Читать книгу His Hometown Girl - Jillian Hart - Страница 9

Chapter Two

Оглавление

An emergency call came when he was finished with Karen’s car. The early ’70s model with a rusting olive-green paint job managed to start after several attempts. There was no doubt about it—the car needed serious help.

He shut off the ignition, tucked the spare key back into place behind the visor and climbed out into the scorching sunshine.

Karen’s scent from her car seat—a combination of baby shampoo and vanilla—clung to his shirt. A sharp ache of longing speared through him, old and familiar, and he ignored it. Over the years he’d gotten good at ignoring it. The scent tickled his nose as he ambled across the gravel lot. He ignored that, too.

The coffee shop looked like it was quieting down. The group of tourists must have headed out, now that their bus was as good as new. He didn’t have time to step inside and wait for Karen to get back from her errands, not with an elderly woman’s radiator boiling over in this heat.

There was nothing else to do but to hop into his truck and let the air-conditioning distribute the faint scent of vanilla and baby shampoo.

Great. That was going to remind him of Karen for the rest of the afternoon.

When he’d been patching up her cut, he’d been close enough to see the shadows in her dream-blue eyes. He hated that there wasn’t a thing he could do to comfort her.

Anyone could see a woman as fine as Karen belonged with a man like Jay, a man with a big future ahead of him. And even on the off chance that Karen didn’t marry Jay, it wasn’t as if Zach had a chance with her. Not a man who’d grown up on the outskirts of town in a rusty old trailer.

He took a ragged breath, vowing to put her out of his mind. He checked for traffic on the quiet street and pulled out of the alley.

As he drove down the main street, he saw Karen coming out of the town’s combination florist and gift shop. His pulse screeched to a stop at the sight of her. She didn’t see him, walking away from him the way she was, so he could take his time watching her. Karen was fine, all right, and as beautiful as a spring morning. Head down, long light brown hair tumbling forward over her face, she carried a live plant that was thick with yellow blossoms.

No, he wasn’t going to wish, he wasn’t going to want.

Some things weren’t meant to be.

Zach headed the truck east away from town and did the only thing he was allowed to do for Karen McKaslin. He said a prayer for her.

Karen watched as her gramma’s spotless classic Ford eased slowly into the cemetery parking lot. The rumble of the engine broke the peace of the late afternoon.

She stood, squinting against the brilliant sun, and left Allison’s flower-decorated grave. She waited while her grandmother parked her car and then emerged, clutching a bouquet of white roses.

“I recognized your rattletrap of a car in the lot.” Gramma held her arms wide. “How’s my girl?”

“Fine. I’m just fine.” Karen dodged the bouquet and stepped into her grandmother’s hug. More warmth filled her, and all the worries bottled up inside her eased. “I shouldn’t have left you with the shop like that. I shouldn’t have let you bully me.”

“You were powerless to stop me.” Gramma stepped away, squinting carefully, measuring her with a wise, sharp-eyed glare. “Don’t try to fool me, young lady. You don’t look fine. You look like you’re missing your sister.”

“She was my best friend.”

“I know.” Gramma’s voice dipped, full of understanding. “Let me go set these on her grave. She loved white roses so much.”

Tears burned in Karen’s throat, and it hurt to remember. She remained in the shade of the oaks, so that her grandmother would have time alone at Allison’s grave.

Karen watched as the older woman ambled across the well-manicured grounds, through lush green grass and past solemn headstones.

Sorrow surrounded this place, where bright cheerful flowers and a few colorful balloons decorated graves. At the other end of the cemetery, she could see another family laying flowers on a headstone in memory.

Time had passed, taking grief with it, but Karen didn’t think anything could fix the emptiness of Allison’s absence in her life or in her family. Not time, not love or hope.

She waited while her grandmother laid the flowers among the dozens of others. She waited longer while the older woman sank to her knees, head bowed in prayer.

In the distance, a lawn mower droned, and overhead, larks chirped merrily. It was like any other summer afternoon, but this day was different.

“Now that I’ve given thanks for the granddaughters I still have, I’m ready to go.” Gramma took Karen’s hand. “I closed the shop for you, so there’s no sense hurrying back this late in the day just to open it for an hour. Why don’t you come home with me and give me a hand?”

