Читать книгу Now She's Back - Anna Adams - Страница 13
ОглавлениеTHE ONLY GYMS in Bliss were located in the resorts on the mountain. Many of them opened their doors to local residents, and Noah chose the one with the largest heated pool. The morning after the meeting, when he’d finished working out with free weights, he changed for a swim.
The second he kicked off, his breathing settled into a rhythm and his body took over. He heard only water, saw only pool and the ceiling overhead. The laps he swam healed him. He trusted these mornings to shut out the world and his discomfort in it.
No one here needed anything from him. He had complete control. And propelling along the lane was like flying.
It was better than sinking into a bottle of vodka—an instinct he feared—or using his fists to pound the town council into working for the good of their constituents. Such thoughts drove him to swim longer, faster.
Today, he didn’t have to think. Emma, leaning against the library conference room doorway, confused, interested, troubled about Megan, flashed in his mind and refused to leave. Behind that image, he saw his first mistake: accepting her help. He’d sworn he’d stay away from her. He’d even argued with his mother about checking on Owen simply because he’d dreaded the possibility of seeing Emma, fearing the encounter would bring all his old rage back to the forefront.
When she’d left town, he’d nearly broken his jaw in his struggle to repress his anger at her ultimatum—that he could either throw his life and plans away to follow her, or she would leave without him.
That moment, when he’d realized she had no compassion for anyone except herself, had changed him. He didn’t want to love a woman like Emma, who’d used walking away as a weapon. She had problems with her mother, who loved too much, and her father, who’d been a cold fish until Megan had thawed him.
Noah swam on, completely happy to drown his feelings.
Then he heard a splash. Deana, who handed out towels at the pool entrance, had warned him a few weeks ago that a new swimmer had joined the pool, but Noah had evaded that company until today. He kept his head down.
* * *
“WHY IS YOUR hair so wet?” Brett Candler asked as Emma climbed out of her car in front of Baby Bliss, a store that sold fancy baby goods at exorbitant prices. “Where did you find a pool this time of year?”
Emma hugged her father one-armed, the Candler hugging maneuver that required only a moment’s contact. “Do you get any exercise at all, Dad?”
“Don’t tell Megan, but I’ve started running the lane between our house and your grandmother’s.”
“Why not tell her? She’d probably be glad you’re running.”
“Well, it’s more like odd raceZwalking,” he said. “And I don’t want her to see that.”
“I’ll keep my relationship advice to a minimum, Dad, but she might like to odd-race walk with you. In fact, I would, too.”
“You can. I don’t mind if you see me struggling. I’ll text when I’m heading your way in the evenings, but the day I’m breaking land speed records, I’ll fill her in. For now, she thinks I’m checking the fencing around both houses.”
“I think she’s brighter than that.”
Brett held the door to the shop for her. “She tells me you had a good talk.”
“She was honest and sweet and invited me to stop being a jerk. I’m accepting her invitation.” Emma glanced up, catching her father’s stunned expression. “She didn’t put it that way, Dad. Don’t you know her?”
“For a second, you made me wonder if you’d argued with her.”
“I love a little drama, but I’d prefer to stop having it with people.” Emma avoided her father’s anxious gaze. She had to make things right with Megan. She studied the Baby Bliss items. “What about a stroller, Dad? Megan said you have a crib.”
“A stroller. I don’t think we have one of those.”
“What colors?” There were bright ones, girly ones and basic color wheel options.
“She’s using a lot of green in the nursery.”
“Green.” Emma crossed to the wall where strollers hung in rows. “You don’t think she’d rather choose her own?”
“Aren’t they all pretty much alike?”
They looked like armored field equipment. “I guess. She can always return it for something she’d prefer.”
“Good idea.” He grabbed the nearest dangling wheel. “How about this one?”
“It’s more than the thought that counts.” Emma perused the selection. “You’re having a girl, but pink would probably get dirty. Maybe I could get brown with accents of pink.” She looked at one mostly covered in brown, with bubbly-looking cats in bows scattered across fields of pink on the seat and the underside of the roof.
“That’s too expensive,” Brett said. “You can’t spend that much money on us, Emma.”
“Megan needs to know I’m on board with the baby.”
“You’re trying now. It’s all I ask.” He sounded uncomfortable, and she looked him right in the eye, so he’d know she wasn’t pretending.
“Liking Megan isn’t an effort.” Getting over her own don’t-abandon-me, clinging instincts was where she always got stuck. “Megan’s nice, and she loves you.”
His smile changed him into a person she’d never known, a relaxed, happy person. “I know she does,” he said. “No matter how much gossip she endures about our stereotypical May-December romance.”
