Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1)

by Babette de Jongh

  When I shoved that strange feeling aside, I enjoyed sharing a meal with Ben and the kids, but something vital was missing. I filled a hole in this family’s life, but what about the hole in mine? What about my dream of having a husband who’d choose me first, not just as an alternate?

  After dinner, Ben cleaned the kitchen. I supervised Amy’s bath time and dressed her in Hello Kitty pajamas. Then Ben and I tucked Amy into bed.

  Amy locked her arms around my neck and pulled me close. She whispered, filling my ear with her hot, damp breath. “I need you to snuggle me up while I go to sleep.”

  “Baby, I can’t.” Her toddler bed was exactly the size of a baby crib, though it was close to the ground and fashioned like a regular bed. “I can’t fit in your bed.”

  “No,” she clarified, louder this time. I knew Ben could hear her from where he stood, leaning against the bedroom doorway. “I want you to snuggle me up in Daddy’s bed, like Mommy used to.”

  “Tell you what.” I looked over to see the grin on Ben’s face. “I’ll give you another kiss now, and check on you in a few minutes.”

  She sighed, disappointed but resigned. “Promise you’ll come right back.”

  “I promise.”

  Jake and Maryann had both retreated to their own rooms, under lights-out-at-bedtime orders. Ben and I went into the den and sat together on the couch, but not close. With his arm stretched across the back, his fingers touched my shoulder. “Casey, I’ve been thinking.” He flicked his fingers in a fleeting caress.

  “Oh, please don’t do that,” I teased.

  “I want to sell this house. The kids and I need to live where memories don’t tackle us every time we turn a corner. I loved Mel, but I need to move on.”

  He had my attention. I searched his face, waiting.

  “Would you help me find the right place? It wouldn’t have to mean anything about you and me.” He looked over at me with a meaningful expression, then delivered the zinger. “Unless you want it to.”

  Had Ben sort-of-almost proposed to me? “Ben, I—”

  “Let me finish.” He held a hand up. “I want to have the kids out of this house by Christmas.”

  “Ben, there’s no way. It’s almost Thanksgiving.”

  “And—”

  “But—”

  “My God, woman! Would you let me finish?”

  “Sorry, sorry.” I barricaded my lips with my fingers to stop any more outbursts.

  “I trust your judgment, and if I’m lucky, my house may be yours too, someday—”

  Again, that sort of almost sounded like a proposal. My heart started fluttering, with fear or anticipation, or a combination of the two. “Ben—”

  “Don’t get all jumpy. I said the day may come, not that it will.”

  “But—”

  “Will you stop being so damn difficult and let me finish?”

  I clamped a hand against my mouth.

  “On Christmas morning when the kids open their presents, I want it to be in a new place, where every moment isn’t compared with the times when Melody was here. Will you help me?”

  “Yes,” I found myself saying. “I will.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  On Monday, I backed my car up to the sidewalk outside the studio, hoping my helpers would arrive before I followed the urge to seek out Ian and throw myself at his feet. Today and tomorrow, I’d be measuring everyone for their recital costumes and taking money to place the order instead of teaching ballet classes. Two eight-foot folding tables I had borrowed from my parents covered the fold-down back seat and stuck out the back. I couldn’t carry the tables upstairs by myself, but Victoria and Keely had promised to help, having gotten permission to leave school an hour early. But they were late.

  I looked at my watch again. I trusted these girls. Besides, they knew that anyone who saw them slacking off was likely to notify me, or their parents. Absently, I stroked Lizzie’s head and turned my face toward the cool breeze that wafted through the car’s open windows. Nice weather for late November. Sweater weather.

  In the rearview mirror, I saw Wilson, the young man who supervised the press runs, rush out of the newspaper office. His spiky blonde hair stuck out all over his head, again reminding me of a peroxided rooster. His build wasn’t right for that analogy, though. His neck was too thick for that. Sensing he was coming out here on my account, I climbed out of the car and held the door open for Lizzie, who hopped out onto the sidewalk and shook herself.

  Wilson barreled toward me with purpose. “Hi, Miss Casey.”

  “Wilson, what are you up to?” I hurried around the back of my car and met him halfway.

  He only shoved me aside, gently of course. “Scuse me.” A man of few words.

  “Wilson, what are you doing?”

  “I’m carrying your tables upstairs,” he explained, as if I wasn’t terribly bright.

  “You are?” I moved aside, watching the tendons in his neck stand out while he pulled the topmost table out and put one end on the ground.

