“Nope. I’m good.”
She reached over and flipped her light out, plunging the room into darkness.
When she’d first realized that they’d need to share a room, she’d been more nervous about that than she had been about her audition. Although, when she’d walked in the room, she’d actually been a little disappointed that there were two beds.
“Gator?” she whispered in the dark. She hadn’t heard a sound from him since she’d turned off the light. No rustling, no breathing, nothing.
“Hmm?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time wishing that you weren’t going west, and I wasn’t going D. C.”
“Me too.” His low answer vibrated along her spine.
“That’s good to hear.”
She waited a few minutes, trying to tell herself to just keep her lips closed.
“Gator?”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that kiss too.”
He grunted. “I’ve spent more time trying not to think about it.”
“Oh.” She hoped she didn’t sound as disappointed as she felt. “Really?”
“It was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”
Her emotions did a complete about-face. “Yes. That’s true for me too.”
“I thought maybe it was a fluke. That it wasn’t as explosive as I thought it was. That I exaggerated my response.” The sheets rustled like he was shrugging or rolling over.
“I haven’t had any of those thoughts. I’m sure about what I felt.”
“Oh, yeah? What was that?”
“Like I wanted to do it again.”
Gator groaned softly. “Isn’t there some kind of music theory we could talk about? How about the history of the tuba dating back to the Middle Ages? Or maybe composers, including their birthdates, dates of death, and the number and types of pieces they composed?”
“You don’t want to talk about the kiss? Why? Because there’s no future for us?”
More movement, like he was turning again. “No. I don’t want to talk about it because I’m never going to get to sleep if I’m thinking about kissing you. Especially with you…right there.” He breathed out heavily. “I think I’d better go sleep in my pickup.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet.”
“I don’t want you to be quiet.” He hesitated. “If you get this chair you auditioned for, you have to move to D.C.?”
She had never considered anything else. “It would be too hard to do it any other way.”
“We’d better try to get some sleep.”
“Good night, Gator.”
“Good night.”
The roads were much better in the morning and they were able to get home by noon. Before he left for his construction job, Gator went up to his mother’s attic and brought a box of pictures down for them to go through.
Mrs. Franks felt well enough to sit at the table with Avery.
“Here’s one of the inside of the barn.” Mrs. Franks waved a picture in the air.
Avery glanced at it. “Hmm. I see.” There was no party, but the colors of the photo were faded just right to indicate that it was from the same time period.
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Franks said. “She tapped a picture that she’d just uncovered. “Here’s one of Kristen and Gator.”
Anticipation mixed with dread pushed through Avery’s veins as she reached for the photo. She studied it. Gator, unsmiling, stood beside and a little behind Kristen, who wore heavy hiking boots, cargo pants, and a long-sleeved tee shirt. A gun stuck up from behind her shoulder and a knife was strapped to her waist. She knelt on one knee. A deer carcass spread out on the floor in front of her, its heavily horned head held up in her hands.
As she looked closer, Avery could see the dried blood on the knife and on Kristen’s hands.
“She’s tough.”
“That’s one word to describe her,” Mrs. Franks said thoughtfully.
“You know, maybe I shouldn’t admit that I like Gator.”
“Honey, he likes you too.”
“I think he does. But...” She tapped the picture. “After being with someone like her…it makes me feel like he couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like me.”
“Maybe after being with someone like her, he realizes how much more he wants to be with someone like you.”
Avery snorted. “You look at everything in a positive light, don’t you?”
Mrs. Franks laughed cheerfully. “I do.”
“Well then, I need your positive thoughts. Snow fell off the barn roof, and now there’s a hole in it. Fink was supposed to have someone out today to look at it, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel the party.”
“Because of one little hole?”
“It’s right in the middle of everything, and it’s not little. Plus, if we knew there was a problem with the roof and something happened, and someone got hurt, even if it had nothing to do with the roof, just the fact that we knew there was a problem and didn’t fix it could land us in a lawsuit.”
“That’s true. People love to sue. Well, I’m sure something will work out.” Mrs. Franks patted Avery’s head.
They sorted through a few more pictures, finding several with good shots of the barn decorations, when Avery’s phone buzzed with a text from Ellie.
We dug up our homeowner’s insurance. The roof replacement cost should be covered! Now we just need a contractor who will get it done before your party. : )
“Yay!” Avery read the text to Mrs. Franks.
“See. Think positive.”
One week after he spent the night lying in a separate bed with Avery only a few inches away, and didn’t even get a good-night kiss, Gator was on the Finkenbinder’s barn, working with Bret Shuff to put sheet metal roofing on.
He hadn’t made as much money working with Bret as he would have made if he’d torn the Finkenbinder’s barn down, but he’d not have the work of putting a roof on it if it had been torn down, either. Funny sometimes, how things worked out.
As he descended the ladder to grab another piece of roofing a crash came from above. Then swearing, then a “Look out!”
He looked up in time to see Bret’s tool belt slide off the edge of the roof and bounce on the top rung of the ladder, headed directly for his head.