“You aren’t stereotypical. Megan came here instead of trying to lure you to New York. She has to work like any outsider for trust. I didn’t show up to support you, and I doubt Mother has been a cheerleader for your relationship.”
“I don’t see much of Pamela, and Megan sees less of her. Not that I don’t think Megan could handle her. We just have no reason to visit with her.”
“I haven’t seen her yet either.” And there was no reason to discuss her mother with her father. She pointed at the gamboling kittens. “I’m thinking this one. Do you like it?”
“I’m not letting you buy that. It costs more than my first car.”
Most of the shops in Bliss sold goods more likely to be found on Rodeo Drive. Bliss’s architecture was protected in its pristine, nineteenth-century origins, but pricing was always right up-to-date.
Emma slipped a card from the Bliss Baby-decorated plastic pocket beneath the carriage. “You’re not that old, Dad, and Owen discovered that someone had insulated the back bathroom walls downstairs. The insulation was neither toxic to humans nor irresistible to termites. So I have mad money.”
“That you should put in the bank.”
“My account is healthy enough.”
“Is Owen overcharging you on anything?”
She glanced at her father as they approached the checkout counter. “Did you hear me say he’d saved me money?”
“He didn’t save it. Someone simply completed that work, so he didn’t have to charge you to redo it. I wonder when your grandmother had it done.”
Emma’s father had never been at ease with his mother-in-law’s lack of need for his advice.
“Owen didn’t have to tell me. I’m so clueless he could have double-charged me for insulation I don’t need.”
“I’d better check out this work he’s doing.”
“I wish you would, actually. You renovated our house when I was in elementary school. You know what to look for.”
“Then you are concerned.”
“Not with Owen. With my lathe and plaster—whatever amount the termites couldn’t stomach.”
“I’ll come. I feel guilty I didn’t force you to let me take care of important issues like your termite treatment on that house while you were gone.”
“That wasn’t your job, Dad. I should have hired someone to manage the property.”
“I should have just taken over. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it, except Louisa never really appreciated my finer qualities so I didn’t feel welcome at her house.” He shrugged. “I did hear some gossip the other day.”
Emma closed her eyes, sighing. An overly curious farming neighbor had always kept himself up-to-date on Nan’s doings, too. “Something to do with Hank Kuchar hearing Noah’s car grind up my driveway?”
“He thought I might want to know that the jerk who jilted you was dropping by early on a Saturday.”
“I jilted Noah, Dad.”
“After his father threw you down the stairs and then blamed it on you?”
“He didn’t throw me. He was too close to Nan, and we both tumbled down the stairs. But I am glad you take up for me when you hear that lie.”
“I told you not to leave then. People thought you started that whole mess at your grandmother’s. On Thanksgiving morning. That was a scandal that took some chewing.” He took the card from her hand. “Why did you hire Owen Gage to work on your house? You’re not trying to catch Noah’s attention again, are you?”
She shouldn’t have come back, even for a visit. “If there’s a worst to think around here, someone will think it. Noah assumed the same thing, as if I’d repeat my worst mistakes. I can manage my life without you or Noah trying to point out where I go wrong. I can hire my own contractor and buy my own stepmother a stroller for my half sister.”
Brett caught her sweater sleeve, pulling her to a stop in the wide, not so crowded aisle. “Don’t call your sister that. Megan’s hoping you’ll be able to accept her without the half or step, or whatever it is.”
Emma brought her hand to her father’s to reassure him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. She will be my sister. My whole sister. I’m looking forward to spoiling her.”
“How will you do that if you don’t stay?”
They reached the counter, and she pushed the little Take-Me card across the counter. A woman in clothing and jewelry Emma wouldn’t be able to afford if she sold her termite-ravaged house for an unexpected windfall ran a scanner over the price tag. She also took Emma’s credit card, bringing it close to her face to inspect it.
“I’m supposed to ask for a peek at your ID, but as long as you’re with Councilman Candler...” she said, her simpering even more offensive for its underpinning of sincerity.
Even her father stiffened. Bliss had more than its share of good, honest mountain people, but it also offered work to plenty of stuffed, appearance-conscious shirts.
“This is my daughter, Mrs. Link.”
“I’d heard she’d left...” The woman broke off as if she’d realized she shouldn’t share everything she’d heard. “Speaking of which, my husband told me Dr. Gage presented his updated proposals to the council again. When will that arrogant man learn?”
Emma kept her expression neutral. Even her father’s mouth looked pinched. Noah could be arrogant, but this woman was just stirring up trouble. She was the sort of person Emma had dreaded meeting when she came back to the little town, focused on creating appearances to bring in big tourist money.
Emma signed her receipt as a purple-aproned clerk brought the new stroller, already unfolded and ready for service, to the front of the store. Emma took the handles and maneuvered it through the shop doors.
