by Rebeca Seitz
They arrived at the diner and sat down on a bench. It was a short wait. Three minutes later Darin and Clay came up the sidewalk. Kendra went to meet them. Tandy couldn’t move. She saw Darin and Kendra walk off together and watched Clay approach her. Blood rushed through her ears, and she wondered if she might faint. If her brain would just refuse to have this much emotion coursing through it and shut her down.
He sat down beside her, folding his hands in his lap and crossing his ankles.
People milled along Lindell in front of them. Some vendors had begun packing it in, putting unsold items into crates and tubs. Tandy watched it all with a detached air. She couldn’t let herself be present right now. It would hurt too much.
“I’m not going to pretend to understand, Tandy. But if you want to tell me, I’ll try.”
She heard that, knew he was as good as his word. Knew, too, that no matter what words she chose, he would not— could not—understand. He had never owed anyone anything in his life. Hadn’t ever been rescued from a desperate situation or had someone sacrifice for him. Just like he was the only one who knew her hurt when Momma died, only someone who had been given a gift like hers could understand this need to give back.
She touched his hand and he looked at her. “Can we have tonight? Let me see you play with your band, enjoy the music and the dancing, and leave it there?”
The muscles in his jaw worked, and she understood his struggle. If he could know her heart, she’d share it in a beat. But he couldn’t.
“We can try.” He turned his hand so he could grasp hers. Turning back to the view of Lindell, she leaned sideways into him, soaking up his warmth, her hand clasped in his.
They sat there for an hour. Twice he started to speak but never did. As the sun moved across the sky, it seemed to ridicule her, shifting the shadows, choosing whose way to light and whose to leave darkened.
When the last of the vendors had carted his goods off the street, she stared at the empty road. A few stragglers were still walking about, waiting for the promised music in an hour. Clay watched his bandmates set their gear up on the stage. She wondered if he would go to them, but he didn’t move.
Just sat with her.
Breathing.
Feeling.
Being.
Finally, Kendra came over. She didn’t speak, and Tandy was grateful for that. Mourning didn’t leave much room for words. She held out her hand, the sun kissing its caramel color, and Tandy took it. Let herself be pulled up from the bench.
Clay squeezed her other hand, and she turned to him. He gave her a crooked smile and stood. Kissed her hand and let it go.
She stood with Kendra, watching him walk down the street to the stage. Saw Darin clap him on the shoulder and hug him. Saw how he needed that. The chairs in front of the stage were filling up now, called by the sound of the occasional mike check. Meg’s blonde hair shone, and Tandy watched her look around, no doubt searching for her sisters.
She held Kendra’s hand and went to join Meg.
“Hey, sis,” Meg said when they arrived. “You doing okay?” She hugged Tandy.
“Yeah. I just hate to leave all of you.”
“We hate to see you go.”
Tandy and Kendra sat down in the folding chairs. “Have either of you seen Joy?”
The return to conversation brought a sense of normalcy back to the day. “No,” Tandy answered. “You’re sure she’s coming?”
Meg nodded. “I called her before I left the house. Oh! There she is.” She waved her hand until Joy noticed and came toward them. “I thought the sisterhood might be a good idea tonight.”
“Where are Jamison and the kids?”
“At Jamison’s parents’ house. If they all have a meltdown, his mom can pick up the pieces.”
Joy sat down on the other side of Kendra. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing yet,” Kendra said.
“Tandy, how are you?” Joy’s concern filled her words. “You holding up?”
“I assume Kendra clued you both in?”
They nodded.
Meg shifted in her seat to face Tandy. “Is there anything we can do to make this easier?”
“No, it’s enough to know you guys get why I have to go back.”
“I just wish we could figure out something for you here,” Joy said. “We could start a catering business if you want.”
“Thanks, Joy, but you know me in a kitchen. I’m a danger to everyone within a five-block radius.”
“Remember that time you tried to make quiche?” Meg shook her head and looked at the sky. “And you set off the fire alarm and there was smoke everywhere.”
