by Vicki Hinze
“Is this what happened to you after…?”
“Innocent face.” She smiled again. More plastic even than the last one. No way was she discussing this further with him under these watchful eyes. “Let’s talk about what’s next on the plans, shall we?”
“The photographer,” David said, then polished off the last bite of his pie.
“Binks?”
He nodded. “She can meet us at 4:00, if we’re done with Carter by then. If not, tomorrow morning at 8:00.” He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “Short meeting. Just to touch base and make sure she knows what we want.”
Lauren checked her watch. “We’d best get back over to Carter’s then.”
“Great.”
As they neared the door, the quiet at Granny’s erupted into chatter. Lauren had expected it. David had not. “Keep walking,” she told him. “Don’t look back.”
Outside, he stepped to her side. “Why are they doing that?”
“Because this is a small, tight-knit community and, in those, that’s what people do.”
He paused outside the door to Carter’s. “Why do they care?”
“Because they do. You’ve been here two years, David. You should know the community is like a big family. Everyone feels totally justified to have opinions on everyone else’s life. It’s just one of those things. Like breathing.”
“That’s not been my experience,” he said. “People here were a little on the frosty side. Especially at first.”
“Good.” Shameful, but she was glad to hear it. Shame rippled through her. “Sorry. Seriously, I am sorry. I’ve seen that side. I didn’t like it either.”
“I expected a cool reception,” he said, leaning heavily on his cane. “But not freezing.”
Is that why her mother had stepped in to help him gain acceptance? That sense of betrayal reared up inside Lauren. She shoved it back down, buried it. “Well, that appears to be behind you now.”
“It was, or I thought it was.”
“Until I came home.”
“Yes,” he confessed. “But I’ve been expecting you to come back for a long time.”
He thought she’d stayed away because he was here. He didn’t know she had been kept in the dark about his moving to Holt Ridge. “Couldn’t avoid it forever. For better or worse, my family is here. These are my people.”
“It’s home.” He opened the door to Carter’s print shop.
She drew in an exaggerated breath. “Exactly. It’s home.”
Inside, Carter had a mock-up waiting for them. He turned it around on the front counter. “Will this do?”
The ticket wasn’t just serviceable. It had her mother’s artistic flair. “Did Mom do this?”
“I’ve been printing the dinner and dance tickets for your mother for a long time,” Carter said. “I know what she likes.”
In the lower right corner were tiny initials. VH. Vanessa Holt. “She did this one?”
Carter avoided Lauren’s eyes. “It’s a hybrid of some ideas she had. I wanted to stay true to her style. It’s very distinct.” He lifted a shoulder. “With her being sick and all, I didn’t want her disappointed, so I’ve been working at this to do a ticket she’d like.”
He wanted her mother’s approval. “Well, I think she would be very pleased, Carter. You did a great job.”
He smiled, transforming his stern face. “Thank you, Lauren.”
“Great.” David tapped the floor with his cane. “Print them up, Carter. When can we pick them up? I hate to rush you, but we’ve got to get them to the business owners so they can sell them, and we’re running out of time.”
“First thing in the morning.” Carter leaned against the counter. “I’ll get them printed and cut tonight.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said. “Sorry you’re having to put in overtime.”
“Anything for your mom.” He smiled. “She’s always been there for my family and me.”
She had been for everyone on the Ridge. It was her duty as a Holt. Until Atlanta, Carter would have said the same thing of Lauren. But not anymore. Now, she was the outsider who had abandoned them. They didn’t see how they’d driven her to it. Truthfully, they’d probably be mortified if they knew it.
“You can pick them up anytime after 8:00.” Carter put the papers back in his file.
“Wonderful.” Lauren smiled. “Thanks again.”
David nodded and they walked outside, paused on the sidewalk and he checked his watch. “We can make it to the photographer, if you’re up for it.”
“I am.” Lauren admitted. “I’ll feel better when some of these items are ticked off the list.”
