I lifted one shoulder. “Oh . . . you know. Same old. It’s been slow here today, so I was just about to close up when you stopped. Nothing’s really going on.”
“And how about Sam and Meghan? Things still hot and heavy there?”
Almost involuntarily, I rolled my eyes. Alex narrowed his as he looked at me.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
I sighed. “It’s a yes. As in . . . yes, they’re still groping each other any time Bridget’s out of range. PG kissing whenever she is around. It’s disgusting.” I couldn’t help a smile, though. My big brother and the pretty art teacher from Florida had taken the long road to love, fighting their attraction to each other and then refusing to believe it meant anything more than a summer fling. No one was happier than me that they were officially together now.
“Isn’t Meghan still in school?” Alex leaned an elbow against the counter.
“Yeah, technically. I mean, during the week, she lives in Savannah and goes to classes, and then she stays here with us from Friday night until Monday morning. But now that her roommate’s moved, Sam worries about Meghan being alone in the big city. So she usually comes down here in the middle of the week, too. Oh, and Sam’s gone up to stay with her a few times this winter, when nothing was going on with the farm.”
“I’m glad for them.” Alex tilted his head, studying me. “But . . . ?”
“But nothing. I’m happy for them, too. Thrilled.”
“Oh, yeah, you sound it. I guess it’s just you’re worn out from turning somersaults in joy.”
I laughed. “No, really. I am. I love Meghan like the sister I never had, and believe me, Sam’s a much nicer person to live with these days.”
“Getting laid regularly will do that for you.” Alex nodded.
“I wouldn’t know,” I snorted. “Anyway, the point is, there’s nothing I’d change. At the same time, though, I see the handwriting on the wall. I know what’s coming. Meghan graduates in May, and then she’ll start working here in town full-time in the fall. Sam hasn’t said anything, but he’s got to be planning to pop the question soon. And even if he doesn’t, she’ll be living with us all the time. It’s going to be an adjustment for me.”
“Yeah, you’ve been queen bee of the farm for a long time now. I can’t imagine it’ll be easy to share that throne.”
I swallowed over a sudden lump in my throat. “It’s not about power or control. It’s more . . . just a reminder that I don’t actually have a place, you know? Sam would never kick me out of the house. Technically, it was left to both of us, but I know it’s really his. I’m okay with that, but where do I go? Do I move into Grandma’s bedroom and just settle into life as the old spinster aunt?”
Alex laughed. “First of all, you’re not a spinster. You’re a divorcee, and you have a kid. Second, you’re not old. Third, why do you need to stay here? Maybe this is the push you need to finally move out. Find a place for you and the kidlet.”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that.” I slid from the table and brushed off my butt. “Sam still needs me to help him run the farm and the stand. We’re doing pretty well, but not good enough to support two households yet. To get my own place, I’d need a job. And if I get a job, I can’t help Sam. See what I mean? Complicated.”
“Only if you let it be.” Alex rubbed my shoulder. “Keep an open mind. Maybe something’ll pop up. Someone who’d be willing to rent to you cheap. Are you really going to be comfortable living with Sam and Meghan after they get married and start popping out the bambinos?”
“No. But I’ll burn that bridge when I get there.”
“Hmmm.” Alex studied me, and the gleam I caught in his eye sent a shiver down my spine.
“Hmmm what? I don’t like the look you’re giving me.”
“Who, me?” He hooked a thumb at his chest and widened his eyes, trying to look innocent. “I was just thinking . . . that if you hooked a hottie and found your own HEA, maybe this wouldn’t be so . . . what did you say? Complicated.”
I patted his cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re delusional. Not going to happen, my friend. No hotties in the town of Burton. Well, one right now, standing in front of me, clearly.” I amended my words in a hurry when Alex cocked one eyebrow at me. “But none who’d be interested in me.”
“You have no idea, Ali Baba.” The grin he shot me was so sweet, I didn’t even swat him for using the nickname he’d given me when we were in grade school.
