Читать книгу Return To Love - Betsy St. Amant - Страница 12

“Have you lost your mind?” Gracie’s voice grated with frustration as she pulled her chair away from the table. The legs scratched against the concrete floor of the Gumbo Shop and she plopped into the seat with a glare. Carter and Andy had been seated on the other side of the outdoor patio—at least they’d taken her not-so-subtle hint about preferring to eat separately. Though after Carter’s reaction to the new wing honoring his dad, she was a little surprised he hadn’t turned and fled the city. Abandonment was his middle name, after all.

Lori raised her eyebrows in feigned innocence as she settled across the table and reached for her menu. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Gracie snatched the menu from her friend’s hands and leaned forward, her voice lowering to a hiss. “Are you trying to kill me with embarrassment? There’s got to be a better way to go.”

“Don’t be silly.” Lori took her menu again and opened it. “I’m just helping along the natural course of true love.”

“True love?” Gracie nearly choked on the words. She rested back in the chair and crossed her arms over her thumping heart. “Maybe a decade ago, Lori. Not now. No way.”

“I thought you said it was only seven years.” Lori grinned. “Hey, want to split the crawfish étouffée?”

Gracie shrugged. Annoyed as she was, she had to admit the crawfish sounded pretty good. Her stomach growled on cue. “Fine. Whatever.”

“You still buying?”

Gracie’s throat clenched.

“Just kidding! I know better than that.” Lori laughed. “Maybe I should get dessert to make it up to you. Chocolate brownie pie?”

Gracie chewed on her lower lip. Forgiveness would come at a price, all right—but what better payment than chocolate? “Okay, fine. With ice cream.”

Their truce settled, the girls tucked the menus away and gave drink requests to the waitress.

“So what was that all about?” Lori leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

“What was what all about?”

“Carter’s reaction to the new wing’s name. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

Gracie snorted. He probably had, in his mind anyway. No better way to heap shame on a man than by confronting him with one of his biggest mistakes. Served him right. “He was probably ashamed.”

“I thought he left you, not his father.” Lori frowned.

Gracie shrugged and averted her eyes, tired of the painful memories. “He left all of us.”

The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Gracie gratefully stabbed her straw into the ice, glad for the distraction. But Lori wouldn’t let it go.

“Do you think Carter will actually come to the fund-raiser?”

“Not if I don’t officially invite him.”

Lori’s gaze jerked to meet Gracie’s. “What do you mean? You have to!”

“No, I don’t. He wouldn’t want to come anyway. If he did, it’d just be out of pity or some twisted form of obligation.” Besides, she didn’t want the extra headache of Carter’s presence while trying to carry off the important evening. It was bad enough trying to choke down dinner knowing he was two hundred feet away. A lot was riding on the event’s success, and she wouldn’t—couldn’t—let an unsettling blast from her past rob the penguins of their new home.

That is, if she didn’t single-handedly determine their fate first by holding a gala with no band. She groaned inwardly.

“Well, you still have plenty of time to decide.” Lori set her jaw in that stubborn way of hers.

Gracie crossed her arms, mimicking Lori’s position. Fine, let her friend hope. It wouldn’t do any good, but at least it’d keep the peace for the next few days. Lori would figure it out eventually—when it came to Carter, no meant no. Gracie refused to acknowledge another option.

She was finished putting her hope in him.

“Just so you know, ‘It’s a Small World’ is playing in my head right now.” Andy grinned at Carter across the table at the Gumbo Shop. “Who would have thought the woman you’re so torn up about is none other than our Gracie Broussard?”

Carter glanced over his shoulder, even though he knew there was no way the women could hear them across the noisy restaurant. After Gracie’s obvious lack of interest in eating together, he and Andy gave the girls a head start and requested a table on the other side of the patio. Now the aroma of fresh garlic bread and Cajun cuisine tickled his nostrils, but the weight of seeing Gracie up close did permanent damage to his appetite. He set his fork in his nearly full bowl. “It is pretty weird that she goes to your church. Talk about a coincidence.”

