“Fran?” It was Sheila, the receptionist. “You’ve got a visitor.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Audrey. She’s got coffee.”
Poor Audrey had been trying to cheer her up for days. The least she could do was plaster on a smile and be grateful for the caffeine.
“Thanks, Sheila. You can send her on back.”
After a minute, Audrey poked her head in. “You decent?”
“I’m always decent. You know that.”
Her friend sauntered in and handed her a mocha that smelled heavenly. Francie wrapped her hands around it and actually felt a little better.
“You are always decent, Francie,” Audrey said, sitting down on a flimsy plastic chair. Her legs were so long in her skinny jeans, she looked comical. Like Bambi trying to get situated. “But I know one person who doesn’t think you’re so nice anymore.”
She took a sip of the coffee and winced, burning her tongue. “Who’s that?”
“Guy. Saw him a few days ago, and he didn’t ask about you once.”
“Thank God.”
“His ego was a little bruised, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Good. Maybe it’ll wither up and die.”
Audrey laughed. “Tanner should be given a medal on behalf of everyone who went to Marietta High.”
“Well, I’d tell him. But he’ll barely speak to me.”
“He’ll come around, Fran. He probably just needs some time. A lot of things happened to him this summer.”
She rubbed her thumb along the paper cup and nodded. That was true. But the problem was, she didn’t know if he’d actually come around. Maybe he wasn’t ready to take that step. Maybe he’d never be ready. The thought broke her heart. But eventually, she was going to have to accept it and move on.
“I just didn’t expect to fall so hard, so fast,” Francie said. She couldn’t look at Audrey right then. She was afraid if she did, she’d start crying, and she’d done enough of that to last a lifetime.
“I know you didn’t. But that’s how you know you got a good one, right?”
“True.” She paused, thoughtful. “I think I’m the first person outside of his family that he’s let himself care about for a while.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And it’s scary.”
“Right again.”
“But the question is, how long do I give him? How long do I allow myself to keep feeling this way?”
Audrey picked at a peeling smiley face sticker on her chair. “That’s a good question. All I can tell you is, I don’t think loving you back is the problem. I think it’s more than that.”
“I think it is, too.”
“So maybe you give him as long as you can, and then, if you have to, you walk away with your heart still intact. Or, at least somewhat intact.”
She looked out the window to where the leaves would be changing soon. Where there was green now, there’d be golds and oranges and deep burgundies. Marietta would come alive with color.
“How about Maddie?” Audrey asked. “How’s she?”
At the mention of her name, Francie’s arms felt heavy. “She’s really homesick. She likes Hawaii, but she wants to come home. Montana is all she’s ever known. She misses Tanner and Charlotte.”
“So you’re talking, then?”
“Almost every other day.” She frowned. “She’s sent Tanner pictures, but she hasn’t called him yet. I knew she was going to struggle with this, and so did he. But I don’t think anyone knew how much.”
“Poor baby.”
“What kills me the most is that I’m starting to hear some resignation in the things she says. She’s had to grow up a lot these past few weeks. I think she’s getting close to finding some peace with it and forgiving him. I’m just sorry she couldn’t stay here. That it didn’t work out.”
Audrey stared up at her. “For all of you.”
Francie smiled, and it felt wistful. “Yeah. For all of us.”
*
Tanner sat back against the trunk of the big ponderosa pine that stood looking over the governor’s large, brick home. The day was hot, but not nearly as hot as the one before. Summer was almost over, and fall would be there before he knew it.
He took a long, cool swig from his water bottle, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The job was going well so far, and everyone seemed happy with the results. The guy he’d hired, whose name was Alex, was a hard worker. Quiet and insightful, and good with his hands. Tanner liked him a lot.
He liked Helena, too. The views were spectacular, and so was the elaborate Victorian architecture. He’d been here before—it had a regional airport that Judd sometimes flew in and out of, but this was the first time he’d really taken the time to explore and soak it in.
After getting a bite to eat in the evenings, he’d walk around town, stopping in the stores to talk to the locals who were friendly and welcoming. But as much as he could appreciate a place like this for its beauty and opportunities, he missed Marietta and everything it had come to represent over the last year. It was his home. And as cheesy as it sounded, was where his heart was.
The past few months with Maddie and Francie had been so sweet. They’d grown into the unlikeliest of families, and he missed them both with a deep and painful ache that had moved its way into his very being. He spent his days on the sprawling emerald grounds of the governor’s house, working in the sun, sweating, and thinking. He spent the nights unable to sleep, finding himself walking underneath the starry sky, just to quiet his mind a little.
He shifted now underneath the shade of the tree and looked down over the vast Helena Valley. He’d finally accepted that no amount of working or walking, or anything for that matter, would ease the restlessness that was now a part of his daily existence. Or at least had been since the day Maddie had gotten on that damn plane.
He’d distanced himself from Francie that day, too, recognizing it for what it was—a survival mechanism. He’d needed this time to think, to try and figure out if being alone meant being free of pain. And ironically, it was turning out to mean just the opposite. He was so in love, that being away from her felt like he was missing a vital part of himself.
