Читать книгу Alaskan Homecoming - Teri Wilson - Страница 13
ОглавлениеWhoever invented circular revolving doors had obviously never been on crutches.
Posy felt like a newborn moose wobbling around on unfamiliar, gangly legs as she spun her way inside the Northern Lights Inn. Then, just as the instrument of torture spilled her out, the tip of her left crutch got stuck between one of the glass panels of the door and its frame. She jerked on the crutch as hard as she could, but it didn’t budge. The revolving door ceased revolving altogether, trapping two men wearing fur-trimmed parkas and unhappy scowls inside.
Pilots, in all likelihood. The Northern Lights Inn overlooked a lake that remained frozen for at least nine months out of the year and served as the local municipal airport. Snow planes took off and landed on skis, making regular runs into Anchorage for supplies, or out into the Bush—the parts of Alaska inaccessible by roads, which was the overwhelming majority of the state. At all hours of the day and night, the hotel’s coffee bar was a gathering place for local charter pilots, along with the severely under-caffeinated looking for relief.
Now that Posy got a better look at the two men she’d trapped in the revolving door, she suspected they fell into the latter category. They looked as though they could each use a cup of coffee. Or three.
Sorry she mouthed at them from the other side of the glass, yanking again on the crutch. All at once it came dislodged, and Posy nearly fell on her backside for the second time in less than an hour. So much for balletic grace and poise.
One of the two men helped her get resituated on her crutches before making a beeline for the coffee bar.
Posy paused for a second before heading that direction herself. She hated this. Absolutely hated not having perfect control over her movements. Ballet was all about control. When she lifted her leg in an attitude position, her knee raised at the exact same angle every time. That was what all those hours of barre work and practice were for—making sure every pointed toe, every classically arched arm and every graceful step were absolutely perfect. She felt out of sorts, as if she were walking around in a strange body.
She looked around the dark wood-paneled walls of the Northern Lights Inn and the sweeping views of the Chugach Mountain Range afforded by the coffee bar’s big picture window, expecting at least a tiny wave of nostalgia to wash over her. It didn’t. Being back in Alaska was even stranger than she’d expected. It no longer felt like home.
Strange body. Strange town.
Somewhere in her head she heard Liam’s voice again.
You’ve been gone a long time.
Her throat grew tight for some odd reason, and she suddenly felt like crying. Which was patently ridiculous. So she had a broken bone in her foot. It would heal. In a matter of six weeks it would heal, and she’d be back in San Francisco doing what she loved most: dancing. Her foot would repair itself, good as new. Just as it had before.
It had to.
Everything was going to be fine. She was rattled, that was all. It might be home, but Alaska was the polar opposite of San Francisco. A sea change. And she’d had her feet on the snowy ground for only two hours. Anyone would be disoriented. What she needed right now was coffee. And her girlfriends.
“Posy! You’re really here. I can’t believe it.” Zoey Wynne, her oldest childhood friend, hopped off one of the bar stools at the coffee bar and wrapped her in a tight embrace.
“I’m here, all right.” Posy kept a grip on her wayward crutches and let herself be hugged.
The moment Zoey let her go, Posy found herself in the arms of Anya Parker, another close friend from the days of skating at the pond and trekking through the woods on snowshoes after school. It was nice being hugged. Dancers hugged one another all the time on performance nights—good-luck hugs in the dressing rooms, congratulatory hugs in the wings. But it had been a while since she’d been embraced like this.
Like it mattered.
Posy’s soul breathed a relieved sigh. For the first time since she’d been back, Aurora, Alaska, actually felt like home.
“Come sit down.” Anya glanced briefly at the cast on Posy’s foot, but if she was shocked to see it, she didn’t let it show.
News traveled fast. For once, Posy was grateful for small-town gossip. She’d spent enough time dwelling on her injury without having to explain it again and again.
She slid onto one of the bar stools and ordered a cup of coffee. Black, with the smallest possible amount of sugar.
“Gosh, this is good.” She closed her eyes, savoring the first sip. “I’d forgotten how great the coffee is here.”
Anya snickered. “Don’t they have coffee in San Francisco?”
“Theater coffee.” Posy shook her head, thinking about the food truck perpetually parked at the curb by the back door of the theater where her company rehearsed six days a week. She shuddered to think about how many to-go cups of coffee she’d consumed from that truck over the course of the past six years. “Not the same thing at all.”
“It’s all part of our plan.” Zoey winked at Anya and then aimed her gaze back at Posy. “We’ve got you here, finally. Now we’re going to convince you to stay by pouring Alaska’s finest java down your throat.”