“And Momma came running in with a fire extinguisher.” Tandy stared into the distance, the memory a vivid image.
“And Daddy saw the smoke from the barn and nearly had a heart attack,” Joy joined in.
They laughed, remembering Tandy’s attempt at cooking. “Yeah, maybe a catering business is a bad idea,” Kendra said through her laughter.
A chord sounded through the speakers, and Tandy looked at the stage. Clay was looking at her, and the ache in his eyes was so real she couldn’t breathe. She turned away, another part of her breaking inside.
“We want to thank all of you for coming out tonight.” As Darin spoke, the girls sat back. “We’re happy to take your requests if you’ve got them, and if you need an invitation to dance, this is it. There’s a space right up here—” he pointed to a grassy area directly in front of the stage—“or at the back. This first number was chosen by a clever lady I recently met.” He flashed a grin at Kendra. “We hope you enjoy it.” He stepped back and strummed a chord on a shiny black guitar that hung at his hips. The other guys took their cue, and the opening notes of “Stormy Weather” sounded.
Tandy watched some couples rise from their seats and make their way to the dance area. Her heart longed to be with them, safe in Clay’s arms, but her head kept her feet planted on the grass in front of her. His voice mesmerized as he crooned into the microphone. She hadn’t known he could sing like this, but it didn’t surprise her.
Song after song, minute by minute, darkness descended on them. The stars came out and they played. The crickets chirped in the park and they played. The new street lamps came on and they played.
Her heart broke and they played.
Meg’s arm came around her back. Kendra held her hand. Joy held Kendra’s. They lifted her up, kept her from drowning in the tears she held inside. Anchored her to the reality of being a Sinclair sister. Her eyes stayed on him, drinking him in, capturing his voice and hording it away like the food she’d found as a child. He didn’t look at her often, and she understood that. But when he did, Kendra’s hand tightened on hers. Meg’s arm squeezed her shoulders. They held her together while everything in front of her fell apart.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Tandy stuffed another pair of shorts into her suitcase and zipped it up. She’d leave as soon as the parade was over. No need to come back this way, to prolong the good-byes. She’d thought about leaving last night but knew that she couldn’t disappoint James and Savannah that way. They were expecting her to help them snatch up candy as it rained from the floats.
“How’s it coming in here?” Daddy stood in the doorway.
“Just finished up.”
“Here, let me take that.” He lifted her suitcase from the bed, and Cooper looked up.
“Don’t worry, buddy, I’m not leaving you,” she said, and the dog laid his head back down.
“I think that dog speaks English.” Daddy huffed a bit as they went down the stairs.
“I’ve wondered that myself.”
“Yesterday, I told him to get off the couch, so he jumped down and then got in your mother’s chair.”
Tandy laughed. “Well, you didn’t say stay off the furniture.”
“That’s what I thought. I didn’t have the heart to make him get down again, it took so much effort for him to get up there.”
T
hey went outside, and she opened her car trunk. He sat her suitcase inside, and they walked back toward the house. “Is your cell phone charged?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“When’s the last time you had the oil checked in that thing?”
“It’s fine, Daddy.”
“How old are those tires?”
“Daddy, the car will make it to Orlando.” She smiled, loving his protection of her.
“We’ll see. One of these days you’ll get something made in America, like my Dodge.”
“Daddy, half the parts in your truck probably came from Japan.”
“And all of yours came from Germany.”
She rolled her eyes at him, pushing down the part of her that knew she’d miss this banter in a few short hours. “Whatever, Daddy. Are you coming to the parade?”
“I’ll meet you down there.” He patted her shoulder.
“Picking up Zelda?”
“Maybe.”
She shook her head and climbed the stairs to get Cooper. “We’ll save you a seat. Don’t be late!”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her and went to his bedroom.
