at her forehead, referring to the bandana on mine. I wear it to hold back the sweat. Suddenly, I’m uncertain she realizes I’m a man. “Is this new in women’s hair fashion?”

  “Nana,” Emily hisses, her eyes widening as she glances from her grandmother to me.

  Yep, uncertainty confirmed. I can play this one of two ways, but I think the best thing is to ignore it.

  “So, that faucet,” I begin. “You’ll need a replacement, but I don’t think you’ll find one. You might need a whole new kitchen sink.”

  “A new sink?” Elizabeth shrieks, her voice straining. “What’s wrong with the sink?”

  Emily closes her eyes, and I see Elizabeth’s clearly confused. My arm rests around Katie, and I tap at her hip.

  “I think it’s time to go, Katie bug.” Her neck cranes, and she glances up at me. I haven’t used the endearment myself before, but I don’t mind it. Judging by the way Katie’s looking at me, she doesn’t seem to mind it, either. I lower to rub my nose against hers, then gently push her upward and out of her seat. We need to leave before we cause any more trouble to Mrs. Parrish or Emily. She’s stressed by the things her grandmother is saying or actually, not saying. It’s obvious Elizabeth is confused, and I’m reminded of the conversation I overheard last night at the barbecue.

  “I’m going to walk our guests out,” Emily states, playing into the idea that our visit is casual instead of business. She follows me to the kitchen, and after I grab my tools and Katie’s bag, she leads Katie and me to the front door. She trails us outside, remaining at the top of the large porch while Katie runs to the truck. Something stops me at the base of the steps.

  “You okay?” I ask, turning back to her. Her arms wrap around her middle as though she’s holding herself together.

  “I’ve been better. I’m sorry about that in there. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “I know she didn’t. I’m just glad she liked my hair,” I attempt to tease, hoping it will bring some light into her eyes. “Still leaving?” I hate that I ask. I hate that something inside me wants her to stay.

  “I have to run back to Chicago tomorrow for some things, but I’ll be staying through next weekend once I return.”

  A run to Chicago—that’s a six, almost seven-hour trip from here. She shouldn’t be driving all that distance on her own, and suddenly, I want to offer to take her. The words form behind my lips, but I fight them off.

  Do not get involved.

  “I’ll look into the faucet for you. Need me to check on Elizabeth?” I tip my chin in the direction of the house, and Emily straightens her shoulders.

  “I have it covered,” she says.

  “Because you’re efficient.” I reiterate what she said last night.

  “Exactly.” Her head nods, emphasizing the word.

  “As long as you’ve got it all on your own, I guess I’ll see you around, Emily Post of Chicago,” I say, fighting the smile on my lips as I labor through the length of her name.

  “See you around,” she says although she doesn’t sound so sure of herself. Then I remember the fairy tales she read to my daughter. The princess saves herself. Somehow, I don’t recall that being exactly how each story went.

  Rule 5

  Speak from a place of honesty

  [Emily]

  I have no choice but to return to Chicago for one night. I need additional clothes and my laptop. I never travel without it, and it’s just my luck the one time I do is when I need it the most. Isn’t that the way things go? While I officially have the time off work, I’ll need to check in. This also means I need internet service, which Nana’s home does not have.

  Sigh. One more thing added to the list.

  It will be a seven-hour trek to the big city and seven hours back. I’m setting my original overnight bag in my trunk when I look up to see Jess’s truck parked in the Carpenter’s driveway. I told Sue I’d ring her doorbell when I was ready to leave. I’ve already said my goodbyes to Nana, assuring her I’d be back before lunchtime tomorrow. Leaving Nana worries me but taking her with me isn’t an option. If she’s confused in her own home, there’s no telling how she would react on a road trip.

  As I enter the Carpenter’s yard, Jess and Joe stop talking. Katie sits in the front seat of Jess’s truck. He must take her everywhere, which redefines overprotective father.

  “Morning, Emily,” Joe greets me. “Sue should be right out.”

  “Thanks again, Joe. I really appreciate this.”

  Jess looks from Joe to me, his jaw clenching as he crosses his arms. It should be a crime to look so good in a gray tee and faded jeans. His hair is pulled back in his signature short ponytail, but he’s skipped the bandana today, and I’m wondering if it’s because of Nana’s comments. It was so embarrassing, yet I couldn’t blame her. She didn’t know who he was or what she was saying, and I wasn’t comfortable having him see her like that. He’d already judged me at the Mueller’s barbecue, accusing me of not taking care of my own. Was that how he put it? Either way, I don’t need his judgment today.

  “I should be back tomorrow morning.” As I state my plan to Joe, Jess eyes me but doesn’t speak, and I don’t have anything to say to him. Sue exits the house, carrying a bag over her shoulder, and I turn to her.

  “Good morning. Again, I’m so grateful for this.”