“So will I.” He looked across the circle to B & F Photography. “I’m glad your mom stuck with the locals.”
“It’d take a natural disaster or a blast to get her to use any business not in Holt Ridge.” Lauren fell into step beside him. “I notice your limp is getting worse as the day wears on. Does it hurt?”
He nodded to a woman pushing a stroller down the sidewalk. “Afternoon, Jamie. How’s Grant?”
“Fine, thanks, David.” The young mother smiled and walked on. “Good to have you home, Lauren.”
“Thanks.” She forced herself to smile. Jamie had been especially thoughtless in her comments about David’s defection. Seems she’d forgotten all that now, but Lauren hadn’t. Still, it didn’t serve anyone well to be ungracious about it.
At the corner, they crossed the street. The concrete was wet and bits of ice were forming. “Careful,” Lauren said. “Sidewalk is refreezing.”
He slid a bit, and Lauren grabbed his arm. “Hold on.”
“Thanks.” He grabbed her arm. “The patches of ice make walking tricky.”
“For me, too.” If he resented her help, he didn’t show it. Actually, he seemed less uncomfortable. “So,” they walked on, “does it hurt?”
“A bit, but it’s not bad. The ice is not my friend.”
“Then why did you move here? I mean, where it snows so much?” Clumsily put, but it was a fair question.
He looked away. “When we were…you know, I came to think of Holt Ridge as home.” He shrugged. “I have no roots or family. That sense of belonging appealed.”
“It’s nice to belong, isn’t it?” A couple stood center circle on the snow-covered green looking at the memorial for the men and women from here who had served in the military. Above it, flew the flag, stiff in the brisk wind. At its base sat a large pot of bright red poinsettias.
“It is nice to belong,” he said. “Especially since I know you haven’t stayed away because I was here.” David glanced over at her, their arms still looped. “I worried about that, but your mother assured me my presence wouldn’t make a difference to you.”
Her mother was wrong, not that Lauren would admit it to another breathing soul. He’d left her and ended up with her family, her friends and neighbors, and her place here. She’d ended up with an apartment in a city of strangers and a job teaching kids she didn’t know. Maybe she should be more adult about it, but the truth was, she’d lost or forfeited everything, and she still didn’t understand why. The question burned on her tongue, and she opened her mouth to ask it.
“Finally, we’re here.” David reached for the door to B & F Photography and then opened it wide.
Whether deliberate avoidance or just bad timing, the window of opportunity for her questions had closed.
A woman about forty wearing a Santa hat and red sneakers stood at the counter and smiled. “Lauren Holt. As I live and breathe.” She rushed over and hugged Lauren. “Gosh, it’s good to see you, girl.”
“Hi, Binks.” Lauren hugged her back, then stepped away. “How are you?”
“Mad as fire that you ran off and forgot about us,” she said in a burst that held no heat. “But you’re home now, so all’s forgiven.” Binks turned to glance at David. “Hey. How’s the leg?”
“Okay.”
“You doing your PT like you’re supposed to?”
He was doing
physical therapy. Lauren went silent and observed.
“I don’t dare not to. Everyone on the Ridge reports the least little infraction straight to Dr. Fleming.”
Binks laughed. “Got to keep you on the straight and narrow.” She pointed to a grouping of two chairs and a small sofa. “Let’s sit and go over the checklist.”
“You have a checklist?” Lauren asked, more relieved than she wanted to acknowledge.
David nearly choked.
Binks’ expression went blank, then she quickly covered it. “Um, last year’s. Your mom has so many traditions in the events, not much changes year to year.”
David looked relieved, and Lauren wondered why. He probably feared they’d have to hash out what they wanted covered and was relieved that a lot had already been done, just not on paper.
Binks took a chair. Lauren sat on the sofa, expecting David to sit in the second chair. He chose to sit beside her instead, which had Binks hiding a half-smile. “So, we’ll start with the sleigh rides and bonfire. We always grab photos of those,” Binks said. “The Popes have been explicit on what they want—Baxter is hosting the Critters Christmas Parade. I’m telling you right now, if Jonas Calder brings a skunk this year, I’m quitting,” Binks warned.
