Her chest tightened and twisted at his touch and the reference to their odd bond.
Losing a parent was expected, but not until one was well into middle age. Parents were supposed to die when they were in a nursing home and called you Puddin’ Tame because they couldn’t quite place where they knew you. They were not supposed to die before you graduated college.
“Thanks.” Her whisper was barely audible.
Ryland responded with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I’m here for you, Tessa.”
With the subtle link of their hands tethering them, she lifted her gaze to his and her heart flipped in its cage.
He slid along the bench until her leg was nearly touching his.
Her breaths quickened to shallow bursts. Flames burned her cheeks. Shoving her mass of not-brushed hair over her shoulder, he gently caressed her cheek with his long forefinger. Despite being overwarm in her sweater, shivers raced through her body and tingled like sparklers in her fingers. His eyes bowed, and dropped their focus to her lips. Her breaths escalated to a rapid staccato rhythm. With a quick turn of her head, she popped up from the bench and used every bit of her five foot four inch frame to establish a healthy distance between her and Ryland Jessup. She paced circles around the growling grizzly face painted at half court.
“Tessa…”
Throwing her arm in a Heisman pose, she kept her distance. “I can’t think. Please stay where you are. My brain is mushy.”
“Mushy brains? Sounds like something from a great horror flick we saw for my thirteenth birthday.”
Tessa and Ryland pivoted toward the gym entrance.
Bathed in the soft haze of Saturday morning sun filtering through the skylight, with a grin worthy of a cereal box, stood Joey Taylor. He lifted a basketball from near the entrance and dribbled to center court.
Tessa blinked. Repeatedly. She pinched her thigh so hard she would likely have a bruise, but Joey “call me Joe now” Taylor did not evaporate into the ether. Nope, he stood two feet in front of her getting ready to shoot hoops. And not two minutes earlier, Ryland Jessup nearly kissed her. When had her life jumped from the toilet to an episode of “As Gibson’s Run Turns”?
~*~
What just happened? Had he almost kissed Tessa? Ryland shook his head at the surrealism of the moment.
JT, his childhood best friend, professional baseball player, and eternal flirt, was bouncing a basketball as he stared intently into Tessa’s upturned face.
After twenty years of waiting, Ryland Jessup was on the brink of kissing Tessa Tarrington and Joey Taylor zoomed in for the proverbial block. He flicked the back of Joe’s head.
His friend whipped around and offered a grin of genuine warmth and friendship. “What was that for, Jess?”
“I don’t care how fancy a ballplayer you are now, you still need permission to pick up GRHS property. We can’t have just anyone playing basketball, can we?” Ryland swatted the ball into his hands mid-dribble.
Joe chuckled, casually draping an arm over Tessa’s shoulders. “Well isn’t he a big shot?” He guided her toward the bleachers leaving Ryland to follow in their intimate wake.
Tessa giggled. Really, giggling?
Releasing her from his casual embrace, Joe swiveled, plopping onto the bench. With the air of ownership with which he and all his buddies used to rule the high school, Joe leaned against the second row, stretching his long arms wide. “So, Jessup, now that I’m no longer breaking school rules, you wanna get in some trouble?”
“Want to…” Both Ryland and Tessa simultaneously corrected.
“Whoa, nerd alert.”
Tucking the basketball between his hip and his extended arm, Ryland leveled his Don’t-Mess-With-The-Linebacker-Pretty-Boy stare on his friend.
Joey responded with a lifted eyebrow and a single question. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“JT, don’t be a dweeb. You remember Tessa Tarrington. You were in praise band with her for like five years.”
Joe straightened and slowly drew his gaze from Tessa’s booted feet up to her messy blonde hair. “T.T. Tarrington? Time has been very good to you.”
Tessa’s cheeks flushed petal pink in the breath of his words.
Without a thought Ryland reenacted seventh grade dodge ball when he socked Joe square in the jaw with the ball.
“Oww. Man, careful. I make a living with that shoulder.”
Ryland missed Joe’s jaw by nearly six inches. Although not as gratifying as messing up Joe’s pretty face, he’d take a shoulder. “Well, then, don’t be a pig. Her name is Tessa not T.T.”
