by Terri Osburn
Which made him wonder what had happened in the last twelve years. What had her life in LA been like? A new place where no one knew her should have given Lorelei the opportunity to start over without the parental baggage holding her down. Then again, maybe the crap from childhood tagged along no matter where a person ran off to.
Spencer wouldn’t know, since he’d never felt the need to run. At least not any farther than out of the trailer park. He too knew something about parental baggage, but he’d been fortunate in that his mother had always been from the wrong side of the tracks. No one expected Paula Boyd to be any better than she was, and when she’d come up pregnant without a ring on her left hand, no one batted an eye.
In fact, where Lorelei was condemned for being a child of sin, Spencer had received little more than the occasional sympathetic glance. The double standard irked him, but he’d never played into it. Any respect his fellow natives had for him was solidly earned.
“Tilly’s is still here?” Lorelei asked. “Nothing ever changes in this town.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Spencer cut the engine and shot his passenger a smile. “We’ve got one of those twenty-four-hour pharmacies over on Cobbler Street, and the high school built a brand-new football complex three years ago.”
“So the old folks can get their pills at three a.m., and the pigskin-obsessed have a new chapel.” Lorelei dropped out of the cab. “At least their priorities are in the right place.”
“Were you expecting a shopping mall with all your Rodeo Drive shops?” Spencer asked.
With clenched teeth, Lorelei said, “Struggling waitresses don’t shop on Rodeo Drive.”
“I thought you were a struggling actress?”
“So did I.” Her voice dropped as she stepped out of the bright sunshine into the dimly lit diner. “Turns out we were both wrong.”
“Hey, Spencer.” The silver-haired waitress greeted them from behind the counter. “Have a seat, darlin’. I’ll be right with ya.”
“Thanks, Jeanne.” Spencer led Lorelei to a booth along the left side wall. Before sliding in, she brushed a hand over the red vinyl, clearing invisible crumbs. The old Lorelei wouldn’t have noticed a few crumbs.
“The burgers are still the best around,” he said, pulling two menus from behind the salt and pepper shakers. “And if you’re real nice, I’ll splurge and buy you a piece of pie.”
“I can pay for my own,” Lorelei responded, sunglasses still perched on her nose as she perused the menu. “I’ll have a salad.”
The woman was skin and bones. If anyone needed a hefty dose of greasy calories, it was his tablemate.
“Since when do you turn down a hamburger?”
“Since I lost out on an underwear commercial because of love handles.”
The sunglasses hid Lorelei’s eyes, making it difficult to read her expression. But her voice made it clear she wasn’t joking. Lorelei had always been confident about her body, which is why the confession put him off-kilter. This was the first time since seeing her at the airport that Spencer felt as if he were talking to a stranger.
With little else to go on, he followed his instincts. “Whoever was in charge of that commercial is a moron. And if I’d have been there, I would have told him so.”
“It was a woman, and she was right.” Lorelei crossed her arms and looked away from him. “And that white-knight bit is cute, but a waste of time.”
Jeanne stepped up to the table before Spencer could respond. She’d been a staple at Tilly’s Diner for as long as Spencer could remember. “Okay, folks. What are we having?”
“House salad,” Lorelei said. “Separate checks.”
“House salad for Lorelei,” Jeanne said. Lorelei huffed as she removed the sunglasses, but the waitress ignored her. “And what to drink?”
“Water.”
“Simple enough.” Without asking, she said, “And a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a vanilla shake for Spencer.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As the waitress walked away, Spencer chuckled. “Did you think the sunglasses would work?”
“Hoped, maybe.” Lorelei continued to avoid making eye contact. “I suppose I have it coming, but I don’t feel like facing it today.”
“You have what coming?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Open hostility. Public lynching.”
“That would take some organizing,” Spencer said. “Employing the phone tree to spread the word that you’re back in town. Remind them to bring their pitchforks. I say you have another twenty-four hours before you need to start looking over your shoulder.”
Lorelei finally met his eye. “I know better than most how far memories stretch in this town. And how unforgiving the general population can be.”
“We’re talking twelve years, Lorelei.”
“That’s like a nanosecond around here, and you know it.”
Spencer leaned forward. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe no one has given you a second thought since you left?” Almost before he’d finished speaking, a voice that could cut glass echoed from the diner entrance.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or has the infamous Lorelei Pratchett graced us with her presence once again?”
Becky Winkle strolled up to their table, her hair teased into its typical dishwater brown rat’s nest. Leave it to Lorelei’s high school nemesis to show up at exactly the wrong moment.
“Well, glory be, it really is you,” Becky said.
Lorelei managed not to grind her teeth. Barely.
“Yes, Becky. It’s really me.”
Becky Winkle had been everything Lorelei was not in high school. Head cheerleader. Teacher’s pet. Miss Popularity. All reasons to hate her on principle alone, but then Becky had made sure she and Lorelei would never be friends when, in the sixth grade, she took it upon herself to inform their classmates that Lorelei was a bastard. Yes, by the technical definition of the term, Lorelei certainly qualified. But sixth grade was also the year her mother had died, on Lorelei’s eleventh birthday no less, making her both a bastard and an orphan.
