by Rebeca Seitz
“Okay, a couple more days. Then we’re out of here. That’s a good plan, right, Coop?” He turned his sad basset eyes her way, and she smiled. “Sorry I made you run. It won’t happen again, I promise. Because we’re going to stay far, far away from Lindell. Pretty soon you’ll be back in sunny Florida lying on the beach and ogling the poodles.” Coop harrumphed and plopped his head on his massive paws.
She maneuvered her way through town, relieved to see the white wooden S within just a few minutes. Taking the driveway much faster than the night before, she slid to a stop and popped open the car door. What to do for the next few hours before the sisters arrived with their scrapping stuff?
She got Cooper settled inside and, hands on hips, looked around the bedroom. “Coop, we’ve got half the day ahead of us. What should we do?” The dog lay his head down and closed his eyes. Okay, so something not involving an exhausted basset hound.
Her lime-green scrapping tote screamed from the corner of the room. But scrapping alone wasn’t fun, and the thought of going into Momma’s studio without the emotional protection of constant conversation was even less so.
Leaving the house wasn’t an option either since there’d be a slim chance she’d run into … people. People who’d want to know why she was here, how things were in Orlando, and when she was going back.
Which meant word of her impending departure would be all over town before breakfast, ensuring the sisters’ swift disapproval and Daddy’s disappointment.
She sighed and rubbed at the base of her skull. Was this worth the headache? Still rubbing her tight muscles, Tandy turned and left a now snoring Cooper. There was nothing stopping her from checking out the barn and seeing if anything had changed in her absence.
Her cell phone rang just as her foot hit the ground outside. She flipped it open without checking the caller ID.
“Tandy Sinclair.”
“You ran into Clay?”
“Hi, Kendra. How’s the writing coming?”
“About as good as your love life. What’d he say?”
“Sheesh, that was fast even for Stars Hill. I haven’t been home ten minutes yet. How’d you find out?”
“I have spies all over the place.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“I think the concept of spying means you don’t know who’s watching.”
“Well, it was no big deal, so retract your claws.”
“My claws are put away, honey. I think it’d be great if you two hooked up again.”
“Is this the same sister of mine who once slept outside my bedroom door to keep me from sneaking out and meeting him?” Tandy turned past the back of the house and continued toward the barn.
“You were eighteen and stupid and so was he. I was only doing my sisterly duty.”
“And now?”
“Now I think you two might be good for each other and you should let him off the hook.”
“When did you become a turncoat?”
“I’m not a turncoat. He wasn’t good for you before. He is now. I’m only keeping your best interests at heart.”
“How is it in my best interest to reconnect with the man who broke my heart ten years ago?” She put one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder leading to the hayloft and her favorite reading spot.
“Because if he broke it, that means he at least touched it, and—correct me if I’m wrong—no man has done that since.”
Tandy fumbled on the ladder, the truth of Kendra’s words hitting home. She grasped hold of the rung at her face and held on. “Oh my gosh. You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
“You’re right! How have I not had a serious relationship for an entire decade?”
“Because you’re still hung up on a man from ten years ago?”
“I’m not, Kendra. You know I’m not.” She got to the top of the ladder and crawled to the corner. Snuggling back into the scratchy hay, she twisted and squirmed until it formed a nest. “I’ve been over him for years.”
“Okay, let’s say you’re right and not delusional. Why haven’t you found a man then?”
“Because I’ve been busy! College, then law school, then moving, then work. When would I have had time to date, much less form a serious relationship?”
“Plenty of women find men during their college years and get married.”
“Goody-goody for those women. I wasn’t one of them.”
“Because you weren’t over Clay.”
“Because I was holding down three jobs and taking overloads of classes to graduate early.”
“That, too. But you could have dated.”
“When? I slept four hours a night, Kendra. I didn’t have time to do anything but go to class, work, and sleep. I don’t even remember half my time at college. It’s all just one big blur.”
“A blur that lacks a man.”
“I don’t see you doing so much better, sister.”
“Hey, this is not about me. I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.”
“So you’re dating? Who?”
“No one in particular.” Kendra’s voice took on an air of nonchalance, and Tandy knew she’d hit on something. Stars Hill upbringing meshed with lawyer instincts, and Tandy grinned. Time for a cross-examination. Stars Hill style.
“Does this unparticular man have a name?”
“I think it’s imparticular.”
“No, it’s not. It’s unparticular.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive and nice try, but I’m not getting off the subject. Who is he?”
“Nobody from around here and nothing serious, so not worth mentioning.”
“Wow, three negatives in one sentence. It must be serious.”
“It’s not serious. Unlike you and Clay. You two could be serious.”
“No, we can’t, Ken. It’s over. It was over a long time ago.”
Kendra’s sigh was long. “It doesn’t have to be over.”
“Yeah, it does. I’ve moved on. So has he. He has a diner, for crying out loud.” Forget cross-examination. Time to put this topic to bed once and for all.
“What does the diner have to do with anything?”