“It’s all right.” Tessa actually twirled her hair around her forefinger. Seriously? When she’d imagined he’d called her T.T. she nearly decapitated him. But Joe got a hair twirl?
Joe lifted his lanky frame to standing, reaching for Tessa’s hand in one smooth motion. Raising her fingers to his lips he stage-whispered his apology. “Please forgive me, Tessa. I’d never want to anger you.”
If it was humanly possible, Tessa’s blush deepened past sweet pea petals to hot pants pink.
Something angry and alien green rose in Ryland, on the edge of bursting forth. “What do you want, JT? I’ve been here since five-thirty this morning, and I’m not my usual sweet self.”
“I stopped by your house. Mabel said you were here and that Emma was spending the holiday weekend with Macy’s parents in Clintonville.” Joe’s million dollar arm once again found itself carelessly draped over Tessa’s shoulders.
“So…” Man, he wished he had another ball.
“So…as I eluded, I wanted to get into some trouble. And since you’re munchkin free I thought you might want to join.”
“I don’t do trouble anymore. I have plans.” Ryland planned to watch tape of the middle school’s last three games to see if any potential starters emerged. He’d actually contemplated walking to Pastor Tom’s for a visit. Of course, he was only concerned about his friend. Seeing the pastor’s daughter was just an unavoidable side benefit.
“Break them. I’m only home for a few more weeks before I report to Ft. Myers. And, Sean’s coming. How much trouble could we really get into with law enforcement in tow?” He shifted, focusing his plea to Tessa. “We thought we’d head to Columbus. Maybe grab dinner in the Short North, and then to Grandview for open mic night at a new coffee shop.”
“Sounds like a nice evening.” Lifting her gaze to Ryland she gave him a soft smile. “You should go with your friends.”
“Well, that includes you. Doesn’t it, darlin’?” Joe tugged Tessa tighter to his side.
“I don’t know.” She said with a shake of her head. “I’m sure my dad will need something.”
“He’d want you to be out and about. Catching up with your old friends. We can make it into a class reunion. Get a bunch of the old gang together.” Joe twisted, squatting until he was eye level with Tessa. “Wouldn’t you want to see everyone?”
Based on the reception she’d given him, Ryland guessed the only thing Tessa would want to do more than hang out with her high school classmates was to pluck every hair from her head while she watched hours of static on television.
“Joe, leave Tessa alone. She already has plans.”
“I do?”
Both Joe and Tessa shot Ryland matching confused expressions.
“You do.”
Tessa stepped away from Joe, lacing her arms over her middle. “And what, pray tell, might these grand plans be, Coach Jessup?”
Man, she was adorable when she was fired up. No more goofy grins up at Taylor now. “You are spending the evening with me.”
Closing the small space between them, she forced her chin straight north, locking her gaze with Ryland’s. “I am, am I?”
He matched her arm crossed stance. “Yes.”
“Who said?”
“I said.”
“Well, I can’t….I already have plans. And you’re spending the night reminiscing along memory lane with your
school chums.”
“School chums?”
“You know what I mean.” She said with a smack to his forearm. Swiveling away, she continued. “Thank you for the invitation, Joey, but I think it’d be best if you just enjoyed a boys’ night.” She glanced over her shoulder but didn’t meet Ryland’s eye. Apparently she’d used up all of her gumption for the day. “I really need to get back to my dad. Thank you again. I appreciate your support with my students.”
“As they say, ‘it takes a village’.”
She nodded and turned to face Joe. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Joey. Maybe I’ll see you at church. Dad’s feeling strong enough to attend for the first time tomorrow. Your brother and Maggie have been wonderfully kind stopping by and encouraging him to take his time to get better.”
“Well, if you’ll be in church, how could I miss?”
“Well good…um, well, I guess I’ll see you both tomorrow.” She gave a little wave.
Ryland was pretty sure she bobbed a curtsy before she snagged her coat and skipped through the doorway. Shaking his head, he lowered his body with a thud to the bleacher bench. What just happened? Had Tessa Tarrington just rejected him? Again?