“Come on, Cooper. Time to hit the road.” The dog jumped down from his chair and waddled over to her. “You are the cutest dog in the universe.” She knelt down and scratched his big, floppy ears. “And pretty soon, it’s just you and me again. Let’s go.”
He followed her out to the car, and she turned for a last look. How long would it be before she came back? Tears welled up and she swallowed hard. The thought was too much. She got into the car and drove down the gravel driveway, glancing no less than three times in the rearview mirror.
Twenty-Five
People packed the downtown area like bees in a honeycomb. Wedging the Beamer into a space better suited for a motorcycle, she avoided the end of Lindell where his diner sat and walked instead to the end by the park. Meg stood, waving her hand to get Tandy’s attention. Tandy waved back and pulled Cooper in that direction.
“Aunt Tanny!” Savannah shrieked and launched herself at Tandy’s legs.
Tandy scooped the girl up, tossing the leash to Jamison.
“Savannah!” She threw the little girl into the air and caught her. “You’re getting so big! Pretty soon, I won’t be able to hold you.” Savannah giggled and touched Tandy’s earrings. “Are you ready to score some candy?”
“Mm-hmm. Not too much.” She waved a short finger back and forth in front of Tandy’s face.
“Did Mommy say you couldn’t have too much?”
Savannah nodded, her eyes serious. “Makes us sick.”
“You must have one smart Mommy.” Tandy winked at Meg. “Maybe we can get her to put some of your candy up for later.”
Savannah looked to Meg for approval. “I think we could do that.” At their mother’s words, James and Savannah squealed.
Joy held Hannah, bouncing her on one knee while Hannah clapped in pleasure. Scott made googly faces at her.
“Do you think it might be a little loud for her?” Tandy nodded toward Hannah.
“I’m not sure. If it is, I’ll just put my hands over her ears. The only things I’m worried about are the fire trucks and police cars.”
Tandy put Savannah down. “Where’s Kendra?”
“On her way. She overslept.”
The wail of a police siren sounded, and Savannah’s eyes grew wide. Tandy sat down on the pavement and pulled the little girl into her lap. “It’s okay. That’s the policeman. He starts the parade.”
Savannah clapped while James jumped up and down. Kendra came running through the park just as the police car rounded the bend. “Sorry! Sorry! Got here as fast as I could. Where’s Daddy?”
“Picking up Zelda.”
Joy looked at Tandy. “Are we okay with that?”
“I think so. For now, anyway. She’s good people.” Tandy saw them coming down the sidewalk and waved. Zelda waved back. “She keeps him company.”
The sisters watched Daddy and Zelda approach. The smile on Daddy’s face was unmistakable. Meg’s gaze softened into acceptance. “Yeah, she can stay for now.”
“But pretty soon she’s going to have to let me do something about that hair.” Joy peered at Zelda’s short red spikes and shuddered.
“Aunt Tanny! Canny!” Savannah said. This year’s Hostess Princess and her court sat on a float covered in irises of all colors. The younger court members were throwing candy to the crowd. “Let’s get it!” She held James’s hand on one side and Savannah’s on the other as they rushed into the street to snatch up the candy.
Float after float passed by, and the kids’ stashes got bigger and bigger.
“They’re never going to eat all this,” Meg said.
“Sure they are.” Tandy dashed into the street again, James and Savannah hot on her heels. “Just give them half of it and send them to their grandmother’s.”
“Oh, I’m sure my mom would love that,” Jamison said.
All too soon, the parade was over.
“More canny?”
“No, sweetheart, we got it all,” Tandy hugged Savannah, then James.
“You heading out?” Meg asked and Tandy nodded.
“Be careful.”
“Buckle up,” Joy said.
“And stay safe.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it, sisters.” They came together in a group hug that had Tandy near tears again. “Love you.”
“Love you back,” they chorused and she turned to leave.
“Call often,” Daddy said, handing her Cooper’s leash.
“You’ve got it,” she whispered, hugging him.
