Falling for Home

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Falling for Home Page 19

by Jody Holford


  The air was cooler today even though the sun was making scattered appearances. The snow line on the mountains had lowered, adding a bite to the soft breeze that blew. It wouldn’t be the first time the month of May had brought a cold front to Angel’s Lake, but Lucy preferred the warmer weather.

  “Alright angsty teens, line up,” Kate said to the motley crew that was assembled in sweaters, baggy jeans, and a mishmash of hats. There were more boys than girls. Almost all of them were holding a takeout coffee container, making Lucy salivate a bit. The teens gave Kate their attention, and Lucy realized that she really did have a strong rapport with them. They connected with her—maybe it was her age, her demeanor, or a combination of both. Maybe she is meant to do this.

  “What’s angsty mean?” a boy with a plaid shirt over a long-sleeve Henley asked. He ran his hand through his shaggy blond hair, but it fell back into his eyes immediately.

  “Moody,” said a girl with a condescending curl to her lip. Lucy didn’t think she was actually mad.

  “We here, ain’t we?” asked another boy. He had an enviable afro growing that looked like a planet intricately perched atop his head.

  “You are,” Kate replied, a clipboard in her hand. “And I’m not only glad, I’m grateful. Before we go over the plan, I want to introduce my older sister.”

  Lucy waved and gave a smile, but the teens barely acknowledged her with a glance.

  “She’ll be helping, but she’ll also be taking photographs. She’s an amazing photographer, and her work has been featured in National Geographic, Elle, Vogue, Esquire,” Kate shared. Lucy’s gaze must have registered the astonishment she felt over Kate knowing so much of her resume because Kate tilted her head in a what-did-I-say? gesture. The kids, however, continued to stand impatiently, their expressions settling between bored and tired.

  “I did a Maxim shoot as well,” Lucy offered with a weak smile. If Kate could win them over, so could she. It worked. The boys’ heads whipped in her direction with comical synchronicity.

  “Dude. That is sick,” one of the boys said. His shadow of a goatee moved oddly when he spoke or smiled, but Lucy was pleased by the recognition.

  “That means cool,” said the girl who knew what angst meant.

  “Yeah. I know that much. Anyway, I’m taking your pictures because I’m putting together an exhibit for the opening of the new rec center. If you don’t want to be photographed, please just let me know,” Lucy told them, taking the elastic off of her wrist to tie her hair back.

  “Will there be photography lessons offered at the rec center?” asked another girl. Her eyes were quiet, and she barely moved when she spoke, like being still mattered in her world. Lucy smiled gently and hoped the girl, who couldn’t be more than fifteen, was just nervous. Kate looked at Lucy and pursed her lips.

  Lucy answered the girl, since Kate hadn’t. “Uh. I don’t know. I think Kate is planning the activities and courses that will be available. I’d be happy to offer lessons, though” Lucy said, more to Kate than the kids. The kids were starting to fidget, and Kate pulled their attention back by tapping on her clipboard.

  “Okay. More about what we’re offering later. Let’s get ready to paint.”

  Kate gave them sections to work on and put them in teams. Lucy decided to take pictures before she grabbed a roller. Kate, never one to sit on the sidelines, kept everyone’s paint trays full and pitched in when needed. Lucy crouched to get a profile shot of everyone working on the wall.

  “Pretty clever, challenging them like that,” Lucy commented as she worked. Kate had told the kids that the first group that finished their section to her approval would get out of cleanup.

  “It doesn’t take much. They’re really good kids. They’ve made mistakes, but they’re atoning for them. I hate the thought of them being pigeonholed because of what other teens are doing. If it even is a teen,” Kate said, dipping the roller before applying it to the brick.

  “You’re really awesome with them. Like, really,” Lucy said, standing and lowering the camera. “I’m sorry that I’ve been pressuring you. You will make an excellent social worker.”

  Kate lowered the roller, took a quick inventory of where the kids were at, and then came to stand in front of Lucy. One of the kids turned on their iPhone so music sounded out of his jeans. A couple of the other kids sang along with the words, making Lucy laugh.