“Crash and burn.” Joe slid onto the bench beside him.
8
Tessa let the front door slam as she kicked off her snow boots and wriggled out of her coat. “Daddy?”
“In the kitchen.”
She padded the narrow, dark wood floored hallway to the bright and airy kitchen. The wide space was decorated exactly as it was in her first memory of sitting at the chipped yellow Formica table eating a peanut butter and applesauce sandwich. As an adult, she could admit the combination was weird, but the memory of her mother combining her two favorite ingredients to soothe the ouchy of a scraped knee was a classic.
Her dad and a young woman were sharing coffee at her childhood memory table.
“Dad?”
Both heads swiveled at the same moment and joy burst from the center of Tessa’s heart. “Lily Mae!”
The barely five foot, dark haired beauty bounced to her feet, launching herself into Tessa’s arms.
“What are you doing here?” Tessa asked.
Stepping back, she nearly blinded Tessa with her toothy grin and deep set of perfect baby-doll dimples. “Cher, you sounded just miserable on the phone this week. So, I looked up at Beau and said, ‘Darlin’ I just have to go and rescue my little sister from the dangers of those mean old Yankees.’ And being the gracious Southern gentleman he is, he sent me up on his daddy’s jet. And here I am. Ready to rescue you.” Her high pitched voice was tinged with a mix of her mama’s creole and her father’s Northern Louisiana roots. The combination was heavenly music to Tessa’s ears.
“Oh, Lil.” Tessa chuckled. “Only you would commandeer a jet to come brave the cold and the Yankees to ensure your friend was OK. What would I do without you?”
“Turn into a little old lady with twenty-two cats and sixteen copies of each Jane Austen novel stashed around your one bedroom apartment.” With a hand to her hip, she challenged Tessa to disagree. “You know I’m right, cher.”
“Probably.” Tessa scrunched her nose and leaned her forehead to her friends. “Sisters forever?”
“Delta Alpha Psi until we die.”
They each lifted three fingers and tapped their hearts.
“Ahem,” Tessa’s father cleared his throat. “I see you girls have much to catch up on. I’ll be in my study. The guest room is all ready for you, Lily Mae. Stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks Reverend Tarrington, but Mama needs me home for wedding jazz by Tuesday morning. And I imagine Beau’s daddy would like his plane away from all this nasty cold sooner rather than later. But I’ll be sure to come back right quick.”
“Well, dear, you’re always welcome here.”
“Thank you, sir.” The sorority sisters and best friends linked arms as they watched Pastor Tom disappear around the corner and into his study.
Lily whipped around with a narrowed focus, dragging Tessa by the elbow up the stairs to her childhood bedroom. She nearly tossed Tessa on the bed before securing the old oak door in its frame. For a ninety pound, former cheerleader, Lily Mae Benton had the deceptive strength of a mid-afternoon storm in the bayou when a cloudless sky turned to a torrential downpour in seconds. “Spill it, T2? Why did you sound like your daddy took your favorite hound dog to the pound when I talked to you yesterday? Ella said you wouldn’t give her a straight answer about that awful Ryland Jessup, and if he’s back to torturing you again. Is he? I mean, the scary irony that you both are back at your alma mater as teachers now? Do teachers get in trouble for bullying other teachers? Or is it like the military—don’t ask don’t tell? Survive or die?” Lily Mae’s chatter and active imagination made her an excellent writer of young adult fiction, but her bent toward the dramatic often left her two best friends—Tessa and Ella Donovan—speechless. Lily plunked onto Tessa’s ancient double bed into a perfect cross-legged sit. Her over-sized blue eyes narrowed their focus on Tessa. “Well?”
She let out a sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it.”
“That isn’t even a word, Lil.”
“In the world of YA, I get to create all sorts of new words and languages—that’s why it’s a perfect genre for me. And correcting my speech didn’t work when you were trying to distract me from discovering that Bobbi Ann and Joanie were trying to stuff the ballot box in Joanie’s favor to be the homecoming nominee over me. And it didn’t work when you were trying to keep your shopping excursions with Beau for an engagement ring secret. And it won’t work today—no matter how cold this place is. How does a brain function with this much frigid surrounding it?”