There were two ways Lorelei could have gone that year. She could have curled into herself and attempted to become invisible, or she could have lashed out, burying the hurt under a mountain of attitude and spitefulness. Lorelei had never been the reserved type, and Becky’s constant attempts to make her feel like a worthless speck of canned meat added fuel to an already angry fire. By the time they’d graduated high school, Becky and her friends had dubbed Lorelei “Hatchet Pratchett.” A name Lorelei abhorred, though she would never have let them know it. Instead, she had smiled whenever they hurled it her way.
“Is this a brief visit?” Becky asked. “Or are you back to stay?”
With a smile, Lorelei said, “I don’t really see how that’s any of your business.” She had no intention of staying in Ardent Springs any longer than it took to figure out her next move, but Becky didn’t need to know that.
Becky’s already thin lips flattened. “I see you still have the same attitude problem.”
“I see you still dress in the dark.”
“And we’re all caught up,” Spencer said. “Nice chatting with you, Becky.” His facial expression managed to appear friendly and dismissive at the same time. A skill Lorelei had never mastered. Which probably should have been her first clue that acting was not her calling.
With narrowed green eyes locked on Lorelei’s, Becky said, “It’s a shame you haven’t learned to tell the trash from the treasure after all these years, Spencer. Maybe one day you’ll wake up and realize you can do so much better than this.” The this was spoken with disgust.
“Since you’re two up on me in the divorce count,” Spencer said, “maybe you ought to take your own advice there.”
Becky attempted to flip her hair over her shoulder, but not a lock moved. How much hairspray did that take? “I guess we all make mistakes now and then. You two have a nice lunch.”
As Becky retreated across the diner, shooting
Lorelei dirty looks as she went, Spencer ran a hand through his short hair. “That was uncalled for.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been back less than twenty-four hours.”
“It’s not as if I started that.”
“Right,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Asking if you were home to stay was an absolute provocation.”
Lorelei couldn’t believe he’d take Becky’s side. “Have you forgotten how she and her friends treated me back in high school?”
“No,” Spencer said. “But we’re not in high school anymore, remember?”
Her mouth opened and closed twice, but Lorelei couldn’t think of a response. So maybe she’d been a bit childish. Becky was wearing kelly green capris with an orange blouse she must have borrowed from her mother. Who could ignore that?
“I guess I’m not as mature as you are,” she said, studying her menu as if they hadn’t already ordered. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
And she was. Which set her teeth on edge. Lorelei had believed she didn’t care anymore what Spencer thought of her, but clearly she did.
Spencer sighed. “I’m simply suggesting you not start off this second chance by making enemies right away.”
“Second chance?”
“Twelve years have gone by, Lorelei. Things change.” He settled his hand over hers. “You can start over. Show them there’s more to you than spite and attitude.”
Lorelei removed her hand from his and crossed her arms on the table. “You think I’m staying.”
“I didn’t say that.” His jaw tensed, which meant he might not have said the words, but he’d been thinking them. “Whether you stay for a month or a year, there’s no reason not to make an effort.”
“Let me be clear,” Lorelei said. “I am not here to stay. This is nothing more than a layover until I figure out where I’m going next.”
“And where are you going, Lorelei?” Spencer asked, his eyes boring into her, demanding an answer. An answer she didn’t have.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be sitting here arguing with you, now would I?”
With a smirk, he said, “Maybe that’s your answer.”
Before Lorelei could process that statement, Jeanne returned with their orders. As Spencer dove into his cheeseburger, she ruminated on his words.
Maybe that’s your answer.
What? Like she was supposed to be here arguing with him? Just because sitting across from Spencer Boyd, deflecting his constant need to reveal whatever mushy core he claimed was hiding in her shallow inner depths, felt completely natural didn’t mean a dang thing. Spencer and Ardent Springs had always been a package deal. She didn’t want the second, which meant she couldn’t have the first. But then she realized something. Why should Spencer get to ask all the questions?
“What about you?”
“What about me?” he answered around the three fries he’d shoved into his mouth.
“You live above the garage at Granny’s. Is that your dream? Working construction and catering to an old lady?”
Pointing at her with a fry, Spencer said, “Rosie would have your hide if she heard you call her that.” Then he ate the fry and wiped his hands on a napkin. Lorelei continued to stare, letting him know she expected an answer. “I don’t work construction,” he finally said. “I’m a carpenter, and I’ve taken some architecture classes. I hope to take more.”
That she did not see coming.
“Really? An architect?”
“Don’t act so surprised,” he said. “Rosie told you I was helping with the plans to renovate the theater. Did you think they let any old construction worker do that?”
“I guess I didn’t think much about it.” Lorelei pictured architects as guys in suits in fancy, big-city offices. Not her old boyfriend who was still sporting T-shirts and a cowboy hat.
“Because we’re a bunch of small-town hicks, our project wouldn’t be professional?”
That was exactly how she’d thought of the Ruby project. Dismissing it as small-town and therefore small-time. Yet more faulty thinking on her part.
