“What time?”
“Nine.”
“That’s fine. I should be able to come a little earlier than I’d planned in the morning.”
Taryn suddenly laughed at something on the screen and her laugh sounded exactly as Evie remembered—full and rich and brimming with life.
When Evie turned back to Brodie, she found him watching his daughter with a look of stark emotion.
“I’ve missed that laugh. Stupid, isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” she murmured.
His fingers drummed on the countertop. “The last few years have been rough. Teen growing pains. We fought all the time, you know? It seems like I wasted so much time with her before the accident being frustrated and impatient about dumb little things and my own unreasonable expectations that I rarely took a chance just to listen to her and remember to savor these moments.”
The orange scent of the disinfecting wipe grew stronger as she clenched her fingers more tightly around it to keep from touching his arm. “Here’s your chance. Maybe you ought to go numb your brain for a few minutes and watch with her.”
He made a face. “Ugh. Bonding over Jersey Shore. Just shoot me now.”
She laughed, entirely too drawn to the blasted man. His glance flickered to her mouth and Evie caught her breath as heat sizzled and tugged between them. The sounds of the silly television show faded away and she forgot Taryn was even in the same room, mesmerized by those blue eyes.
Evie was painfully aware of him, of the low, fluttery curl in her belly and the insane urge to step forward, dig her fingers into the cotton of his shirt and tug him toward her.
Whoa. Slow down, she told her errant hormones. Stupid idea, letting him stir her up like this with just a casual look. Okay, he might not be the arrogant jerk she had taken him for since she’d arrived in Hope’s Crossing, but that didn’t mean she needed to go all soft and gooey over him.
He was still not her type. That hadn’t changed simply because she was discovering these different facets of the man. He might be a good parent. But he was also motivated by the almighty dollar, just as her own father had been.
He was the first one to blink in the sensual game of chicken they were apparently playing. He jerked his gaze away and looked down at his watch. “I only have fifteen minutes to spare. I’ve got a conference call I can’t miss.”
“That should give you just enough time to watch the ending,” she said.
“Lucky me,” he muttered and headed over to his daughter’s side. He pulled one of the chairs over from the table-and-chair set he had, indeed, carted into the room for their use, and set it beside the wheelchair.
Evie wasn’t about to let herself be dragged into the show and she decided this would be the perfect time for her to catch up on paperwork. She had been trying to take copious treatment notes about each day for her successor. After breaking out her laptop, she sat at the table and tried to focus on recording their activities of the day, from their frustrating time in the pool that morning when Taryn had refused to use the kickboard, to the equally frustrating work at the table, where Taryn refused to practice using silverware.
The litany of her defeats left a sour taste in her mouth. She didn’t remember ever feeling like such a failure during the time she was actively practicing P.T. Maybe she needed to throw in the towel and let Brodie find someone else who might be better at reaching the girl. Heaven knew, she certainly didn’t seem to be up to the job.
“It’s over.” Taryn’s petulant words interrupted Evie’s self-flagellation.
“Darn. Just when it was getting good,” Brodie said drily.
“You’ll just have to watch again next week with Taryn so you can keep track of what’s happening,” Evie teased.
He gave her dark look. “Isn’t there a good PBS special or something we could watch instead?”
“Boring,” Taryn declared.
Brodie shook his head but leaned over to kiss the top of her elfin curls. “Remind me to do something about your pitiful taste in entertainment, kiddo. But not right now. I’ve got to take a conference call. Give Evie your best effort, okay? Remember that ski trip to Chamonix we’ve been talking about? You’ve got a fair bit of work ahead of you if we’re finally going to make it this winter.”
Taryn’s smile faded and she looked down at her legs. “I…can’t…ski.”
“Keep at it, sweetheart,” Brodie said firmly. “You can do anything you set your mind to. And Evie is here to help you.”
He waved to them both and headed out of the room. Evie watched him go for about thirty seconds longer than she should have before she forced her attention back to Taryn.
