After the Rain

by Karen White

She was busy plucking at the front of her dress. “Does this look all right? Cassie and I are about the same size, but I have a feeling I might be a little bit bigger than her in the chest area.”

  He swallowed thickly, noticing how the tight bodice of the dress pushed up her breasts in an admirable way. “It looks, uh, fine. Come on, let’s go. Rob and Maddie left half an hour ago.”

  “Hang on.” She dropped the high heels on the porch floor, then used his arm to lean on as she quickly changed shoes. He saw the flash of her toe ring but couldn’t quite remember why he’d found it so objectionable before. It looked pretty damned good, especially with the rest of the outfit. He rubbed a hand over his face, surprised to find himself perspiring.

  “Thanks. Let’s go.” She released him and started walking toward the truck.

  He watched her move down the walk, his body awkwardly reminding him how long it had been since he’d touched a woman intimately. It was going to be a very long night.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She had stopped and turned to face him. “Um, yes. No. Not exactly. It’s, uh, your hair. It’s redder.”

  With a long, slender arm, she reached up to pat the intricate coiled pile on top of her head. “Yeah. I think Darlene went kinda wild with the color. It’s a little obnoxious.”

  Joe coughed, clearing his throat again. “No. It’s fine. Really.” He tried not to notice the bright red curls that had fallen out of the updo and now gently brushed the pale whiteness at the back of her neck.

  She allowed him to help her into the truck, and he did his best not to stare at her cleavage or the way she had to hike up the short skirt to climb up the running board. He shut her door, took a deep breath, then went to his side of the truck and climbed behind the wheel.

  As he started the engine, he realized she was shivering. He turned off the air-conditioning and opened the back windows, then slid out of his jacket and handed it to her. She stared at it without taking it.

  “You’re shivering,” he said.

  “Oh. Thanks.” She took the jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

  Buckling his seat belt, he pulled out from the curb. “If you’re still cold, you can lower your window.”

  “I’m not c-c-c-cold.”

  He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.

  She looked away, as if not wanting to meet his eyes. “I’m j-j-j-just kinda nervous. I’m not used to crowds.”

  He looked over again at this outwardly confident woman and wondered, not for the first time, about her past and why she would be nervous about facing a group of people as amiable as Walton’s citizens.

  They drove the remaining three blocks to the town square and parked in his reserved spot in front of City Hall. When he helped her down from the truck, he noticed she was clenching her teeth to keep them from moving.

  He glanced over at City Hall, where the dance was being held in the assembly room, trying to catch a glimpse of Maddie and Rob. Reluctantly he turned back to Suzanne. “Would you like to take a walk first? I could tell you about some of the people who will be here tonight if that would make you feel better.”

  Her eyes widened, and he could see the hope in them. “But shouldn’t we get inside and start chaperoning?”

  He took her hand and helped her off the running board. “That can wait. We need to calm you down first. Nobody will be able to understand what you’re saying with your teeth chattering like that.”

  She stood next to him, watching him with those clear gray eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He held out his arm, but she folded hers across her chest instead and followed him across the square. “Where are we going?” she called out, walking quickly to catch up to him.

  Stopping, he turned toward her. “Nowhere in particular. Just walking.” He slowed his pace, and she fell into step beside him. The evening was warm, and he was glad to be without his jacket, but Suzanne didn’t seem to notice. He steered her away from a large crack in the sidewalk as they walked past the square and down a side street.

  He spoke without looking at her, finding it easier to look at his feet than at her in that dress. “Most of Walton will be there tonight, and I know just about every single one of them. And not one of them, with the exception of Stinky Harden—and you’ve already met him—has a mean-spirited bone in their body.”

  She didn’t say anything, so he continued. “They’ll probably talk your ear off, but it’s because they’ve been hearing about you and want to meet you. Well, those who haven’t run into you at the store or the Dixie Diner already. Lucinda said that hiring you has been the best thing for business since her two-for-one-bra-and-panty sale.”