Alex waved from across the south yard and took off his hat to wipe his brow. “I’m gonna break for lunch, Boss. Back in a few.”
“Take your time, man,” Tanner called back. “We’ll start on that river rock this afternoon.”
The other man nodded and headed down the sloping drive.
Tanner watched him go, until he’d disappeared behind a grove of aspen, leaving only the trees and the silence, and the steady thudding of Tanner’s heart.
He’d gotten his first email from Maddie that morning. He’d waited to open it, wanting to be alone, and wanting to give himself some time to prepare for what she had to say.
Vivian had written, though. To tell him she loved him, and that Maddie was doing okay. But also to acknowledge that this was harder than she’d thought it’d be. That Maddie was down and missing home. He thought his aunt probably felt pretty helpless about that. The whole thing was fucked up. And it didn’t have to be this way. He could fix it if he could find a little faith within himself. Not a lot. Just a little.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped it open to his email. Staring at Maddie’s message, he tapped on it with his thumb.
Hi, Big Brother was the subject line, and his chest immediately tightened.
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write. I guess I was mad, like you said. Leaving Marietta was super hard.
Tanner looked out over the valley again, his throat aching. He clenched his jaw and blinked up at a hawk circling lazily overhead, wondering how he’d gotten to this place. This place where he’d lost his courage because it had disguised itself as righteousness. Where had he gone so wrong, and how was he just now seeing it for what it was?
He looked back down at his phone, feeling a soft breeze move the hair on his arm
s.
It’s taken a while, but I think I get it now. What you said was true. You were only doing what you thought was best for me. And I know you love me a lot. I don’t want you to feel bad about sending me to live with Aunt Vivian and Uncle Rob. It’s nice here and I’m learning to like it a little. I went boogie boarding yesterday! You would be proud of me.
I guess what I want to say is that even though I’m not living there with you, you’re still a good brother to me. Even from far away. You’ll make a great dad someday, too. I know you tried your best after Mom died and I’ll always remember that.
I love you, Tanner.
Your sister, Mads
P.S. Can you feed Charlotte a piece of cheese for me? I know you don’t like to give her people food, but I’ve been sneaking it to her and she loves it soooo much. That’s why she always wants to be on my lap when we watch movies. Ha ha.
Sometime over the last few minutes, Tanner’s vision had begun to blur. Slowly, he put his phone down. The faith that he’d been looking for had been right there, all along. It was the faith Maddie had in him.
And all of a sudden, he saw it. The answer was as clear as the deep blue sky above, as simple as the cry of the hawk in the distance. If he could send her away, and she could love him through that, what’s the worse he could do by raising her? He’d make mistakes. Hell, he’d probably screw up left and right. But if he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to embark on this alone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Francie sat in front of the movie theater on a little bench overlooking Main Street. With her belly in knots, she watched the people walking past.
The evening was chilly enough that she’d needed to grab a sweater before leaving her house, but she still wore shorts from earlier in the day. Goose bumps marched up and down her legs, but she was too preoccupied with thoughts of Tanner to notice much.
She hadn’t seen him in so long, since he’d left for Helena, that when he’d called that afternoon to tell her he was back, she’d been overcome with a strange bundle of nerves.
Meet me in front of the movies at seven? he’d asked. I need to give you something.
All afternoon she’d been obsessing over why he didn’t just come by her house. But Main Street was neutral territory, right? No chance he’d give in and carry her off to bed, if that’s what he was worried about. It’d be a perfect place to tell her he just wanted to be friends from here on out. That he hadn’t been blowing smoke before—he really wasn’t up for a relationship, and the past few weeks away had solidified that.
She knew he still had a set of keys to her back gate and patio, and that’s what he might be wanting to give her.
One of her neighbor’s kids walked by with his friends, and he smiled and waved. “Hi, Miss Tate!”
She smiled back. “Hi, Trent.” He’d grown over the summer. His hair was longer, shaggier. Only a few more years, and he’d be in middle school. Her heart squeezed. It happened so fast. Too fast.
She thought of Maddie then. She’d texted the day before yesterday and had sounded more upbeat than she had since landing in Honolulu. She’d finally emailed Tanner, and Francie could tell some of the weight she’d been carrying around was beginning to ease a little. She’d told him what she’d needed to—that she understood why he felt like he had to give her up. It had made Francie tear up, but she was proud of her. It was a moment where the little girl in her was meeting the young woman. Maddie still longed for Marietta and her brother, but she forgave him and was ready to move on with her chin up.
The scent of warm popcorn wafted out of the theater, and Francie’s stomach growled. She was surprised it was capable of growling, for how tangled up it was. Never in her life had she cared this much about a man. She loved him so much it hurt. But she realized at that moment that it didn’t matter how much she loved him. If he didn’t love her back, this would be the end of the road. She’d move on. She’d keep her chin up, too. And she’d eventually try and forget about Tanner Harlow and this summer that had burned itself into her heart like the hottest, brightest sun.