  “I love working with these guys. I truly do. But if you think I don’t want what you’re offering, you’re wrong. I’m not trying to be mean. I love you so much—”

  “But,” Lucy said stiffly.

  “But, we’re not all you. We can’t all just take off and see the world and do whatever we feel like, Luce. I’m trying to be responsible. I’m trying to do what is right. They paid for my education. I will not slap Mom and Dad in the face by taking off,” Kate said in a hushed tone, glancing back at the teens.

  Lucy’s grip tightened on the camera until the grooves were digging into her fingers and palm.

  “We’re almost done, Kate!” one of the teens shouted.

  “Keep going. I’ll check in a minute,” Kate hollered back. Her eyes looked sorry, but Lucy couldn’t hold back.

  “Wow. Well, I really appreciate you being the responsible one in my absence. While I’ve been running around the world, selfishly living it up, I’m so glad to know that Mom and Dad can count on you.”

  “Lucy. I didn’t—”

  “You had your say. Several times now. It’s interesting to me that you can spend your days working with these kids because you believe they can change—they can grow and become someone different than you expected them to be. But you can’t see that in me. Staying home for Mom and Dad is a cop out. You’re scared. You’re scared to leave, and you’re scared to try. And maybe I’m not the responsible one—the one all of you can be really proud of—but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. To me, that’s as scary as leaving is for you. But I’m doing it anyway. That makes me brave.”

  Lucy’s voice shook on the last few words. With her hands equally unsteady, she put her camera away and grabbed her bags.

  “Lucy. I’m sorry. Please don’t go,” Kate said quietly, putting her hand on Lucy’s arm.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not running away. I have some sessions booked. You can finish telling me what a disappointment I am as a sister and daughter when I get home.”

  “Lucy.”

  Lucy turned without saying good-bye to the kids and walked down the alley before the tears slipped down her cheeks. She swiped them away and ignored Kate calling her name.

  Mad or not, Alex wasn’t going to let his dad take care of the cleanup of his driveway and shed himself. With gloves on their hands, Alex and Chuck tossed the shards of glass into a large bagster, an invention Alex hadn’t even known existed. It was a heavy duty bag in the shape of a mini dumpster. It saved them time hauling while Sam punched out the rest of the glass to replace the windows in the shed. Chuck had decided he wanted new frames as well, rather than just replacing the glass.

  “Damn mess. I should probably remove most of this gravel,” Chuck commented.

  “Some of it, for sure. I can get one of my guys to bring the mini excavator over this weekend. They’ll take a couple of loads out, and then you can replace it with fresh stuff,” Sam offered. Alex nodded in thanks but said nothing.

  “Maybe I should just pave it,” Chuck said, standing up and surveying his driveway. He looked at Alex.

  “Don’t look at me. Ask him,” Alex said.

  “It’s a bigger job, but I think you’d be happier with it,” Sam replied.

  Chuck mulled it over while they worked. Alex and Sam talked baseball and weddings, which surprised the hell out of Alex. He’d never seen Sam as the type to fall head-over-heels-crazy-in-love. He was happy for his friend—thrilled, but it was still amusing.

  “Who would have thought you’d know the difference between silk and satin? Or whatever the hell chiffon is,” Alex said, taking a break to dr
ink some water. His back was aching and damp with sweat. If they were going to get an excavator, this seemed like a waste of time. Alex walked over to hold the window in place while Sam grabbed his drill.

  “You’ll see, man. I go home at night, grab a beer, put my feet up, and Anna curls into me with a fucking binder full of stuff she wants an opinion on,” Sam told him. Alex laughed and shook his head, but it didn’t really sound so bad.

  “Do you know the difference between white and vanilla?” Sam asked as he held the drill steady and secured one side of the window.

  “Nope. And I’m okay with that,” Alex answered.

  “He doesn’t get it, Sam. Save your breath,” Chuck chimed in.

  “Oh, here we go. Because you’re the expert on weddings? Do you know the difference between white and vanilla?” Alex asked, moving so he and Sam could switch sides.

  “It’s not about white versus vanilla, dumbass. It’s about listening to a woman and making her feel like she matters. Took me way too long to figure that out. It’s good you’ve already learned that, Sam,” Chuck said. He sat down in one of the lawn chairs he’d opened when they started and drank his water.