“Ha. How would you know, anyway? You don’t even live here anymore.”
“True, but I still keep my finger on the pulse, slow as it beats here in Hicksville. For instance, I happen to know that Mason Wallace is back in town.”
I shook my head. “Of course you do. We were at his bar last summer, with Meghan.”
“Right, but have you seen him? My mother tells me he’s single again, and I can see the two of you together.”
“Alex, he’s single again because his wife died. And he has a kid. I doubt he’s looking for a good time. Plus, he was in Sam’s class. He’s old.”
My friend rolled his eyes. “May I point out, my dear, that you too have a child? Maybe that’s what makes it a good match. Yours, his . . .” He squinted. “And yours, take two.”
“I’m not looking to be the next Brady bunch, thanks. I’ve got my hands full with Bridge. I don’t need to deal with some guy’s broken heart and his kid, too.”
“Okay, fine. Well . . . there’s got to be some decent talent in town.” He stood, hooked an elbow around my neck and hauled me in for a quick hug. “Tell you what. Go out with me tonight. We’ll get drinks and dance at Mason’s bar, and you can flirt with the good old boys until you find one who lights your fire.”
“Hmmm.” I pursed my lips, considering. “I do happen to have a free night. Bridget’s at her friend’s house for the weekend. Meghan’s on her way to the farm, and she promised to make dinner. I doubt she and Sam’d be unhappy if I gave them the house to themselves.”
“Then it’s a date. I’ll pick you up at eight. Don’t be late.” Alex rubbed a knuckle on my hair. “See how I did that there, with the rhyming?”
“Yeah, real original, buddy.” I pushed away from the table. “Okay, go home and see your mama. I need to get ready to close up. Text me tonight when you’re heading my way.”
“You got it.” He blew me a kiss as he walked backward toward his car. “Dress slutty. Remember, you’re looking for a man. You’re on the prowl. You’re—”
“Oh, get gone already, won’t you?” I yelled. He was still laughing when he climbed into the Porsche and drove away.
I began to pull the covers over produce tables in preparation for closing up. It was still cool enough outside that we didn’t have to move anything into refrigeration. Once the fruit was protected, I closed and locked the non-perishable cases, emptied the cash drawer and turned the key on the register.
Just before I was about to do my final walk-through—not that I needed it, but because I knew my brother would ask if I did—I heard another car pulling up. Since I was out of sight of the parking area, I stomped my foot and growled.
“Shit and boiling bollocks. Can’t these people come when I need them, not when I’m about to go home?”
“I heard that.” Meghan’s red head poked around the corner of the wall. “Lucky I’m not a paying customer.”
I grinned. “Yup, and if you tell Sam what I said, I’ll send Bridget in to have sleepovers with you every weekend.”
Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand over her heart. “As God is my witness, he’ll never hear it from me.”
“What, you don’t like my kid? She adores her Auntie Megs.”
“And I love her to pieces. But I have limited time with her uncle, and I like to make the best of it.” A smile curled her lips, and I wondered what she might be remembering. Or maybe I didn’t want to know.
“So what’re you doing here? I thought you were heading right to the house to make dinner for us
. My mouth’s been watering all day, thinking about your burgers.” Meghan’s family owned and ran a beachfront restaurant in Florida, and I loved it when she made us their signature hamburgers.
“I’m on my way.” The smile left her face, and she bit her lip. “I just wanted to talk to you by myself before tonight.”
I leaned back against a covered table. “Oh, yeah? What’s up?” My stomach turned a little; was this it? Was she going to tell me . . . she and Sam were getting married? No, I knew my brother; he’d definitely talk to me about that before he proposed. Or was she pregnant? My gaze dropped to her middle, still flat in her low-rise jeans.
“I stopped in town just now. Sam asked me to pick him up some part at Boomer’s.” Boomer was our local auto mechanic and one of my brother’s best friends, even if he was a full generation older than us.
