by Tari Faris
“Being away from the city helps. You should see the sky at Olivia’s house. It’s amazing.” She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Nice segment on Channel 21. I mean, I don’t know much about what you’re up to here in Heritage, but at least everyone knows you’re single.”
“Don’t remind me. That was about as embarrassing as it gets.” Austin covered his face with his arm. “With any luck it’ll be good publicity, and that’s what I need.”
She looked through the binoculars again.
“Please tell me you don’t own night-vision goggles.”
“No.” Libby handed them to him. “They’re just regular binoculars.”
“That’s a relief.” He pointed them at the night sky.
“Think I might be a stalker?” She pulled her black cap a little lower. “I could totally pull off being a spy.”
He passed her back the binoculars. “You’re too sweet to be a stalker or a spy.”
She glanced over, and by the expression on his face, he was processing his choice of words as well. She rolled to her side so she could see him better. “Are we friends?”
He turned his head toward her. A hint of silver lined his face from the moonlight. “Why do you ask?”
“There are times we act like friends. And times—”
“When I act like a jerk.” He looked back toward the sky.
“I wasn’t going to say those exact words.” She propped her head on her hand.
He rubbed his hands over his face. “I do want to be friends. I have issues with . . . my brother, and sometimes I let that anger get the best of me.”
“I sort of picked that up.” Libby picked at a seam in the quilt. “You’re still mad he went to the hospital with me?”
“No.” Austin sighed. “That was the right decision. And it was the right decision to meet with the concerned parents of the basketball team rather than be there helping us move our dad in. And it was right that he went on the 911 call the day he was supposed to meet me at our dad’s. But do you see a pattern here?”
“Family always gets pushed aside.”
“Exactly.”
“Is your dad angry at him too?”
Austin tapped the ground a few times with his fist. “Nope. Nate can’t do wrong in our dad’s eyes. Everyone likes Nate more than me. Even my dad.”
Nate may be easier to get along with than Austin, but Libby didn’t like him more. Not that she’d mention that. “I doubt that’s true.”
“Feels true.”
“But feeling true doesn’t make it true. My bio-mom told me once that making bad decisions was in my blood.” Libby rolled back to her stomach and plucked a few blades of grass at the top edge of the blanket. “She said that getting pregnant with me was her first bad decision, and choosing to have me was her second.”
“How old were you when you were adopted?” Austin rolled to his stomach as well, his shoulder touching hers.
“Two. But my bio-mom is my mom’s sister, so I still saw her on occasion until about fourteen. I think I was about seven when she told me that—it was just after Luke was kidnapped by his dad. She said that Luke had been kidnapped because I was destined to make bad decisions.”
“Wait, what? That’s a lot to take in. Your aunt adopted you and Luke—”
“No. My birth mom, Angel, abandoned me to her sister, Ann, when I was about a year old. Ann married a guy named Brian Taylor and they had Luke. They divorced and she married Len Kingsley, and they adopted me. Luke and I are cousins biologically but siblings through adoption.”
“His dad kidnapped him?”
“Oh, right, you weren’t here when all that went down last year. His dad disappeared with him when he was three, and we had no idea what happened to him until last year when he showed up on our doorstep.”
“How did he find you?”
“Some investigator realized his birth certificate was a fake and put the pieces together.” Libby plucked a few blades of grass and piled them on the quilt. “His dad had died in a car accident when Luke was five, and he grew up in the foster-care system under the name Luke Johnson.”
Austin rubbed his eyes as if trying to piece everything together. “So, why would your mom—I mean, the woman who gave birth to you—blame you?”
“I was with him when his dad picked him up.” Her voice cracked on the last word. She coughed to clear the growing lump. “I could have run and told our mom, but I didn’t. His dad told me it was a surprise and I believed him.”
“You have to know it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know. My parents—”
“Your adoptive parents?”
“Yes, my real parents. They’ve told me over and over that it wasn’t my fault. They also have told me how thankful they are for me. That my birth wasn’t a mistake.” Libby picked a few more pieces of grass and let them sift through her fingers. “I know what my bio-mom said wasn’t true, but there are times it feels true. But like I said, feeling true doesn’t make it true.”
“What do you do when it feels true?” Austin caught some of the grass she dropped, brushing her hand in the process.
Libby’s heart sped up with the contact. She picked up another piece of grass and held it out on the palm of her hand. “I do the only thing I can when faced with a lie. I hold on to the truth. I am not a mistake. I’m not bound to be like my mother.”
Austin wrapped his fingers around the grass and her hand at the same time. “What’s my truth?”
Libby willed her breath to an even rhythm. “Your truth is that Nate’s a good guy, but he’s not perfect, and . . . not everyone likes him more.” Her voice was rougher than before.
“They don’t?” His thumb moved back and forth on her palm.
She could barely think with him doing that. Austin had her so twisted around, she didn’t know what to think anymore, and she needed to keep her head about her until she did know. She pushed to a sitting position. “You know what this means?”
“What?” Austin pulled back his hand and propped himself up on his elbows.