Posy gave her an uneasy smile. She had no intention of staying once her foot was healed. What in the world would she do in Aurora? Work for Liam the rest of her life?
Anya frowned. “What was that look for?”
“What look?” Posy shrugged and drained the remainder of her coffee.
“That look on your face just now. The one that indicated staying here would be a fate worse than death.” Zoey’s eyebrows lifted.
Half a dozen years had passed, and her friends could still read her like a book. “It’s not like that. I’m happy to be back. If I can’t dance, there’s no place I’d rather be.”
She wiggled her toes in her cast just the slightest bit. Pain shot from her foot all the way up her shin.
Please, God. Please let me be able to dance again.
“Then what’s wrong? Because you seem less than thrilled.” Anya covered Posy’s hand with her own. “Are you worried about your foot? It’s the same one, isn’t it?”
Yes, it was the same one. And yes, she was worried. But Posy didn’t think that was what Anya really wanted to know. “I’m taking care of it. I promise.”
“You’re not still dancing, are you?” Zoey asked.
“No.” She laughed and motioned toward the cast. “It’s a little difficult with this ball and chain.”
Unlike last time, there was no hiding the fact that she was injured. The cast guaranteed that much, as had her spectacular fall in the middle of Cinderella. She was walking around with her heart visible for the entire world to see.
The other time had been different. The break hadn’t occurred with the drama of a sickening crack, but over time. A stress fracture. At first, Posy had thought she’d just been overdoing it. It was audition season. High school graduation was right around the corner. She’d been traveling on weekends, trying out for spots in various dance companies up and down the West Coast. Of course, her dream was to dance in Seattle or even Anchorage. Somewhere close to home. Close to Liam.
She’d felt so torn between the two of them—Liam and ballet. She’d loved dance for as long as she could remember. Her parents told stories of how she’d bounced to the beat of push-button toys in the church nursery when she was only two years old.
Somewhere deep down she possessed an unquenchable need to move in the presence of music. She didn’t just hear music. She felt it, down to her core. And her ability to move to it, to dance, was God-given. She’d known that since before she could fully articulate it.
Then Liam had come along. And for the first time, she’d felt the same way about a person that she’d felt about ballet. It was bewildering. It was exhilarating. It was love. But they were young. And why should she have to choose? Being a dancer didn’t mean she couldn’t be in love.
After two weeks of icing her throbbing foot at night under the covers of her bed so her parents wouldn’t see, Posy had known something was seriously wrong. She couldn’t walk without limping. And when she danced, she had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from crying out in pain. She should have told someone then. She didn’t. She didn’t breathe a word about it to anyone, not even Liam.
She should have said something. She should have gone straight to the doctor instead of doing her best to wish it away as she danced on, from one audition to the next, for fear of missing out on her big chance at becoming a professional ballerina.
She should have done a lot of things differently.
“I’m not taking any pills, if that’s what you’re wondering. Not even Advil,” Posy said.
It was humiliating to have to give these kinds of assurances. Humiliating, but necessary. She might as well get used to it. Anya and Zoey had both been wondering. She could see it on their faces, just as she’d seen it in Liam’s eyes as they’d sat next to one another in the pastor’s office.
“Good.” Anya gave her hand a squeeze before letting go.
“Seriously. It’s not the foot that’s bothering me so much as something else.” Or someone else.
Zoey frowned. “What’s wrong, then?”
Posy looked up, and her gazed fixed on the stuffed grizzly bear that stood in the corner behind the coffee bar. Like she needed an enormous furry reminder of the stellar afternoon she’d had. “Liam Blake. That’s what’s wrong. Liam and his gigantic dog.”
Anya’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve already seen Liam?”
“Not only have I seen him, but I’m apparently working for him. He’s my boss.” Posy stared into her empty coffee cup, willing it to refill itself. She was going to need more caffeine to process the specifics of her new life, however temporary. Massive amounts of caffeine.
Anya asked the barista for refills all around.
Zoey shook her head. “Wait. Are you working at the church now, or...?”
“The church, yes.” Posy sighed. It was difficult to fathom that only two hours ago, she’d been so excited about the prospect of teaching ballet that she’d headed straight to the church once her plane had landed. The fact that the route from the airport to church allowed her to avoid Aurora’s town square and the big evergreen tree that stood at its center was merely convenient. “I’m teaching ballet in the after-school program.”
Anya choked on her coffee. “Ballet? At the church? Does Liam know?”
Posy nodded. “He does now. And needless to say, he’s less than thrilled.”
