Can’t Let You Go

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Can’t Let You Go Page 11

by Jones, Jenny B.


  “Uh, yeah.” Randy Millhouse, barely twenty-one, tapped the microphone, then all but put his lips right on the thing. “I have an important question I think a lot of us are wanting an answer to. How much do you discount cigarettes?”

  Mr. McKeever of Thrifty Co. smoothly answered that in one non-committal sentence about how all products were discounted, then transitioned into a spiel about the chain’s record of service to their community.

  “What about the loss of family-owned businesses?” Joe Phillips, a badge-wearing sheriff, asked. “That hardware store’s been in my family for three generations. Where is your responsibility to the businesses you’re taking? Why can’t you purchase land that isn’t occupied?”

  The mayor squared his shoulders and glared at his law-enforcing employee. “The city has the right to take any property we want. The government gives us the ability to wield that power when its benefits the greater—”

  Mr. McKeever nudged the good mayor out of the way. “We know this is upsetting. Thrifty Co. understands there are families, real people, behind each property. That’s why we’ve offered generous settlements above the appraisals. When we purchase a property, those owners are often able to retire. Many of them get the chance to take it easy for the first time in their lives, travel, spend quality time with their families.”

  “If the offers are not accepted,” the mayor said. “The property owners will meet with a special commission at the county courthouse a week from Friday. I really don’t think you want to put yourselves through that legal hassle.”

  “Thrifty pays way above property value,” Mr. McKeever said. “It’s important that it’s a win-win for all parties involved.”

  “But it’s not,” I barely had the words out before Ian gave me a small push forward, closer to the mic. “If we don’t want to sell, we shouldn’t have to. Many of us don’t want your settlement deals. We want our businesses.”

  Mr. McKeever smiled. “And you are?”

  “Katie Parker Scott. My family owns the Valiant. That theater has stood there for nearly one hundred years. It’s weathered wars, a Depression, neglect, and even vandals. No amount of money can replace what it is to my family and to this community.” Applause exploded in the hall, and it served to bolster me on.

  Mr. McKeever looked so sincere. “I understand your frustration—”

  “Frustration? This goes way beyond that,” I said. “My family has poured everything we have into making the Valiant a success. It has a legacy, a history. It serves a purpose in this town. And so does Micky’s Diner. Loretta Parsons can’t simply open up in a new building and just pick up where she left off. Can you give her back the character of her restaurant? The booth where Mr. and Mrs. Dylan have sat every Friday morning for fifty years? And Foster’s Hardware. Randall Foster’s father built that place by hand with the help of the community. These aren’t just buildings. They’re like community members of In Between. And when the checks are written, everyone’s paid off, and your pretty new store opens its doors, all these promises of community involvement and helpful resources will be gone. Just like you will. But we’ll be here, Mr. McKeever. This is our town.” I pointed my finger right at the man as the emotion swelled. “And we want it back.”

  All around me friends and fellow inhabitants of In Between stood to their feet, clapping wildly. They made me smile, these folks who loved this town as much as I did. I let the sound pour into my weary spirit. After all the plays I’d performed, this might’ve been the best standing ovation I’d ever received.

  “Miss Parker Scott—” Mr. McKeever held up his hands in what I wished was absolute and total surrender. “To you and the fine people of In Between, I want to personally assure you that Thrifty Co. has a reputation for following through on our promises to invest in our store’s communities. We don’t just build a store and leave. We believe in the communities we become a part of. Thrifty Co. will do everything we can to help In Between thrive. Not only is that a long-term commitment, but it’s already begun.” He gestured toward the back of the building. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you all to. Come on up here.”

  All heads turned as Mr. McKeever invited his co-worker to join him on the stage.

  “Thrifty Co. not only believes in this town. We’re one of you. Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet our newest Community Outreach associate.”

  A collective gasp rent the air, and the breath seized in my throat as the person in question stepped into view.

