by Addison Cole
“I can’t believe this,” Grace whispered as she pulled out her notebook. “I need to call Nana and the girls and text Reed and tell him it looks like I’ll be running later than I thought. This could take hours.”
“First, that was brilliant. Thank you,” Amber said. “And second, you’ve been gone a long time, but don’t you remember? This is what it’s always been like. When someone needs help, there are more people than you could ever dream of who are willing to pitch in. Remember when Mom had her hysterectomy and so many people brought dinners over that we had to give most of them away? And when the tree fell on the Jerichos’ barn, nearly the whole town turned out to help repair it?”
“It was the dead of winter. I remember,” Grace said. “I froze my butt off.”
“But you were there, Grace. Just like these people are here for you. That’s why I couldn’t ever figure out why you wanted to move away so badly.”
“I wanted more than this,” she said reflexively, but the words left her lips dulled and unenthusiastic.
“And you got it. The question is, is more always better? Because this…” Amber gazed out at the crowd, and her hand covered her heart as she said, “This is everything I could ever hope for in a community.”
Grace asked herself if she’d wanted more than this community, or more than what the area had to offer her in terms of a career. She was no longer able to decipher the answer.
REED CLIMBED FROM his truck Tuesday evening as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, and as he read his uncle’s message, he realized he hadn’t returned his earlier text in which Roy had also asked him to call. He rubbed an ache in his shoulder and gazed up at the house, missing Grace after only a few hours. He’d wanted to see if she had time for a quick dinner and had driven by the bookstore before coming home, but even from the road he’d seen a swarm of people inside.
He texted his uncle, Just got home. Will call after I shower. We’re confirmed for tomorrow at 7pm to get inside the theater. He wanted to show his relatives and Grace the interior of the theater. He grabbed his tools from his truck and noticed a beat-up old white car crawling past. The trunk was rusted, and one of the back windows was blocked with a piece of cardboard. The hair on the back of Reed’s neck stood on end, his built-in trouble radar. He set his tools down and strode toward the street. There was nothing beyond his house other than Sophie’s family’s properties, and he’d be darned if he let trouble find them.
The car pulled over and parked by the curb. Reed folded his arms over his chest, watching a disheveled-looking man climb from the car. He walked with a limp as he opened the trunk and withdrew a shoe box.
“Can I help you with something?” Reed asked.
The man closed the trunk and turned squinty eyes on Reed. He had thick brows, a slightly bulbous nose, and yellowish skin. His pants and shirt hung on him like a boy wearing his father’s clothes, only this wasn’t a boy. It was a weary, sad-looking man with hair the color of pennies and dimes and a beard that was white on the sides and brownish around the goatee area. He took a few uneven steps, and a smile lifted his thin lips, making his eyes look even smaller. A pang of pity rang through Reed.
“Reed,” he said with more than a hint of familiarity.
A spear of recognition shot through Reed as he studied the man’s aged face, trying to pull the image of his father from memories of their visit when Reed had been only four years old, but it was like tugging a fishing line that was hooked on the bottom of a lake, refusing to break free. Could he be wrong? He swallowed hard, breathing harder, and forced his voice from his lungs.
“Yes?”
The man’s gaze dropped, a pinched expression forming on his face as he limped closer. Reed unfolded his arms, feeling the man’s presence like an enemy approaching the gates. Gates that had been erected to protect Reed. Gates he had no interest in unlocking after more than twenty years of absence. A violent storm raged within him as the man stopped arm’s distance away, meeting—and holding—Reed’s steady gaze.
“It’s been a long time,” the man said.
His voice was a gravelly remnant of the cloudy memories Reed held. The man wiped his brow, and Reed’s gaze caught on the mangled skin on the back of his left hand and forearm, a map of angry scars. Reed’s stomach pitched at the hauntingly familiar sight of the burn. His phone rang, but he was laser focused on putting the fragmented pieces of his memories into place. They felt dark and ugly, causing ice to form around his heart.
“It’s me, Reed. Frank.” His pleading eyes begged for recognition. “Your father.”
Reed’s jaw clenched tight, his hands curled into fists. Anger roared up like a wild animal, and he was powerless to stop hurtful words from flying out through gritted teeth. “Roy Cross is my father.”
Frank looked at the box in his hands, and then his eyes shifted to the house. Reed didn’t want this man anywhere near his home or his life. He didn’t want to feel the pity and longing battling against his anger, his burning hatred, for the man who had given him away like an old dog. Reed stepped closer to the curb, drawing Frank’s attention away from the house.
“I came a long way,” Frank said. “I thought we could talk.”
“You came a long way?” Reed scoffed and crossed his arms again, steeling himself against the hurt child trying to claw his way up from the depths of despair. He lifted his chin toward Frank’s car and said, “I suggest you turn around and head back the way you came.”
A painful expression climbed across Frank’s face. “I deserve that.” He held the shoe box in a shaky hand toward Reed. “I thought you might want a few of your mother’s things.”
Reed stared at the box, wanting desperately to have a connection to the mother he’d never known but felt that accepting the box might somehow let Frank in. He kept his arms crossed and said nothing.
