Ten minutes later, Margaret stared at me with a face so expressionless I was afraid I’d upset her more. Which was definitely not what I was aiming for. I shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “It was just an idea.”
Her lips slowly curled upward. “One that just might work.”
A relief wave wiped the muscle tension from my body, leaving me limp. I dropped onto the stool beside her. “You think so?”
She shrugged. “Who knows with those two, but it’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while. Actually, it’s the only idea I’ve heard in a long time.”
She squeezed my hand. “I think we should at least give your plan a try. If you’re serious about this, then I’ll talk to Henry at lunchtime. He can help, and he has a backroom where we can set things up.”
Margaret’s enthusiasm stoked mine, and I found myself getting excited about the possibility my crazy plan might just work. “I should see Liza and Steve tonight. I’ll try to run the idea past at least one of them.” I had a gut feeling they would be willing to help.
“If everything goes okay, we can put things in motion after the parade tomorrow.”
“Works for me.” I looked at my watch and gasped. “I’d better get going. I told Maddie I’d meet her at the craft fair. If I don’t go now I won’t have time to look at anything before she gets there.”
Margaret smiled knowingly. “Crafts are not really Madison’s thing.”
“Not so much, no.” I gave Margaret a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, then hurried out the door. This had to work, it just had to!
It seemed darker outside than when I’d arrived in town just a couple of hours before. The steam bath humidity made the hot day feel just that much hotter. I headed up Main Street and across Market to the courthouse square where the band played a few days before.
I couldn’t keep from taking a quick peek up at the sky but there was no sign of strange glowing objects flying overhead. What I did see were clouds that seemed to be getting darker by the minute. I checked my watch and saw Maddie was supposed to meet me in about a half hour. The warning smell of water in the air had me wondering which would be worse: the heat, or the rain. Probably it would be the increased heat and humidity after the rain ended. Sighing, I pulled out my cell phone.
Maddie didn’t answer her phone so I headed over to check out the crafts. She might have figured out rain was headed this way and was about to cut my enjoyment short.
There was an amazing variety of crafts. Crochet, needlepoint, homemade candles, wooden silhouettes to put in the yard, and the ubiquitous—but nevertheless beautiful—patchwork quilts. I smiled, remembering my grandmother Grace showing me the quilt she’d made of pieces from her children’s outgrown and tattered clothing. It was an amazing work of art, filled with memories and love. Grandma, my father’s mother, had willed it to me, and I had carefully spread it on my bed, moved beyond words by the gesture.
Two weeks later I’d come home from school to find the quilt replaced by a brand new bedspread. I’d run to find my mother and ask her what happened to my precious quilt. She said she didn’t want that cheap ugly thing in her house. It didn’t go with the décor, she’d said. She’d thrown it out. Yeah, she had a thing about what was on my bed, and I had little else to decorate. No Pirates of the Caribbean posters on my walls.
I’d screamed at her, knowing even as I did I’d be in trouble for disrespect but I didn’t care. She’d disrespected me, my grandmother, and my heritage. I hated her then, really, truly hated her. When my stepdad got home, he left welts and bruises but I didn’t cry. I knew I was right.
I cried for a month but never when Mom or my stepdad could see me. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.
I’ve never stopped hating either of them.
“Are you all right?”
I looked up to see the quilt vendor standing beside me. I looked down and tears fell onto the quilt I was caressing. I quickly wiped my eyes. “I’m sorry, I was remembering my grandmother.”
“You really miss her.”
I nodded, afraid to speak lest the tears start again.
The woman touched my arm. “Your memories keep her alive.”
I nodded again, forced a watery smile, and headed over to check out the jewelry.
I tried a couple more times to call Maddie, but she wasn’t answering. The sky didn’t seem to be getting any worse, so I threw myself into enjoying the fair. Not that it was hard, mind you. Not with all the gorgeous things on sale.