  “Please welcome a man who is a friend to In Between and Thrifty Co., Mr. Charlie Benson.”

  The room spun around me, and I reached out a hand, gripping the chair beside me to steady myself.

  “Isn’t that your fiancé?” Ian asked.

  I mutely nodded my head.

  He smiled. “Very trustworthy indeed.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Katie, wait.”

  Charlie’s voice was a mocking song in my ear as I raced to my car. I was leaving behind my dignity, my backbone, and my stranded grandmother. But I didn’t care. I had to get out of there.

  “Please, stop. Let me explain.”

  “Not listening!” My car was in sight, and I whipped my keys out of purse, mashing on the unlock button like it could beam me into another universe.

  “Just wait.”

  “Kiss it, Charlie Benson!” A hot breeze blew my bangs right in my face, and as I swiped the hair out of my eyes, the keys slipped from my grip. “Shoot!” I dropped into a squat, reached for the keys and—

  Charlie’s tanned hand beat me to it.

  “Give me the keys.”

  He held them tight. “Hear me out, okay?”

  “No. That’s exactly what Ian said a few weeks ago. There was no excuse for him, and there’s no excuse for you. Men! I can’t stand the lot of you.”

  “Don’t lump me in with that guy.”

  “Why? He lied to me, and so did you.”

  “I didn’t ever lie to you.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Withheld the truth.”

  “I tried to tell you about Thrifty Co.”

  “Really? Did you try? What’s the matter, did our kissing get in the way?” I rubbed my hands over my face, wishing when I opened my eyes, this would all be a bad dream. “I’m so stupid! How could I fall for this again?”

  “I did try to tell you. Every time I would begin to explain, something would interrupt me.”

  “Like your cowardice?”

  He took a step back as if I’d struck him. “This is a job. And like it or not, it’s my job. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you or this town.”

  “And how do you feel about me? Want to know how I feel about you?”

  “Yes, let’s talk about that, shall we? God knows you’ve been dancing around it ever since that plane touched down. In case temporary amnesia has conveniently overtaken you in the last five minutes, you said you loved me.”

  “I thought I was dying!”

  “You said—and I quote—I never stopped loving you. Does that sound familiar?”

  “You know what is familiar? A man getting caught in lies and changing the topic and making this about me. The issue here is that you work for the very company that’s trying to take the Valiant and ruin this town. You’ve had every opportunity to tell me.”

  Charlie ignored that and returned to my crash-and-burn declaration. “Never stopped loving me implies that you were aware of your feelings the entire time you were dating that English loser.”

  “Any warm and tingly inclinations I might have had disappeared the second your boss called your name. Stay on topic!”

  “You care about me.”

  “I care about the Valiant. And Micky’s. And the other businesses that are going to be obliterated by this stupid money-hungry corporation you work for. How have you been sleeping at night? How do you look yourself in the mirror?”

  “It’s a good company. It employs millions of people and invests in towns.”

 
“By pillaging them first.” I held out my shaking hand. “Give me the keys.”

  “Listen to me and let me explain.”

  “I thought you were different. I thought I could trust you.” I needed to get out of here before I lost it. Before the tears took over. “I even let myself begin to think we had a chance.”

  “We do. My job doesn’t have to affect us.”

  Was he insane? Maybe the doctors should’ve checked him for head trauma. “I’m not sure what we were, but we’re over. Forever. You laid there with me on the floor of the Valiant and let me pour my heart out. While I went on and on about how this theater was everything to me, you said nothing. Nothing!” I could picture us right back there, and I ached for the way I had just gone on and on that night, while he had probably been studying the theater for the best possible spot to drop the wrecking ball. “You must’ve thought I was pretty pitiful.”

  His nostrils flared, and seconds passed before he responded. “That day ripped me in two, Katie. I know the Valiant means a lot to you. I was right there with you from the beginning when you came to In Between as that angry teenager. I watched you fall in love with theater—with life—on that stage.”