  “The right woman makes it easy. Speaking of which, Anna’s asking to do a double date. You good with that?”

  “Sure,” Alex said. Agreeing seemed like the easiest solution, and it actually did sound like a good idea. He should probably bring Lucy over to properly meet his father, too, since they were headed in that sort of direction. While they finished up the windows, and Chuck watched, Alex poked around the shed. He’d taken the paint into the station to compare it to the photos.

  “Where’d you say you got this paint again?” Alex asked.

  “I didn’t,” Chuck replied, looking up from under the brim of his cap.

  “Dad. I need to know where you got the paint.”

  “I bought it.”

  Alex swore and exchanged a look with Sam, who shrugged his shoulders. He’d sent evidence into the Minnesota crime lab, but petty acts of vandalism hardly rated in comparison to what they dealt with daily. Stalking over to where his dad was far too comfortable, he knocked Chuck’s boot with his own.

  “There’s a good chance you’re holding up the investigation. Whoever gave you the paint could be part of this. It may not seem like much, but the incidents are escalating and becoming personal,” Alex said, hands on hips. His dad knew this. Chuck stood so they were eye to eye.

  “So haul me in for obstruction. But know this, I can personally guarantee you that the person that gave me the paint is not who you are looking for,” Chuck told him. His voice was steady. Years of being a good cop kept his tone even and sure. But years of being Alex’s dad kept it sincere as well.

  “How can you know that?” Alex demanded, knowing that he could water-board his dad and still get nothing. If Chuck Whitman didn’t want to talk, he didn’t talk.

  “Jesus, kid. Can’t you trust me?”

  Chuck stomped off and Sam whistled low behind Alex. Alex hung his head and tried to take a deep breath, but the words “I don’t know” kept running through his brain.

  Lucy didn’t feel like being at home. But she knew that she needed to resolve things with her sister, and she wasn’t irresponsible, so she was waiting in Kate’s bedroom when she got home later that day. When she walked in, Kate was holding a gigantic Slurpee. Lucy’s gaze locked on it as she tried not to convey how very badly she wanted it.

  “Mom said you were up here,” Kate said softly. Lucy nodded.

  “I thought we should talk,” Lucy said, pulling her gaze from the drink that looked like the perfect blend of ice and pop.

  “You can stop drooling. I bought it for you,” Kate said, handing it over.

  Lucy took a slow, careful sip, avoiding brain freeze. It was sweet and syrupy—the perfect mix. Kate was sorry. Kate hated convenience stores. She claimed they weren’t very convenient when everyone went to them. If she went into 7-11, poured a Slurpee, and waited in line to pay, she was definitely sorry.

  “Thanks,” Lucy said, feeling the ice slip down her throat.

  Kate slipped off her shoes and sat down beside Lucy on the bed. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “I am scared. I’m terrified. New York is really far away. I know I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry,” Kate said. Her voice lowered, and she laid her head on Lucy’s shoulder. Lucy tilted her head so it rested on Kate’s and continued to sip her drink.

  “It’s not that far.”

  “When I criticized you for traveling the world, part of it was because I’m jealous that you’re brave enough to do that. To just go out on your own.”

  Lucy shrugged, dislodging Kate’s head. She turned and crossed her legs on the bed, choosing her words carefully. Kate didn’t need to know why Lucy always felt the need to stay away, to skirt around the edges and hide behind a plane ticket. Even if she wanted to tell her, it wasn’t her right. Was it?

  “It’s scary. Every trip, every village, every plane ride has been scary. Anything new is scary.”

  “Then why do it?” Kate asked, mirroring her sister’s position.

  “Because there are amazing things to see and do and be part of outside of Angel’s Lake. And because when you’re done seeing and doing, or even if you’re not, you can always come home.”

  “What if I’m no good? It’s a silly pipe dream. I like to sketch, but that doesn’t mean I should be in New York,” Kate argued without heat.

  “It’s not all about the fashion part of it. Some of this is about taking a risk and following your dream. Taking an opportunity that not everyone gets.”