“We both shared secrets. You know what that makes us?” When he didn’t answer, she nudged his side. “Friends.”
He let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, okay.”
“And you know what friends do?”
“What?”
“Give friends rides to Grand Haven in their truck so they can pick up an antique desk Friday.”
“You need to go to Grand Haven Friday?”
“I do. Thank you for offering.”
A distant squeak of the library door echoed through the night.
Libby whipped her head that direction. “They’re here.” She dropped back to her belly and snatched up the binoculars. “We missed them going in. Hopefully I’ll be able to see them under that streetlight when they come out.” She looked through the binoculars at the door, then dropped them. “It’s too far.” She jumped to her feet, dashed across the street, and ducked behind Otis’s side.
Austin landed next to her with a thud. “How are you going to see like this?”
She pointed two fingers from her eyes to the front end of Otis, then from his eyes to the back end.
“Sure, give me the butt.”
She stifled a giggle as she scowled and put her finger over her lips.
Creeping along on her belly, she peeked around Otis’s nose just as a figure exited the schoolhouse and secured the door. The night reader wore a red hoodie and big jeans but couldn’t be much over five feet. Maybe a junior higher? The hood fell back, and a long ponytail of dark brown hair fell out. This didn’t help. She didn’t know ninety percent of the people in town, and neither did Austin.
Libby stood up and sprinted forward before she could talk herself out of it. “Hi.”
The girl’s eyes widened as she tucked the book deeper in her bag.
Libby took a hesitant step toward her. “Did you get the next book?”
The girl ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken th
em.”
“Library books are made to be checked out. But why all the sneaking around?”
“I . . . It’s just . . . I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” She turned to go.
Libby took another step forward. “Wait. Let’s start over.” She extended her hand. “Libby Kingsley. Librarian.”
The girl’s brown eyes narrowed on Libby a moment, then a soft smile soothed the harsh features of her face. She gave Libby’s hand a solid shake. “Danielle Fair. Reader.”
Her face looked young, but her solid grip and the way she held herself didn’t say teenager.
“How about this, Danielle Fair, reader? I need some help with shelving books.” Libby pointed at the schoolhouse. “You help me and you’ll have all the access to the books you want and a place to read them. No questions asked. You can start tomorrow.”
Danielle pushed her ponytail back over her shoulder. “I work a morning shift tomorrow, but I can be there after lunch.”
“Sounds good.” That narrowed her age to at least post high school.
Danielle nodded and then disappeared down the darkened sidewalk.
Libby ran back to where she’d left Austin hiding behind Otis. “Nice that you had my back.”
“I thought one person chasing the poor girl in the dark was enough.” He stood and brushed off his pants.
“True. Just so you know, I don’t make a habit of chasing people in the dark.” She made her way back to the blanket and bent down to gather her stuff. “Friday?”
Austin folded the blanket and held it out. “Sure thing, friend.”
His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and fumbled it to the ground. Libby reached for it and handed it to him as the name Becky flashed across the screen. He declined the call and shoved it back in his pocket. When he looked at her, his smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore. “See you Friday.”
Interesting. Maybe Friday would open the door to the mysterious Becky. Even if not, she had a feeling it would be a day worth remembering.
Libby tucked the blanket under her arm. The baggie of change dropped from the folds to the ground. She bent over and picked it up. This was not over.
After this date she could wrap up her article and turn it in to Mr. Lang. Olivia eyed her watch, then checked her phone again. She’d driven an hour to the Woodland Mall in Grand Rapids to meet this guy—he’d better show. She’d picked a public place in the afternoon to make it as easy and as safe as possible. Though a blind internet date was anything but easy. And it wasn’t completely blind. She’d seen his photo. But other than three photos and the bio on his profile, she didn’t know anything about him.
“Olivia?” A guy slid into the seat across the café table. Chiseled jaw with a three-day scruff, messy blond hair, and intense green eyes. His online photo hadn’t done him justice. Maybe internet dating did have its merits. “You’re Olivia, right?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. And you’re Tanner?”
He gave her a once-over before pulling out his phone and glancing at it. His smile tightened as his head bobbed. “That’s me.”
Maybe he was nervous. “Is this your first internet date?”
“Yeah. I signed up last week.” He checked his phone again.
“What prompted you to sign up?” Did she sound too much like a questionnaire?
“I wanted to get back at my girlfriend—ex-girlfriend.” His gruff tone emphasized ex.
Vengeful rebound boy. Awesome. “Did you two date long?”
“Three years.” He scrolled through his phone and then tapped at the screen. “Want to go see a movie? There’s a theater in this mall.”
“That sounds . . . fun.” A movie wasn’t the best way to get to know someone, but it didn’t matter. Tanner seemed interested only in getting back at his ex, and she hadn’t come looking for a match made in heaven anyway. She just had to do the last bit of research for her story.
“How about The Evil Dead Rise Again?”
Then again, how long did she have to stay to consider it a date for the article? At least she’d had the good sense to drive herself. She reached for her cup of coffee. “I don’t do horror.”