I bought a necklace and matching earrings, and a few minutes later I snagged a hand-knitted green and gold shawl that would look perfect with my green fall dress. Not practical maybe, but I loved it.
The rain blew in on a gust of wind. Hard and instantly chilling, it had people squealing and hustling to cover wares and purchases. Everybody rushed in different directions, trying either to find a dry place to wait out the storm, or their cars so they could head for home.
I sprinted down the street, finally managing to find a hidey hole in a doorway, although the overhang did little to keep out the blowing rain. I turned to face the back, pulled out my cell and tried once again to call Madison, but there was still no answer.
Thunder echoed between the canyon of buildings, and I decided I didn’t want to stand here indefinitely. I’d instinctively run back across Market to Main, so it was a short run from there to Misty Lane.
“Stephie?” Margaret said as I dashed in, bringing rain and wind with me. “My goodness, you’re soaked!”
“Jake.” She yelled, then rushed over to me. “You poor thing.”
Jake came out of the back, and Margaret turned to him. “Why don’t you take Stephie upstairs and get her some towels?”
By this time, Margaret had edged me professionally into the middle of the shop, where Jake snagged me by the arm. “Come with me,” he said.
A handful of customers eyed us, and I tried to ignore them as I was guided toward the back.
We headed up the steps, and into Jake’s apartment. “I’ll get you something to wear and put your clothes in the dryer.”
I nodded and followed him into his bedroom. The bedroom, where we’d made love just a couple of days before. I shivered, and not just from the air conditioner blowing on my wet body.
“These are way too big, but they should work until your things are dry.” He handed me a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Then he walked out and closed the door behind him.
As I undressed, I debated leaving on my bra and panties, but wet undies were more uncomfortable than wet outer clothes. So I stripped, dried off, put on the soft sweats that were probably six sizes too big but at least were equipped with a drawstring, and dried my hair with the other towel. Ah, much better. I was warm again.
There was a soft knock, and Jake peeked around the edge of the door. “Decent?”
“Sometimes. I’m dressed, by the way.”
He chuckled and walked into the room.
Abruptly I became very aware of my lack of undies. I could feel the cotton material of the shirt rub against my nipples. Jake’s clothes. That thought led very quickly to the idea of Jake’s hands. I swallowed so hard I think I scratched my throat.
“You’re adorable.”
I looked at him. His expression didn’t say adorable. His face seemed to tell another story altogether. Something closer to spice than sweet.
He moved closer, and I saw his eyes were dark; his chest moved with quickly inhaled and exhaled air, the artery in his neck pulsed.
My knees got weak.
Jake pulled me close and touched his lips to mine. I pretty much collapsed against him. “I want you,” I whispered. “Take me.”
He pulled his clothes off my body and lowered me to the bed. His hands caressed, his lips kissed, his body lit fires wherever it touched mine. I pulled at his shirt while he whispered sweet somethings in my ear. Now normally I’m a little shy, but I knew what this man could do to me, and I wanted a repeat performance.
Before I had
time to consider the consequences.
He stood long enough to strip off his clothes and pull on a condom, and then he was back on top of me. And I couldn’t think at all. All I could do was feel. Trust me. That was enough.
The storm had long passed by the time I’d showered, my clothes had dried, and I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed down the stairs. An annoying beeping sound seemed to be following me as I went. By the time I reached the bottom, I’d figured out the sound was coming from my cell phone. I fished it out and listened to the messages. It was Maddie wondering where I was. I looked at the incoming calls and saw her number listed ten times. Oh boy!
I quickly dialed her.
“Where are you? I’ve been worried.”
“I’m sorry, Maddie. I got caught in the storm and had to find shelter. Besides, I tried to call you about a million times.”
“I’m at the courthouse square, where are you?”
Busted. “At Blackwood Antiques.”
There was the sound of a sharp intake of air. “I’ll meet you out front.”
