Читать книгу The Friendship Pact - Tara Taylor Quinn - Страница 8

Chapter Two

October 2001

“Come on, Bail, wear the black sweater we got last weekend. You know you look too hot to touch in it.” I held it out to her. The very expensive long, thin sweater was one of a number of garments we shared. We’d both chipped in for it—me from my allowance, and her from the money she made working in the college agricultural building three days a week.

“It’ll be perfect with those new jeans. They’re tight all the way down to your ankles. And with your wedge sandals...” I put my free hand to my lips and made a kissing gesture in the air.

“You wanted to wear it for homecoming.” Arms crossed, Bailey faced me in the middle of our dorm room.

“Yeah, but then I remembered this.” I grabbed a tie-dyed gauze number Mom had sent home with us the last time we visited.

“Danny’s already seen it.”

“Danny’s already seen everything underneath it, too,” I reminded her with a wicked grin. “Besides, he’s going to be paying more attention to a leather ball a bunch of guys are passing around than he is to me.”

I didn’t really believe that. Danny Brown might love the game of football enough that we’d decided to attend Wesley, a smaller college about an hour from home, rather than Penn State, when he got the Wesley football scholarship. But I always came first with him.

I had no worries there.

Bailey eyed the sweater. “You want to wear it tonight,” I said, handing it to her. “You know you do.”

“You just want me to wear it because Jake’s here,” she said.

That was the problem when your best friend had been your best friend since you were five and you lived with her and shared all your secrets, too. I didn’t even have to say a word and Bailey knew what was on my mind.

“You like him, Bailey.” That was the flip side; I knew her just as well.

“And you want me to marry him. Regardless of what I want.” Her tone was accusatory.

If I didn’t love Bailey so much, I’d have grown weary of this topic long ago. I’d have given up. But I did love her, more than almost anybody, so...

“I want you to have what you’ve always wanted, Bail. A home of your own, with a family who loves you and stays together.”

I had that family, had the promise of it continuing in my future, too, with Danny, and hadn’t done anything to get it or deserve it. Hadn’t had to work for it. Bailey, on the other hand, spent half her life watching her mother’s back, texting her brother, Brian, every hour to keep his spirits up, keeping in touch with stepsiblings and making sure she was part of her father’s life—and the other half watching out for me and trying to please my mom and dad. And I sensed that she still felt alone a lot of the time. No matter how connected my heart was to hers.

“You want me to have what you want,” she said softly, implying that she didn’t want what I wanted or what I had. But I knew her.

She did want what I had—a secure and loving family. Parents she could count on. A nice house, one that wasn’t filled with chaos and fraught with tension. Not only did she used to tell me that, it was why she’d practically moved in with me when we were kids.

I wanted to tell her that actions spoke louder than words, but I didn’t. Bailey was well aware of what I was thinking. And I felt convinced that I was right about her deep-down craving for a family of her own.

Letting the sweater dangle toward the ground, I gently squeezed Bailey’s shoulder with my free hand, looking deeply into those striking brown eyes, letting her look into my eyes—my soul—too.

“All I want is for you to be happy, Bail. And sometimes, you put up roadblocks.” I chose my words carefully. No matter how deeply you knew someone, sometimes words could hurt. Sometimes you reacted to them, got defensive and lost the truth along the way.

“I can’t help it.” Those brown eyes were wide open to me and my heart just about burst. Bailey’s hurt was my own. Like we were Siamese twins of the soul. “Your life...your heart...it’s always been protected, Kora. Mine hasn’t.”

In a flash I remembered Bailey’s whisper in the night five years ago, when she told me what Stan had done to her. And then had an instant replay of the day, our freshman year, when the sorority we’d pledged chose me and not her because my mother was an alumna, and hers hadn’t even attended college. They hadn’t said so, of course. Nor had they commented on the roughness around Bailey’s edges—a natural defensiveness—but I knew that was the real reason they’d shut their door in her face.

Mom, an active alumna, had called our advisor, of course, and Bailey was in, too. And now in our junior year, she chaired the Charitable Works Committee, which was so Bailey. But those protective walls around her heart had thickened and sometimes that scared me.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Other people didn’t know Bailey like I did.

Not even Danny. He didn’t get why I was so close with someone who seemed so cold.

But in some ways he was like Bailey. Needing a family to call his own. His folks were divorced, too, and Danny was kind of forgotten sometimes.

I’d tried to explain things to him. Over and over again. And Danny’s and Bailey’s inability to become real friends was all that kept me from accepting the secret proposal my high school lover had issued over the summer. Up on my special mountain, just outside town—the place I went when I needed to think. I wanted to marry Danny. Even more, probably, than he wanted to marry me, which was saying a lot based on how many times a week he begged me to make it official so all the other guys would know I was permanently taken.

But Bailey and Danny were still resisting each other, and I couldn’t go without Bailey. We were family. And that was that.

“But you like Jake,” I said now as Bailey, obviously restless, turned her head, glancing toward the closet. “Really like him,” I added, in case she thought this was one of those times I’d let her get by with less than the complete and painfully open truth.