“Really?” His voice dropped into an adolescent whine. “You’re different than your profile.”
“What?” Olivia coughed on the hot liquid. “I am not. Did you even read my profile?”
“No. But your picture was hot. Then you show up with a bun and glasses.” He shook his head and scanned his phone again.
Okay, maybe the bun was too far, but the glasses were necessary. She’d torn her last contact that morning and her next box wasn’t going to be delivered until Monday. She couldn’t drive without contacts or glasses. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He seemed to realize he’d been rude and tried to backpedal. “You’re not that bad.”
Ouch!
Maybe this was partly her fault. She hadn’t spent much time on his profile either. She just needed a date so she could get the article done and turned in on time.
“There’s a romantic comedy—will that do?” He rolled his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, revealing a tattoo on the underside of his arm.
Her heart pinched as her mind floated to Nate. Wait, she wasn’t going to think about him. Why couldn’t she get that guy out of her head?
Her distress must have shown on her face. Tanner picked his phone back up. “So, no romance.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds fine.” She offered him a smile and stood as she pulled her purse over her shoulder.
Ten minutes later, Olivia stood in silence as the long line inched its way toward the ticket counter.
A curse flew from Tanner’s mouth, and he ducked his head as they approached the window. He angled his face away from the line as he told the lady what movie he wanted and claimed his ticket.
“What are you doing, Tanner?” Olivia handed a twenty to the worker. “Same movie, please.”
“It’s my ex. The blonde in the back of the line with the big, uh . . . personality.”
“Well, you wanted to make her jealous.” Olivia shrugged as she took her ticket and change and headed toward the door.
“That’s when I thought you looked like—never mind. Let’s get our seats.” Tanner marched past her.
Seriously? She’d leave now if she hadn’t just shelled out cash for the ticket. At least she’d have a few interesting words for her article. She hurried to catch up with him as she tucked her change in her wallet.
Tanner yanked the door open. By the time she looked up, she couldn’t stop or even get her hands out of her purse. Smack!
Pain spread across her face as she bounced back and landed with a thud on the ground, her glasses falling into two pieces.
She tried to focus on Tanner through her now blurry vision. He stared down at her with an expression that better be repentant. Not that he appeared as anything more than a fuzzy ball. “Sorry.”
A warm sensation starting on her upper lip ran down her face as the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She looked down at her favorite white sweater as blood poured from her nose and she had nothing to stop it with.
A worker ran over with some paper towels. “Are you okay?”
Odd that the question came from a stranger rather than Tanner.
She held a towel to her nose, but the damage was done. “I’m fine.” It sounded more like “bine” with the paper towel over her mouth and what felt like the beginning of a fat lip. “Danks.”
“Are you sure?” The worker moved his head from side to side. Probably wishing he’d been on ticket duty today. “Maybe I should fill out an incident report.”
“No. I’m bine.” Olivia peered at Tanner through one lens of her glasses and closed the blurry eye. “I dink I just wan’ to go home.”
Tanner shifted his weight, crossing his arms. “But I just bought a ticket.”
He couldn’t be serious, but this wasn’t the best timing for a joke.
“I’ll tell you what. The movie is about to star
t. You get cleaned up and I’ll save you a seat.” He disappeared through the assailant door without even a glance back.
Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes, but crying would make her nose bleed harder. She felt her way over to a bench, then held up half her glasses so she could at least navigate her phone screen.
She tapped Gideon’s name. Voicemail. Libby was picking up furniture with Austin in Grand Haven today. Caroline—too far. Janie had the diner. Her parents would come, but they had enough on their plates with her younger siblings’ schedules. That left her with one option. She drew a slow breath and tapped the name.
He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Nate? I need help.” She tried to put strength in her voice, but just hearing his voice clogged her throat with unshed tears. “Can you come get be?”
“Yes.” The jingle of keys echoed through the phone. “Where are you?”
nine
He wished she’d just tell him if he needed to go back and pummel some guy’s face. Nate hadn’t been in a fistfight since he’d turned his life around, but he’d won the last one and the way he felt right now, he could do it again. Olivia had sounded so angry and muffled on the phone that he’d pushed the speed limit the whole way. Finding her covered in blood hadn’t been what he expected when he arrived.
Nate peered at her again out of the corner of his eye. All she’d said when he picked her up was, “I’m fine and don’t ask.” But with the bloodstains on her sweater and the way her lip was swelling, she certainly didn’t look fine.
“Would you quit staring at be?” Her voice dripped with exhaustion and frustration. She opened the glove box and pulled out a roll of masking tape.
“Are you going to tell me what happened, or am I going to take a guess? The guy didn’t—”
“Hit be? No.” She started taping her glasses together at the bridge. “Did he take be on a lousy date, sback by bace with a door, tell be I wasn’t bretty enup, and then go to the bovie without be? Yes, he did.”
Her mumbled words tumbled out, but he got the point. It had been a bad date. Wait, had she said not pretty enough? Was she serious?