Yeah. Stupid idea, entertaining those crazy thoughts about him for even a minute. In her experience, letting herself go soft and gooey usually only led to one big, sticky mess.
* * *
TARYN LAY ON THE STUPID PADDED table, hating her life. This dumb room, her weak legs, that big mirror that showed how ugly she was now.
And Evie. Especially Evie.
Evie was pretty, with blue eyes and that long blond hair, like some kind of angel.
A bitchy angel.
“Come on. Four more. You can do this.”
“I…don’t like…leg lifts.” The words sounded stupid, too. They were mushy, like eating peanut butter, and she hated that she had to work so hard to squeeze the right ones out when they were right there in her head. It was easier not to say much of anything. “Leg lifts… hurt.”
“We’re almost done. Hang in there.”
“I want…to rest now.”
“In a minute. Four more.”
No. She wanted to be done. To watch more TV and be quiet and forget her stupid life.
“Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt.”
Mrs. O. peeked her head into the room. Taryn lowered her leg. Interrupt. Please. Go ahead.
“No worries.” Evie smiled. “What can we do for you?”
“A young lady is here to visit Taryn. One of her friends. I didn’t know if she might be up to visitors.”
Taryn looked in the mirror she hated. She was gross. Short hair now, scars on her cheek. Worst of all, Evie made her put on her own makeup earlier and she couldn’t do it and now she looked like a clown.
“You look beautiful,” Evie had said when Taryn had tried to take it right off. “It will get easier. Believe it or not, this is good practice and will help you regain your fine-motor skills.”
She didn’t want to do that. She just wanted everyone to leave her alone.
“What do you say, Taryn?” she asked. “Are you in the mood for a visitor? It’s really up to you.”
It was better than therapy. Evie could talk for her. “Wash…this…off first,” she mumbled, with a gesture to her face with the hand that still worked okay.
Evie rolled her eyes. “You look perfectly fine, but whatever.” To Mrs. O., she said, “Give us five minutes, will you, so we can primp a bit.”
Mrs. O. smiled. “Of course. I can chat with her out in the foyer for a few minutes.”
Evie helped her stand to transfer to the chair and then wiped off the ugly makeup. “Want me to put more makeup on?”
“Eye…shadow,” she muttered in her stupid mushy voice.
Who was here? she wondered. Probably Brittni or Lyndsey. School was starting soon. Maybe they had new cheerleader uniforms to show.
Evie put on Taryn’s makeup and it looked okay. Better than what she’d done before.
“Are you ready?” Evie asked.
“Yeah.”
Evie opened the door to let Mrs. O. know she could let the visitor in. Not Brittni or Lyndsey, she saw, surprised. Hannah Kirk. Her old best friend. She looked big and kind of sweaty.
“Hannah. Hi!” Evie smiled, happy to see Hannah.
“Hi, Ms. Blanchard. I didn’t know you would be here.”
“I’m helping Taryn for a few days while she settles in at home.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“I’
m glad to do it,” Evie said. “It’s been fun.”
Lie, Taryn thought. She wasn’t glad and it wasn’t fun. Evie didn’t want to be there at all, Taryn could tell.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been at String Fever to help you with your mother’s earrings,” Evie said. “I’m afraid I’ve been a little distracted the last few days.”
“No problem. I haven’t had time anyway. I’ve been working pretty long hours at the Snow Chalet. That reminds me,” she said suddenly, pulling her hand out from behind her back. “I brought Taryn a blue raspberry. That’s the kind her dad ordered for her the other day. I thought she might like another one. It’s so hot!”
“That’s really thoughtful of you,” Evie said, smiling.
Taryn stared at it, wishing she could think of something to say.
“It melted a little while I was riding my bike up the hill but I put it in an insulated coffee go-cup I brought from home. It should be okay.”
“Aren’t you clever? Taryn, look what Hannah brought you? Isn’t that nice?”
She looked at Hannah. At the cup. At her hands. She couldn’t hold it, drink it, without help. Like a baby.
“That is the perfect thing on a hot August afternoon. Here, honey, would you like some?”
