Hometown Hero

by Anders, Robyn

  If the experience hadn’t hurt so much, the past few days would have been a big positive. She and Heather had been friends before, sort of. But she’d never been in Heather’s inner circle. She’d certainly never been a woman Heather would have confided in or plotted with on anything silly like the puppynapping they were planning. Their time together the previous night had changed their relationship.

  The damage she’d felt ripping through her guts when she saw Russ dancing with Heather hadn’t faded, though. She’d never had a chance with Russ, of course. Even when they’d kissed, she’d known that, known it was a temporary thing. But that didn’t make the pain any less.

  “I’ve got to get to work,” she repeated.

  * * *

  She switched shirts but left on her olive-colored pants.

  Andrew gave her a strange look when she came in. “Where have you been?”

  He looked terrible.

  “Never mind me. What happened to you?”

  “Do you mean the dark circles under my eyes, the bruise on my forehead where I fell down in the dark, or the gash in my arm when I didn’t see the barbed wire fence?”

  “All of the above.”

  “After you and Heather left last night, Russell Lyons and I had to walk home. It wasn’t pretty.”

  Cynthia couldn’t help it. She had to giggle at the mental picture. “Poor babies.”

  “So I had an excuse not to be here first thing. What was yours?”

  “Got drunk with Heather.”

  He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You? I’ve never seen you drink more than one glass of wine before.”

  “Yeah.” She rubbed her temples. “And you’re not going to again, either. I feel like the devil.”

  “Speaking of the devil, we got a call from your friend Russell. He wants to run an ad. Turns out, he found a puppy outside his building this morning.”

  “Better have PETA make sure he doesn’t mistreat the poor thing.”

  Andrew sighed. “Okay, Cynthia. I think I deserve to know what’s going on. Russell is one of the biggest businessmen in town. If you’ve pissed him off, he isn’t going to support the paper and we’re all going to be out our jobs.”

  She contemplated a couple of lies, but went with the truth. “If he’d been the same as he was before he went away, it never would have happened. As it was, I sort of, well, fell for him.”

  “All the women in Shermann have fallen for Russell. I know you had a crush on him way back when, but be careful. He and Heather always make up.”

  “I know that. But it’s different.”

  Andrew nodded, then put his computer into standby mode. “You know what? I sort of like the person he’s turned into, too. Last night, we got talking and we connected. Before, the war, he never had much time to listen talk that wasn’t about him.”

  “Why am I sure there’s a huge ‘but’ coming?”

  “Because we’ve been friends for a long time, maybe. Or maybe because you’re an intelligent woman. Here’s the thing. What happens when he gets his memory back? You said in your article that the doctors say that’s likely.”

  “He’ll go back to Heather.”

  “He’ll want to go back to Heather, but you might have spoiled that. You’ve got to be careful, kid. You’ve got more than just your own heart at risk here.”

  Chapter 7

  Gomer was a bit young to go for long walks, so Russ hooked up a sort of baby-carrier pouch and set off in search of Heather. It was funny. For the three weeks since he’d returned from Germany, she had been by his side continually, yet when he really wanted to talk to her, she was nowhere to be found.

  Finally, he camped out outside her office at Cochran’s Department Store and waited.

  She arrived a bit after lunchtime, looking beautiful as always.

  “Hi Russell. Or is it Russ?”

  “Russ will do. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “You’ve been sitting here for two hours because you wanted me to drop a syllable from your name?”

  “Very funny. Can I come in?” He didn’t want to have this discussion standing in her lobby while her executive assistant and a couple of store assistant managers watched.

  Heather considered, then nodded. “I guess. Is that dog going to be okay?”

  “Gomer and I went for a walk a few minutes ago. I think he can hold it.”

  “Gomer?”

  “I found him outside my door this morning. He didn’t have a collar so I’ve given him a temporary name.”

  “Sort of like taking a temporary name for yourself?”