“You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Good, because I promised your mother that I would make sure supper’s on the table tonight, not that anyone will feel much like eating. But since she’s my daughter, I’ll do whatever she’ll let me do. And if that’s to make my famous taco cheese and macaroni casserole, then so be it.”

“What about Mom? Dad’s busy with the harvest. Maybe I should run home first and see how she is. Make sure she isn’t alone.”

“One of your sisters is with her—Kirby, I think. I called from the shop before I came here.”

Karen felt the sun on her face, the wind tangling her hair and the disquiet in her heart. So many responsibilities pulled at her, but she could feel her grandmother’s love. Because they were standing in a cemetery with both life and death all around, she nodded, unable to say the words.

There was never enough time on this earth to spend with loved ones. It was a truth she couldn’t ignore, not after losing Allison. Time was passing even as she let Gramma lead her toward the parking lot where their cars waited in the shade.

“Do you need me to stop by the store and pick up anything?” Karen asked as she opened her car door.

“I already did. No grass grows under these feet,” Gramma answered, her blue eyes alight with many emotions.

Karen’s throat tightened, and she climbed into the driver’s seat. Even with the windows rolled down to let in the temperate breezes, she could still smell the scents of mechanic’s grease and Old Spice, evidence of the man who’d sat behind this wheel only hours ago.

A rumble of a powerful engine drew her attention. In her rearview mirror she caught sight of Zach’s blue-and-white tow truck rolling up the driveway.

She turned the key in the ignition and gave the gas pedal a few good pumps, and the engine started and died. Started and died. Started and coughed to life. Gramma was parked at the edge of the lot, patiently waiting.

Karen put her car in gear and pulled around, having only enough time to wave to Zach as he rumbled into one of many empty parking spots. He lifted a hand in return. The tips of yellow blossoms waved above the dash, and she sped away, somehow touched beyond words.

She knew without asking that he’d brought flowers for her sister’s grave.

“Is this why you asked me over?” Karen turned to her grandmother the minute she stepped foot inside the kitchen door. “Don’t tell me you’ve taken up Mom and Dad’s cause?”

“What cause, dear?” Gramma set her purse and keys on the nearby counter.

“Trying to show me how wrong I am to call off my wedding.” Trying to control her anger, Karen pointed at the sunny picture window. Over the top of the short cedar fence, she could see Jay mowing his mother’s lawn next door. “I’m not going to be pressured about this.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you.” Gramma circled around the polished oak table and headed for the refrigerator.

“No, but silence speaks volumes.” Karen turned her back on the window. She wouldn’t let the guilt in. “You think I’m going to forgive him and marry him anyway, just like Mom does. Like everyone does.”

“I respect your choice, either way.” Gramma set two cans of diet cola on the counter. “Of course, Jay is awfully handsome. He’s dependable and easy on the eyes.”

“He doesn’t love me, Gramma.”

“Then why on earth did he propose to you?”

Karen didn’t answer. She couldn’t admit the truth. If Allison were alive, she would have been able to confide in her, but who else would understand?

Karen watched as her grandmother calmly scooped ice into two glasses. She worked methodically, easily, content with the silence. Tall and slim, she looked comfortable in her usual flowered dress and low, sensible shoes.

“Sit down.” With a clink Gramma set the glasses on the round oak table and looked through her glasses perched on her nose. “Tell me all about it.”

“About what?”

“What’s taken away my favorite granddaughter’s smile.”

“I don’t want to talk about Jay.” Karen pulled out a chair and settled onto the cushioned seat. “Or how I’m looking thirty in the face and don’t have any better prospects.”

“Fine. Then we won’t talk about Jay.” Gramma took a sip of soda, understanding alight in her eyes. “Most of my friends have great-grandchildren by now. Nora was one of the last holdouts. Then her granddaughter married Matthew and got those triplet boys. I don’t suppose I’m going to be that lucky.”

“Don’t count on it. I see where you’re going with this. You’re trying to get me to talk about my breakup with Jay.”