Frank set the box on the sidewalk, like an uncapped grenade that might blow if handled incorrectly, and said, “I’m staying at the Marriott Courtyard at the edge of town until Monday. Room 433, in case you change your mind.”
Reed stood stock-still, shoulders back, head held high as Frank limped to his car and drove away. Only after the sound of the car was long out of earshot did the air rush from Reed’s lungs, leaving him panting as his knees gave out, and he sank down to a squat, his mind too numb to think, his eyes locked on the box Frank left behind.
Chapter Nineteen
ON HER WAY home Tuesday night, Grace passed Roy’s truck as he drove away from the house. The house was dark, save for a light in the kitchen, where she found an old shoe box on the table. It was taped shut, and she wondered if Roy had brought something over. She set her messenger bag down.
“Reed?” she called out as she headed upstairs. Morgyn had finished the gifts she’d asked her to make, and she couldn’t wait to give Reed his.
As she walked through the master bedroom, she paused by the foot of the mattress, remembering the adoration in Reed’s eyes as they’d made love that morning. His sweet words—How will I make it through a single night without you in my arms?—had plagued her all day, making her warm with emotions and sad about their impending separation in equal measure. Once again, she braced herself for that reality, telling herself to treasure each day rather than ruing the end of them.
She headed out to the veranda, but there was no sign of Reed anywhere other than his truck in the driveway. Gazing out over the backyard, she caught his silhouette down by the creek. How romantic. She tugged off her high-heeled boots, skirt, and blouse, pulled on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, and put his gift in her pocket. She slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops, feeling light as air after the amazing day she’d had. Nana and the others had come in to help her organize groups of volunteers and create callback lists so they could coordinate auditions and teams to work on different aspects of the play. There was no way they’d be able to pull it off before she left, even with a big group of volunteers, but it was coming together, and that was thrilling.
She hurri
ed down the stairs and flew out the kitchen door and off the deck, humming the song “Stupid” by Levi Hummon. She wanted to be stupid with Reed and do crazy-in-love silly things together without thinking about the ramifications. She sang a few words as she neared Reed. He was gazing out at the water, his knees pulled up, the crook of his elbows hooked around his knees, hands clasped. She put a hand on his shoulder, feeling his muscles tense beneath her fingers.
“Hey, handsome,” she said softly, and pressed a kiss to his cheek as she sat beside him in the grass. “I brought you something.”
He turned, and her heart sank at the tortured look in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw. His gift forgotten, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, babe.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, one hand on the back of her head, keeping her close. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Sorry I was so late.” She wondered if that was the problem. It was nearly eight o’clock.
He pressed his lips to her cheek and said, “How did it go? I drove by, but there were so many people there, I didn’t come in.”
“It was amazing. We have volunteers for everything—set building, the cast, we even have the place worked out. The Jerichos were happy to let us use their barn, and there are a group of high schoolers who are apparently really great artists, who volunteered to put together posters and flyers. Morgyn came by, and she’s going to help with costumes, along with a group of Hellie’s friends and some high school girls. Lindsay came with Nana, and I swear those two are a powerhouse. You know how Nana loves to celebrate anything and everything. Lindsay is putting together a whole rebellious-Cinderella theme with decorations and food. It’s going to be amazing.”
One side of Reed’s lips tipped up, but it was a half-hearted smile. “Good, babe. I can’t wait to see it all come together.”
“Me too. Are you sure you’re okay? I’m sorry I was late, if that’s what’s bugging you.”
His hands slid to the nape of her neck, and he touched his forehead to hers. “No, babe,” he said softly. “I’m not sure I’m okay, and it has nothing to do with you or the time. I don’t mind that you worked late.”
“Then what is it? Did something happen? I saw Roy driving away. Are he and Ella okay?”
“They’re fine.” He pressed his lips to hers and sat back, gazing out at the water again. His hands curled into fists, and even in the moonlight she could see the muscles in his jaw bunching. “My…Frank showed up here earlier.”
“Frank…?”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, and the darkness of his stare brought understanding. Her mind reeled with a crazy mix of anxiety and hope. Reed had carried so much anger toward his father, it was no wonder he was acting strange.
“Frank, as in your father?”
He gave one curt nod.
“Here? At the house? Did you guys talk? How was it?”
“No, we didn’t talk,” he said sharply. “That man has no business anywhere near my life.” He pushed to his feet and paced. “Roy tried to warn me, but I was too tied up all day to call him back, and then Frank was here.”
She went to him, but he took a step back, holding up his hand to warn her off.
“I’m sorry, babe, but I’m too tightly wound. I don’t want to take it out on you.”
She’d never seen Reed like this, but she didn’t want to be shut out, and she really didn’t want him to think he was stuck dealing with this alone. She put her finger into his belt loop and pulled herself forward, until they were standing thigh to thigh. His lips curved up, though his eyes remained tortured, and he lifted his gaze toward the moon.
“Gracie, please don’t.”
“Don’t what? Love you?” she said. “Because for me to stay back while you’re hurting, or conflicted, or angry at your father, that’s what would have to happen.”