David piped in. “The critter parade is limited to cats and dogs—and a turtle. Jamie’s little boy has a pet turtle. I didn’t think Vanessa would want him shut out of the parade, so I waived the cat-or-dog requirement for him.”
“Good thing,” Binks said, turning to Lauren. “His daddy rescued a tiger. Grant would have entered it, and tigers are cats.”
“Dodged a bullet on that one.” Lauren turned to David. “How many waivers have you issued?”
He twisted his mouth. “Just a couple.” Intentionally evasive, he parked his cane at his side and told Binks. “Don’t worry. Nothing that will send you running.”
“Glad to hear it.” She scanned the list. “Now if Baxter just behaves, we’ll be good to go.”
The odds of that mischief-maker staying in line were slim to none. But if he was as cute as he typically was when misbehaving, his transgressions would be endured, and he would be forgiven.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Binks said. “But Barbara has been worried lately.”
“Why?” Lauren asked.
Binks didn’t answer, so Lauren looked at David.
He lifted a hand. “She and Kenneth are concerned that Baxter has been depressed. That’s why they’re taking him with them everywhere all the time. They don’t want him alone, and they want to keep him busy.”
“Depressed?” He hadn’t seemed depressed. Spoiled rotten, yes, but not depressed.
“And anxious,” Binks said, coming to the dog’s defense. “He has been a little jumpy.”
“When?” Lauren swiped at her slacks.
“Outside Community Hall,” Binks said. “He chewed up a couple little sprigs of holly, and Jessica Weaver was not at all happy about it. She fussed at him. Poor Baxter looked ready for a breakdown.” Binks shook her head. “Barbara nearly never got him or Jessica calmed down.”
Spoiled rotten. That rascal had everyone wrapped around his paw.
“That leaves the Christmas dinner and dance. It’s still a dinner and dance, right?” Binks asked.
“Every year for nearly thirty years,” Lauren said. “No way am I brave enough to break that tradition.”
“Typically, I try to get candid shots of everyone, but I was thinking this year, we should get family shots, too.” Binks seemed a little shy. “The Historical Society was complaining that all its photos are older and some of the new families aren’t included. That’s not sitting well with them.”
“Family photos sounds like a great idea, Binks.” Lauren looked to David, who nodded his agreement.
“Awesome.” Binks smiled and closed her file. “That’s it then, we’re done.”
“Almost,” David said. “Will the Historical Society assist on the sitting fees?”
Binks grinned. “They’re covering the entire dinner and dance event and the family photos.”
“All of it?” That surprised David. “Great.”
“Gets even better.” Binks wrinkled her nose. “They’re paying for half of the Christmas parade. The Chamber of Commerce is donating the other half, and half on the bonfire.”
“Binks, that’s amazing.” David gave Binks a high five. “Well done.”
“I thought so.” She laughed. “Bailey Adams and Paul’s folks are covering the sleigh rides.”
“Paul’s folks?” Lauren cocked her head.
“Tom’s Hardware.” Binks flushed. “Paul helps me on a lot on photo shoots.”
“Full disclosure,” David said, teasing Binks. “They’re an item.”
“Wonderful.” Lauren tried not to envy the little leap of heart so evident on Binks’ face. The look of a young woman in love.
“Binks, you’ve outdone yourself. Vanessa will be thrilled.” David reached for his cane.
“She’s the reason they’ve been so eager to help out,” Binks said. “You know everyone around here loves Miss Vanessa.”
They did. Her mother cast a long shadow, and always had. “She’ll be ecstatic, Binks. Thank you.”
“Sure thing. I hope it perks her up and she beats that nasty infection.” Binks walked them to the door. “You tell her we’re all pulling for her.”
“I will.” Lauren smiled, praying that would be just what her mother needed to hear to fight hard and recover.