“Maybe it’s more than that.” Andy sipped from his water glass, then squeezed another slice of lemon over the top. “I wouldn’t assume if I were you.”

“Point taken.” He pushed his bowl away.

“Too spicy?”

“Just not hungry.”

“Since when did a woman take away your appetite?”

Carter shrugged with a smile. “Since I grew a conscience.”

“Even guilty people need to eat.” Andy scooped a spoonful of rice onto his spoon.

“With all my regrets, if that wasn’t true I’d be a stick.” Man, he should have searched Gracie out over the past years. But what would he say? The proper apology or explanation still failed him. There just weren’t words adequate enough to express his stupidity, his immaturity—sure, he’d been a high school kid at the time, but no one deserved the treatment he’d given Gracie and his family. No one deserved the prank he played or the things he said that night on the pier—the last time they’d spoken before today. Even if there were reasons behind it that she still didn’t know.

Carter stirred his water glass with his straw. He thought he’d been protecting Gracie when he left. Hindsight, unfortunately, proved that hasty decision had backfired—and pounded the final nail in the coffin of their future.

“Everyone messes up.”

“But not everyone stabs their best friend in the back.” Just one of the many sins on his list. He’d had his chance with Gracie, and ruined it. There might never be full recovery from such a blow, but maybe he could stir up enough of their friendship to remind her of the good times, the times he didn’t make her cry—if she’d let him.

“Gracie’s got a good heart.” Andy wadded his straw wrapper. “I’d give her the benefit of the doubt before you write off any chance of fixing things between you.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Carter stared into the dark rue of his dinner, memories teasing the ripples in the broth. They’d been a good team, once upon a time. For instance, Gracie loved Oreos, but hated the cream filling. So they’d sit on the tall barstools at the counter in his mom’s kitchen and he’d eat the filling while she dunked the plain cookies in milk. Then there were the days spent riding tubes on the lake, camping with his family, and fishing off the pier. They rarely fought as kids, but when they did, Gracie would win from the sheer logic of her arguments. Carter learned early on that keeping up wasn’t worth the effort.

But her stubbornness could go both ways. Gracie was the only girl he knew who didn’t mind baiting her own hook—she’d even beaten him in a youth fishing tournament in sixth grade. The girl could accomplish anything she made up her mind to do, including shutting him out now.

“Did you know she was planning on naming the exhibit after my father?”

“No, she never mentioned that part, but then she didn’t know I knew you. There’s no use dwelling on the past, man. You’re a different person now.” Andy slurped the last of the gumbo from his spoon and leaned back from the table. “You know that, right?”

“Most days I believe it.” Carter started to look over his shoulder again but forced himself to face forward. No more looking back, wasn’t that what Andy was trying to tell him?

“But not today?”

Carter shook his head.

Andy sighed. “I’ll get you a carryout box.”

“You know, it doesn’t matter at this point if Carter comes to the gala or not. There won’t be much of one without any entertainment.” Gracie forced herself to pick her feet up from the floor instead of shuffle. She was trying hard not to have an Eeyore moment—as her mom always used to say when she started a pity party—but it was hard.

“Don’t worry, Gracie. Something will work out.” Lori shifted her Bible to her other hand and looped her free arm around Gracie’s shoulders. “I still think your idea of asking Andy to get the youth group involved was a great one.”

“Guess we’ll find out in a little while.” Gracie walked with Lori through the church office corridor toward the kitchen in the gymnasium. She needed caffeine—no, she needed money—and maybe a massage for the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders. So far she had a low advertising budget, a nonexistent decorating budget and no band. She hated to ask what else could go wrong, but really—what else could go wrong?

Lori dropped her Bible and notebook on the counter in the empty gymnasium and turned on the overhead lights. “The kids should be here any minute. You want a root beer? Or Diet Coke?” She moved toward the fridge.

“Diet Coke.” Gracie sank into one of the folding chairs near the counter and laid her Bible on top of Lori’s. She stared at the creased cover. God had always come through for her before—this time shouldn’t be any different. Still, an urgency pressed on her heart. Or maybe it was dread.