“Bye, y’all.” She waved and headed off to the car, Cooper trotting along beside her. He woofed and they turned the corner.
“Just you and me again, Coop. Ready for a road trip?”
Cooper woofed and climbed into the car, settling himself in the backseat.
She was on the highway in less than ten minutes, speeding toward Orlando.
Twenty-Six
The reporters will be here in thirty minutes.” Anna laid a stack of papers on Tandy’s desk. “They’ve been calling all day, but I told them we had no comment until the press conference. How’d it go with Levi?”
Tandy rubbed her temples and sat back from the computer. Her deep-purple suit felt constricting, and she’d long ago kicked her heels off under the desk. A pair of boots would feel like heaven right about now. “I’m not sure. I can’t tell if he’s innocent or scared.”
“Maybe both?”
Tandy nodded. “Is he still upstairs?”
“Yes. He and Mr. Beasley had lunch delivered. The way they’re laughing, you’d think they just finished a round of good golf.”
Tandy popped the top off a bottle of aspirin and poured three in her hand. “They’re up there having a good time while I’m down here trying to figure out a way to get his rear end out of the sling he put it in. Tell me again why I do this.”
“I have no idea.” Anna left the office.
The echo of Tandy’s words bounced off the walls. The past two days hadn’t given her much time to think about Stars Hill, but she had anyway. Cooper, tuned to her like a winnowing fork to water, whined more than usual. She’d coached Levi on his statement for two hours this morning. He was ready for just about any question the media threw at him. All they had to do now was keep him behind closed doors until the press conference.
Tandy walked across the office and hit the PLAY button on her CD player. Sinatra crooned, “I did it my way …” So much had changed since she listened to this CD two weeks ago. Had someone asked her then if she did things her way, she’d have said yes in a heartbeat. But the fact that she sat in this chair behind her desk in Orlando served as proof that she didn’t always do things her way. If she did, she’d have found a path that kept her in Stars Hill.
Her phone buzzed and she hit the flashing button. “Yes.”
“Producer from Hannity & Colmes is on the line. Will you take the call?”
“Sure.” She picked up the receiver and waited for the connection. “Hey, Sebastian.”
“Tandy Sinclair. In the middle of a mess, it looks like.”
“No bigger than yours back in law school.”
“I did not cheat on that test.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. But that’s more than your boy Levi can say, I hear.”
“He didn’t steal money, Sebastian. Why would he?”
“Greed, Tandy. It’s a big motivator.”
“So is self-preservation, and stealing that money certainly didn’t contribute to the preservation of his career. Come on, give the guy some credit. He’s not dumb enough to commit this kind of political suicide.”
“Then why’s he ducking the cameras?”
“Because his attorney told him to and he’s smart enough to listen to her. Will I see you at the press conference?”
“I’d rather see him in a studio with an exclusive.”
“Hmm, we’ll see how you treat him at the five and six news hours. Call me then, and we’ll try to set something up.”
“Unless I get the governor’s commitment before then.”
“If you get the governor to speak ill of his own lieutenant governor on air, thereby implicating himself legally and killing any chances of reelection, then more power to you. ’Bye, Sebastian.”
She hung up and massaged her temples again. The throbbing increased. Levi wasn’t her only iron in the fire. Most of her cases were coming up for trial within a few weeks. And she was two weeks behind. Miranda, the attorney who’d taken over her cases while she was gone, should have filed continuances but hadn’t gotten around to it.
A hawk flew into her window, and Tandy jumped. “Dumb bird.”
Her phone rang, and she let it go to voice mail. Rain clouds were gathering on the horizon, and she longed for Cooper and a long nap on the couch. Instead, the fight of the press conference lay before her.
Her intercom sounded. “Tandy, Mr. Beasley and Levi have some questions for you.”
“Be right up, Anna.” She grabbed a legal pad and left the office. Riding up in the plush elevator, Tandy wondered what they could want. Levi was probably panicking again. How had the man made it this far in politics with such a fear of cameras?