  She’d hit the nail on the head. “Maybe we could talk about that inside.”

  He followed her in and closed the door.

  She settled down behind her desk and gestured to a chair. “Okay, uh, Russ. Hit me with your best shot.”

  He ignored the chair and took a deep breath. “Right. Losing my memory has changed a lot of things about me.”

  “I’m pretty busy, Russ. Can you get to the point?”

  “Okay. I think we should call off our engagement.”

  She had to know that was coming, but she blinked. Hard. A couple of times.

  “It’s not that I don’t like you or find you attractive. I just don’t have rest of my life feelings about you.”

  “And you do about Cynthia.”

  “This isn’t about Cynthia, Heather. It’s about the two of us.”

  “The doctors say you’ll gradually recover your memory, Russ. You’re making a decision here that is going to affect the real Russell Lyons forever, and you’re doing it based on a person that isn’t even going to be there.”

  He nodded. That was a good part of the reason he had been putting it off, of why he had been searching so desperately for those memories, for anything that could bring him closer to the person he was meant to be, had always been.

  “I’ve been battling this ever since I woke up in Germany,” he said. “Frankly, I’d be mad if I were you. But it wouldn’t be fair to either of us if we pretended that nothing had happened.”

  Heather got up, walked around her desk, and closed the distance between them.

  She reached a tentative hand and ran it down his cheek. “Maybe you’ve been looking for your memories in the wrong place. Maybe if you just gave us a chance, you would find that your earlier self had the right idea. We’re a good match. Our brains work the same—practical and businesslike. We’d make beautiful babies. The two of us, along with very few others, are making a difference in this town.”

  She was right. As an investor, Russ had built his life on logic. Even now, missing every memory of the world before he’d awakened in that German hospital, he still lived his life that way. So why couldn’t he just accept her reasoning, take the gift of her body and mind that she offered, and get on with the life that his call-up to military service had interrupted?

  “I can’t listen to logic on this, Heather. I have to go with my gut. And my gut is telling me that being engaged to you is living a lie.”

  She nodded slowly, her jaw set. Then, with bravery that surprised Russ, she forced a smile. “No hard feelings, Russ. Maybe in a few months, we can be friends again.”

  “I hope so, Heather. And I’m truly sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too, Russell. Uh, Russ. But right now, you’d better get the hell out of here before I call security and have them throw you out on your ass.”

  He wasn’t sure she would do it, but he didn’t put it past her, and certainly couldn’t blame her.

  “Right.” What do you say after you’ve broken up with your fiancée? See you around? That sounded too casual. Good-bye? Too final. Nothing at all? Too rude.

  “Take care of yourself, Heather.”

  “The timer is ticking fast. Get.”

  He got.

  * * *

  Cynthia bent over her computer, using her mouse to shift a story just a little to make room for a late ad from Charlie’s auto dealership.

 
; Her phone had rung four times in the past two hours, but she didn’t want to talk to Russ. What could they possibly have to talk about? She’d already done too much to hurt Heather, and had let Russ trample over her heart more than she’d ever guessed would be possible.

  “Somebody here to see you,” Andrew called from the front office side of the Advertiser-Dispatch building.

  “If it I didn’t win the Publisher’s Clearinghouse, I’m not interested.” She was finished with the layout, but she planned on hiding at the back of the office for the next year or so, until her heart had a chance to mend.

  “You might be making a mistake,” Andrew shouted.

  “I already made my mistakes. Now I’m just correcting them.”

  Footsteps sounded behind her.

  “I mean it, Andrew. I’m busy and I don’t want to see anyone.”

  “Funny. Andrew told me you were finished. And that you haven’t left the office all day.”

  She’d been expecting Andrew’s gentle voice. Russ’s dark baritone rumbled through the newspaper’s confined pasteup room.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We came to see you.”