  Suzanne laughed, and the sound made him smile. “Yeah, they’re certainly a nosy bunch.”

  “Well, a new face in Walton is always news. But you certainly won’t find a nicer bunch of people.”

  “Is that why you want to be mayor? Because your job’s easy because everybody’s so nice?”

  He blew out a breath of air. “It’s not always easy. We have our disagreements, usually about where Walton is headed. Before I became mayor, we nearly had a civil war here over keeping Walton a town or becoming a city. It got real ugly there for a while, but it’s all water under the bridge now.”

  Suzanne slipped the jacket off her shoulders and folded it over an arm. “Why did you want to be mayor?”

  He shrugged, not really knowing the answer. “It was a challenge, I guess.”

  “Like raising six children on your own wasn’t enough?”

  “I don’t really know. Maybe because I wanted to serve the people who had helped out me and my family so much when I really needed it.”

  She didn’t skip a beat. “Or maybe because you wanted to fill up any empty hours so you didn’t have time to think?”

  He flinched and stopped walking. She stopped, too, looking directly at him. He was surprised that in her heels she was less than an inch shorter than him. It felt odd. “You don’t know anything about me. So please don’t assume that you know all the answers.”

  Her eyes clouded, a shadow passing behind them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I have this bad habit of saying what I think.”

  They continued to stroll, past the high school and the park, until they dead-ended across the street from the Methodist church, the sign in front now reading GOD ANSWERS KNEE-MAIL.

  She looked at the sign with narrowed eyes, as if trying to translate a foreign language, and it hit him again how very different she was from anybody he’d ever known. It was there in the way she talked, the way she moved, the way she kept her arms folded in front of her as if to deflect any involvement with the outside world. It made him curious about her while at the same time it warned him to stay away. “So, why don’t you like crowds?”

  She plopped down on the curb and began unbuckling her shoes. “Because people don’t generally like me—self-preservation on my part, I guess, because of how I was raised.” She stopped speaking for a moment, keeping her head lowered, her fingers stilled on the shoe’s buckle. Looking up, she narrowed her eyes at him as if daring him to listen without flinching. “I grew up in and out of foster homes. I never knew my father—my mother wasn’t even sure who he was. She was an alcoholic who would sober up and win custody of me until her next disappointment in life caused a bump in her road and she started drinking again.”

  Fighting with the buckle on her shoe, she bent back a fingernail. Cursing softly, she sucked on her finger for a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling stupid for saying something so inadequate but at a loss for any other words.

  She faced him again. “I’m not telling you this for you to be sorry for me. I’m not. I just want you to understand why I am the way I am.”

  Leaning over again, she focused her attention on the other buckle. “The first few times I was put in foster care, I would try really hard in the beginning to get them to like me. But it never really mattered in the end. I’d always e
nd up leaving them and moving on. So I stopped trying.” She slid off the shoes and sighed. “I think I’ve forgotten how to fit in.”

  He sat down next to her, feeling as if he’d finally reached beyond her surface layer and had touched her vulnerability. “I don’t think so. Maddie thinks you were sent from heaven.”

  She threw back her head and laughed. “Well, she’s a pretty neat girl herself. You’ve done a great job.”

  He pulled away and stared across the street at the church cemetery. The white slabs and crosses stared back at him like oversized stone flowers planted permanently in God’s garden. “I had help.”

  As she leaned over, her long fingers played with the silver toe ring. She didn’t answer for a while, and at first he thought she hadn’t heard him. Finally, she said, “We should be getting back. Rob could have Maddie completely undressed by now.”

  Standing abruptly, he offered her his hand. When she took it, he pulled her up, then let go. “Believe it or not, that’s not the first thought that crossed my mind. I was actually worried about what people would be saying about us.”

  Brushing off the back of her dress, she eyed him speculatively. “You’re joking, right?”