  Kate took the cup from Lucy’s hand, stirred the contents, and took a sip of her own before passing it back.

  “It feels wrong. Cashing in on who my sister knows, leaving Mom and Dad, and not following through with social work. Then there’s the center,” Kate said. She got up, went to her desk, and pulled open the bottom drawer that was covered with an NSYNC poster. She pulled out a brown, faded leather book. It had a leather cord wrapped around it twice. She ran her hand over it and came back to the bed.

  “It’s not wrong to use connections if you have them. Especially in New York. Especially in this business or any other like it. Sometimes, that’s the only way to get in. Mom and Dad will understand and support you. Having a degree in social work will never be a bad thing. And the center will be fine. It’ll be great. And you did that. Because when you wanted something, you went after it and made it happen,” Lucy said softly, encouragingly. She stood to set the Slurpee down on the dresser, sensing that Kate was about to share something precious. She sat back down and waited while Kate stared at the leather bound book. Finally, with a mix of emotions in her eyes, Kate looked back up at Lucy.

  “Be honest. From the minute you open it, I’ll know from your reaction whether or not I was meant to do this. Either way will be okay. I’ll be okay. But your reaction will be a sign,” Kate declared.

  Lucy gave a short laugh. “No pressure.”

  “None. But you can’t hide anything. Your face is so expressive.,” Kate said, still holding the book.

  “Hey! I can hide my feelings,” Lucy countered.

  Kate arched her eyebrow and stared. “If you say so. But I can see through you.” She handed Lucy the book, and the simple act of trust, faith, and hope pushed any lingering hurt aside and left only room for how much she loved her little sister.

  Undoing the leather binding by pulling one string, she carefully unfolded the book. The thick pages were a cream color and filled with enough beauty to stop Lucy’s breath in her throat. With it trapped there, she couldn’t speak. She looked up from the images and into Kate’s eyes. Lucy watched her sister tear up slightly and give a one-sided smile.

  “You really like them,” she whispered. Lucy could only nod because there were no words that described how much, and the air was still caught. So she turned the pages, nodding in awe at the secret her sister had kept for who knew how lon
g. Finally, she found her voice when she stumbled across a gorgeous dress in an array of shimmering colors that could be dressed down or up. The thin straps and scooped neckline gave it a summery feel, while the cascading folds of fabric made it elegant.

  “Kate. I had no idea you were so talented.”

  When a tear slipped down Kate’s cheek, Lucy leaned over and hugged her hard, still holding the book on her lap.

  “You have to help me tell Mom and Dad.”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter 19

  “And she can really draw, Alex! It was amazing. She had hundreds of design ideas sketched out in all of these notebooks she kept in her desk,” Lucy said excitedly while he nibbled his way down her neck. She was as cute as she was hot, and he found it quite an irresistible combination.

  “Mmhmm,” he murmured, running his hand up her smooth thigh until he hit her shorts. They were stopped on a bench overlooking a spring that came from the mountain as if by magic. The air smelled like wildflowers and trees and Lucy. Her camera was on one side of her, more appendage than machine. The warm breeze shifted over them. She made him ache. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe she was right here, letting him touch her whenever he wanted. She was his.

  While he was getting lost in her scent—vanilla and flowers, her taste—peppermint, the feel of her against him—mind-blowing, she giggled. Amusement crowded his lust but didn’t diminish it. He looked at her with mock annoyance and raised eyebrows.

  “I can honestly say I have never had a woman laugh while I’m trying to seduce her,” he said. He couldn’t keep the smile from spreading as she threw her arms around him. He wrapped his around her and held her tight, breathing her into every piece of his soul.

  “I felt like I had no place. Here or in anyone’s life. Now I feel like there’s nowhere else. No other place that would fit,” she said hoarsely. The first couple times she had cried, it had torn little pieces inside of him, but now he knew that the hint of tears he heard were happy ones. She leaned back and looked at him, cupping his face in her hands like he did to her so often. “I feel like I’m part of something. Not just on the outside taking pictures. I’m going to help Kate tell my parents tonight. I honestly think they will be okay with it. They’ve always been supportive of our choices.”

 

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