The phone clicked as I took the three more steps onto the main floor. I went over to the counter and leaned against it. “Oh boy.”
Margaret put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“I just got off the phone with Maddie. She’s picking me up out front.”
She sighed and shook her head sadly. “If my daughter gives you too much grief, you let me know. I’d be happy to turn her over my knee.”
She turned to greet a customer, and I chewed on my bottom lip to keep from smiling. Twice in one day she’d threatened to spank her big baby. I knew she’d do it too. Maddie was taller than her mom, but Margaret would find a way, of that I was sure. It was obvious she felt Maddie was acting like a child. I gotta say, I pretty much agreed. But then, I wasn’t exactly acting like a responsible adult lately either.
The sun was out, and I knew it would only take minutes for Maddie to get there, so I gathered my things and cornered Jake. “I have to go,” I told him.
I saw sadness in his warm, caring expression. “I really enjoyed today.”
“Me too.” I stared up into those hot obsidian eyes. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to head back upstairs, crawl back into his bed, and make love until sometime next week.
“Will I see you again?”
Reality swept through me with more intensity than the earlier storm. It wouldn’t be long before I had to go back to my job, my life. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, you will.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
His kiss was gentle, but the passion that sparked through it all but incinerated me on the spot. No other man would ever make me feel quite the way this one did, of that I was sure. I believe I’d have traded everything I’d worked for if I could just go back up those steps with him.
Then he pulled back, and I saw the regret in his eyes. It couldn’t be, and we both knew it.
“See you around,” I whispered, and he nodded.
I turned and all but ran out, sure if I slowed down, even a little, I’d never go. I fought the tears, but a few leaked out in spite of my efforts.
Less than three minutes later, Maddie pulled up to the curb. I jumped in and she took off before I had my seatbelt buckled. “You don’t look like you got caught in the storm.”
“Margaret made sure I got dried off.”
“Sounds like her.”
And then it was quiet.
To amuse myself, and keep my mind off the man I’d just walked away from, I watched the houses go by. Just like back home in Crooked Hollow, it was common for a large expensive house to sit right beside a tiny one. This mix seemed to be a peculiarity of the South, though both moneyed and not knew their places well. Maybe that’s why it worked in the South; knowing one’s place was a basic Southern trait.
One thing did surprise me; here there didn’t seem to be the kind of severe poverty I’d seen back home. There were no shacks, no 1970s’ trailer homes with broken windows and overgrown yards. No dirty kids in nothing but diapers, playing with secondhand toys in the yard.
I thought again of what the editor of the local paper had said, “We take care of our own.” Maybe they really did. That would be refreshing, uplifting.
Actually, that would be freaking amazing.
I was wondering what it would be like to live in a place like that when I saw it. “Perfect.”
“What’s perfect?”
“That house.” Happy she’d spoken to me, I pointed toward the modest brick rancher with a for sale sign in front.
She was frowning. “Perfect for what?”
I was beginning to wish I hadn’t said anything. But then, Maddie was my closest friend. If I couldn’t talk to her, who could I talk to? “It’s silly, but that house is exactly the kind I’d like to live in one day.”
She gave me a confused look, then shrugged. “Maybe you can find something similar near D.C.”
The realization that I didn’t want to move anywhere near D.C. scared me a little. Okay, maybe it scared me a lot. I was getting way too attached to this weird little town. What in the world was wrong with me? I’d set my goals in the ninth grade and hadn’t looked back.
Until now.
We went back to quiet, contemplative traveling, and I thought about how Maddie wasn’t happy with me just for being in Jake’s store. How would she feel if she knew I’d been in his bed? Twice. And what would she think if she knew I was actually giving thought to what it would be like to live here. What it would be like to be married—
Oh hell no! I was so not going down that road. Down that way was total, complete, insanity. Nope. Not going.
Stephie Blackwood. It did have a nice sound.
Stop, brain. No. Never happen. Not in a million years. My best friend hates him.