Even after she’d gotten over the initial shock of realizing that Liam was the youth pastor, she’d thought that maybe, just maybe, his feelings about ballet had changed. A lot of time had passed. She’d hoped it would have been enough time for him to realize it wasn’t ballet that had hurt her. Dancing might have been the cause of her stress fracture, but dancing hadn’t made her hide her injury. Ballet hadn’t shoved those pills down her throat. She’d done those things herself.
She’d been afraid. Afraid of losing her chance at becoming a ballerina. Afraid to find out just what was wrong with her body. God had created her to be a ballet dancer. If she could no longer dance, she no longer knew who she was.
And that had been the irony of the whole ordeal, hadn’t it? She’d never questioned the fact that God had given her the ability to dance, but once the pain came, she’d lost her faith. It had left her so swiftly, she’d never realized it was gone.
The mess had been one of her own making.
“I didn’t even know Liam worked there.” Posy added another dash of sugar to her fresh cup of coffee. “How long has he been the youth pastor, anyway?”
Anya and Zoey grew very quiet. Finally, Anya answered the question.
“A long time. Four years,” she said.
Four years? Liam had been a pastor for four years, and she hadn’t heard a thing about it? How was that possible? “You’re kidding.”
Anya shook her head. “No, I’m not kidding. I’m dead serious. Lou McNeil came to Aurora from Anchorage to take over as the head pastor, and he hired Liam straightaway. It seems Pastor McNeil knows Liam’s dad.”
“So Liam’s dad is still preaching?” Posy asked.
“Yes, although I have no idea where.” Anya reached for the half-and-half and added a dollop to her coffee. “No one can keep up with Liam’s parents. Once they sold their house here, they stopped coming back to Aurora altogether. Not that they ever spent much time here to begin with.”
So the house had sold.
Posy’s last memory of Liam’s childhood home had been the day his dad had driven the post of the for-sale sign into the nearly frozen yard. A stake through Liam’s heart.
“You mean your mom never told you that Liam is a pastor now?” Zoey asked.
“No. She didn’t.” Posy set down her coffee cup. Suddenly, she was no longer thirsty.
Surely her mom didn’t want her to work at the church so Liam could keep an eye on her. That couldn’t be possible. Her parents couldn’t actually expect her old boyfriend to make sure she handled her injury better than she had last time. Because that would be mortifying beyond words. And wrong. Just plain wrong.
“You know, all of this awkwardness could have been avoided if you’d come back to visit. Even once,” Zoey said, her tone not at all judgmental, but wistful.
Anya nodded, her gaze flitting ever so briefly to the sparkling diamond on her ring finger. She was married now. As was Zoey. And Posy hadn’t even met their husbands.
“You know I have my pilot’s license now, right? And my own plane?” Zoey’s face lit up the way Posy’s always did when she slipped on a pristine pair of pointe shoes.
“Now, that I did know.” Her mother had filled her in on that much. Funny how she’d remembered to mention Zoey’s plane, but not the fact that Posy would be working with Liam. She and her mom were going to have a chat about that. Soon. Very soon. “Actually, I wanted to ask you if you could fly me to Anchorage a few times a week for my physical-therapy appointments for my foot.”
Zoey grinned. “Of course. I’d love that. We can fly over the ranch, and you can see the reindeer. They look so pretty from the sky.”
Posy had almost forgotten. Zoey and her husband lived on a reindeer farm.
She’d missed so much.
Liam was a man of God now, Zoey was both a pilot and a reindeer farmer, and Posy wasn’t the only one with a different name. Anya and Zoey both had new last names. Her mother had told her all about their weddings, of course, but seeing the shiny rings on their fingers made it seem much more real than it had from far away.
They were her closest friends. Granted, she hadn’t seen them in a while, and she definitely could have been better about keeping in touch. But they still knew more about her than any of her San Francisco friends. They cared. They genuinely cared. And they were married to men Posy had never laid eyes on. Perfect strangers.
“Don’t worry.” Anya gave her a friendly nudge. “We’ll get you all caught up on everything you’ve missed. Before long, you’ll know more than you ever wanted to know about the fair citizens of Aurora. Right, Zoey?”
“Oh, sure. Where to start... Let’s see. Did you know that Anya’s husband sometimes dresses up as a bear?”
Just what Posy needed. Another bear scare. “What?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “It’s not as silly as it sounds. Trust me.”
The two of them launched into a laughter-filled discussion about everyone in Aurora—people Posy knew and others she’d never heard of before. She managed to keep up with the conversation, making mental notes every now and then of new names. There were new babies, new marriages, new stores, new streets. Even new dogs, Liam’s shaggy beast included.