  We! He’d come with Heather. Come to gloat. She knew she should force a smile at the fact that reality had finally triumphed over hope, and that the prince and princess of Shermann were finally back together, but her face ignored her brain’s clear instructions. She had a major scowl when she whirled around.

  He was alone.

  “What’s this we?”

  “My friend Gomer is chatting with Andrew.”

  Gomer? “Listen, Russell. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I don’t want to be any part of it. You hurt Heather last night, and it isn’t right. So, drop the Gomer gag, get out of my life, and stay out.”

  “I asked you to call me Russ. And I’ve already apologized to Heather.”

  “Good. Well, if you came to apologize to me as well, I accept. Now get lost.”

  “Funny. That’s what she said to me, too. I apologized when I told her I had to break our engagement. Without the memories that held us together, she was just a pretty stranger to me. I couldn’t hold her to the promise she’d made to that other person.”

  “You did what? Oh, Russ, how could you be so mean? Heather loves you.”

  His jaws clenched. “I know that, Cynthia. I told myself not to do anything stupid before my memory returned, to just let things play themselves out. But when I met you, when we kissed, things changed. I wasn’t being fair to Heather, I wasn’t giving myself a chance, and I definitely wasn’t being fair to you when I strung her along.”

  Excitement, fear, and anger battled for primacy in Cynthia’s mind. How dare he abandon the woman he’d dated so long? Yet he’d done it for her.

  But once the women of Shermann learned that she’d been the woman to break up the town’s storybook romance, what would happen to her?

  “What are you going to do if your memory comes back?”

  Russ just shrugged. “I’m sick of keeping my life on hold waiting for someone else to come back and take over my body. If he does, I’m going to fight him for it. At least I will if I have any reason to.”

  She feared she knew where he was heading, so she wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t demand that Russ say it out loud.

  Her mouth opened despite her decision. “What sort of reason?”

  “It’s still light out and for a change, it’s actually warm. Let’s take Gomer and I’ll buy you an ice cream cone.”

  She shook her head firmly. The town would see her having ice cream with Russ as a date, as a betrayal of Heather. And if she did go out with Russ, she certainly wouldn’t want this Gomer character--whoever he was--tagging along like a fifth wheel. Unless that was Russ's plan, to bring a buddy along so it wouldn't be like a date.

  “Okay,” her mouth answered for her.

  For the first time since he’d come into the production room, Russ’s frown brightened into a smile. “Good. I have a craving for Oreo cookie-dough.”

  “But you only eat Rocky Road.”

  “That was the other guy, Russell. He’s not around any more.”

  * * *

  Gomer took to Cynthia as if they were old friends.

  She seemed a bit flustered when he’d introduced her to the Labrador, but she quickly got over it and even insisted on carrying the little fellow when Gomer got a bit tired from walking on the leash Russ had bought him.

  Phil Langton, a bald man who looked like he ate more ice cream than he sold, seemed surprised when the three of them arrived at his shop, but he was shocked when Russ didn’t order Rocky Road.

  “You’ve been eating Rocky Road since you was six,” Phil told him. “What happened?”

  “You know, I just can’t remember,” he replied, maybe a bit too honestly.

  “Well, if you change your mind or want something else, be sure to let me know.” Phil went to work pouring cream, sugar, and flavorings into a machine that looked like something out of a science fiction film.

  “So, here we are.” Cynthia kept her voice low enough that it wouldn’t penetrate over the roar the ice cream machine made. “Do you have plans for what happens next?”

  Plans would be pushing it. He did have hopes. Hopes that he could continue where their kiss had left off.

  “Maybe I should have asked before I forced ice cream down your throat, but I’d love to take you out to dinner tonight.”

  “Like a date.” Her voice squeaked a bit, as if she couldn’t believe what he had said. It was a sexy squeak, though, and he liked it, liked the fact that he had an effect on her just as she did on him.

  “Very much like a date.”

  “But Heather—“

  “Heather and I are history.”