“Okay.” I was mystified now. What could Boomer have to do with anything Meghan had to tell me?
“Ali . . .” She reached out and laid a hand on my arm. “Brice Evans died yesterday morning.”
For a moment, I was confused. Brice Evans? No, I’d just seen him last week at the grocery store. I hadn’t spoken to him, of course; the Evans family and I had operated on a strictly nod and fake smile basis for the past eight years. But he’d been there, looking the same as always. The same as he had when he’d taught my junior year history class in high school, and the same as when I’d seen him practically every day for four years. There was a time when I’d been like one of his daughters.
Meghan was continuing to speak, and I heard her vaguely over the buzzing in my ears. “Boomer said . . . it was sudden. Apparently he got up yesterday, went into the kitchen to get coffee and just . . . dropped. A heart attack, they think. He probably never knew it was happening.”
“Oh, my God.” I whispered the words, bracing my hand on the edge of the table as unexpected tears stung my eyes. “But . . . he was so young. I can’t believe it.”
“I know. Poor Reenie.” Brice’s younger daughter Maureen had been my best friend all through high school, but we hadn’t spoken in over eight years. She and Meghan had gotten friendly last summer, although Meghan didn’t say much about it, out of deference for my feelings, I suspected.
“I can’t believe I didn’t hear about it before now. Yesterday morning, you said?”
Meghan nodded. “Boomer said no one knew until early today. Mrs. Evans and the girls were at the hospital most of yesterday—they tried to resuscitate him, I guess. And then . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced up at me with worry and sympathy in her green eyes. “They wanted to wait for . . . Flynn to get home.”
I’d known it, realized the truth in some hidden part of my brain, but hearing his name aloud jolted me. Of course he’d come home now. He’d return because he had to.
“He’s here, then?” My voice was surprisingly steady.
“Boomer said he got in before lunch. He’s with his family, at the house.”
My body was stiff and my movements jerky as I nodded. “Okay.” I swallowed hard. “I’m . . . I’m going to close up here and head for home. You coming?”
Meghan gripped my arm. “Ali . . . are you all right? I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
I forced a smile, as wooden as the ones I’d aimed at Brice Evans since the summer after senior year. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean . . . it is what it is, right? I’m sorry for Reenie and Iona. I know what it’s like—” My throat closed. “I need to go, Meg. I need to get home. Bridge—” Shit. She was staying in town, at Katie’s house. I wanted her home, with me, away from where anyone—and by anyone, of course I meant Flynn—might see her.
Which was absolutely ridiculous. For eight years, my daughter had been living here, right outside Burton. She’d been going to school in town since she was five. In kindergarten and again this year, she’d shared a class with Graham Fowler, the son of Iona Evans Fowler . . . nephew of Flynn Evans . . . and while I’d been a little worried at first that someone might suspect the truth, when no one did, I’d relaxed.
But it was different now. Now her father was back in town.
Meghan stayed with me while I finished locking up, and she drove me to the house. Usually, I walked from the stand; cutting through the newly-planted fields and the budding groves of peach trees gave me a few minutes of peace and quiet between working the stand and dealing with bedlam at home. But today I didn’t hesitate when Meghan steered me into the passenger seat of her Corolla.
“Are you going to see him?”
I turned to look at her, frowning. I’d been wrapped up in my own spinning thoughts, forgetting she was even in the car. Which was really stupid, since she was the one driving it.
“See who? Oh, Flynn? No. No, I doubt it. I mean . . . I don’t think he’d want to see me. And . . . his dad. That’ll keep him busy. The funeral. And . . . everything.” I sniffed. “And then there’s the fact that he left me here, alone and pregnant, eight and a half years ago.”
“But Ali, what about Bridget? Flynn’s back in town. Aren’t you going to tell him about her?”
“God, no.” On that point, I was absolutely certain. “He won’t be here long. Trust me, he’ll get the hell out of town as soon as he can.”
