Читать книгу The Girl He Used To Love - Amy Vastine - Страница 14

CHAPTER SIX

THERE WERE NO oven timers to wake Dean up Sunday morning. Instead of the sweet smells of baking cookies, it was dreams of Addison that had him up bright and early. He couldn’t even blame Faith. She had held to her promise and hadn’t uttered his sister’s name once since the muddy car ride.

Sunlight glinted off the aerial photograph of the farm that hung opposite the window. The rain had ended and the promise of some drier days lay ahead. Dean tried to focus on the possibility of retrieving his car instead of the painful memories of his sister. Getting out of Grass Lake was becoming more of a necessity than a simple desire.

He picked up his phone to call the towing company to check the status, but it rang instead. His mother was calling. Word must have gotten out. Thanks to his reunion with Jason Green yesterday, there was no way to stop the news of his return from spreading like wildfire. It had always been a matter of when his mother would find out, not if.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Imagine my surprise when I walked out my front door this morning to get the Sunday paper and Caroline Hughes tells me she hopes to see you at church today since you’re in town.”

“I was going to call you,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t believe him.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the Stratton farm. I ran into Faith and Sawyer at the Sundown after my car broke down.” Leaving out the fact that two days had passed since then seemed like a good idea.

“And you didn’t think to call me and your father? You decided to stay out there instead of coming here?” The hurt in her voice made him feel guiltier than he already did.

Dean rubbed his forehead in an attempt at easing the headache that was sure to stick around all day now. “I’m sorry, Mom. I planned to come see you today.”

“Good. I’ll be at church in an hour. I expect to see you there.”

Before Dean could tell her he really didn’t want to go to church, especially not the church he hadn’t set foot in since Addison’s funeral, she hung up.

Marilee Presley did not mess around when it came to going to church on Sundays. Dean and Addison had been taught early on that no excuse other than illness got them out of their religious obligation. It wasn’t until after Addison died that attending Sunday services started to seem pointless to Dean.

What kind of God let people like his sister die? Not one he wanted to pray to.

Having nothing to wear would have been a decent excuse, except his freshly laundered clothes sat on the coffee table. Faith was some kind of laundry fairy who delivered clean clothes while people slept. There wasn’t a trace of mud on any of them. His socks were whiter than he remembered them ever being. Not even his dry cleaner in Nashville was this good.

Faith came tiptoeing down the stairs and grimaced when she noticed he was up. “Did I wake you? I tried to be quiet while I got ready.”

She had avoided him all day and evening yesterday, even after he’d tried to make amends for his moodiness. Here she was still walking on eggshells around him.

“You didn’t wake me up. My mom called. She heard I was in town.”

“I swear I didn’t say anything to anyone,” she argued unnecessarily. Dean knew she wasn’t to blame.

Faith had always been honest and trustworthy, even as a child. She had been the good one while Addison had been wild. Whenever those two had been up to something, Dean’s mom only had to give Faith a look and the poor girl would spill her guts. It had driven Addison crazy, which was probably why she hadn’t taken the news that Faith had been lying to her that summer very well.

“It’s not like I’ve been hiding. Anyone could have seen me at the Sundown on Friday. I talked to the towing company and Dwight from the auto shop. I caught up with Jason yesterday. She was bound to find out sooner or later.”

Faith seemed to relax a bit and smoothed out some invisible wrinkles on the skirt of her pale yellow sundress. Her dark hair was down, loose curls falling over her shoulders. Her pink lips were glossed and those brown eyes needed no help drawing attention.

“I guess that means there’s no reason to sleep on our uncomfortable couch anymore.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. At least the dreams of Addison last night had been of her alive and well. He could only imagine the nightmares he’d have sleeping under his parents’ roof.

“Would it be a huge inconvenience to stay here on this perfectly comfortable couch, if that’s the way things played out?”