“I wear layers of down. And it’s not that cold. It’s been in the thirties all week. It’s barely breaking fifty in Louisiana.”
“Fair enough.” Lily reclined against the center twist of the wrought iron footboard.
Tessa scooted off the bed and yanked her sweater over her head, suddenly overheated. Still clad in her LSU Tigers football t-shirt, her secret obsession, she folded the sweater and laid it on a small stack in her closet. She started fluffing her pillows and straightened the top coverlet. When she squared her stack of books on the nightstand, Lily whistled. Tessa flipped her hair over her shoulder. “What?”
“I flew one thousand miles—borrowed my almost father-in-law’s plane to do it—and you don’t have one word of explanation?”
Tessa shrugged, joining Lily on the bed. She tugged her childhood teddy bear to her chest. “My dad’s been sick. I’m just worried.”
“Wrong.” Lily lifted a perfectly arched dark brow. “I spent the last hour chatting with your dad about everything from the weather to the potential of the Buckeyes basketball team making the Elite Eight—puke! And he told me his doctor thought with the right medication, increased exercise, and a slightly modified diet he’d be just fine. So, new answer, Tessa. That one’s all played out.”
A wet tear trickled down Tessa’s cheek, landing on her hand with a splash.
The bed creaked with a little wave as Lily moved to place an arm over Tessa’s shoulders.
With the touch of her best friend, water began pouring from her eyes like the flooding Mississippi cresting the river’s edge.
Lily heaved Tessa and her bear to her tiny chest, stroking her back with the comfort of eight years of devoted sisterhood.
Tessa’s whole body shook with pent up tears. She cried for her lost career. For her daddy’s heart attack. For her mom. She cried because she’d left Louisiana. For almost kissing Ryland Jessup. For her flare up of crush with Joey Taylor. And for her best friend who flew one thousand miles to check on her because she knew something was wrong—even if Tessa wouldn’t admit it. When the stream began to slow, she swiped at her eyes, and slipped out of Lily’s arm. “Sorry.” She sniffled.
“Best friendship means never having to say you’re sorry, cher.”
/>
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean everything’s wrong, but I can usually handle ‘wrong’. But I just can’t seem to control anything lately.”
“Maybe it’s because you’ve been trying to control everyone and everything for so long that one wrong move caused your entire world to crumble?”
“What do you mean?”
“When we met eight years ago, I knew I’d found a kindred spirit. I mean, you were quiet and kept to yourself and I’m neither quiet nor do I keep to myself. But you felt life as deeply as I did and I knew at eighteen that was rare. But the biggest difference between you and me is even though you feel life like I do you—you’re afraid to live it.”
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it is.” She stretched her slim fingers and counted against them. “When you can’t control a situation and everyone in it, you run and hide from life until the hard stuff passes. Life was difficult in high school for you, so you hid in this room, at the coffee shop, and backstage. You ran away to Louisiana because you couldn’t control the world around you in Gibson’s Run. You only rushed your momma’s sorority, because you knew they had to take you. You chose a career where you write about other people’s lives—not your own. Anytime you come close to feeling something bigger or deeper than what you’re prepared to face, you run away.” She dropped her hands to the bed. “Why do you think you are back in Ohio?”
“My dad’s sick.”
“That’s an excuse and you know it. So what, you were fired? You should’ve stood up to both Evanstons. You can’t help that someone targeted your apartment—but you could try and figure out who did it. And why. You could—for the first time in your sweet, uncomplicated life—fight back. Tessa, you need to come home. Find out who stole your files. Don’t you want your life back?”
“I’d like to stop swimming in the toilet.”
“That’s the spirit.” Lily rested her head against Tessa’s.
9
Huddled in a darkened corner, Ryland gingerly sipped his decaf. The coffee neared a bearable temperature. The same couldn’t be said for the musical entertainment.
Life on the Porcelain Edge Page 5