  Even standing there barefoot, her hair coming loose from its coil, she was stunning. She apparently was unaware of the effect she had on him, because of the way she kept adjusting her bodice over her breasts without turning her back to him. Clearing his throat again, he said, “I’m serious as hell.”

  She began marching back in the direction they had come. “By all means, then, let’s dispel that rumor.”

  With a frown, he followed.

  The light had shifted slightly, the encroaching darkness summoning shadows across the deep lawns and front porches Suzanne and Joe passed. The smells of late summer, of mown grass and hot asphalt, hovered over them, ensuring that Suzanne would think of Walton whenever she crossed paths with those scents again.

  They had walked another two blocks when she realized she was still barefoot. The gravel was beginning to hurt her feet, so she paused to put her shoes back on. She searched for a stop sign to lean on so she wouldn’t have to touch Joe again. After fastening the buckles, she started walking again at a brisk pace. It took a few quick steps for him to catch up. “So, is it a husband you’re running from?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “What would make you say that?”

  “Well, it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that you’re hiding from something. Miss Lena’s taking bets on your background. Some say you’re hiding from a husband; a couple of others say it’s from something scandalous. Only one person says you’ve robbed a bank.”

  Staring straight ahead, she kept walking. “Who’s Miss Lena?”

  “An old family friend. Her mind can be fuzzy, but a lot of the time she’s very lucid. You’ll probably meet her tonight.” He stood close to her shoulder, but she still didn’t look at him. He continued. “My money’s on the ‘something scandalous.’”

  She tried not to show any reaction, but she could feel her heart beating wildly. “Sorry to disappoint, but none of the above.” She kept her face straight ahead, listening to the crunching of leaves under their feet. “And why would you care anyway?”

  He tugged on her arm, making her stop to face him. “Because of Maddie.” He paused, then added, “And because people are associating you with me. I’m trying to run for mayor of this town, so if there’s anything in your background that you think I should know about so I can avoid any left punches, I’d appreciate your telling me.”

  His hand fell from her arm, and she found herself suddenly cold. His eyes were a golden green in the fading sun, the color she’d imagined the ocean would be. Taking a deep breath, she said, “An ex-fiancé. He’s a controlling bastard and I needed to hide for a while until he forgets about me. That’s all.”

  Their gazes remained locked on each other for a long moment, and she flushed. The look in his eyes told her he didn’t believe that was the whole story, and he seemed to wait, giving her another chance to tell him more. “So, what? You ran off with the engagement ring and he’s angry?”

  “Something like that.” She jerked her head in the direction of City Hall, where small clusters of people were climbing the wide front steps. “Come on—let’s find Maddie before Rob gets her into a backseat.”

  “That’s not funny.” His steps quickened.

  She tried not to smile, thinking of Maddie’s panic-stricken face when Suzanne had asked her if she thought Rob would kiss her. “Yeah, it is.”

  Taking the steps two at a time, Joe paused at the top for Suzanne to catch up. “Are you ready, then?”

  She nodded quickly, the gesture more confident than the way she felt.

  “I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

  “You don’t have to. I can handle it.”

  “I know.” He gave her a long, perusing look, and she wondered if all those years of being a father had given him the ability to read minds. “Come on. Let’s go find out what Maddie and Rob are up to.” Taking her arm, he led her inside.

  Several hours later, despite having shed her shoes, her feet and head hurt. But as Suzanne sat outside on the front steps of City Hall, watching the warm wind blow the stars around in the sky, she tried to identify another hurt that pulsed somewhere inside her.

  The citizens of Walton had certainly been friendly, if not openly curious about her and “her people,” whatever that meant. Several times, men from the crowd had emerged to ask her to dance, but she’d refused. And Joe had stayed at her elbow for the entire time until Stinky had cornered him with a few others in a political discussion. Seeing her chance to escape, she had turned toward the door and crossed the dance floor, through the sea of sequins, chiffons, and crushed velvets. It had seemed to her, then, that this was a re-creation of her life: watching other people dance while she walked through to the other side without stopping to take a twirl or dip. It had never seemed to matter to her before. She rested her head in her hands, her elbows propped on her drawn-up knees, and wondered what had changed.