Not ready or willing to talk about her own misperceptions, she asked, “What do you want to do with the classes? Are you getting a degree?”
“That’s the plan. But I’m taking it slow since I have to balance the classes around my work and helping Rosie around the house.” He took a long draw of his milkshake before adding, “I’m also thinking about going into city planning. Nashville is expanding north, and we’re close enough to attract those willing to commute. Ardent Springs could see serious expansion in the next five to ten years.”
Lorelei had hit her limit of unexpected information. First, Spencer was working on a college degree. Then Ardent Springs as a suburb of Nashville? Their dinky little town expanding? And Spencer playing a role in that expansion?
“Wow,” she said. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Again with the surprise.” Spencer lifted his burger. “Don’t you remember my obsession with old barns back in high school?”
“What do old barns have to do with any of this?”
“That was the beginning of it,” he said, after swallowing a bite of burger and wiping his mouth. “I was fascinated by their simplicity and endurance. Then I progressed to churches, and eventually I did research on the old courthouse. Who built it. When. How they managed things back in the late eighteen hundreds, without the benefit of trucks, dozers, and cranes.”
Without thinking, Lorelei swiped a spot of mayonnaise from the corner of Spencer’s mouth with her finger. She froze, realizing what she’d done. As if a single second hadn’t passed since they’d been together, happy and in love.
Wiping her finger on her napkin, Lorelei cleared her throat and asked, “How did they get the clock tower up there?”
Spencer didn’t comment on her gesture, but his brown eyes danced as he answered, “The wings and tower weren’t added until 1929, so they had more machinery by then.” Swirling the straw in his glass, he added, “My research eventually led me to look into architecture programs, and now here I am. A college student at the ripe old age of thirty.”
This was too important to let him make light. “This is a big deal, Spencer. I’m proud of you.”
Lorelei had never doubted Spencer could do anything he set his mind to. She’d just been too self-involved to think about how far he might want to go. His reluctance to leave Ardent Springs felt like a lack of ambition to her wandering heart. Clearly, that assumption had been wrong.
In fact, the list of things she’d been wrong about was getting longer by the minute.
Leaning against the red vinyl behind him, Spencer stared with narrowed eyes. “I guess it’s my turn to be surprised. I never thought college would impress you. If I remember correctly, you didn’t think much of it back in the day.”
“As you pointed out,” she said, strangely pleased to have surprised him, “we’re not in high school anymore.”
A look she hadn’t seen in a long time shone through his whiskey-colored eyes. The look that said she was special. A look that was far from accurate.
“There’s hope for you yet, Lorelei Pratchett.”
If only that were true. Hope was in short supply in her life these days.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Granny nudged Lorelei shortly after nine, ranting that they were going to be late for church. Since Lorelei’s presence inside Ardent Springs Baptist Church was more likely to bring about a sudden lightning storm than do anything to save her long-lost soul, she grunted and pulled the covers over her head. Granny had tried again an hour later, but in the end abandoned the effort.
Not long after she’d heard Granny holler a farewell and close the front door behind her, Lorelei pulled the covers down and listened. Gone were the screaming neighbors, slamming doors, and endless sirens. There was no one living on the other side of the wall or under her feet. The stillness was almost unnerving, but she kept her eyes closed, enjoying the chirping
coming from the trees outside her window.
Trees. Looming, lazy, listless trees with not a palm in sight. Lorelei had missed this place. Against her will and her own expectations, she’d missed the crickets and the frogs, the dirt roads and the dirt beneath her toes. She’d wanted sandy beaches and ocean waves, but sand invaded in places you didn’t want it to reach, and the ocean waves were daunting, trying to suck you in and take you under.
Which described the majority of Lorelei’s time in LA.
As the rush of failure threatened to drown out the quiet country sounds, something sharp and heavy pounced on Lorelei’s foot, jerking her upright in bed.
“What the—?” she started, but Ginger followed the moving foot, her claws puncturing the quilt like a razor blade through toilet paper. “Get off of me, you crazy cat!” Lorelei pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged under the covers. The fur ball shifted, looking for its prey, then shot Lorelei an evil look before dashing out of the room. “Fine. I’m awake. And you’re still evil,” she said to the cat, who was long gone.
“And you’re still not a morning person, I see.”
The man was like a freaking rash she couldn’t shake. “What are you doing up here, Spencer? I don’t remember extending an invitation.”
“Not lately anyway.” His grin did funny things to her brain, which she hoped didn’t show on her face. “I helped Rosie load up the baked goods, and she asked me to keep an eye on you.” He moved into the room with the grace of a dancer, a quality she hadn’t appreciated nearly enough in her younger days, and dropped onto the window seat. “The fund-raiser starts an hour after the service ends. As the newest member of the Ruby Restoration Committee, you’re expected to be there.”
“First off, I don’t need a babysitter. It’s not as if I’m a flight risk.” She’d run away from home to chase a dream, then run from LA to save her sanity. This didn’t mean there was a pattern forming. “And do they really need me to sit around selling cookies and muffins to the devoted?”