“Not at all. I’m just sharing some of my troubles with you for a change. At my last Ladies’ Aid meeting, Lois had new pictures of her adorable great-granddaughter.”

“You’re feeling left out. Is that it?”

“Yes, but you don’t look very sorry for me.”

“Sure I am. I’m hiding it deep inside.”

Gramma’s eyes twinkled, full of trouble. “If you went ahead and married Jay, then in a year or so I’d have my own great-grandbaby to show off. I’ve got to keep up with my friends.”

“I see. It’s a status thing. Like having a new car or the right house?”

“Exactly.”

Karen ran a finger through the condensation on the outside of her glass. “Jay has one semester left at seminary, and then he wants me to sell the coffee shop.”

“Why is that?”

“He needs me to help him with his career. A pastor’s wife belongs at her husband’s side, he told me. Then he asked how much equity I had in the building.”

“I see.” Gramma nodded sagely. “You and Allison opened that shop together. It would be hard to sell just for the money.”

“I got angry and so did he. He said some harsh things—” She took a deep breath. “He told me the real reason he wanted to marry me. Because I was someone he could count on. I work hard, I know how to run a business and I’m comfortable, like an old friend. He needs someone dependable to help him with his career.”

“I see.” Gramma lowered her glass to the polished table. Ice cubes clinked in the silence between them. “Those words must have been hard to hear from the man you loved.”

“I was in love with him.”

“Not anymore?”

“How can it be love, if he doesn’t love me back?” Anguish filled her. “Everyone tells me I’m wrong. I should be lucky to have a man like Jay who wants to marry me. He’s going to go far, and he’ll be a good husband.”

“They don’t know the real story, do they? You haven’t told this to anyone but me.”

“Not even Mom.” Karen let out a shaky sigh. She’d never felt so confused in her life. “I don’t know what to do. Am I wrong? I love Jay—at least a part of me did—and is that enough? Do I settle for friendship? Or am I throwing away something good? It feels as if I’ve done the right thing and the wrong thing all at the same time. You were married to Granddad for thirty years, so tell me what you think.”

“I know one thing.” Gramma reached across the table and her warm, caring hand covered Karen’s. “Love without passion is like lukewarm water. It’s not good for much.”

“Then you think I did the right thing?”

“I think you should do whatever makes you happy. Forever is a long time with a man who doesn’t love you the way you want to be loved.”

Some of the weight lifted from her chest, and Karen managed to take a sip of soda. “I thought you wanted great-grandchildren.”

“I want my granddaughter to be happy. That’s more important to me than anything in this world, even keeping up with Lois.” Gramma’s fingers squeezed gently, a reminder of the love Karen had known her entire life. “It’s tough when the man you’re interested in thinks you’re a cup of lukewarm tea. I have the same problem with Clyde.”

“Clyde Winkler, the man you’ve been seeing?”

“You look surprised.” Gramma took a long sip of her cola. “What? You don’t think a woman my age can have a love life, is that it?”

“I’m speechless.”

“And do you know what I’ve figured out? Men are all the same. They haven’t changed a bit since 1940. Still as thickheaded as ever.”

“Surely not every man in existence.”

“The one I’m interested in, at least.” Gramma stared out the window, where the drone of Jay’s mower grew louder, then began fading away. “I’ll tell you something I’ve never told a living soul. Once, I was in the same situation you’re in.”

“You called off a wedding?” Karen leaned closer. “With Granddad?”

“I almost did. I was younger than you are now, but back then, girls married much younger. All my friends from school had husbands, and I desperately wanted to get married. More than anything. Oh, what plans I had! I wanted a house of my own, children to raise and a man to take care of.”

“Which you did. Granddad was wonderful.”

“But he wasn’t the love of my life.” The confession was a quiet one, hardly loud enough to be heard above the hum of the air-conditioning.

Karen dropped her glass. Ice cubes and soda sloshed over the rim and onto the table.

Gramma calmly reached for the napkin holder and began mopping up the mess. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

“But you loved Granddad. I know you did. I saw you together.”