And then she looked up and there he was. Walking toward her like he was the only man in town. And he was. The only one who mattered, anyway. He wore a worn pair of jeans and a leather belt that rode low on his hips. He had on a nondescript gray T-shirt that stretched over his broad chest and shoulders just enough to reveal the muscles underneath. It was tucked in only halfway. Like he didn’t care if it stayed on or came off. It was all the same to him.
Every female cell in her body tensed at the sight.
When he saw her, he smiled. It was slow at first. Just a tilting of the lips, a teasing of the mouth. And for a second, for one heart bursting second, she didn’t think she could take it anymore. The vision of him walking toward her with the evening sun at his back. His silhouette like some kind of Wild West cowboy, coming to take what he wanted. And discard the rest. And then he’d be gone like the leaves from the maples in the fall. So beautiful, the memory so precious.
He slowed as he neared, and she stood, looking up at him.
They regarded each other in silence for a long minute, the people walking by, the cars passing on the street, all lost to Francie.
“My God,” he said, his voice low. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Her hands trembled at that, and she crossed her arms over her chest just to have something to do with them. She smiled because she couldn’t help it. Because he made her happy.
“Ditto,” she said.
“I’ve missed you, Francie.”
She didn’t answer. Just stood there waiting. Waiting for whatever he was going to say and hoping it wouldn’t leave her curled up in a little ball.
He looked down at the sidewalk and kicked at a pebble with the toe of his boot. He was unguarded right then. She could see it in the expression on his handsome face, the set of his dark jaw. The angle of his shoulders and his stance. It made her love him even more, if that was possible. Her heart thumped painfully inside her chest.
“I’ve always loved you,” he said quietly. “Even back then. I actually thought about telling you, but I knew if I ever tried, the words wouldn’t come out right. They’d get stuck like everything else, and I’d screw it up.”
She felt herself tremble. She imagined him telling her he loved her at fifteen. She was glad he didn’t. She was glad he hadn’t handed that gift to the girl she’d been back then. That girl wouldn’t have known what to do with it.
His gaze shifted to hers. And there it settled, like moonlight. Illuminating everything. Illuminating her from the inside, out.
“I’m tired of being afraid,” he said. “I’m tired of being scared of fucking up. Letting Maddie go was a mistake. Not letting you in was another one. But it’s not too late to fix it.”
He stepped closer, and she could see the individual points of stubble peppering his jaw. It was so bold and sexy. Like his eyes and his hair. Like Tanner himself.
He reached for her hand and pulled her close. She went willingly, not wanting to cry, but feeling so much joy well inside her chest, that it was going to be a miracle if she didn’t. He was warm and solid. Gentle and strong.
“I love you, Francie,” he said. “I love everything about you. I’m sorry it’s taken so many years to say it.”
Tipping her head back, she smiled her happiest smile. It wasn’t her homecoming smile, the one that had made her so popular growing up. It was the one she saved for the moments she felt the safest. The one she gave to the people she loved the most.
“Honestly, it was worth the wait,” she said.
He reached up, brushing the backs of his knuckles along her cheekbone. She was vaguely aware of people walking past, smiling at them. She guessed they must look in love. Maybe she was glowing. She felt like she was glowing.
“But one question,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“What did you want to give me?”
He grinned. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled
out an envelope and handed it to her.
“What…”
“It’s a two-way ticket to Honolulu,” he said. “Want to come with me to get my little sister back?”
The tears that had been threatening, finally spilled over her cheeks. She felt their warm tracks all the way to her chin. People were staring now, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t cried enough happy tears in her life, and she was finding that they were now her favorite kind.
He took her face in his hands and brushed the wetness away with his thumbs. “Is that a yes?”
She laughed and nodded. “Yes, Tanner,” she said. “That’s a yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Uber driver was a friendly guy in his mid-fifties. Balding, wearing a bright orange Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops, which Tanner had just learned were referred to as slippers in Hawaii.
His name was Jeff, but everyone called him Ham. They didn’t ask why. He’d moved to Oahu twenty years ago from Nebraska and hadn’t looked back since. Tanner had liked him instantly and leaned back now to look out the window while holding Francie’s hand.
The city slipped busily past their windows. It was a concrete jungle that boasted mountains in the distance that were so green, they were almost neon. The teal waters of the Pacific lapped up onto wide, white beaches, where skyscrapers towered close by.
It was a cloudy day—misty, but still warm. They were headed to Manoa, the quaint, upscale suburb where his aunt and uncle lived.
Tanner had called Vivian two days ago, telling her they were coming, and why. She’d been dismissive at first, saying things were already settled. But after almost half an hour of argument, she’d told him they’d talk when he got there. He’d asked her to keep it a secret from Maddie, who loved surprises, and he heard Vivian’s voice soften then. She’ll be beside herself, she’d said.
They finally turned onto Vivian and Rob’s street, which hadn’t changed much since Tanner had been there in elementary school. He rolled down the window and breathed in the heavy air, which smelled like plumerias.
Tanner's Promise Page 15