“I feel their eyes on me.”
“You’re fine.”
At her dad’s Range Rover, they had to consult helpful drawings on the carriage’s tags to learn the mysteries of folding a stroller. At last they managed and hoisted it into the back of his vehicle.
Emma took her seat beside him in the front. “What’s that woman’s problem with Noah?”
“Why do you care? You’re over the guy.”
“I went to the meeting he held at the library last night.”
Her father turned to face her. “Why would you do that? You’re not even staying.”
“It’s my home. I pay taxes on Nan’s house. I have a right to speak. Or listen.”
“But don’t get involved. You’ll make us a spectacle.”
“Again?” she asked.
“That wasn’t your fault. I’m not saying you caused a scandal when you left. You needed to escape this place.”
“But are you withholding your approval of the clinic because of what happened between Noah and me?”
“Of course not.” He started the car and turned toward Main Street. “Not anymore, anyway.”
“Why would you? I’m the one who delivered an ultimatum and left town.”
“Because Noah could not put you first. Maybe you were just engaged too long.”
“Considering he was still in school, I’d say not, but I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Then we’ll clear the air about the clinic. We on the council have to live with the covenants the town council of 1962 established. They set architectural standards, and they also left a standard for the kinds of businesses we can accept and still live up to the premise we offer the outside world.”
“Premise? You mean that this is a winter wonderland where nothing more dangerous than a sprained ankle occurs? That’s wrong. We’ve had heart attacks and head injuries. We’ve had mothers who’ve lost their children, and children who’ve lost parents.”
“Don’t try to manipulate me. More citizens are on our side than Noah’s.”
“I’m guessing not one of your bunch has had a truly sick child or run afoul of a chainsaw.”
“Or eaten a meal that resulted in food poisoning. We’ve heard it all, Emma.”
“Have you thought of Megan?”
“If my wife had an emergency due to her pregnancy, I’d buy a helicopter if I had to.”
“Nice, Dad. Will you do that for Guy Coake’s wife? I noticed she’s pregnant.”
She’d almost accidentally rammed the woman with a grocery cart. Josie Coake, wife of the best pancake chef in town, had been sampling a dubious-looking, bagged pickle.
“Let it go,” her father said.
Josie was the type of medical case who’d appeal to Bliss’s voting public. Her husband cooked all hours, and she stayed home to care for their children. They’d sold their second car to free themselves from the payment. They wouldn’t be buying a helicopter.
“People like Josie are lucky Noah stayed back here to practice,” Emma said.
“He always knows what to do for a family in need. You were the only one who couldn’t depend on him.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not staying.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I got angry,” Brett said.
“I know how that works. As you said, let it go.”
* * *
“OWEN, I SHOULDN’T be out here.” Emma looked over the Halloween festival booths half set up on the courthouse lawn. “I haven’t been doing much in town. I bought a stroller. I work at the library and coffee shop.”
“Just occupy yourself. They need help with the judging stand. I won’t be long. Look—over there—Marcy Harrigan with the balloons. I’ll bet she could use some help.”
“But what if she thinks I shoved your father down Nan’s stairs?”
“Tell her to mind her own business. I find that works well.”
“I’d rather walk home and finish cleaning the kitchen cabinets.”
“I’ve seen you work with tools,” Owen said. “We don’t have Noah’s clinic yet, and I don’t trust him to do stitches on you.”
“Funny.” She had no choice. She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll do it.”
“I can introduce you to Marcy.”
“I’ve known her since kindergarten,” Emma said, marching toward one of the old friends who had plenty of reason to think the worst of her. Emma’s mother had preyed on Marcy’s father, too.
She wove between running children and snatched up blowing papers. The papers she slid into the rubbish barrel beside her former friend.
“Emma,” Marcy said, “I’m surprised to see you.”
“Just back to do some repairs on my grandmother’s house.”
“Good. Then you’ll be leaving again?”
Emma felt a pang. Almost automatically, she wanted to mutter her standard, “I didn’t shove him,” but Marcy might have their respective parent’s affair on her mind.
“You can’t help that your face reminds so many people of such bad times,” Marcy said. “You wouldn’t believe the talk when you left town. Not the kind of talk that leads tourists to believe this is a happy place.”
“Yeah.” Emma glanced back at Owen, who offered her a thumbs-up. She didn’t have to live in the past, even if her face took other people back there. “Owen thought I might be able to help you.”
“I do have more important things to do. Let me show you how to use this helium tank.”
“Marcy, why do you care about me showing my face around here?”
“Do you know how many of our fathers your mother slept with? Flirted with? Drank with? How many of our mothers came close to leaving those fathers? The only good thing your family ever did happened the day you shoved Odell Gage down those stairs. The rest of the fathers in town wised up and stopped playing around with Pamela Gage.”