  “Then how can you take it away from me? How can you be a part of that?”

  “If I could save it, I would.” His voice was a raspy whisper. “For you—I would do anything to stop the hurt. You think I wanted to be assigned to the In Between store—where I know every face? Every life story? Everything we could be taking away? But I have no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice. And you made yours.”

  “Oh, Katie!” came a shrill female voice. “Katie, dear!”

  Maxine buzzed toward us like a queen bee, her cluster of activists swarming right behind her. Sixty more seconds and I would’ve been in my car, on the road, and far away from this disaster.

  “We’re not done talking about this,” Charlie said.

  “Yes, we are.” I ripped my keys from his lying hand. “You and I are totally done.”

  “Oh, Sweet Pea!” Maxine hugged me to her. “You did a wonderful job!” Her lips pressed near my ear. “Your ex-boyfriend is right behind us. Take off the psychopathic killer face and look like a woman in love.”

  “There you two are.” Ian glanced between me and Charlie, that smooth smile never slipping. “The local ABC affiliate would like to talk to you both. I’ve already given them my statement. Unless you’re busy, that is. I’m sure tonight was quite the shock.”

  “Not at all,” Maxine said. “You think Katie didn’t know her fiancé worked at Thrifty Co.? Bah! These two are so tight, he can’t tinkle without her knowing. Isn’t that right, Snookums?”

  I could only glare at Charlie.

  “That’s right.” Charlie’s fierce gaze held mine. “Katie knows everything about me.”

  “You did a great job,” Loretta said, then gave Charlie one of her best glares. “One of our own. Your momma raised you better than that, son.”

  “We’re going to do right by this town.” Charlie’s eyes returned to me. “For everyone.”

  “Is now a good time to talk to you about catering your wedding?” Mrs. Tanner stepped forward. “Are you two more smoked wienies or salmon?”

  “Now is not the time.” I had stepped into a Monty Python script.

  “The press would like to speak to you both,” Ian said. “I’ve already made my plea for artistic and historical preservation. Now they want to hear your opposing sides.” He cast a curious look between us. “What an interesting story angle you’ve given them. Would’ve been nice to have known about this.” And with that, Ian marched himself back into the building, the committee following him like ducklings.

  “Well.” Maxine crossed her arms over her chest and fixed Charlie with a scowl once reserved for stage managers who stole her showgirl tips. “I am not very happy with you right now.”

  “I understand,” Charlie said.

  “You are not the man I thought you were,” Maxine said. “You can just forget any gifts for your fake wedding from me. No toaster cozies for you!” She leaned close enough to hiss. “May you stew on that regret the rest of your days.” Maxine grabbed my hand. “Come on, Katie. Let’s get you away from this traitor.”

  “I’m sorry it happened like this.” Charlie’s voice was almost believable. Oh, he was good. “Please, let’s talk about it.”

  “Katie’s not speaking to you, Judas.”

  “She told me she loved me.”

  Maxine’s pause was so brief, it barely registered. “Is that what she said? Katie tells strange men she loves them all the time. It’s a mental condition. Yesterday we found her downtown pledging her heart to the statue of Sam Houston. Sometimes she forgets to take her medicine.” She tugged on my hand. “Get to steppin’”

  “You care about me,” Charlie said, as I stepped past him. “I know you do.”

  “Maybe my feelings for you are as fickle as yours are for your hometown.” I took one last look at the achingly handsome man who had become the enemy. “You and I are over.”

  *

  I pulled into Maxine’s driveway, my brain a mess of shouts and sobs. The car seemed to have driven on auto-pilot, as I had no recollection of making turns, or if I’d observed stop signs and traffic lights. I needed to go home.

  But Maxine made no move to open her door.

  “So,” she said. “You told Charlie you loved him?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t it? Finding out he works for Thrifty doesn’t really negate the words if you said them.”

  I let my head drop to the steering wheel. “I have the worst picker.”