The two hammers and pockets full of metal could possibly knock him out. Jumping the last five feet to the ground off the side of the ladder would hurt less, he decided in a split-second decision that would haunt him.
He threw himself to the side, pushing with his legs, but his boot slipped and his leg fell inside the ladder while the rest of his body was on a trajectory to fall out and to the side of the ladder.
Cracking bones and shooting pain preceded the clash and clang of the ladder as it landed beside him, inches from his head. The entire world felt hazy red.
It wouldn’t matter that he didn’t know how to dance. He wasn’t going to be dancing with Avery at her party for sure now.
Chapter Seventeen
Avery sat with Jillian and Mrs. Franks at Mrs. Franks’ kitchen table. It had been hard to imitate the lacy table doilies, but they had found doilies online and were now gluing green and red glitter to the outside edges.
“I had no idea this was going to be such a huge undertaking. I really appreciate both of your help.” She couldn’t have done it without them, but Mrs. Franks was almost worn out and Avery needed to make sure she got a nap soon. She’d been dragging for the last few days.
“It’s been fun.” The words had barely left Mrs. Franks’ mouth when she choked. Her face turned ash grey. The glue bottle that she held in her hand clattered to the table and onto the floor.
Avery and Jillian shared a horrified gaze for a millionth of a second before they both jumped up and reached for Mrs. Franks as she fell over, off of her chair.
They kept her from smacking her head on the floor.
“You call 911. I’ll spread her out,” Jillian commanded as she carefully l
ifted Mrs. Franks’ legs from the chair, then felt her neck for a pulse.
“Make sure she’s not actually choking,” Avery said as she stood and dialed the emergency number.
“There’s a pulse. Weak and slow.”
The operator dispatched an ambulance immediately.
“As long as she’s breathing and has a heartbeat, keep her comfortable until the ambulance arrives, which should be in less than five minutes.”
Mrs. Franks moaned. “I need to clean up. I can’t leave my kitchen in such a mess.”
Avery almost laughed. Here she was, scared to death that Mrs. Franks was dying, and all the lady could think about was cleaning up her kitchen.
They assured her they would take care of it as the medics bustled in.
Jillian insisted she would ride in the ambulance so Avery could organize the decorations and clean up the kitchen. Avery had wanted to go in, but she couldn’t leave everything scattered around Mrs. Franks’ house and it wasn’t fair to Jillian to try to have her sorting through things. Avery planned to head to the hospital immediately.
She was so deep in thought, worrying about Mrs. Franks, that the sound of her phone ringing made her drop the pile of craft supplies she had gathered up in her hands.
Fumbling for her phone, she drew in a calming breath before swiping the screen over a number she didn’t recognize.
“Hello?” she said.
“Good afternoon. May I please speak to Miss Avery Williams?”
“This is she.” Avery bent down to pick at the mess on the floor.
“This is Dr. Evans, executive director of the Washington D.C. Eveningtide Orchestra.”
The crafts slipped out of her hands. The knots in her stomach pulled tighter.
“Congratulations. You have been selected as the new tubists for our orchestra. Dr. Ramos and Dr. Alverzo both agreed they have never heard such beautiful tone and such exact rhythmic precision as you displayed at your audition.”
“Thank you,” she managed to stammer out. She had the chair!
“We will send you an official letter of acceptance, along with the Orchestra procedures, practice schedule, and tentative performance dates in the mail tomorrow, but I wanted to call and let you know immediately that you had been selected.”
“Wow. This is thrilling and a huge honor. I can’t wait to get started.”
“Perfect. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon. I hope your holidays are happy.”
“Yours too.”
Avery hung up the phone. Stunned.
Just like that, she had a position in a professional orchestra, playing her tuba. Her dream job.
Remembering about Mrs. Franks she dropped to her knees and began grabbing up the pieces.
Gator!
Gator would want to know that his mother had been taken to the hospital. This time, she set the craft supplies on the table before she grabbed her phone and pulled up his number.
Worry and anxiety warred with eagerness and excitement as she waited impatiently for him to pick up. His voice mail came on.
She didn’t want to scare him with a message, so she hung up and called back. Still no answer. They hadn’t talked a lot on the phone, but she’d never had trouble getting ahold of him before. But his voicemail answered again.
She finished cleaning up the last of the mess, and tried Gator’s number as she walked out the door, closing and locking it behind her.
Four rings and then his now familiar automated message came on.
After the tone she said, “I guess you must be up on the barn roof and can’t get the phone. We took your mother to the hospital. Call me when you get a chance.” She swiped off. It was the best she could do, but she didn’t know any more, and couldn’t leave any reassurance other than she was still breathing and had a heartbeat. Hardly information that would ease anyone’s mind.
Avery got into her car and drove to the hospital.
I’m at the hospital.
Avery checked her phone as the text came in, finally, from Gator.
Great. They gave us a room on the seventh floor. 742. Can you find us?
She made sure that Mrs. Franks’ feet were covered and tucked in. Not that Mrs. Franks had opened her eyes or moved since they’d taken her from the ER. Avery stuffed down the concern that choked her throat.
