“I think she might.” He kissed her on the cheek and straightened. “If you ask nicely and do what she says.” Tanner cast a wary glance at his nephew. “You need to help too. I’ll be checking up on you.”
“Whatever. You’re not my father.”
Jeni clapped a hand over her mouth and inched toward Natalie.
“What’d you say, Jase?” Tanner rose to full height and loomed over the boy.
“I said you’re not my father! He wouldn’t tell me what to do!”
Tanner ran a hand down his face, backing up like he’d been slapped. “I’m as close as you’re going to get to a father right now, Jason. So don’t sass me again.”
“That’s not true. My dad is coming here to get me. He told me.”
“He told you?” Tanner’s jaw began to pulse.
Jason nodded, defiance curling his mouth downward.
Natalie sucked in a breath. She took Jeni by the hand and led her to the cupboard where Grandpa hid his secret stash of candy.
“When, exactly, did he tell you that?” Tanner’s voice trembled with an edge Natalie hoped the kid would respect.
“Last night. Nan was outside and you were working. I answered the phone.”
Natalie slipped a handful of M&M’s to Jeni, hoping she hadn’t heard.
“Can we go to the barn now?” Jeni skipped over to Tanner and pulled on his hand. He stood ramrod straight, tension oozing from him. “Uncle Tanner?”
“Yeah.” He seemed to wake at the sound of her voice, stroked her head, and turned her toward the door. “Off you go.”
Jason waited with folded arms.
Tanner nodded, his mouth a grim line. “Go with your sister. We’ll talk later.” His nephew stomped out the door, calling for the dogs.
Natalie winced at Tanner’s heavy sigh. The way he clenched his hands at the base of his neck, his body stiff . . . her heart broke for him.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job with them.”
Tanner turned her way. “Did you hear what he said? He talked to Rance. How dare that man call the house and talk to Jason without my permission!”
Natalie poured coffee into a mug and handed it to him. “Apparently he doesn’t think he needs your permission.”
“I’ll set him straight on that.”
“Tanner.” She dropped into a chair, measuring his anger. “Do you or your mother have legal custody of the kids?”
He sipped and stared out the back door. “No. We don’t.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. He joined her at the table and put his head in his hands. “You know, I’m pretty sure there’s a verse in the Bible that talks about God not giving us more than we can handle.”
“I just said that to my friend Laura yesterday.” Natalie smiled at the coincidence. “But she claims it really means He doesn’t give us any more than He can handle.”
A trace of a smile tilted Tanner’s lips. “Maybe we should introduce Laura to my friend David.”
“David?” Natalie frowned. “The same David you hung out with when I used to visit?”
“The very one. Except he’s a pastor now. Puts me to sleep practically every Sunday.”
“You’re kidding.” That was surprising. “He was shyer than I was.”
“Not anymore. Just mention Jesus and he’ll yak your ears right off.” A grin whipped across his face. “But he’s still pretty cool.”
“I’m sure. Well, Laura is married. She does have a younger sister, Stacey, who is equally enthusiastic about all things Jesus.”
“Let’s do it.” Tanner’s eyes sparked. “Maybe it’ll get his nose out of my love life.”
Natalie flushed under his stare.
“Not that I have one. Anyway.” Tanner nodded toward the books. “I brought those old albums for you. My mother thought you might want to have a look.”
Natalie didn’t. But Sarah wouldn’t know that. “Thanks.” Tanner was staring again, trying hard not to, and she remembered her hair. Their eyes played tag a minute before she decided to put him out of his misery. “Attractive, I know.” She ran a hand over her head. “I’m debating a buzz cut. I’m not sure it’s salvageable.” She tapped her fingers on the box of the kit she’d placed on the table earlier.
His eyes widened but no words came. Great. She’d rendered the man speechless.
“You did that to yourself?”
“A lapse in good judgment. Any idea how this thing works?”
Tanner reached for the kit and lifted the lid. “You weren’t serious about the buzz cut.”
