by Rebeca Seitz
“You do if you want the unembellished version.”
“Point taken. I did my homework. She’s okay.” His voice sounded sure.
“Why did you check out a woman my dad was spending time with?”
“Maybe I hoped the information would come in handy someday.”
“Like when I came for a visit and asked you to give me the dirt on her.”
“Like that.” There was that surety again.
She pushed up onto her elbows and looked over at him. “I don’t get you, Clay Kelner.”
He turned his head toward her and grinned. “About time you admitted that.”
Her groan gave the only warning before she punched him in the arm. “Why do you have to be so confusing?”
“Hey!” He grabbed her wrist before she could hit him again, holding it in place while keeping his fingers gentle on her skin. “I know your mom taught you not to hit people.”
“People, yes. But I think she’d make an exception for you.”
“Your mom liked me and you know it.”
“My mother did not like you. What world are you living in?”
“The one that says when your girlfriend’s mom tells you to take good care of her daughter, it means she trusts you to do just that.”
“Momma never said that to you.”
“Two months before she died.”
“That’d make a great Lifetime movie, but it never happened.” She tried to pull away from all this feeling, but his easy touch held her fast.
“Yes, it did. I came over to the house to see you, and you weren’t there. Your mom was sitting in that rocker on the porch, sipping lemonade. I told her it was too cold and she needed to get back inside, and she told me she didn’t need taking care of but that I should take good care of her daughter.”
Tears sprang to Tandy’s eyes and, before she could think to blink them away, tumbled down her cheeks. Momma had been trying to take care of her, even when it was obvious her time was coming to an end. But why tell Clay to take care of her? It didn’t make sense.
Except that Momma had no way of knowing that Clay would up and leave a few months later. The day Clay Kelner joined the service, he’d betrayed Momma just as surely as he’d betrayed Tandy. She jerked her wrist out of his grasp.
“I thought you were a jerk before. Thanks for confirming it.”
“What are you talking about?” He raised up on his own elbows and stared at her, eye to eye.
“You told Momma you’d take care of me. Does that include running off and leaving me in your dust? Because I can tell you, I didn’t feel taken care of.”
“I asked you to come with me.”
“You knew I couldn’t.”
“I knew you could do anything you wanted. And I thought you’d want to come with me.”
“No.” She shook her head and blinked through the tears, praying they would stop so she could get control again. “I told you Momma’s dreams, my dreams, Orlando. You knew that wouldn’t work with your soldier life and so you left me. You knew I couldn’t come with you, which is why you left.” Her voice broke on the last word and she gulped in air. “You’re just like her. It’s great to have Tandy around until her deadweight is holding you back.”
“Just like who?”
“Until you need to go running after some stupid idea that’s going to get you killed anyway. But you don’t care about that. All you care about is chasing down that thing in your head. Finding it and consuming it so you’ll feel good.”
He sat up all the way and leaned over her. “You lost me, babe. Who am I like?”
“Except that when you consume it, it’s not going to last. You’re just going to need more and more until one day you catch it and it kills you.” She was sobbing now, a voice in her mind telling her to stop and get some control even as another voice told that one to shut up, that it was about time some real emotion made its way to the surface. Maybe she was schizophrenic. Or tired. She turned on her side and curled up into a ball, hiding her face behind clenched fists. Who cared anyway?
Gentle hands wrapped over her fists, thumbs moving in circles. She felt it, and couldn’t believe she’d lost control in front of him. Lost it in a way she’d been proud not to have done before he left or since.
“Are you talking about your birth mom?” His gentle voice soothed her, stealing its way through the crevices of her darkness and burrowed down inside her mind. “Tandy, you have to know I didn’t want to leave you behind.”
She snorted.
“I didn’t. I begged you to come with me.”
“You knew—”
“I knew you would have to sacrifice, yes, but I thought that you would. I thought coming with me would mean more to you than going right to college and becoming a lawyer. I really did.”
She sneaked a look over her hands at his face. “Then you didn’t know me.”
“I did know you, but you changed when your momma died. I still don’t know why, but you did.” Sadness etched itself into the corners of his eyes, and his smile held no happiness. “I couldn’t get you to feel anything anymore. It’s like you just decided to die right along with her.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say!”
“And a horrible thing to watch.” He kept rubbing her hands. “I thought if we got away from Stars Hill for a while …” He sighed and kissed her knuckles. “I don’t know what I thought.”
“I wish we had gotten away. Just for a little while.” It was dumb. Putting herself out there like that.
His hands tightened on hers. “Me, too.”
The silence of past regrets weighed them down to the windshield. She thought of the family they might have by now. A little girl with her red curls and his green eyes. A little boy with his black hair and her stubborn spirit. Kiddos for Daddy to spoil and play with. A home near the farm that rang with laughter and love and shared dreams. She forced the images from her mind. She had her goals and he had his. They didn’t go together then. And they didn’t go together now.
She came to a sitting position on the hood, crossed her legs Indian-style and faced him. “We were kids, Clay. Babies at eighteen. Probably not a good idea to judge either of us on decisions we made then.”
He took one of her hands in his. “There’s nothing saying we can’t start over now, Tandy.”