“I’m so angry,” he said through gritted teeth. “Too angry. I don’t want you to take the brunt of it.”
She wound her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling his heart beating fast and hard. “I know. You won’t let me. I’m not worried.”
“Who does he think he is, showing up like that?”
She knew he wasn’t looking for an answer.
“What right does he have to interrupt my life? What makes him think I’d want to see him?”
She eased her grip enough to look up at him. Worry lines deepened along his brows and beneath his eyes. His mouth twisted angrily. And yet somehow the weight of sadness overshadowed all that rage, making her ache even more for him.
“Did he say anything? Explain why he came after all these years? Did Roy offer any clarity?” she asked.
He shook his head and finally put his arms around her, letting out a long sigh before responding. “Roy said Frank had stopped by his place asking where he could find me. Roy asked the same questions you did, but I don’t have the answers. I sent Frank away. In my head, he’s like an infectious disease I don’t want to risk being around. I’m sure that makes no sense. There was a time I would have given anything to have a relationship with him. But that’s gone, Gracie. Maybe it makes me a terrible human being, but I don’t want it. Frank Gilbert does not exist to me. As far as I’m concerned, I’m Roy Cross’s son. I don’t want or need to hear excuses about why Frank’s been absent from my life for all this time. He abandoned me once, and it took forever for me to move past it. Heck, babe. I’m still not past it. He’s not a part of my life. He never was.”
She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to say, but none of them mattered, because she wasn’t Reed. She hadn’t been the child asking Santa for his father’s love or the preteen harboring resentment, curiosity, and hope, all of which went unanswered. And she wasn’t the boy who had to find his way to manhood with all the unanswered questions Reed carried on his shoulders. She was only the woman who had loved him long enough to try to keep those thoughts and questions to herself in an effort to help him heal.
Chapter Twenty
IN A SPAN of forty-eight hours a man could reunite and fall in love with his high school sweetheart, he could finish renovating a Victorian porch, and, Reed discovered, his house could become a home. What he didn’t expect was that just as quickly that home could become the place where his demons came back to haunt him. Reed stood in the kitchen, staring at the shoe box and wondering if it held the answers he’d always wanted or decades of hurt. Twice he’d driven by that freaking hotel at the edge of town where Frank was staying. And twice he’d cursed a blue streak and driven away.
He still wasn’t ready to play that game of Russian roulette.
“I’m ready,” Grace said as she rushed down the stairs. They were meeting Meggie, Roy, and Ella at the Majestic to take a tour of the inside. “Sorry we ran late with the auditions today. I can’t believe how many people want a part in this play. I changed as quickly as I could.”
He closed his eyes for a moment to regain control of his emotions and felt her arms circle his waist. Her cheek pressed warm and loving against his back, and he reached behind him, keeping her close. She’d been careful not to push him toward seeing Frank, but he knew in his heart she thought he should. He also knew she didn’t need any more angst in her life. She had enough on her plate with running around town to coordinate the play, dealing with the director about her next production, which seemed to take hours of emails, texts, and phone calls, and handling the idiot actor who was causing problems on her current production. Reed wanted to head to the city and shake the life out of him, tell him to grow up and do his job. It was probably a good thing Grace was more levelheaded, because his unresolved anger and hurt toward Frank made him less than rational. He tried to concentrate on Grace and happier things, like the fact that he finished the porch two days early, celebrating this coming Friday night with their families at the barbecue, and buying the Majestic. He needed the distraction of that project now more than ever, as Grace’s—and Frank’s—departure loomed.<
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Grace spread her hands over his stomach and said, “How about if we move the box out of sight until you’re ready to deal with it?”
He turned and embraced her, telling himself to man up and look in the darn thing already. She smiled up at him, and it sliced right through the heartache to his very soul. Grace was what mattered, not his past. He’d never be able to bring his mother back, and no matter what Frank had to say, it wouldn’t repair the damage he’d done. It was time to close that door for good, and putting the box away was a start.
He pressed his lips to hers and then said, “I’ll put it away after we get back. Everyone’s probably waiting for us.”
They arrived at the same time as Roy and Ella and greeted them outside the theater.
“Grace, we’re excited to see your family Friday night.” Ella embraced Grace. “It was awfully nice of your mother to invite us.”
“Everyone is looking forward to it. Amber is even planning to close her bookstore early so she can be there.” Grace looked lovingly at Reed and said, “Reed did such an amazing job on the porch, Mom and Dad want to break it in properly. I think the words my father used were ‘timeless perfection.’”
“This get-together is a long time coming,” Reed said.
As Grace and Ella talked about the barbecue, Roy ran an assessing eye over Reed and slung an arm over his shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
When Roy had shown up at their house minutes after Reed had sent Frank away, he’d listened to Reed complain for a long time. Roy had always been good at knowing when to listen and when to push. The thing was, the few words he’d said were still battering Reed’s head. That man’s your blood, and where you take it from here is your decision. But keep in mind, your mama loved him, and she was no pushover.
He stood up a little taller for the man who had raised him and said, “You know that feeling when you’re working on an old foundation and you pull out a brick only to find that what lay behind it was never solid?”