Natalie shrugged. “How hard can it be? Buzz, buzz, buzz. All done.”
He quirked a brow and pushed up the sleeves of his blue Henley. She watched him exhale a long breath, then he picked up the black cape she’d pulled from the cupboard as well. “In good conscience, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. Come with me.”
“What?” Natalie wanted to laugh, but his expression was so serious she didn’t dare. He was already heading for the door with the scissors. “Where are you going?”
“Outside. Barstools. Let’s go, I don’t have all day.”
“You think I’m going to let you cut my hair?” Laughter shot from her mouth as she shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Because you did such a good job?” A smile simmered and lit his eyes. “I cut Jason’s hair all the time. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
Jason’s hair hadn’t been cut for a while. And as far as trusting him . . .
“If this is your warped way of trying to get back at me for my father’s threat to put you out of a job . . .”
“Seriously? That’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Well, apart from that time you told me I looked like some dude from the Backstreet Boys.”
“I don’t think that was me.” Natalie walked on wobbly legs behind him to the patio. “Nic was always saying dumb stuff like that.”
“Yeah. Pretty sure it was you though.” His chuckle floated around her as she positioned herself on a stool at the stone bar and he fastened the cape around her neck. “I remember it quite well, you see, because it was right after I kissed you.”
A squeak of protest stuck in her throat. Okay, this was not happening. “You say trust me, then bring that up? Forget it.” She attempted to get down, but he was too quick for her.
Tanner rounded the stool, held her arms, and took her eyes prisoner. “Do you want to know what really happened that summer?”
“No.” Natalie swallowed as Tanner rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine.”
A half smile played on his lips. “Whatever your sister may have told you, she was the one coming after me. I told her I wasn’t interested. I kissed you because I wanted to, Natalie. I liked you. A lot. Now you know.”
Heat raced through her veins and lit fire to her face. “She said you kissed her.”
“Never happened.”
“But you wrote me that note. You said you were sorry.”
Tanner let out a groan. “I said I was sorry because I thought maybe I’d been out of line for kissing you. You looked so . . . shocked. Whatever, Natalie. We were kids. It was years ago. So can we just put it to rest?”
“Absolutely.” She’d like nothing better. “You brought it up.”
“I did.” His smile brought a bit of humor to his eyes. “But your response intimated that we should clear the air.”
“Intimated. Now that’s a big word.”
“I have a plethora of them in my back pocket.” Tanner examined the scissors, snapped them open and closed a couple times. “These look sharp enough. Are we done with this conversation?”
“Definitely done.” Natalie nodded. “And just so you know, I haven’t spent all these years pining for you.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Tanner stood behind her, then cupped his hands around the back of her head and gave a gentle push. “Sit like that and don’t move until I tell you.”
“You really liked me?”
M
uted laughter came from behind. “I thought we were done. Keep still.”
“You’re not just saying it to make me feel better?”
His hand stilled. “I think that razor probably still works pretty well. How do you feel about a Mohawk, Mouse?”
Natalie grinned and kept quiet. And very still.
Fifteen minutes later, she stared into the handheld mirror he’d brought her.
Somehow, Tanner had worked a miracle. She’d resigned herself to being bald by the time he was done cutting and snipping. Instead, he’d given her an almost attractive, albeit fairly short, hairstyle. She’d always had shoulder-length hair, but she kind of liked the shorter look. Might even get used to it.
“How did you do that?”
“Dumb luck, I guess.” He pulled the cape from her and shook it, sending bits of hair flying across the bushes. “You’ll look just fine for the harvest celebration tonight.”
“Oh. That.” She’d never been here for the big party, but her grandparents always ranked it right up there with Christmas. Grandpa Hal had invited her to come tonight, but let her know it was okay if she wasn’t feeling up to it. “I wasn’t planning on going.”
“You weren’t?” Either her imagination was playing tricks or he sounded slightly disappointed. “Are you still feeling lousy?”