“I didn’t shove— Why does that mean I’m not welcome back?”
“It was a soap opera. You pining after Noah, blaming him because he couldn’t control his father and mother. It was ridiculous.”
“And it made for bad press?”
“The only thing worse than no snow is a story about a domestic dispute. It puts people off.”
“No matter what the real story might be?”
Marcy stretched a balloon over the tank’s nozzle. “No one cares about the truth. We just don’t want that sort of thing to happen again. Your mother works in the basement at the courthouse. Hardly anyone sees her. Your father is blissfully happy. Noah’s even stirring up worthwhile trouble. You come back to town, and how long is it till you start chasing him again? Then his guard goes down, and his father sneaks back. It could be a nightmare. I’ve seen Odell lurking around a couple of times in the past few months. Like you, he must think the coast is clear.”
Emma stared at her. “This is insane.”
“You shouldn’t have asked. It’s what I think. You were as much one of your mother’s victims as I was. Why do you want to come back?”
“I don’t, but you’ve made up this whole scenario, and you’re willing to treat me as if it’s true?”
“If you aren’t going to live here, you can’t prove you’re trustworthy. You’re just someone who owns a great house on the mountain, but you don’t want to live in it.”
“And if I did come back, I’d be a troublemaker?”
“You were before.”
She hadn’t been so much a troublemaker as someone who attracted trouble. She didn’t know how many times she’d cried her way home because Noah had abandoned her for a family crisis. He was old enough to handle his life. She hadn’t been.
“Show me the balloon thing again.”
“I can get someone else.”
“I said I’d do it.” For a second Emma was tempted to shout that she’d stay and prove her fellow citizens were just killing time with soap operas about her life. But Marcy had skirted the truth, and Emma didn’t want to be part of those nearly true stories again. It didn’t mean she couldn’t act like any other Halloween-festival volunteer. A normal person who lived in Bliss, Tennessee.
Until Owen finished the work on Nan’s house.
Marcy showed her again before she went on to her more important errands. Emma had a few false starts, but she concentrated on her work and ignored any sign of curiosity from her former friends and neighbors.
She slipped an orange balloon over the nozzle on the tank. As she activated the pump, the balloon expanded, and a cat swelled to arching life on its side. The trick was getting the thing off and tying a ribbon around it. She had a pile of balloons to finish before Owen was ready to leave for his paying job. At her house.
Peter Franklin, toddler son of another volunteer, kept leaving the petting zoo set up on the courthouse lawn, to help Emma collect runaway balloons that popped off the nozzle before she could tie them. Emma wrestled the cat balloon into submission and started a black one decorated with a happy, non-threatening ghost.
She whipped it off the nozzle, held it to her stomach and roped it with a long length of ribbon.
“That ghost isn’t scary,” Peter said. “We aren’t babies, you know.”
“You have a baby sister,” Emma said. “Your mom told me so the last time she asked you to stay inside the petting zoo.”
He ignored her less than subtle reminder. While she wouldn’t let the little runaway escape, the last thing she needed was Peter’s mom accusing her of putting a kindergartner to work.
“My little sister has a ghost of her own. Mom pretends it’s an imaginary friend, but Becca and I talk to Sebastian all the time.” He scratched his nose. “Becca tells me what Sebastian says.”
“That’s pretty creepy. How many other Sebastians do you know?”
“Just Becca’s. He’s pretty bossy. Like you.” Peter offered her a purple ribbon as a shadow crossed her arm.
Emma turned and froze, but Peter held up his arms to Noah.
“Hey, kiddo.” Without so much as a glance at Emma, Noah scooped Peter up and deposited him inside the fence where a goat immediately took a gentle nibble of his hair. “Your mom says you love the goats and llamas.”
“Llamas spit.” Peter stopped and gathered some saliva in his mouth. “Like this,” he said with an impressive display. Emma barely kept herself from leaping out of the line of fire, but Noah stuck like glue to the tall, leaf-strewn grass, and Peter stuck out his chest. “My dad taught me.”
“Your dad?” Emma looked around for the missing father. So many new people had come to Bliss in the past few years.
“Ted Franklin. He’s deployed,” Noah said, “for the second time. He went first the week after Peter was born.”
“He isn’t home much,” Peter said, looking strong, sounding wistful.
“I say we have a spitting contest right here and now,” Emma said. “So you’ll be in practice when he gets home again.”
Peter’s tiny fist shot into the air as he yelled “Yes!”
Noah stared at Emma as if he’d never seen her before, but he offered Peter a fist bump. Emma considered him brave for touching the little guy’s hand if the boy practiced his spitting skills at all.