Maybe the plan would work.
Or not. Be realistic! I screamed at my brain.
The car stopped, and I had been so wrapped up in my guilty ruminations I hadn’t realized we had arrived at Margaret’s house.
Maddie said nothing to me, just grabbed her purse and headed toward the door. Kicking myself mentally, I took off after her.
She headed into the kitchen, dumped her purse on a chair, and poured herself a glass of orange juice. “We’re planning to leave for the carnival about five.”
“Maddie, I’m sorry about going to Jake’s to get out of the storm. I should have gone somewhere else.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. My mom works there, after all.”
Her voice squeaked, and I knew the tightness was due to barely held in emotions. Oddly, that made me a little angry. “I did try to call you,” I pointed out. “Repeatedly.”
She dropped into a chair. “I’m sorry I stranded you. I just got to thinking and lost track of time. Then the storm hit and you didn’t answer.”
“Thinking?”
“Yeah. About my life.” She picked at the design on the tablecloth. “Dani Phillips was at the brunch this morning.”
“Your old rival? You tangled for the job of school newspaper editor, right?”
“Yeah. I won.” Her face lit for a second, then drooped again. “She’s lost a lot of weight and she’s got gorgeous curly hair like you. She’s beautiful.”
Huh? Me? My gorgeous what?
“The worst thing is that she just landed a job with The New York Times. Do you believe it? Everybody always said I was a much better writer than her, but here I am working at Spy that’s one step above tabloid, and she’s with the freaking New York Times.” She groaned and lowered her face into her hands.
I just sat and stared at her. This development was too shocking for words. For emotions, even.
“What happened to the life I had planned?”
Okay, enough with the drama queen. “Wait a minute. I’m the insecure one. You’re the freaking ex-cheerleader! What’s going on here?”
She peeked out at me from between her fingers. “Coming back here just shook me up, I guess
. In my daydreams I always imagined I’d return like some conquering hero, but I’m just a reporter. Big deal. Dani Phillips is the conquering hero.”
My brain was going to explode. I rubbed my throbbing forehead and worked at assimilating what I was hearing. “But, you always said you loved working in D.C. Finger on the pulse of the country and all that.”
“I did. I do. I don’t know.” She groaned.
This was. Just. Too. Weird. “Maddie, you’re a respected reporter at a major magazine that reports on the running of our country. You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re talented. What more do you want?”
She let out a long, pathetic sigh. “I don’t know.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Maybe the carnival will cheer you up.”
“Maybe so.” She sniffed delicately. “I guess we should start getting ready.”
I started to get out of my chair, but she was faster. “I’m first in the shower,” she yelled, as she headed for the stairs.
I sat back down. How did she always do that? I grabbed her untouched orange juice and downed it. I couldn’t believe Maddie doubted herself. She was the one who’d kept me on track for the last few years. Without Madison Clark, I don’t think I could have survived the city and the back stabbing I’d landed in when I accepted the job for Capitol Spy. If Maddie was having doubts, what chance did I have of being sure what I was doing?
At least I was too freaked to feel guilty over my latest sleeping-with-her-enemy stunt, but I knew that wasn’t going to last long.
Chapter 13
Apparently, carnivals are the same everywhere. I find that observation oddly reassuring.
As I walked through the Ugly Creek Big Foot Festival Carnival (courtesy of a traveling carnival company), I felt like I was seventeen again and at the Crooked Hollow yearly carnival with my boyfriend at the time. I really cared for the guy, but my family argued he wasn’t good enough, which insulted his family. We tried, but the pressure was just too great, and eventually we broke up.
I ambled between the concession trailers and the booths where a guy could try to impress his date by paying a fortune to accomplish a damn near impossible task and collecting the bounty of a stuffed animal. Smiling, I watched one scrawny dude throw a wooden ring around the proper cone and hand his admiring girlfriend a pink pig. This was fun.
The Ugly Truth Page 14