“Just not all that fond of parties.” Natalie watched him pack up the box and fold the cape. She stretched her arms above her head and worked the kinks out of her neck. “You know if this wine-making thing doesn’t work out, you could open your own salon in town. What could we call it? Oh, I know: Tanner’s Tresses. I’m sure you’d do a booming business.”
Tanner stared like she’d lost her mind, then his face cracked into a smile.
A real, honest-to-goodness, gorgeous smile that warmed her all the way through and made her stomach flip.
“Tanner’s Tresses, huh? I’ll keep it in mind.” He brushed a hand across her shoulder. “Just a few stray hairs.” His hand moved to rest under her chin. Natalie was helpless to do more than stare at him as he turned her head to one side, then the other. “Not bad if I do say so myself.”
“Thank you.” Stupid tears pricked and she blinked them away.
“It was just a haircut.” His cheeks darkened.
She sniffed and nodded. It was so much more. But she couldn’t tell him that. Couldn’t tell him that something had awakened her sleeping soul and brought a breath of fresh air to her mundane existence. And she couldn’t tell him that for the first time in what felt like forever, she wanted to live.
“What time is this hoedown tonight?”
His dimple flashed as he stepped away from her. “It’s not a hoedown. David kicks things off around five with the blessing.”
“Okay. We’ll see.” She maneuvered her way off the wooden stool.
“Hey. Wait a sec.” He caught her hand in his.
Natalie blinked in surprise, taking in Tanner’s solemn look. “What’s wrong? Did you cut my ear off?”
“No. Your ears are intact. But . . .” His smile faded. “I owe you an apology.” Tanner let her go and folded his arms. “I’m sorry for acting like a jerk when you got here. I’m pretty stressed with things right now, with the winery, the kids, but that’s no excuse for bad manners.”
“Apology accepted.” She smiled at the relief that crept into his eyes. A fierce desire to help him de-stress came over her. And that was so not a good idea. In fact, as she weighed her options, it would be so much better if he’d continue being that jerk.
“So you’ll come tonight?” he asked. “To the party?”
No jerk in sight. She was dealing with Tanner the Nice Guy now.
Natalie retreated to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. His heavy steps followed her. “If you promise me I look presentable enough to appear in public, I’ll come to the party.” She turned to find him a few feet behind her.
“Good. It will mean a lot to Hal. And you do. Look presentable.” His grin wasn’t totally comforting. “You know sometimes you sound like a walking dictionary, right?”
“I definitively do not.” She prepared to protest, but gave up and laughed at herself. “Well, perhaps I do, at times.” She put her hands on her hips and tipped her head. “I might could throw a little slang in now an’ again, whachoosay?”
His grin widened and gave way to laughter. “Maybe you should stick with the familiar. Wouldn’t want people thinking you’re over-fermented or anything.”
“Goodness, no.” She drained the glass and set it in the sink. “I suppose I should take advantage of the fact that I actually feel normal today.” She opened the dishwasher and put a few clean dishes away. Tanner stepped over to help and they soon completed the task.
“Okay, I gotta get going.” He picked up his keys from the kitchen table. “When is your next appointment in San Francisco?”
“This Wednesday. I go every week.” Natalie tried to keep surprise out of her voice. “Why?”
He shrugged and pulled at his jaw. “I have some things I need to do in the city. I’ll drive you.”
“You’ll drive me? Tanner, that’s really not necessary.”
“Because driving yourself worked out so well the last time?”
What was he up to? “Okay, you’ve apologized. You can stop being nice. If you didn’t know about my problems, you’d still be throwing darts at my photograph.”
“Probably.” He pulled on a pair of shades and jangled his keys as he headed for the door. “But I’m really not being nice.” He glanced over his shoulder, inched his shades down to reveal eyes spiked with mischief. “I’ve just always wanted to drive a Jag.”
Sixteen
IT WAS JUST AFTER NOON BY THE TIME TANNER SUMMONED the nerve to actually get out of his truck and walk across the parking lot of the acute care facility.