She frowned. “No.”
Evie blinked. “No?”
“I don’t want it.”
Hannah turned pink, like watermelon ice. Taryn felt bad but her words were slippery. She looked at Evie, pleading.
“Later.”
“You’re probably full from lunch, right? We can put it in the freezer and then see if you’re more in the mood in an hour or so.”
“Good. Yeah.”
“I’m just going to put this in one of the cups from the kitchen and rinse yours out so you can take it home. Will that work?” Evie asked Hannah.
“That would be good. My mom takes that one to work at the grocery store. She might be mad if she can’t find it.”
“Why don’t you two have a visit for a minute and I’ll run to the kitchen to take care of this?” Evie said.
Taryn wanted to yell at her, tell her to stay so someone would talk to Hannah but Evie left too soon.
Hannah looked down at her legs. They were chubby but tan. At least her brain could make them work. Finally she looked up. “Your dad said it was okay if I came to visit you, but you don’t really want much company, do you?”
No. Go away. She shrugged.
“I know we haven’t really been friends since about sixth grade. I understand. You’re smart and pretty and popular and all that stuff. I’m, well, not. But even though we haven’t been best friends in a long time, I’m superglad you didn’t die in the accident. Everyone is.”
She wasn’t. She should have died.
Taryn frowned. Lots of words crowded her throat but she couldn’t say them. Hannah was still pink. She looked at the door but Evie didn’t come in.
“This is a really nice room,” she said after a minute. “I love the view. You can see all of Hope’s Crossing from here.”
Taryn didn’t pay it much attention most of the time, except at night when she saw the lights.
“I’ve never been up here to your house before. It’s a lot bigger than the house you lived in by us on Glacier Lily Drive, isn’t it? It’s nice.”
Taryn remembered her old house. Her little bedroom, the swing set in the backyard, Hannah just across the street. They’d played Barbies and listened to music all summer long.
Fun. Hannah was always fun.
“Do you remember how you used to stay over at our house and we would dress up in my mom’s clothes and make up dance routines to old songs? And we were going to have our own band, remember? You were going to be the lead singer and I was going to play the drums. We called ourselves the Danger Girls and we even painted a sign to put on the bass drum of the set I planned to learn how to play. I found it the other day in the back of my closet. I should bring it over sometime for you to see. It was really terrible.”
Taryn laughed out loud, even though her heart hurt a little. She missed that time when she could dance and sing and be silly. She missed it so much.
Hannah laughed with her but then her smile died. “I guess you probably heard my dad moved out earlier in the summer. He’s living in Steamboat Springs now.”
“Sorry.” She wanted to say more but the words weren’t there.
“I know. It sucks.” Hannah’s chubby chin quivered a bit and Taryn wished she could help. “I’m doing okay but it’s been hard on my brothers. My little brother Jake—remember what a cute baby he was and how we used to push him up and down the street in his stroller so my mom could have a rest—he’s six now and he cries a lot more than he used to. It really gets on everyone’s nerves. Caleb is even more of a pill than ever. He’s nine. Daniel thinks he’s too cool to be upset but he’s grouchy all the time.”
Even though she was talking about sad stuff, Taryn thought it was nice to have Hannah here.
“My mom. She cries a lot. She had to get a job and it’s been pretty hard. I have to watch my brothers a lot more and cook dinner and stuff. That’s why I’ve been working so much at the Snow Chalet, so I can help out a little.”
She was quiet for a long time and Taryn wanted to say something. “It will improve, right? Remember how we used to dance to that old Howard Jones song, ‘Things Can Only Get Better’? I heard that on the radio the other day and it made me think of all the fun we used to have together. I felt good, you know?”
Tears burned Taryn’s throat, remembering. Hannah had been her best friend once. What had happened?
“Working at the shave-ice stand isn’t that bad. It’s only for another week, until school starts. Just about everybody in town stops in sometimes. Lots of tourists come there, too.” She smiled, pretty. “Cute boys, too. Yesterday a couple of guys came in from California. I didn’t have any other customers so they stayed and talked to me for a while, asked me about hiking trails and stuff like that.”