But as Posy sat with her two oldest friends, drinking coffee and chatting like old times, she was beginning to get the feeling that the only stranger in town was one named Josephine.
* * *
“Stay here.” Liam aimed a stern look toward the passenger sitting beside him in the front seat of his Jeep. “And try to resist the urge to eat anything. The headrest, for instance.”
Oblivious, Sundog panted, his tongue hanging sideways out of his mouth.
Liam issued one final warning before exiting the vehicle. “I’m being serious. Stay. Behave. Or whatever the proper command is for this situation.”
He was probably going to have to do something about the plundering problem. And the chewing. Posy hadn’t been altogether wrong when she’d called the dog unruly. But Liam liked to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was a rescue. He’d lived on the streets. It was only normal for him to worry about where the next meal was coming from. Liam just wished it wasn’t the stuffing of the Jeep’s passenger seat, as it had been last time. Or the center of the bedroom mattress back at his house.
Yep. He probably needed to take a training class or something, but with the sudden reappearance of Posy, Sundog had shifted to a lower position on the priority list. Oh, how he longed for the time when chewed-up pillows were his biggest problem.
Was it only this morning that she’d shown up at the church?
He felt as though he’d lived a lifetime since then, and it wasn’t even dark outside yet.
He glanced at his watch. Half an hour until school got out. He needed to make this quick so he could get back to the church in time. He never left the premises this late in the day, but he’d heard Posy telling Lou that she was getting together with Anya and Zoey at the Northern Lights Inn this afternoon. Now might be his only chance. He would already be working with her day in and day out. He definitely didn’t want her finding him standing in the living room of her childhood home.
He rang the doorbell and waited, shooting a final glance at Sundog, who already appeared to be gnawing on the dashboard.
The door swung open, and Posy’s mother stood on the other side of the threshold. Just like old times. Really old times. “Liam. What a surprise.”
“Mrs. Sutton.” He nodded. “May I come in?”
“Of course, of course. Please do.” She held the door open wide, and Liam stepped into the past.
Everything was the same, at least everything within Liam’s field of vision. Same gold-framed mirror hanging in the entryway—the one where Posy had always checked her reflection right before she breezed out the door for school, ballet class or a day at the pond. Same brown leather sofa where he’d sat on more than one occasion with a boxed corsage in his hands, waiting for her to come downstairs so he could take her to the school dance. He resisted the urge to look at those stairs now, half-afraid that same tingle-tangle of anticipation would stir in his gut. As though she were about to descend that staircase wearing a pretty tulle dress and a smile just for him.
He cleared his throat and tried to shake the memories, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted the new big-screen television hanging above the fireplace mantel, a shiny, hi-def reminder that he hadn’t, in fact, stepped inside a time warp.
“Can I get you anything, Liam?” Mrs. Sutton gestured toward the kitchen, where Liam knew a pitcher of Alaskan blackberry tea rested on the top shelf of the refrigerator and a ceramic cookie jar shaped like a black bear cub sat atop the butcher-block counter.
This was just a little too surreal for his taste. Better to get in and out. Besides, the kids would be arriving at the church soon. “No, thank you.”
“Have a seat, then. Make yourself at home.” She gestured toward the sofa.
Make yourself at home.
Liam purposefully sank into one of the upholstered armchairs with his back to the staircase. “I’m sorry to drop by unannounced like this.”
“It’s no trouble at all, Liam. You’re always welcome here.” She offered him a motherly smile.
Mrs. Sutton had always been fond of him, even before that night he’d shown up at this very house, rain-soaked, heart torn in two as he spilled each and every one of Posy’s secrets. Afterward, Posy’s parents had put him on a virtual pedestal. So high up he was out of Posy’s reach.
He swallowed. He didn’t like to think about that night. And he hadn’t. For the better part of six and a half years, he’d managed to successfully put it out of his head. But along with Posy, all those memories had come rushing back this afternoon.
“How are your parents, Liam?”
“Great, I suppose.” He hadn’t actually spoken to them in weeks. A month maybe. But their latest postcard had arrived the other day. From Kivalina, 125 miles north of the Arctic Circle, which made it one of Alaska’s most remote villages.
“Do they have any plans to visit soon?” Mrs. Sutton smiled warmly. She’d never really understood his parents.