Sawyer came bounding down the steps in a shirt and tie, followed by Scout. The dog always seemed to be right on Sawyer’s heels. “The couch is yours, but it’s time to go shopping so my sister doesn’t have to do your laundry every night and my clothes can stay in my closet where they belong.”

Faith looked like she wanted to say something but bit her bottom lip instead.

“You two headed to church?”

“Well, we don’t dress like this to shoe the horses,” Sawyer said, checking his hair in the mirror above the couch. He had just the right amount of ego to become a star.

“Can I catch a ride with you? My mother may disown me if I don’t show up for Sunday services.”

“We leave in ten minutes,” Sawyer replied. “Faith likes to get there early.”

Always the good girl. Until she had fallen for him. No mistake had been bigger than giving in to his feelings for Faith. It had cost them both more than they were willing to lose.

* * *

“LET’S HOPE HIS mother won’t take no for an answer.” Faith’s arms were folded across her chest as they waited in Sawyer’s pickup for their guest. It had been fifteen minutes since Sawyer had said they needed to leave in ten.

“I don’t get why he won’t go home. What’s he hiding from?” Sawyer asked, honking the horn for the third time.

“Addison.” Faith’s voice broke a little.

“I don’t get that, either.”

“People grieve in different ways.” Faith scooted to the middle of the bench seat as Dean approached. No one in Grass Lake went to church in jeans, but at least his were clean and dry. His blond hair was finger-combed and his beard needed a trim, but the sight of him still made Faith’s heart skip a beat.

“I need to make a quick stop before church,” Sawyer said, backing out of the driveway. Faith was thankful her brother was taking credit for their detour. She didn’t want to have to explain where they were going or why.

“The longer the better,” Dean mumbled. His arm felt warm against hers even though she was trying her best not to make contact. Such a different story from twelve years ago when she couldn’t get close enough.

That last summer they’d spent together Dean had insisted Addison finally learn how to drive, and Faith had always tagged along. While Addison had been focused on the road, Dean would brush his fingers against Faith’s thigh or throw his arm over the back of the seat and play with her hair. It had been a dream come true to have his attention and affection, even though they’d had to be sneaky about it.

Faith didn’t dare mention those days or Addison’s horrendous driving skills. Dean had buried his memories along with his sister, and it was clear that was where he wanted them to stay.

Sawyer pulled into the spot in front of Harriet’s Flower Shop and Faith waited for him to climb out so she didn’t have to ask Dean to move. Nothing downtown was open on Sundays this early except the Cup and Spoon Diner. Some people needed their morning coffee before their day could really begin.

Iris Hackney and her son stepped out of the diner and spotted Faith. Mrs. Hackney had been Faith’s fifth-grade teacher. Her red hair was now gray, but she still wore pink glasses on the end of her pointy nose.

“Good morning, Miss Stratton!” She waved a gloved hand and pulled her son in Faith’s direction. Dressed in her Sunday’s best, Mrs. Hackney looked more like the wife of a politician than a former grade-school teacher. Her navy blue dress was paired with white gloves and a belt that cinched her thin waist.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hackney. Charles,” Faith said, nodding in his direction.

“I was just telling Charles we should give you a call. Wasn’t I, dear?”

Charles smiled sheepishly. With a round face like his father’s and red hair like his mother’s, many people forgot he wasn’t the Hackneys’ biological son. Mr. and Mrs. Hackney had adopted Charles as a baby when they were in their forties. He was the same age as Faith even though his parents were much older than hers.

“I heard that you have some experience sewing drapery, and Charles is in desperate need of some new window treatments. Would you be willing to help him out? I’ve chosen some lovely fabric, but I’ve never been very good on a sewing machine.”

If by experience she meant the one time Josie roped Faith into helping sew drapes for the high school drama club, then, yes, Faith had experience.

“My last clients weren’t very discriminating. I’m not sure I’m the kind of seamstress you’re looking for.” Faith had a difficult time coming out and saying no to people, but that didn’t stop her from hoping they would change their minds if she gave them an out.