  “Nose picker?”

  “Man picker! I’m absolutely terrible at it. I’m my mother.” I’d done everything I could not to become her, and yet, here I was. Just because I was dating men a little more upper class than Bobbie Ann Parker’s average drug dealer didn’t mean I was choosing stellar winners.

  “Sweet Pea, you are not your birth mother. I mean, like her, your chest is flat as the hood of this car, but other than that, you don’t have a thing in common.”

  “I thought I could trust Ian. And then. . .Charlie. This whole time he was here on business for Thrifty Co., and I couldn’t even see that. I should’ve figured it out.”

  “Well, it’s hard to think when you’re lip-locked and making declarations of love. You want to tell me about that?”

  Not really. I wanted that moment on the airplane to go away forever. “The plane dropped altitude. I thought we were dying, and I was having my last moments alive.” I lifted my head and stared at the dark sky beyond Maxine’s passenger window. “I told Charlie I loved him.” I gave her the rest of the details, and Maxine responded by fanning herself and cranking up the air.

  “Maybe you should talk to Charlie,” she finally said. “Hear what he has to say for himself.”

  “When the Valiant gets bulldozed, Charlie will be part of that. When that stupid store goes up in its place, Charlie will be right there for the ribbon cutting. His Thrifty Co. will stand on the graveyard of In Between businesses, and he helped it happen.”

  “Babe, despite my perfectly flawless skin and impeccable neckline, I’ve lived a lot of years. Buildings are things. It’s the people that matter.” She rested her hand on mine. “I know the Valiant means a lot to you. Nobody wants to see it go down. But you need to examine that heart. Because if you truly do love Charlie Benson, will you be able to just toss it away?”

  “I could never be with someone who’s doing what he’s doing.”

  “It’s terrible, for sure. But like he said, it’s a job.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? This is our theater we’re about to lose.”

  “I get that. But, hon, I’ve been married to two wonderful men. Dear Mr. Simmons loved me something fierce. And now my own spicy love machine Sam—”

  “Get to your point.”

  “My Sam worships the ground I walk on. And I wouldn�
�t trade that feeling for anything. And I’ve seen the way your Charlie looks at you—the way he always has. And the way you look at him.”

  “No matter what I feel for him, if he had any care for me, he wouldn’t go through with this. Charlie knew what that theater meant to me, how it had transformed my life.”

  “Life’s full of tough choices,” Maxine said. “Sometimes we just have to stumble through some together. Don’t give up on him yet.” She opened the door, flooding the car with light. “Say, what did Charlie say when you told him you loved him?”

  “Nothing.” I reached for the controls on the air conditioning, cold to the bone. “He said nothing.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I rose the next morning before the sun and got to the diner just as a sleepy Loretta unlocked the door.

  “It’s four-thirty. What are you doing here?” She walked inside and flipped on the lights.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “That Benson boy threw you for a loop, didn’t he?”

  The industrial-sized coffee pot beckoned, and I flipped some switches to bring the thing to life. “Did you know?”

  “His uncle is a big wig for Thrifty Co. That was all I knew. I had suspected your friend might be involved, but I wasn’t for sure.”

  “You could’ve shared your suspicions with me.”

  “You seemed to have enough on your plate.”

  I grabbed two white ceramic mugs and waited for the coffee maker to spit out its heavenly elixir. “Is his uncle from around here?”

  “Naw.” Loretta climbed onto a swiveling stool. “The uncle and Charlie’s dad are both from back East. So you won’t get any hometown sympathy from either one of them.”

  “Charlie’s dad’s involved in this?”

  “The bank president? Hon, you think he doesn’t see dollar signs every time he drives down Maple? Of course he’s in on it.”

  I snagged the pot and filled our mugs, grabbing two creamers and a white packet of sugar for Loretta.

  She blew on the cup, grimacing as she took a sip. “Pretty stout.”

 

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