Gravel crunched beneath the tires of a passing truck. Here lay the chance to be with the man who knew her. A man who called Stars Hill home. Her mind turned to those dark days, sitting by Momma’s side, planning her future as Momma grew paler and paler, thinner and thinner. Cancer was patient in its killing.
“Clay, I have a life in Orlando.”
“I know that. The whole town knows that. And I know that I can’t ask you to move here when we haven’t even seen each other in ten years. I guess I don’t know what to ask you for.”
The silence settled in again. Someone left the dance hall, music spilling out the door like tinkling glass. Kendra’s words echoed in her mind: There’s nothing saying you can’t enjoy him while you’re here. It was wrong, she knew. Relationships weren’t something to be cavalierly tossed aside like that.
But she’d be spending the next nine days in Stars Hill anyway. It could be nine days of new memories to keep her company on long Orlando nights. Nine days of fun with him. Nine days of conversation with him. Nine days. If she took lots of pictures, the scrapbooking alone would get her through the next year. Maybe then she could come home again, depending on her schedule at work. She’d have people in her pictures again.
Nine days.
She squeezed his hand. Like he’d done for her the night she’d told him about the first seven years of her life. It had been the first time she’d let the wall down around her heart. If ever she’d do it again, it’d be for him.
“We’ve got nine days, Clay. How about we just enjoy that?”
“Tandy Sinclair isn’t making a plan for the next ten years?” His teasing tone took the bite out of the commentary.
“Just for the next nine days.” She turned and looked at him. “Thought I’d try something new.”
He blew out a breath. “Nine days, then.”
The silence felt welcome now, an acknowledgment of what they had. And, for now, it would have to be okay.
“You know, if we count today, we have ten days.” His teasing tone made her smile.
“Tonight is almost gone.”
“You know what they say. Almost only counts in hand grenades and thermonuclear warfare.”
“You soldiers, always with the weaponry jokes.” She playfully pushed her shoulder into his.
“Yeah, well, we make them because they’re true. We’ve got—” he let go of her hand and pushed a button on his watch, and a green glow emanated from its face—“three hours and twenty-seven minutes before midnight and I, for one, don’t intend to waste them.” He slid off the hood, then reached for her hand. She gave it to him without thinking, and he pulled her across the metal as well. She dropped to the gravel, grabbing at his arm for balance.
“Hey, easy there, soldier.”
He turned and tugged her back across the parking lot. They weaved through the beat-up trucks back to the door of Heartland. “There’s good dancing to be had in there, and we’re not missing another minute of it.” He threw open the door, and the whine of a steel guitar washed over them. “Come on!”
Fourteen
The little brass bell tinkled out her arrival as Tandy burst through the salon door Saturday morning. They had three hours until scrapping time, and Tandy felt lighter than the chemical-laden air around her.
Four hours of sleep shouldn’t be enough to feel this good, but memories of Clay’s arms around her, twirling around the dance floor, made up for lack of sleep. It made up for lack of a whole lot, she could admit. Not everything. But a lot. Her heart felt new and stretched, like a muscle learning to move again.
“Believe it or not, I’m walking on air,” Meg sang from her position in the chair in front of Joy. She cut her eyes at Tandy in the mirror, a black cape draped around her shoulders. Joy was combing and snipping the pale blonde locks.
“Sing all you want, sister, I don’t care.” Tandy twirled in a circle, collapsing in the chair to Meg’s right.
“One night of dancing and the world is her oyster,” Joy said.
“I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more,” Meg sang.
“She goes from Joey Scarbury to My Fair Lady in three seconds flat,” Tandy slid down in the seat. “There’s got to be a way to make money off of that.”
“Or get her committed.” Joy snipped some more. Tandy pulled out her small digital camera and, before Meg could realize it, snapped off a picture.
“Hey!”
Tandy shrugged, slipping the camera back into her pocket. “I need pictures to scrapbook.”
“Yeah, I noticed a distinct lack of humans in your latest work in progress,” Meg watched Joy in the mirror.
Tandy winced. “I know. What better moment to supply people pictures than my two dear sisters engaged in the art of beauty?”
“Man, she’s laying it on thick today,” Joy said.
“She must want something big,” Meg nodded.
“Stop moving your head.” Joy combed the thick locks straight again.
“I don’t want anything from either of you. Can’t a girl just be happy?”
Meg threw up her hands, careful to keep her head still. “Fine by us.”
“Did you come by, then, just to show off your happy self?”
“Yep.”
“You’re kidding.” Meg strained her eyes up to the mirror to see Tandy.
“Nope. Well, that and I could use a trim.”
“I knew it,” Joy said. “And I’ve got roasted coq au vin poulard in the oven.”
“You’ve got what?”
“It’s a dish Scott and I had down at the Ritz-Carlton in Naples. They served these wonderful young spring vegetables and pan au jus with it. It was to die for.”
“If you say so.” Tandy scrunched her nose. “I’m not sure I can pronounce that, much less try to cook it. What’s the occasion?”
“No special reason. I just thought Scott would appreciate a nice dinner after a long week of work.”