Liam wasn’t altogether sure he understood them himself. As overinvolved as the Suttons could be in their daughter’s life, his parents swung in the opposite direction. They were more interested in seeing every square inch of frozen tundra this side of the North Pole than they were in the particulars of Liam’s life. They didn’t know about the dog. Or the new lights he’d strung across the skating pond. Or that he’d stopped dating Sara, and that breakup had occurred over four months ago. Not that he thought of it as an actual breakup. They’d gone out once or twice a week for a few months, but that special spark had never been there. It had been casual. All of Liam’s relationships had been casual since Posy.
He cleared his throat. “My folks don’t have any plans to visit, so far as I know. Getting planes in and out of the Arctic Circle can be complicated.”
“I’m sure it is. Give them our regards the next time you talk to them, okay?”
Liam nodded, not wanting to make any outright promises. Conversations full of static from his dad’s satellite phone didn’t leave much room for small talk. Besides, he wasn’t here to talk about his parents.
“Posy’s back,” he said, his voice sounding altogether too raw and vulnerable for his liking.
“Yes, she is.” Mrs. Sutton nodded. “We haven’t seen her yet, but she should be home in time for dinner.”
“She’s staying here?” he asked. A dumb question. Where else would she be staying? Why was his brain suddenly on vacation?
“Yes.”
“Good.” His smile felt strained. He was just going to have to bite the bullet and say what he’d come here to say before he ran out of time. Or lost his nerve. “Look, I know you told her about the job at the church.”
Mrs. Sutton’s gaze suddenly shifted to the floor.
“I also know that you didn’t tell her I worked there,” he said quietly.
“I wasn’t sure she’d take the job if she knew, and it’s the perfect place for her to be while she gets better.”
They were getting to the crux of the matter. Finally. “Why is that?”
Nervous laughter spilled from Mrs. Sutton’s mouth. “Working at the church will be good for her. She’ll be surrounded by the love of God and the girls...”
Liam leveled his gaze at her. “And me.”
Her only response was a quiet sigh, followed by uncomfortable silence.
“I can’t do it, Mrs. Sutton. I just can’t.” His throat burned all of a sudden. Seared with memories of words that he would not, could not, utter again. “I can’t be the one to keep an eye on her. That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s why you sent her to the church, and that’s why you didn’t tell her I’d be there.”
He waited for her to admit it, not that he really needed confirmation of his suspicions. Everything about Posy’s return was a little too coincidental to be believable.
“You’re right.” Posy’s mother gave a slow, reluctant nod. “I’m sorry. I should have spoken to you about it first. I’m worried about her, Liam. So is her father. Did she tell you about her injury?”
Guilt hovered around the edges of Liam’s consciousness. Posy hadn’t told him a thing because he hadn’t asked. “No.”
“It’s a fracture.” Mrs. Sutton gulped. Her eyes grew shiny with the threat of unshed tears. “Her fifth metatarsal.”
Fifth metatarsal.
Despite the fact that Posy’s health was no longer any of his concern, Liam felt those two words like a blow to his chest. In medical circles, a fracture of the fifth metatarsal was sometimes called the Dancer’s Fracture. Liam didn’t run in medical circles, but he knew plenty about such an injury.
“So it’s the same injury as last time,” he said.
“Worse, I’m afraid. She broke it all at once, in the middle of a performance.”
Morbid images of Posy falling to the ground in an agonizing twisted cloud of tulle and sequins flooded Liam’s imagination. He squeezed his eyes closed until they faded. “She told Pastor McNeil her foot would heal in six weeks, then she was returning to the ballet company.”
“That’s what she says. She’s up for a promotion, and if she can’t dance in six weeks she’ll lose her chance.” Mrs. Sutton had begun wringing her hands.
Liam’s headache made a swift return. So Posy’s body had a deadline hanging over it? Six weeks to heal or else? Perfect. Just perfect.
He dropped his head in his hands.
Why, God? I don’t want this. I don’t.
Posy’s mom spoke again, dragging him back to the present. “I’m not asking you to save her from herself. I know that would be expecting too much, especially after all this time. But you’ve always known Posy better than anyone else does. You see her. She can’t hide from you like she can from the rest of us. She never could. Can’t you just watch her? Simply be there and let us know if something seems wrong?”
She made it sound so easy, so simple. No more complicated than making sure a child stayed out of harm’s way. Don’t play in the street. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t run with scissors.
But Posy wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman. A grown woman with a new name and a new life. A new life that didn’t include Liam. How could he sit here across from Posy’s mother and tell her that what she was asking was impossible? Even if he wanted to take on such a role—which he most definitely did not—it would have been utterly impossible.
He might have known her once upon a time. But things were different. She wasn’t his girl anymore. He wasn’t sure she ever had been.