“I did love him in a hundred different ways. As my husband, as the father of my children, as my best friend. But not in the most wondrous way. He never said, but I know that he felt it, too. He tried and I tried. While we made a life together, we lacked something important.” Gramma rose and dropped the wet napkins in the garbage container. “We didn’t have a deep emotional connection. That was something we couldn’t make together, no matter how hard we tried.”

I don’t believe it, Karen thought. Denial speared through her. Her grandparents had always been happy together.

No, seemed happy together, she corrected herself. And as she watched her gramma’s shoulders slump and felt the truth in the air, Karen realized the pain her grandmother must have silently lived with every day of her marriage.

When Gramma straightened, what looked like sadness and regret marked her face. “Your granddad told me once that he was glad to be with such a reliable woman. That out of all the women he could have married, he’d been lucky to wind up with me.

“Reliable.” Her voice shook a little. “I loved Norman deeply, but not deeply enough. Just as he could never love me. Even now I wonder what it would have been like for us if we’d managed to figure out what we were missing. We were never really happy. We were never truly unhappy. Lukewarm.”

Karen stood and paced to the window. She could see Jay in his mother’s backyard, pushing the mower. Tall and dependable, he was a handsome man with golden hair and sun-bronzed skin. The faint growl of the engine rumbled through the glass, and looking at the man whose ring she’d worn made sadness weigh on her heart. “Granddad wasn’t your true love.”

“I made a life with him and it worked out fine. I was blessed. I won’t say otherwise.” Gramma paused, letting the silence fall between them. “But a woman yearns to be something more than ‘reliable’ or ‘comfortable’ to the man she loves.”

Karen turned from the window, relief filling her. “That’s the real reason why I broke the engagement. It wasn’t only about the coffee shop. He doesn’t really love me, so how will he feel about me in ten years?”

“Love can grow and deepen with time.” Gramma slipped an arm around Karen’s shoulder. “But there are never any guarantees. Are you having regrets?”

“I know I hurt him. He’s a fine man, but he’s not the right one. I’ve prayed and prayed over it. Mom thinks I’m being foolish. But you don’t.”

“No, I don’t. Did the Lord answer your prayers?”

“No. No confirmation either way.”

“You’re a good girl. God will answer you. Be patient.”

“See, that’s my problem. I’m not good. I’m just average.”

“Average? My granddaughter? Nonsense.” Gramma marched Karen to the table and gestured for her to sit. “You are a bright, beautiful young woman and as good as can be. I ought to know, since I’m your grandmother. A woman my age is wise about these things.”

“You’re biased.”

“I guess love will do that.” Gramma ran her fingers through Karen’s brown hair. “Do you know what I think?”

“I’m afraid to guess.”

“You might look good as a blonde. Ever think of that?”

“What do you mean? Color my hair? What does that have to do with this conversation?”

“You’d be surprised.” Gramma looked up into the mirror on the wall behind the kitchen table. “I’ve been thinking about getting rid of this gray hair. Maybe that’s my problem. If I dyed my hair red and bought a sports car, I wouldn’t be the same old reliable Helen.”

“You wouldn’t be the grandmother I know and love.”

“I’m not getting any younger, so why wait? And at my age, what am I waiting for? I want something different than spending most of my days in this lonely house. I want to know passion in my life. That’s what I want.”

Karen twisted around in her chair, surprised at the unhappiness etched on her grandmother’s face.

“You and I have the same problem, Karen. We’ve been good girls all our lives and in my case, it’s been a few decades too long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been living a lukewarm life for sixty years now, and that’s not how I want to be remembered. I don’t want people to say, ‘Helen was nice,’ at my funeral. I want them to say, ‘Remember the fun we had the day Helen drove us through town in her new convertible.’”

Karen’s hand trembled, and she didn’t know what to say. Today at the cemetery, she’d felt the same—that time on this earth was too short to spend with regrets.

Sympathy for her grandmother filled her. “If you want, I’ll go with you to the beauty shop. We’ll get your hair done so you’ll look beautiful.”

“Thank you, dear. I knew you’d understand.” Gramma held her close, and Karen hugged her long and hard, grateful for this grandmother she loved so much.

His Hometown Girl

Подняться наверх