Hannah laughed a little. “If you’d been there, you would have known how to flirt with them. You’ve always been so much better at that than I could ever be. I just gave them their tiger’s blood shave ices and took their money and mumbled something stupid about how they should take the Woodrose Mountain trail for the best view of town.”
“It’s…nice.” Taryn meant the trail but all of this, too. Having Hannah here, that she remembered to bring her a shave ice, that she brought back memories of fun and being a kid.
“I’m really sorry about what you’ve been through, Taryn. You didn’t deserve to have such a terrible thing happen to you.”
She did. She deserved all of it. Her fault. Layla was dead and it was her fault.
“And I’m sorry I’m babbling on. I mean, why would you ever be interested in my boring life?”
“I am.” She was. She was. Struggling, straining, she lifted her hand to touch Hannah’s hand. “Sorry.” For everything. Especially for dropping a friend because she wasn’t as popular and probably would never be. It hadn’t been nice. Or right.
Hannah laughed. It was a good, big laugh. She’d forgotten. “You’re sorry my life is so boring? I don’t blame you for that. No one is more sorry about it than I am, believe me.”
The door opened and Evie came back, pretty and smiling.
“It took me longer than I’d expected. I got talking with Mrs. Olafson and lost track of time. Are you having a nice visit?”
Hannah stood. “You know, we really are. But I’d better go. My mom is working late and I have to go fix pizza for my brothers.” She paused. “Would it be okay if I came back, Ms. Blanchard?”
Evie looked at Taryn, the question in Evie’s eyes.
Taryn formed the word carefully, so there could be no mistake. “Yeess.”
Hannah had been her best friend. Maybe they could be friends again.
“I just had a great idea,” Evie exclaimed. “Are you working tomorrow?”
“My shift doesn’
t start until two.”
“Are you free in the morning?”
“I think so. Friday is my mom’s day off.”
“Great! I still want to help you make the earrings for your mom’s birthday. I’ve got a few other things I need to do at the store and I’ve been trying to juggle everything. Why don’t I take Taryn down to String Fever tomorrow and we can all work on them together?”
“That would be terrific!” Hannah was happy.
Taryn wasn’t. She was scared. She was too different and too many people she knew came to the bead store.
Evie saw her frown. “Are you okay with that? We can go early enough in the day that the only people there will probably be your grandmother and Claire. Won’t it be good to spend some time somewhere besides a hospital room and your house?”
Not really. Not when people might stare. But Hannah looked happy and Taryn didn’t want to ruin it. She shrugged.
“We’ll see you at nine-thirty then. Does that work for your schedule?”
“I think so. I’ll call you if it doesn’t. Thank you. Thank you so much, Ms. Blanchard. I’ll see you both then.”
Taryn watched her go, mad at herself that she hadn’t said no. She didn’t really deserve friends. She didn’t deserve to be happy, to get better. She should tell Hannah to stay away. She would only hurt her again, like she hurt everybody.
* * *
SLOW PROGRESS was still forward momentum. Evie refused to believe it was anything else. She had listened outside the door as Hannah had spoken so kindly and warmly to Taryn. Through the crack in the doorway, she had seen the excitement in Taryn’s features at having her friend there to talk to her. Though she hadn’t spoken much, Taryn had seemed brighter and far more interactive than usual. Evie was certain she had genuinely enjoyed having her friend over for a visit, just like any other teenage girl.
The whole one-step-forward, two-steps-back thing had her ready to tear out her hair, though. If Evie had expected Taryn to be cooperative after Hannah left, she would have been doomed to disappointment. For the rest of the afternoon, Taryn fought her at every turn. She was sullen and distracted and didn’t seem to want to do anything, no matter what Evie tried.
For the first time, she even refused to cooperate with the speech therapist Brodie had hired, a very nice middle-aged woman who, like the O.T., drove from Denver three times a week to work with Taryn.
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