Outside, David turned to Lauren. “Any word from the hospital?”
“Not since early this morning. The antibiotics hadn’t kicked in then, and Jessica warned me Mom could go either way.”
Worry crept over his face. “You should be there with her.”
“Caroline’s there. I was given orders to get the events planned and to make sure every event goes off without a hitch.”
David grunted. “That’s asking for a lot with all these events. What goes off without a hitch?”
“Nothing.” Lauren looked at him, and shrugged. “Every event has hiccups. Some are little, others are not.” The memory of informing everyone the wedding was off. The surprise and shock and gasps. Even by phone, it had been horrible—and partially her fault for not putting out word immediately on receiving his text. A part of her had refused to believe the breakup wasn’t a terrible joke. Surely, he’d change his mind. But it wasn’t, and he didn’t. Finally, she’d accepted there wasn’t going to be further word from him and she, her mother and Caroline had contacted everyone the next morning. At least, Lauren had not been left standing alone at the altar in her wedding gown. Being spared that humiliation was a small mercy.
“I guess I left you with a mess, cancelling the wedding the night before.” David spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“One day, I’m going to ask you why you did that.” She warned him.
“But not today?”
“No, not today.” She checked her watch. “I want to know, but I need to get to the hospital and see about my mother.”
“Can we use that appointment in the morning to meet with Barbara Pope about the flowers?”
The backup appointment with Binks, in case they weren’t done at Carter’s in time today. “Eight o’clock, right?”
“Yes.” He stopped at the corner. “I’m parked down here. You need a lift?”
“No, I’m parked around the circle.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “Eight works fine. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay.” He smiled that smile. “It was good being with you today, Lauren.”
It was agony. Reminding her of all that once was and wasn’t anymore. But it was good, too, in those moments she’d forgotten to be furious with him for tossing something so special away as if it had meant nothing. “Have a good evening, David.” She turned and walked away, crossed the street, then down the circle to the far corner. When she rounded it and dropped out of sight, she took a deep breath and relaxed.
>
David stood where she’d left him, watching her go.
Jamie paused beside him on the sidewalk. The baby shook a rattle inside the stroller. “David Decker, what are you doing? You still haven’t told her.”
Jamie’s disapproval came through loud and clear. “Not yet.”
Shaking her head, Jamie frowned. “David, just tell her.”
“When it’s time, I will,” he said. “And you better not say a word before then, Jamie.”
“I won’t. No one will.” Jamie’s frown deepened. “But don’t you think it’s time? It’s been—”
“When it’s time, I’ll know it,” he said, interrupting her. “It’s not yet. That much I know for fact.”
“You underestimated her before,” Jamie said. “Don’t do it again.” Jamie walked on, pushing the stroller, making her way down the circle.
David walked down to his car. Had he underestimated Lauren? He didn’t think he had, but he wasn’t without doubt. Jamie could be right. Maybe it was time? But Lauren and he had been getting along so well. He hated to risk losing that.
He unlocked the car, got inside, then closed the door. Stretching over, he put his cane on the passenger’s floorboard, met his eyes in the rearview mirror and whispered out loud the words he feared most. “From all signs, buddy, it won’t make much difference. I’m afraid your time has come and gone.”
7
December 20th
5:15 PM
“Jessica.” Lauren spotted her near the nurse’s station. “How’s mom?”
“About the same.” Jessica frowned. “I don’t know, Lauren. It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to fight, which is counter to everything we both know about your mother.”
“She said she’d decided to—fight, I mean.” Lauren hooked her handbag on her shoulder. “Is she eating?”
“She is. But her fever breaks and comes back, breaks and comes back—not that it’s unusual, but the antibiotics really should be working now…”
“And they’re not.” Lauren looked into her best friend’s eyes. “Is she going to…” Lauren couldn’t make herself say the word.
Jessica grabbed her hand, squeezed. “If she’d really fight, it’d help. It just does. I’ve seen it a thousand times. This is just strange.”