“Think it through.” She ticked off the logic on her fingers. “Let’s say the universe shifts and I lose my mind and decide I should try to fix things with Clay.” She tapped a second finger. “I go back to him.” Tapped a third finger. “Things work out peachy.” Because how else could they possibly work out? This was Clay. “We decide to get married.” Do not think of that. “Then what?”
“Then you live happily ever after.”
Tandy dropped her hands to the hay and squeezed the phone tighter between her shoulder and ear. “Where?”
“What do you mean, where?”
“I mean, where would we live?”
“Here.”
“In Stars Hill?”
“Why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I have a life and career in Orlando? Because I’ve worked hard to establish that life? Because living eleven hours from my husband might not make for the best marriage?”
“Why couldn’t you just move here?”
“Why would I move here?”
“I thought you two were married.”
“Kendra!”
“You said it! Not me. Why wouldn’t you move back to Stars Hill if the man you loved and were married to lived here?”
Tandy picked a piece of hay from beside her knee and began breaking it in little pieces. It didn’t matter if she gave Kendra a million reasons. Her sister would never understand the dream she and Momma shared. She wouldn’t get that Tandy couldn’t make a name for herself in tiny little Stars Hill. Even if, by some miracle, things were to start up again with Clay Kelner, it could never be a forever thing. Because her forever was in Orlando and his, as far as she could tell, was right here.
“Tandy?”
“Yeah, Kendra, I’m here.” Her voice sounded old and tired, and she knew
it.
“Look, ignore me. You know I like to debate just for the sake of debate. Keeps things lively.”
“I know, I know.”
“Forget what I said about Clay. He’s history.”
“History, huh? What happened to him being right for me?”
“What do I know, right? I’m a thirty-three-year-old single black woman who sculpts and ignores a writing deadline with no words to deliver to my editor. I’d say I’m the last person you should listen to for advice.”
Tandy chuckled. “Good point. So I’ll see you in a bit to scrap?”
“Better believe it.”
“Okay, then.”
“Hey, Tandy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I made you sad. And you know I’m happy you’re home.”
“I know. Thanks. See ya in a little while.”
“See ya.”
Tandy flipped the phone closed and fell back into the hay. The image of Clay as he’d looked today floated into her mind, and for just a minute she allowed herself the luxury of enjoying the picture. Why was he back in Stars Hill, and why, of all things, did he own a diner? They’d never talked about him wanting to own a diner, and they’d talked about everything.
At least she thought they had.
He was her best friend, her rock when all else seemed to be shifting. The image in her mind morphed into a younger Clay. Her mind filled with the sight of him in a black suit, green tie slightly askew, and curls running rampant over his forehead. Daddy and the sisters sat in the front row at the funeral home, and she’d pulled him to the chair beside her without hesitation. No way could she get through this day without his strong hand anchoring her to earth. If he let go, she’d just float away to the clouds to find Momma.
His hand carried her through the graveside service, too. Tugging her up out of her seat when it was time to stand and back down when it was time to sit. Her ears closed up, refusing the words of good-bye that the minister spoke over Momma’s casket. All she knew was the feel of Clay’s warm hand in her icy one and the sure fact that, if she never heard another sound on earth, she’d always have his hand.
A mouse skittered across the loft, startling Tandy out of her reverie. She shook her head to dispel the images of years past. No use thinking about them now. Momma was gone and, shortly thereafter, her surety that Clay Kelner—and, by extension, any new man she ever encountered—could be trusted. He wasn’t supposed to leave her.
But he had.
It didn’t matter that she’d left first. She only went because the sight of him leaving her behind wasn’t allowed. And he was going to leave her behind. She knew it. And so did he. Their fate had been decided the day the military recruiter came to Stars Hill High and told the senior class they were looking for a few good men. Clay was a good man. Well, good for them. Not so much for her.
She crawled back across the loft and swung a leg over the ladder. No more thinking about Clay Kelner. No point in it. Life in Orlando was good—and would be great again as soon as this little hiatus was over and she was back in her office jumping at hawks, both winged and suited.
She rolled to her side in the hay and snuggled in for a nap, which she wouldn’t need if she hadn’t spent half of last night dreaming of Clay Kelner.
See? The man was nothing but difficulty.
Six
Tandy jumped from the last rung of the ladder to the ground.
“There you are.”
Tandy spun. “Daddy! You nearly scared me to death.”
“Last time I caught you coming down from there, you weren’t alone.” He tilted his head and squinted up at the hayloft. “Anybody else in here I should know about?”
Tandy felt the blush rise from her neck to her cheeks. “Of course not, Daddy. And even if there was, I’m a grown woman.”
“Not so grown you need to be rolling around in haylofts.”
“I don’t roll around in anything.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Why are we talking about this?”
“I think you opened the door, oh, about eleven years ago.”
“Tell me you’re not going to push the Clay-Kelneras-Perfect-Man-for-Tandy theory, too.”