“Mm-hmm. When are you guys going to give me a niece or nephew? Meg here can’t carry all the load.”
“Actually, we’ve decided to start trying.” Joy’s cheeks turned pink.
“What?! That’s great!”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to have my body all stretched out and waddle around like a walrus, but we do want to have children, so I suppose I must resign myself to the process.”
“Trust me, baby sis, it’s worth every single stretch mark.” Meg smiled. “And I’ll remind you of that when your little one is screaming his or her head off because you’ve just run out of Cheerios.”
Joy took in a deep breath, then nodded.
“And, hey—” Tandy kicked the counter and threw her head back as the chair swung in circles again—“maybe if you become a mom, we’ll quit calling you the baby around here.”
“A woman can hope.” Joy pulled a hair dryer from its holder. She switched it on, drowning out further conversation. Ten minutes later she switched off the dryer and unclasped the cape. Meg stood up and turned her head from side to side, appraising the new cut.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime. Tandy, your turn.”
“Never mind.” Tandy continued twirling in circles. “I’ll just get it done next week sometime.”
“If you need a trim, then you need a trim. My dish can wait a little longer without going dry.”
Tandy shook her head. “No way am I getting between you and the creation of my next niece or nephew. Besides, I need to run over to the grocery and get back home before we scrap.”
“If you’re sure.” Joy didn’t look convinced, but her raised eyebrows signaled hope.
Tandy hopped up from her chair. “Positive. Oh, before I forget, did you call Taylor?”
“I did. He’s out of town until after the parade. I’m sorry.”
“Oh well. I’ll figure out something else.” She stood up. “See you girls in a few hours!” She wiggled her fingers over her shoulder in good-bye, heading out the door toward the small market on Lindell.
The sun baked its heat into her T-shirt as Tandy crossed the street. Stars Hill and sunshine. A glorious night dancing in the arms of a man her heart knew. Tandy couldn’t wipe the grin off her face no matter how many times she tried.
And why try?
She stopped short, standing on the sidewalk in front of the library. Why? Because something inside was reminding her that this much happiness was dangerous. She bit her lip, trying to put a finger on the cause of disquiet.
Because it always ends. Her birth mother’s words, spoken through the slur of cheap scotch, were a torrent of rain on this sunny day. As much as Tandy wanted her mother to be wrong, life had proven the truth in those words.
But life also showed that sometimes it could work out, right? Momma and Daddy were proof of that. Okay, not a great example because that ended, too. Meg and Jamison! It worked out great for them. Meg might be exhausted a lot these days, but she was also happy. And Joy and Scott! They were going to be even happier in a few months when Joy announced the conception of their first little one.
Satisfied, Tandy began walking again. When the thought of returning to Orlando threatened the sunshine, she pushed it in the same direction as her mother’s rain cloud.
* * *
TWO AND A half hours later, Tandy and Kendra were in the kitchen putting together sandwiches for the adults and mini-pizzas for the kids. Cooper sat by the counter, intent on every piece of food, waiting for any morsel to drop.
“You are shameless,” Kendra said to the dog.
“He’s just smart,” Tandy shot Cooper a loving look. “He knows if I’m in the kitchen, it’ll likely end up as messy as Paris Hilton’s rap sheet.”<
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“So it’s not begging so much as waiting for the inevitable?”
“Exactly.” Tandy dropped a pepperoni, and Cooper snatched it up with his teeth. “See?”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Cynic.”
“Food dropper.”
“What time is it?”
Kendra looked at the lime-green watch on her wrist. Yesterday’s watch was red. Tandy smiled at the color of Kendra’s life.
“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before Joy, Meg, and the kids get here.”
“Okay, then let’s pop these bad boys in the oven.” She slid a cookie sheet full of mini-pizzas into the hot oven, then turned the timer to twelve minutes. “How are those sandwiches coming?”
“Almost done.” Kendra slapped a piece of bread on top of the sandwich in front of her. “There. Finished.”
“Perfect. Now we can get to scrapping as soon as they get here.” She glanced out the window and saw Meg’s van pulling down the driveway. “Speaking of which …” She gestured outside, and Kendra’s eyes followed her hand.
A minute later James and Savannah came through the front door. “Aunt Tanny, Aunt Tanny!” Savannah came screaming into the kitchen and barreled right into Tandy’s legs. Tandy saw a streak of blonde hair as James went running down the hallway. She heard him calling out, “Granddaddy! I’m here!”
“Well, hey there, sunshine.” Tandy scooped Savannah up for a hug. “You hungry?”
Savannah nodded her head, causing her short little blonde pigtails to bounce. Pink ribbons were tied around each one. “You sure are looking pretty today.”
“I did ’nastics.”
“You went to gymnastics?”
“Yep. And we rolled.” She wiggled, and Tandy put her back down on the floor. Immediately the little girl began doing somersaults.
“Wow, look at you!” Kendra clapped.
“Look out, Olympic committee, here comes Savannah!” Tandy clapped, too. Savannah finished her flip, jumped up, and joined in the applause.
“Yea!” she said.
Meg came into the kitchen, a sleeping Hannah in her arms. “Hey.”