Lori shut the fridge door with her hip and slid Gracie’s soda across the counter to her. “Think positively. It shouldn’t be too hard to find another band.”

“A band for what?” Tawny Sinclair, a fellow youth group volunteer, breezed into the gym and headed for the refrigerator, her long brown hair streaming down her back in loose waves. “Any Diet Cokes left?”

“Two.” Lori rested her elbows on the counter in front of Gracie. “We were talking about the situation Gracie mentioned during Bible study earlier tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, the penguin thing?” Tawny flipped her bangs out of her eyes and brought her drink to the counter. “What about it, again?”

Gracie couldn’t help but notice Tawny’s low-cut sweater and hip-hugger jeans, not exactly church attire. Gracie sipped from her Diet Coke and studied the girl over the rim of the can, trying not to judge. Tawny had shown up for Bible study, and that was what really mattered. The rest would come in time.

Though apparently she hadn’t listened all that hard to what was said during group prayer.

“Yes, the penguin thing. Gracie needs a musician for her gala, ASAP.” Lori turned up her root beer, then wiped her mouth with her hand. “Not to mention some cash for the rest of the budget.”

“It’ll work out.” Tawny flicked her fingers in the air, dismissing the topic. “So anyway, did you see that new shoe store that opened on the riverfront? Totally adorable.”

Lori’s face lit. “I did, but haven’t been inside yet. Are they expensive?”

“Not for me.” Tawny opened her drink can with the aid of one manicured red fingernail and smirked.

Lori narrowed her eyes.

“Tawny, what did you think of the women’s class tonight?” Gracie interrupted before whatever thoughts Lori processed could escape. She sent her friend a be nice look. Tawny was still new to the singles group at the church—she seemed to honestly not realize how she came across to others at times, which was another reason why Gracie tried to befriend the girl. Everyone else seemed content to just gossip about her wardrobe choices and flirty behavior.

“It was okay, I guess.” She wrinkled her nose.

“I’m glad you came. It’s good to see you getting involved, I know that’s never easy in a new church.”

“Right. Thanks.” Tawny tucked her leopard print purse out of sight under the row of cabinets. “I guess we better get the snacks set out for the youth, huh?”

“They’d find them even if we hid them.” Lori washed her hands at the sink, then pulled a bulk package of cream-filled cookies from under the counter and began lining them on a tray. “They’re like junk-food magnets. Or vacuum cleaners.”

Gracie set out the paper cups and two-liters of various sodas. “I saw you helping them clean up last week.” She snorted. “If they were vacuums, you were an industrial-strength machine.”

“Whatever.” Lori tossed a broken cookie at Gracie, who caught it just as the gymnasium doors opened with a bang. Several of the youth hustled inside, laughing and shoving each other. Andy followed close behind, Carter on his heels toting a black guitar case.

The cookie slipped from Gracie’s fingers and crumbled on the counter. With all her worries about the gala budget, she’d forgotten about Carter’s performance tonight. But there was no putting it out of her mind anymore—there he was, dressed in worn jeans with shredded knees and a black button-down shirt. His usually rumpled, curly hair was gelled, and he’d shaved yesterday’s dark stubble from his cheeks.

“Breathe,” Lori mumbled, nudging Gracie with her hip as she stowed the cookie bag in the cabinet. She waved and smiled at Andy and Carter, who were moving toward the makeshift stage set up near the front of the gym.

Gracie straightened her shoulders and turned away from the men. “Where are the napkins?” She could do this. She’d just stay busy in the kitchen during Carter’s performance, then focus her attention after the show on the youth and on talking to Andy about fund-raising. No problem.

“Right here.” Tawny spun around from ripping open a bag of chips and handed over the pile of napkins.

Gracie took them from her outstretched hand, then realized Tawny’s gaze had locked on something over her shoulder. She turned to see Carter pulling his guitar from his case and strumming his pick over the strings. The soft melody echoed across the gym, carrying with it a sudden wave of memories.

Tawny’s breath caught and a slow, cat-like grin eased over her features. “Who’s the new guy?”