Jillian had gone home to feed her dog and help Fink and Ellie with the evening crowd, and since the doctor hadn’t come in yet, Avery had really been hoping Gator would show up.
I’m not going to be there right away.
Avery stared at her phone. How could he not rush to his mother’s side? Disappointment trickled through her in a slow drip. Was he not the man she thought he was? He needed to be here.
Her thumbs typed out a response.
The doctor should be in any minute. He’s not going to tell me anything since I’m not family.
Tell him you’re married to me.
Again, Avery stared at her phone, surprised at how those words shifted her insides.
I can’t lie. He’ll know right away that I’m not telling the truth.
Call me when he comes in and put me on speaker phone.
You’re not coming here? I thought you were in the hospital.
I am. I came in an ambulance, too.
Avery’s knees buckled and she sat on the hard hospital chair with a thump. Questions and fear swirled in her head.
What happened? Where are you? What room?
Broken foot. Please stay with mom. How is she?
Asleep. The nurses seemed to think it might be low iron or potassium. Hopefully nothing worse.
A young, clean-cut man in street clothes walked in just as she hit send.
“Hello.” He walked toward her with his hand outstretched. “I’m Dr. Hess. Are you the daughter?”
Avery explained the situation, dialing Gator as she did so, while the doctor walked over to Mrs. Franks’ bedside and gently shook her shoulder. Mrs. Franks blinked. Her eyes widened as they landed on the unfamiliar man standing in front of her. Her face relaxed as Avery put her hand on Mrs. Franks’ other shoulder.
“I’m right here, Mrs. Franks. I have Gator on the phone too.”
“Hi, Mom.” Gator’s voice came clearly through the phone.
Avery held the phone above the bed as the doctor explained that Mrs. Franks’ tests had come back that she was low in both iron and potassium. Avery had trouble paying attention. How had Gator broken his foot? Wouldn’t it be a pretty bad break if he were in the hospital? Or maybe he was still in the waiting room.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t concerned about Mrs. Franks, because she was, although it was a relief to hear that with a few additives to her IV, she should feel better in the morning. The iron would take a little longer to come up to normal range.
Ten minutes later, after answering a few questions from Gator, and telling Mrs. Franks that she’d probably be released in the morning, the doctor walked out.
Mrs. Franks gave a tired sigh. With her eyes closed she said, “Do either of you want to tell me why Gator is on the phone and not here?”
Gator didn’t hesitate. “I fell off the ladder and broke my foot.”
“This just happened?” Mrs. Franks asked skeptically.
“This morning.”
“Gator.” Mrs. Franks gave that motherly, threatening tone without even opening her eyes. Avery, too, wondered why he was still in the hospital if all he had was a broken foot.
“They’re doing surgery on it tomorrow morning.”
Avery’s heart skipped. Surgery? No wonder he was still in the hospital.
“What time?” Mrs. Franks asked.
“They didn’t say for sure, but they did say they start with the youngest cases first.”
“Where are you?” Mrs. Franks asked.
Gator gave her the floor and room number.
“I’m sending Avery up to check on you. Is there anything else you want to tell me?” Mrs. Franks opened her eyes and gave Avery a tired wink.
“No, Mother. I’ve told you everything. And I want Avery to stay with you. If I need something, I know how to get it. But you’re already weak, and I don’t want you by yourself.”
Mrs. Franks narrowed her eyes and looked at Avery.
Avery shrugged. He had a point. She couldn’t exactly imagine Gator lying helplessly, waiting for someone to bring him a bed pan. Mrs. Franks, on the other hand, wouldn’t want to bother anyone.
“I’ll stay here,” she said.
“Thank you,” Gator said, his voice softer, almost intimate.
Mrs. Franks, who again had her eyes closed, smiled.
Avery tapped the red button. Relieved that both Mrs. Franks and Gator would be fine, she allowed the thought that had been plaguing the back of her mind all day to emerge to the forefront.
Tomorrow she was supposed to decorate the barn. The party was the day after. There was no way she was going to have everything ready. The food, the decorations, the lights, the tables and chairs set up. Gator had promised to help, but he couldn’t now. Plus, the whole thing was moot if Mrs. Franks wasn’t well enough to go.
Disappointment welled up within her, and she was forced to face the brutal truth. She wanted to plan the party for Mrs. Franks, that was true. But it was also for herself. She loved planning, she loved parties, and she had wanted to prove to Fink and Ellie that she could spearhead a successful celebration, possibly convincing them that keeping the barn could be a good business decision. That it would not only pay to have an event planner on staff, but that it would also pay to have insurance for such events and possibly even pay to renovate the barn. It had been her backup plan in case she didn’t get the tuba chair.
The chair was hers. She smiled. She’d forgotten about that. Still, she could find a job around here teaching music and give lessons on the side and be perfectly happy. Happier. Because she’d be doing everything that she loved—music and events planning.
Plus, there had been a small window of opportunity with Gator. If things worked out, she might be able to pursue it.
Avery sat on the hard chair and looked out the window, over the lights of the city. Maybe, if she were being really honest, she’d admit that Gator might not have been the first reason she’d wanted to do the party, but he’d become the biggest reason.
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