  A man escorting an elderly woman appeared on the steps behind her, and the dark, well-made suit gave her a start at first before she spotted the long sideburns on the man’s face. The couple surprised her by stopping on the step next to her.

  The man spoke first. “You must be Suzanne Paris. We were trying to introduce ourselves all night but couldn’t get through your entourage.” He chuckled as if he had said something enormously funny.

  Suzanne stood, trying to reconcile this man’s heavy Southern accent and thick sideburns with the elegant cut of his suit. Either he really liked the mixing of styles or somebody else shopped for him.

  The man shook her hand, and she was surprised to find it callused. “I’m Ed Farrell, and this here’s my mama, Miz Lena Larsen.”

  “I’ve got a nice pool of money from betting on you.”

  Startled, Suzanne stared at the elderly woman, recognizing the pink sweater over her shoulders. It was the woman who always sat on her front porch with a book and waved to Suzanne as she cut through her yard.

  She shook Miss Lena’s gloved hand as the woman stared at her with wide eyes through thick glasses. “‘Something scandalous’ is winning right now, if you wanted to know.”

  So this must be the woman Joe had told her about. She hid a smile as she pictured Miss Lena with the sleeves of her pink sweater rolled up as she collected hard cash for her betting business.

  Ed patted his mother’s pink-clad shoulder. “All proceeds go to charity, in case you’re wondering. If ‘something scandalous’ wins, then the proceeds go to the beautification of the town square. It was the only way we could keep the Baptists from throwing a conniption fit.”

  “Oh, I see,” Suzanne said, although she really didn’t. She couldn’t say she’d ever met a Baptist.

  More people began to spill from the doors and down the steps, pushing the three to the side. Straining his neck toward the square, Ed
said, “It’s fireworks time. We’d best move so we can get a spot on one of the benches.”

  A soft touch on her neck brought Suzanne’s attention to Miss Lena. The old woman had lifted the charm on the chain and was looking at it closely. Her eyes were completely hidden by the reflection in her glasses from the outside lantern flanking the door, but Suzanne could see, from the bobbing of her head, the woman’s attention moving from the charm to Suzanne’s face. Abruptly, Miss Lena let the charm fall.

  A popping sound was followed by the soft spritz of white light as a small rocket was launched into the night sky. Miss Lena looked up, her sweater falling to the ground. “It looks like we’re in for some rain.”

  Suzanne bent to retrieve the sweater, then followed Miss Lena’s gaze toward the heavens. Only clear light from the moon and stars shone down on them, the cloudless sky showing deep blue and coal black at the same time, as if lending its color to one’s own interpretation.

  She handed the sweater to Ed. He shrugged and gently took his mother by the elbow. “Come on, Mama. Let’s go find a seat.”

  She allowed him to lead her down a few steps before stopping to see another rocket shoot into the sky, showering the night with bright reds and blues. Miss Lena looked up again and then back at Suzanne, and she smiled. “Yep. Looks like we’re in for nasty weather.”

  Over the old woman’s head, Ed sent Suzanne a look of apology, then began to lead his mother down the steps.

  “Good night. It was nice meeting you.”

  Ed waved back and continued his slow process down the steps.

  She felt Joe’s presence at her side before he spoke.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.” His voice sent something shifting inside her, like a tower of neatly stacked blocks suddenly being knocked over. It disoriented her, giving her the feeling of walking blind into a familiar room in which somebody had rearranged all the furniture. She swallowed deeply and pulled back her shoulders.

  “I can handle ‘alone’ fine. It’s the barrage of people that gets to me.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “Right. I’d forgotten.” He looked around. “Have you seen Maddie?”