Her head swung back toward me, and she stared silently. An acknowledgment that I was right. I could hear her and your point is? as clearly as if she’d said the words aloud.

“He likes you, too, Bail.” Most guys had the hots for my best friend. All of them wanted to have sex with her. They were attracted to the body; they just shied away from the person. But Jake...he saw beyond Bailey’s tough exterior to the sensitive, lonely and totally compassionate heart that beautiful, apparently cold exterior protected.

I wasn’t sure what it meant that Danny’s best friend understood Bailey way better than Danny did.

“I’m not going to date him.” Bailey’s face had stiffened, her voice adamant. “He’s over an hour away, and you saw how well all those girls at Penn State knew him when we were there last month.”

The three of us, Danny, Bailey and I, had gone home for the weekend and to be on Jake’s team at his frat’s annual fall kickoff.

“I didn’t notice Jake paying attention to anyone but you.” The guy was besotted with Bailey—not that he didn’t talk to other girls. He was twenty. Gorgeous. And Bailey wouldn’t grab him up.

“I’m not getting involved with anyone. I’m going to law school,” Bailey said, pulling a pair of blue jeans off the hanger and putting them on. It was the pair she’d said would go with the sweater because of the black stitching on the pockets. The pair that she always wore with the wedges I’d mentioned.

“But if I did want to date someone, it wouldn’t be a guy who’s an hour away and has girls falling all over him. Might as well put a Be Unfaithful to Me sticker on my forehead.”

She was dressing up for him, though. When Bailey grabbed the sweater out of my hand, I wisely kept my mouth shut.

* * *

June 2003

Bailey pasted on her best happy smile and started down the aisle, both hands clutching the plastic bouquet holder bearing red, white and yellow roses to match the gold gown she and Koralynn had chosen for the maid of honor. It was as close in style to Koralynn’s white gown as they could get and Bailey figured it was as close as she was ever going to get to a wedding gown of her own.

The roses’ scent wafted up, reminding her of the summer Koralynn and her parents, Mama Di and Papa Bill, had taken her with them on vacation to Hilton Head. The resort grounds had been full of roses.

Step. Pause. Step.

Debby Boone’s “You Light Up My Life” played through the sound system, resounding in the rose-decorated church as Bailey walked in slow, rehearsed steps toward the white-robed minister standing just in front of the altar. All eyes were on her. She could feel them.

Her cheeks hurt from the effort it was costing her to look so happy.

It wasn’t that she was unhappy. She was excited for Koralynn because Danny was crazy about her.

Step. Pause. Step.

He was standing up there to the left of the preacher, about as handsome as a guy could be with his muscled shoulders and football receiver long legs, wearing the black tuxedo she and Koralynn had picked out for him. His eyes turned her way as he gave her a distant—though she knew sincere—smile before his gaze moved past her. He looked like he was almost shaking with nervous anticipation as he waited for his bride to appear.

Bailey wasn’t sure why she and Danny had never been able to bond. Was it him? Her?

Lord knew she’d tried to be open with him. For Koralynn’s sake. Bailey would do anything for her best friend and she knew that her lack of closeness with Danny bothered Koralynn.

“And...fill...my...nights...with...”

Step. Pause. Step. She didn’t miss a beat. Koralynn and Danny had been sleeping together since the night of senior prom when Bailey, as class president, had crowned them king and queen. For a second, Bailey’s admittedly frozen heart warmed as she thought of her friend’s joy anytime Danny was around.

Step. Pause. Step.

Bailey’s gaze traveled from Danny to the man standing beside him, a couple of inches taller, a little lankier, but missing nothing in the looks department. Jake’s hair was a bit shorter, a bit more styled, than Danny’s. His eyes, though, were a lot more mysterious—probably hiding the jokes he was telling himself about everyone there.

Jake Murphy, Danny’s best friend.

He stared at her, his face expressionless.

They’d done it, too. Had sex. That same night. It hurt. He’d wanted to try again. She hadn’t. Until that damned Homecoming weekend her junior year at Wesley...

Step. Pause. St—

Passing the fourth pew on the bride’s side, Bailey saw her mother. Alone.

Stumble.

Her mother had married again after Stan. The guy from her firm, the one she’d had the affair with. But after the first year, he’d become a judge and she’d spent more time going it alone than with her husband. And the more she was alone, the more she drank.

It was always like that. Things started out great.

Step. Pause. Step.

Then after the wedding, that aura faded into familiarity. And bills. Responsibility and compromise. Wants denied. Arguments. Morning breath and flu. And then one day husband and wife couldn’t stand each other.

She reached the first pew. Mama Di’s smile was blissful—and she was looking right at Bailey. Her gaze told Bailey that Mama Di thought she was beautiful. Inside and out. It told her she was loved as only a mother could love a child.

Bailey smiled. She hated the trembling in her lower lip.

Step. Pause. Step.

And turn.

The “Wedding March” began.