  “You take all the time you need,” Sue states, coming up to me and offering a surprising hug of support. She’s been a good neighbor and friend to Nana, and I owe her so much. She pats my arm as she says, “She’s going to be just fine.”

  Jess’s eyes remain focused on me, but I ignore him and shift mine to Katie inside his truck.

  “Bye, Katie. I’ll see you when I get back.” I wave at her as I lean around her father, having no idea if I’ll see her tomorrow, but still feeling the need to assure her I’ll be back. I speak to her as though I expect her to answer me, but I’m getting used to carrying on a one-sided conversation. Her little eyes widen. She’s expressive that way, but I can’t read her. I don’t know her well enough despite what I said yesterday about us fairy-tale girls being kindred souls. Jess must have thought I was crazy. I know he’s concerned about her attachment to me. I see it in the hesitant look in his eyes when he watches me with her. His eyes I can read, and that intense denim stare says he hopes I’ll go away and never come back.

  I step away from him with a chin tip like he gives me, and Sue and I cross to Nana’s yard.

  I didn’t hear Jess’s truck door open.

  I didn’t hear the little feet chasing me.

  I didn’t pay attention to the call from Jess of his daughter’s name.

  What I
do register is the tiny arms circling my knees almost taking me down to the grass. I stumble and catch myself before falling forward.

  “What…?” Sue gasps beside me as I make every effort not to trip and try to twist as Katie’s little arms clutch at the back of my thighs.

  “Katie?” I question, but she isn’t releasing me. It isn’t that she has unparalleled strength as a child but the awkwardness with which she grasps my legs holds me in place. Eventually, I’m able to spin, breaking her grasp long enough to lower to her level and pull her into an embrace. She moves her arms to my neck, wrapping them around me as if her life depends on it.

  “Katie bug, sweetheart,” I coo. I stand, picking her up, and rub up and down her thin spine as I turn and face her father. The expression on his face is a mix of pain and confusion, the second of which must match mine. I don’t understand what’s happening.

  “What’s this?” I ask Katie but hold my gaze on Jess as if he can explain. Katie’s little arms tighten, almost choking me. Jess shakes his head in disbelief.

  “I’ll be back,” I whisper because I cannot think of anything else to say to him or her. “It’s only one night, Katie bug.” For some reason, I’m reminded of nights my mother went out when I was a child, and I was afraid she’d never come back. I had no basis for feeling that way other than the fact our father left long before I knew him. My mother would eventually leave forever, dying when I was a pre-teen and leaving me to struggle through the awkward years on my own. But I doubt any of Katie’s emotions are comparable to my past experiences.

  Jess’s face morphs, the edginess growing somehow edgier as I continue to give his daughter reassurances. He’s tense, but his eyes reveal he’s not upset, just frustrated. He doesn’t know why she’s acting like this anymore than I do.

  “Katie,” I try again. “I need to go, honey, but I will be back.” Not to stay indefinitely, but for a little while. My hand moves to her bird-like arms, circling them in an attempt to loosen her hold, but she isn’t letting go.

  “Just give her to me,” Jess demands, but his voice is monotone, puzzled even. He steps forward, placing his hands on her sides, attempting to tug her free. He quickly realizes she’s the one latched onto me and not the other way around.

  “Katie,” he snaps, but she shakes her head in the crook of my neck. He reaches for her again, and Katie breaks her grasp with a wiggle from what I assume is a ticklish touch. Jess sweeps her into his chest. She hugs him like she embraced me, and he immediately turns his back to me as if I’m the one who did him wrong. Only his child has her hand outstretched, reaching for me as tears stream down her face without any sound.

  I don’t understand what just happened, but I find my own eyes well with stinging liquid.

  “You should probably just go, Emily,” Sue says gently from beside me, and I nod, though I don’t move at first. My heart patters so fiercely I can’t move my feet. I watch as Jess sets his daughter in his truck before I turn to Sue and follow her directive. Without another glance back at them, I step toward my car and enter it with heavy feet and an even heavier heart.

  + + +

  “It sounds like post-traumatic stress disorder,” my sister says to me when I call her shortly after I pull onto the highway.

  “PTSD? I thought only military personnel suffer such a thing,” I state even though I know that’s not true.

  “Post-traumatic, Em. It could be from anything.”

  “What are you thinking? Think something happened to her? Did her mother or someone else do something to her?”

  “I don’t even want to make a guess. It makes me sick to think her mother said or did something, but we all do things we don’t mean to do. As parents, there are always things we wish we could take back. We’re still only human,” she says, dispelling wisdom to me like Nana used to do. Grace should have been a counselor for all the years she’s counseled me. “Where’s the mother again?”

  “I actually don’t know.” It’s not like Jess and I are close enough to share our personal history, and I’d never ask Nana, knowing I’m unable to trust her answer. Still, I’m just as curious. Where is his ex-wife?

  “Did she die? Divorce?”