She was quiet for a minute, and then as we pulled into the long driveway that led to my house, she glanced at me sideways. “Ali, remember last summer? When I was leaving to go back to Florida, and Sam and I were . . . well, you remember. I believe your words to me were something like ‘too stupid to see what was right in front of us’?”
I sighed. “Yes, of course.” I had a feeling I knew where she was going with this.
“And I asked you what you’d do differently if you could go back to the day Flynn left. You said you’d leave with him. That not a day went by that you didn’t regret letting him go.”
“I know what I said, and I meant it. If I could go back to that day, I’d change what I did. But this isn’t the same thing. It’s nothing like the same thing. Because almost nine years have passed since he walked away from me, and a hell of a lot of stuff has happened. What do you think he’d say if I told him now that I had his baby and never let him know? You think he’d thank me for that?”
“If not now, when? When his mother passes and he comes back again? Or when Bridget graduates from high school and asks you why she’s never met her dad? When is it the right time?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line and crossed my arms over my chest. “Not now. That’s all I know.” I turned in my seat and pointed at her as she parked the car. “And remember, you promised you wouldn’t tell Sam.”
Meghan looked miserable, her eyes stormy as she frowned. “I made that promise before Sam and I were . . . well, together. I haven’t said anything to him because I promised you and it’s never come up. And because you said you’d tell him yourself.”
I unhooked my seat belt and reached for the door handle. “I will. But not now.”
“Ali, please. Think about this. Flynn probably won’t be here long, like you said, and you don’t know when he might be back in town.”
I twisted my face into a parody of a smile. “That’s what I’m counting on.” I opened the door and climbed out of the car, forcing myself to walk slowly and not look upset. My brother was weird; like most guys, he was clueless much of the time, but when I was trying to hide something, he suddenly morphed into a bloodhound.
He was sitting at the kitchen table when I stepped inside. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling, and I laughed a little when his face fell.
“Don’t worry, big brother, your sweetheart is right behind me. She drove me in from the stand.”
Sam tipped his chair back, studying me. “You’re back early. What’s wrong?”
“We were slow all afternoon, and I decided to wrap up early. Why does something have to be wrong?”
The screen door behind me slammed as Meghan came in. She dropped her bag at my feet and skirted around me to get to Sam, whose chair legs clatter
ed to rest on the floor again when he jumped up to meet her halfway. I rolled my eyes as he gripped her upper arms and brought his lips down to crush hers.
“Okay, guys. That’s enough. Geez, you just saw each other Wednesday.”
Sam released Meghan’s arms, chaffing them a little as he smiled down at her. And then his smile faded. “What’s wrong, babe?” He held her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones.
“I stopped at Boomer’s to pick up your whatchamacallit. And Boomer told me Brice Evans died yesterday.”
My brother’s eyes closed. “No. Oh, my God. What happened?”
Meghan told him the same thing she’d shared with me back at the stand. Sam didn’t say anything, but I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He’d known Mr. Evans as long as I had, though not quite as well; he hadn’t dated the man’s son for four years.
“Did Boomer say anything about Maureen and Iona?” He sat back down as Meghan turned to take her bag upstairs.
“Not really. Only that they were waiting to make arrangements until Flynn got here, and that he’d arrived this morning.” Her eyes flitted to me, and then back to Sam. “Um, I’m going to take my stuff upstairs. I’ll start dinner in a few minutes.”
I pulled out the chair across from my brother, closing my eyes and letting my head drop back as I slouched.
“You okay?”
I opened one eye. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged, careful not to look at me too closely. “I don’t know. Your ex-boyfriend is back in town after eight years. His dad is dead. Thought you might, you know . . . need to talk.”
I toed my sneaker off under the table and lifted my sock-covered foot to kick him in the knee. Not too hard; I wasn’t trying to do damage, just get him to back off before I lost my shit right here in front of him.
“Ouch. What was that for?” He scowled at me, rubbing his leg.
“Man up. I barely touched you. And stop with the questions. I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
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