“You did a wonderful job! Everyone raved about how beautiful and realistic the sets were for the fall play.”

Mrs. Hackney would not be changing her mind. For years the woman had been playing matchmaker for her son. He was a nice guy, but not someone who made the butterflies in Faith’s stomach come to life. Shouldn’t the man she was going to marry at least make her heart beat a little faster? Charles and his ho-hum personality were more likely to cause her to flatline.

Always the pleaser, Faith agreed to help and Mrs. Hackney was overjoyed. Charles shifted uncomfortably and said nothing. His mother suggested they talk after church to set up a time to meet and go over the design.

Faith glanced back at the pickup as the Hackneys got in their car. Sawyer gave her a thumbs-up and Dean was definitely smirking. Seeing him smile was almost worth the embarrassment.

The sign outside the flower shop clearly said Closed, but Faith knocked on the bright green door like she did every Sunday. The window boxes were filled to the brim with a beautiful mix of verbena, petunias and white snow mountains. It smelled like heaven.

Faith heard the lock slide open and was greeted by Harriet herself. “Good morning, Sugarplum. Come on in.”

Harriet Windsor had been Faith’s mother’s best friend. When their mom left, Harriet had stepped up and done her best to fill the hole she’d left in the kids’ lives. Her sage advice had been the only way Faith had survived puberty in a house with two clueless males. Sawyer still had the picture of the two of them in his room from when Harriet had gone as his date to the Boy Scouts’ Mother/Son Dinner and Dance.

“I set aside some arrangements I thought you might like, but go ahead and look around while I finish getting ready.” Harriet’s cheeks were rouged but her eyes and lips were bare. Not to mention, her caramel-colored hair wasn’t nearly big enough. There was still plenty of teasing and hair-spraying to be done.

Faith spent a minute poking around but settled on two of the bouquets Harriet had put together. She was the expert, after all. Faith found her upstairs in the bathroom of her small apartment above the shop.

“I’ll take the ones you picked out.”

Harriet smiled at her through the vanity mirror as she applied her mascara. “Good choice. How are you doing?”

Faith’s eyes fell to the baby blue tiled floor. “Fine.”

Harriet knew better. “Missing your daddy or stressed out about the return of one Mr. Dean Presley?”

“You heard, huh?”

“I’m sure half the town has heard by now. No one thought he’d ever come back here. Are you worried about seeing him at church?”

“He’s been staying at the farm,” Faith confessed.

Harriet set down her applicator brush. “He’s what? You’ve seen him already? Has he been nice to you?” She was the only person who knew how horribly things had ended between Faith and Dean. Faith had cried on her shoulder more times than she could count.

“It’s been awkward. It’s like nothing and everything’s changed since the last time I saw him. And he wants Sawyer.”

“What?”

“Dean wants him to come to Nashville with him to record some music. He heard him sing at the Sundown on Friday.”

“Sawyer wouldn’t leave you.”

“I know.” Faith swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. “He’s not going to go. We have NETA coming to do the accreditation visit next weekend. Summer camps start in a month. He can’t go—I can’t do this without him.”

Harriet went back to her makeup. “You don’t need to worry about any of it. Everything is going to work out. You got two angels up in heaven looking out for you.”

Faith wanted to believe that. “Thanks again for the flowers.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. Can I still count on you to help me out on Tuesday?”

Faith didn’t feel right taking the flowers for free and Harriet refused to take her money, so once or twice a month, Faith helped at the shop in exchange for the bouquets. This Tuesday was busier than usual, but Faith couldn’t say no.

“I’ll be here.” She started to go. “Sawyer and Dean are waiting for me. I’ll see you at church.”

“Hey,” Harriet said to get her attention one last time. “Don’t let him feed that guilt of yours. You understand me?”

Faith nodded and gave Harriet a reassuring smile even though deep down she knew it wasn’t possible. Dean had been home less than forty-eight hours and her guilt was back with a vengeance and a voracious hunger.