Daddy stuffed his hand in a pocket. “I suppose that depends. Who else is pushing the theory?”
“Kendra.”
Daddy chuckled. “I don’t think I’ll bet against her.”
“Good thing she recanted her theory then.”
“Did she now?”
“She did.” Tandy walked toward the barn entrance, tucking a curl behind her ear and mentally vowing to have a Clayless remainder of the day. “And I’d appreciate it if you would, too. I’m not looking for a relationship, and even if I were, it wouldn’t be with Clay. We’re history.”
Daddy held up his hands as he walked beside her back toward the house. “Message received. Loud and clear.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “Really?”
“Yep. Feel free to stay single until I join your mother in heaven. Just take the wedding money out of your inheritance.”
“Very funny, Daddy. Don’t joke. I may take you up on that.”
“Somehow, I doubt it.”
They climbed the porch steps and went inside. “I think I’ll make some snack food before the sisters get here,” she said.
“Have at it. Cookbooks are where they always were, and I just went to the grocery yesterday. You should have everything you need.”
“You don’t want to help?”
“Oh, I think I’ll head upstairs and catch a few minutes of shut-eye. Get some rest before the grandkids get here.”
“Smart man.”
“I try.” Daddy turned and headed up the stairs. Tandy took a deep breath and entered Momma’s kitchen.
Momma could do two hobbies really well: cook and scrap. She’d said the two went together like biscuits and gravy because you always needed something to nibble on when you were scrapping.
Tandy opened the cupboard and pulled down Momma’s Proud as a Peacock cookbook. The cover, bearing the image of the aforementioned bird, was curling at the corners. Smudges of recipe ingredients were evident here and there. She flipped to the dessert section and saw Momma’s loopy notes in the margin of nearly every recipe.
“Good for about 2 hours,” one note said and Tandy chuckled. She’d need at least a four-hour recipe for tonight. If they were still scrapping after four hours, they’d just have to order pizza.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER five dozen peanut butter buckeyes lay on waxed paper, their chocolate coating drying, and Tandy grinned. Scrapping, sweets, and the sisters. It was going to be a good night.
“Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?” Meg’s voice rang through the house as little towheaded James came barreling into the kitchen.
“Mom! She’s in here. And there’s chocolate!”
Tandy scooped him up in a hug and twirled in a circle. “When did you get so big, little man?”
“Last year, in kindergarten.”
“Well, could you not get so big so fast, please?”
“Mom says I grow like a weed. But I’m not a weed. I’m just a James.”
“And a handsome James at that.”
“Daddy says I’m handsome, too.”
“He does, does he?”
James nodded, his chocolate-brown eyes serious. “Yes. I don’t lie. Because then I’d be like the Rumor Weed, and I’d rather be like Larry Boy!”
Tandy threw a questioning glance Meg’s way as her sister came into the kitchen. “Larry Boy?”
“VeggieTales. He’s addicted to them.”
“I just love VeggieTales! Vannah loves them, too. Except when the Frankencelery comes out. He’s kind of scary.” James giggled, and Tandy’s heart melted.
“Why is Frankencelery scary?”
“’Cause he’s just got these things coming out his head,” James reached up and made pulling motions above his hair. “That’s how they control him. And Van
nah thinks they’ll come put them in her head, too. I just love you.” He squirmed, and Tandy sat him down on the floor. Before she could blink, he grabbed a buckeye and scampered out of the kitchen.
“I just love you too, buddy!” she called to his retreating figure, then turned to her sister. “When did he start saying, ‘I love you’?”
“He said it one time when he got in trouble. I was so surprised and touched, I didn’t punish him. Now he thinks it will get him out of everything. I swear I hear, ‘I love you’ fifty times a day.”
Tandy laughed. “Hey, enjoy it while you’ve got it.”
“I just think I will.”
“What’s all the funny happening up in here?” Kendra said, coming into the kitchen.
“Tandy just had an encounter with the lovernator.” Meg popped a buckeye in her mouth.
“I’m telling you, you better stop that little man before he tells some first grader he just loves her.”
“Kendra, you’re nuts. And besides, we homeschool.”
“Mm-hmm, I’ll remind you of this conversation when he’s eighteen and married to some little girl he met at a homeschool event.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Tandy said. “She gives bad love advice.”
“You gave Tandy bad advice?”
Kendra stuck her nose in the air. “I only give good advice. I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
“Then it had to be about Clay.”
“And now we’re moving on.” Tandy started gathering buckeyes. “Help me put these in tins, girls.”
They pulled tins from cupboards and began loading the buckeyes in, one at a time.
“How many hours’ worth did you make?”
“Four.”
“We’re going to run out.”
“Then we’ll call for pizza.”
Meg and Kendra looked at her, then doubled over in laughter.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, girl, you’ve been gone too long.” Kendra wiped a tear from her eye.
“What do you mean? All I said was—” Tandy stopped and slapped her forehead, “—that we’d order a pizza in a town that doesn’t have pizza delivery.”