He hated this place. Hated coming here. Hated the smell. Hated the looks of pity on the faces he passed at the nurses’ station. Hated that Marnie was in here.
Most of all he hated that she wouldn’t be leaving.
“Tanner. Whoa. Where’s the fire?”
He jerked his head up as he banged shoulders with the guy whose voice he so did not want to hear right now. Typical.
“Did my mother tell you where to find me?”
“What?” David Grearson took two steps back and tipped his head. “I haven’t talked to your mother since last Sunday, Tanner. I was visiting a member of my congregation.”
“And Marnie?”
David shrugged and pitched a smile. “I always pop in to pray with her when I’m here.”
“Why?” Tanner shoved his hands into his pockets. “She’s brain-dead. It’s not like she’ll hear you.”
“Maybe not, but God can hear me just fine.”
“Then He’s not listening. Because for all the prayers going up around here, my sister should have jumped out of that bed and walked out the doors of this place weeks ago.”
“Tanner.” David’s expression softened. “Why don’t I wait for you? We can grab lunch afterward.”
“So you can drone on about how this is all God’s will, whether we like it or not, and we have to accept it because He knows best and, what else, oh yeah, not my fault. You all like that one too.”
David pulled up the zipper of his beige Windbreaker and looked toward the parking lot. “Actually, I was kind of hoping we could talk chicks and basketball.”
“Right.” Tanner almost smiled. “Kinda busy, though. Harvest celebration tonight.”
“Uh-huh. And I know they don’t let you do much down there until it starts, Hal’s orders. So what’s your next excuse?”
Tanner looked away. Sorrow clogged his throat, made him want to gag. Coming here somehow dislodged the cork he’d wedged so firmly into the bottle that housed his emotions. He fought it for a minute, then gave up. “Dude . . .”
David had been his best friend since fourth grade. They’d played on almost every team together. Gone to camp together. Wo
rked the vines together. Found their faith together.
David’s faith stuck. Tanner’s . . . well, his was on hiatus. But David never wavered in their friendship. He’d been right there since Marnie’s accident, whether Tanner wanted him to be or not.
Tanner swallowed the burn in his throat, ignored the wet in his eyes. “I don’t think I can do this.”
His friend nodded. “I know you don’t. But you can.” David flung an arm around his shoulder and positioned him toward the front doors. “We’ll do it together.”
After a while, David left Tanner alone with Marnie.
Tanner barely noticed his friend slipping out the door. The moment he walked into Marnie’s room, it got hard to breathe. Hard to see.
The pale blue walls of the small, comfortable but sterile room closed in on him. A shelf opposite her bed held teddy bears and countless cards, letters from the kids, and Jeni’s carefully colored creations tacked to a bulletin board.
The first couple weeks, the flowers kept coming. After a month, they stopped. A couple weeks later, no more cards. No more calls from well-intentioned individuals wondering if there was anything at all they could do.
There wasn’t.
Tanner stood at the foot of the bed and stared at his sister, hoping somehow she’d wake up and tell him to quit giving her the stink eye the way she used to when they were kids.
The day after the accident, their father showed up. Full of excuses for Rance of course, why he couldn’t get here, would they be okay with the kids? Tanner almost lost it at that point. Who exactly did his dad think had been looking after the kids the past few years when Marnie went off her meds, disappeared for days?
She looked exactly the same as when he’d last seen her. That visit had taken so much out of him he swore he’d never come back. The doctor had talked to them that day, showed them the latest round of tests, told them the brutal truth, and asked if they were any closer to making a decision.
They hadn’t been. Now it had been two months with Marnie like this. Tanner wondered if he’d pressured Mom too much, dragging this out. But he’d held on to hope, wishing for what he knew now was the impossible.
And once Marnie was gone, they’d have to deal with Rance. Loser, poor excuse for a man, and a bunch of other descriptives Tanner attached to his sister’s ex. If that louse thought for one minute he’d show up now and take Jason and Jeni away, he had another thing coming. Tanner was ready for that fight.
The Memory of You Page 14