  “You know that, but no one else in Shermann does. And if they see the two of us out together, they’ll come down on me like a ton of bricks.”

  Russ took one of the little plastic spoons and scooped up a dab of ice cream for Gomer. He’d been caught up in himself, in trying to decide what he had to do, what he could ethically do when he just might be borrowing some other guy’s body. And he’d given a lot of thought to how Cynthia had reacted to him, the way her body had responded to his touch as if the two of them had a unique magic together that he could never replicate with any other woman, no matter how long he searched. But he’d been selfish. He hadn’t thought that Cynthia might have concerns that went beyond the undoubted physical attraction that drew them together.

  “Being seen with me before word gets out about Heather and me breaking up would hurt your reputation?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Then maybe we should be a little circumspect. How about eating at my place. Say around seven.” He paused a beat. “It’ll just be the three of us, and Gomer isn’t the kind who’ll talk.”

  She giggled, but she still looked doubtful. “Let me make a call. I’ll be right back.”

  “Got some breaking news from the paper?” Phil turned off his machine and wandered over to the table where Russ and Gomer waited Cynthia’s return. “That reporter seems to know everything going on in this town. Sometimes even before those of us directly involved.”

  “I’m glad you asked,” Russ said. “I just placed an ad in the paper, but I was wondering if you’d seen this dog before?” He held up Gomer by the puppy’s warm and comfortably swollen stomach. “I found him on my doorstep this morning. Any kids stop by saying they’d lost their dog?”

  “Can’t say I’ve heard anything like that.”

  “Well, ask around, will you?”

  “The little fellow sure looks like he’s taken a liking to you, Mr. Lyons.”

  “Russ.” He didn’t feel comfortable having a man his father’s age calling him mister.

  “You always seemed to like it when I called you Mr. Lyons before.”

  “I guess my time in the military made me less caught up in that type of formality,” Russ admitted.

  “Co
uld be. When I was in the service, they were real big on ‘Sir,’ and ‘Mister.’ ‘Course I was regular army and Viet Nam was going on.”

  “I guess that was a really ugly war.”

  “Hell, Mr. Lyons, uh, I mean, Russ. All wars is ugly. Anyone who tells you different is either lying or he’s never seen one. Likely both.”

  “I can’t argue with you, Phil.”

  “You know what else you can’t argue with? You go stepping out with another woman and Miss Heather is going to hear about it. Now, she’s an understanding kind of woman. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to like what she understands.”

  Now why had he wanted to come back and be the golden boy again? Everyone in the town seemed to feel like they had a say in how he lived his life. Maybe that was why he and Heather had gotten together in the first place—because everyone expected it and no one could complain about it. They’d lived up to expectations and never even considered doing anything else.

  As long as Russ was in charge, that stopped now.

  “I appreciate the warning, Phil. The only thing is, Heather and I have broken our engagement.”

  The ice cream vendor was still standing there with his mouth open when Cynthia came back from the rest room and nodded her head. “See you at seven, then.”

  “Right.”

  * * *

  Cynthia stared at her closet in quiet disbelief.

  How could a woman of twenty-seven have possibly accumulated such a collection of unfashionable, unflattering, and downright ugly clothing? She had absolutely nothing to wear and she was due at Russ’s in two hours.

  Her desperation was so complete, she even considered calling Heather and asking for help. Fortunately, some residual survival instinct kicked in. Russ might have broken up with Heather, and Heather might have assured her over the phone that she had no problem with Cynthia having dinner with him, but asking for fashion advice was too much like throwing gasoline on a bed of smoldering coals.

  In a fit of true desperation, she called Millicent Wanks.

  “She ain’t here. Ain’t coming back, neither.”

  “Oh. Hi, Kenton. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

  “Don’t know and don’t care.”

  Scratch that idea. Millicent had insisted that she was finished with her husband, but Cynthia had assumed that she had kicked him out, not that she’d left him with the house she’d inherited from her grandmother.