  “Grace,” I breathe out. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you like him?” she says next, and I choke as I grip the steering wheel.

  “What? No, of course not. He’s not my type.”

  “And what is your type, Em?”

  “Educated. Worldly. Sophisticated.” I sit straighter with each word, enjoying the roll of them off my tongue but admittedly not so confident in what I’m saying.

  “Want some advice?”

  “Not really,” I say, knowing she’s going to offer it anyway as my big sister.

  “Don’t have a type. Be open-minded.”

  I snort. “Well, he’s certainly not.”

  “How do you know?” she says, then quickly adds, “And why do you care if you aren’t interested in him?”

  I hate when my sister is right. I don’t want to like him, but the concern in his eyes yesterday when Nana insulted him made an impression. Maybe because he showed sympathy without pity after what happened on Nana’s porch. Sue and Joe are concerned too, but I can’t go to them for what I need.

  Comfort. Compassion.

  Jess had silently offered me these things, and I’d refused.

  Yet isn’t that what I’m offering his child? Could it be that Jess and I are somehow alike?

  “Grace, what am I going to do about Nana?” I ask, hoping to switch subjects.

  “Give yourself a break,” she replies, and I don’t even know what that means.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you haven’t had time off in forever. Spend some time with her. Enjoy yourself a little bit.”

  “Grace,” I say her name, hardening my voice. “The house is a wreck. The yard is in shambles. I’m not on vacation here. I’m here because Nana is losing her mind.” My voice rises along with my stress.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. You’re right. I just think . . .” Her pause makes me want to close my eyes, but I’m driving. “I just think it might be good for you to slow down a bit. You could use this time to reflect a little.” Her voice gentles, but I don’t know what she’s saying because she isn’t actually saying anything. Reflect on what?

  “I don’t have time for reflection. I need to concentrate on the road,” I state, though there isn’t another car for miles, and thank goodness because I’m speeding. My heart rate matches the pace of the tires on the asphalt.

  I need to get home.

  And then I need to return to Elk Lake City.

  + + +

  Foregoing a night in my condo because I knew I wouldn’t sleep, I turned right around once I’d collected my things. It’s almost midnight when I pull into the gravel drive. The front porch light is on. A little body is wrapped around the bannister post of the stairs. Another body sits on the porch swing I’d asked Joe to hang the other day.

  Jess.

  How long has he been here?

  I’d spoken to Sue earlier, checking in on Nana, and learned Katie had attached herself to the porch, kicking and fighting her father when he tried to remove her. Finally, he’d given up and positioned himself in the swing to watch over her.

  “He’s like a zombie,” Sue’d said. “He hasn’t moved. I don’t know why she reacted as she did. Never seen anything like it.”

  When I’d asked if I could speak with Jess, Sue said he refused to talk to me.

  So why were they still here?

  Jess stands once I start to cross the yard. His hands slip into his jean pockets, and he glares down at me from his perch before looking to the side. His shoulders sag, and I can’t tell if he’s relieved I’ve returned as promised or if he’s frustrated I’ve returned at all. Ignoring the expression on his face, I bend for his child.

  “Katie.” I softly call her name, placing a hand on her shoulder to rouse her. She’s fallen asleep in this position, hug
ging the bannister, her head using the hard wood as a pillow and a prop to hold her upright. “Katie bug, I’m back.” Her eyes blink open, and she releases the post, reaching out for me. I draw her into my arms and stand on shaky legs. She’s heavier in her sleep, and Jess rushes down the stairs.

  “I got her,” I say, holding out one hand to stop his intrusion. She’s his child, but it’s her heart I’m worried about, and I want to do what I can to put her at ease.

  “Time for bed,” I whisper, uncertain if she hears me. My eyes meet Jess’s. “Can I lay her down in the house? Maybe on the living room couch? Or do you want to take her home?”

  Jess struggles for a moment. The war within is etched in his cheeks, but he finally acquiesces to my request. As his shoulders stiffen, he says, “Maybe the couch will do for now.”

  I nod and take a step for the stairs, still struggling with Katie’s weight. Jess wraps an arm around my back to steady me, and together we climb the treads. He holds the screen door open, and we enter the living room. Sue’s sitting in the front room reading, and she smiles in sympathy when she sees me.

  “Elizabeth already went up,” she whispers, and I mouth my gratitude. Sue stands and gathers her bag by the side of the couch. “I’ll see myself out.”

  The moment I set Katie on the couch, she curls into the back cushions, and her knees draw upward to her chest. I reach for a blanket in the basket near the fireplace and cover her.

  “We need to talk,” I say as I turn to Jess who stands behind me, peering down at his child. He nods and then tips his head toward the front porch. With the side table lamp on low, we can still see Katie from outside.

  As we sit on the porch swing, Jess leans forward, his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped. I sit back, tucking a foot under one knee. Silence weighs heavy between us, and once again I wonder how Jess handles the quiet of his daughter.