  “Mr. Ian noticed your car sitting out here. He sent me.” He hefted the table, tucked it under one arm, and started toward the stairs. “Good thing these here are the narrow ones. The wide kind, I’d have to get some help with.”

  It was nice of Ian to send Wilson out to help me, and I wondered what it meant, if anything. Though his “the hell I will” comment to Ben last week made me think he might call me, he hadn’t. He’d left the relationship ball in my court. Sometimes I wanted to bat it back to him, but other times I knew better than to leap off safe ground with Ben into the unknown with Ian—who, let’s face it, I didn’t know all that well in spite of the fireworks between us. For all I knew, he was still sleeping around. So instead of making a decision, I lived in a state of anxious agitation and indecision.

  “Wilson, wait.” I hurried to catch up, reaching to support one end of the table, at least, as he carried it up the stairs. “I’ll help.”

  “Nah.” He gave the table a tiny little jerk, so I lost my grip. “I can do it better by myself.”

  I followed him up the stairs and squeezed past to open the door. Lizzie slipped by us both and took up her station under the studio’s classroom windows.

  Wilson huffed into the foyer and turned in a half-circle. “Where d’ya want it?”

  “Right where you’re standing will be just fine.” He flipped the table over, set up the legs, and positioned it in less than a minute. Even with the help of the two girls, it would have taken us a lot of huffing, puffing and sweating to get that table up here.

  Testosterone is apparently a necessary ingredient for some activities.

  “Okay, then.” He shot a surprisingly shy smile my way. “One down, one to go.”

  I couldn’t help much, but felt obliged to follow and look appreciative. Coming down the stairs, we met Victoria and Keely coming up. Wilson smiled at them, and they clutched at each other, stifling giggles.

  I gave them a ‘what is wrong with you?’ look, and followed Wilson down the stairs. When I trailed behind him as he carried the second table into the foyer minutes later, my supposed helpers had splayed themselves out in the center of the foyer, practicing the splits.

  Showing off for my beefy-armed, rooster-haired helper.

  I looked at him again. Was he what passed for cute these days? I guessed so. He was young, built, and blond. Brad Pitt’s young country cousin on steroids. I couldn’t pass judgment on the girls for showing off. Hadn’t I done the same for Ian?

  My conscience sniffed. At least I’d warmed up first.

  Finished, he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his tight jeans. “Is that all you need?”

  “Yes, Wilson. Thank you so much.” I pulled a ten out of the cash box and offered it as a tip, but he refused, blushing and looking down at the floor.

  “No thank you, ma’am. I was happy to help.” He grinned at the girls who were still practicing their splits—wearing jeans, to boot—in the middle of the floor. Then he ducked h
is head, and went back downstairs.

  “Miss Casey.” Victoria twirled a lock of cinnamon-brown hair. “How many boyfriends do you have?”

  “I like Mr. Buchanan best,” Keely said. “I think Wilson is too young for you.”

  “Y’all are so funny. Go get the folding chairs out of the storage room and set them up along the walls.” I set out the measuring tape, paperwork, and the collage I’d made of the recital costumes for each class.

  I’d pored over costume catalogs for days, selecting the costumes for each dance. I’d spent hours with the calculator, adding prices, deducting discounts, calculating shipping charges, dividing by the number of students in each class. If I was any sort of business woman, I’d add on a little profit for myself. But unfortunately for me, I wasn’t any sort of business woman.

  With the cash box ready, I could make change for parents forking out frightening amounts of money to pay for costumes. Keely and Victoria measured, I handled the money, and students were free to go—in fact, encouraged to leave—as soon as we’d finished.

  For my helpers’ help, I paid for their costumes.

  I had scheduled siblings together to simplify things for parents. Amy and Maryann ran in together, with Lois far behind, breathing hard. She paused to catch her breath. “I hope we’re not late.” Her thin, veined cheeks flushed crimson; her poodle-gray curls clung in sweaty strands to her neck.

  “No, you’re not late.” I led her to a folding chair. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and let it out, then sat heavily, as if her legs had stopped working. “Ben wanted to bring them, but he got stuck in a conference call. He’s doing most of his work from home now, you know.”

  I sat next to her. “You’re not looking fine right now. Are you sure you’re okay? Can I get you some water?”

  “My blood pressure’s higher than it should be. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

  “That sounds serious.” I knew nothing about blood pressure problems.

  Lois waved my concern away. “I’m glad we have a minute to talk. I want to thank you for all you’ve done for Ben and the children.”

  “Oh, Lois. You know I’m happy to help.”

  “I want you to know that whatever happens between you and Ben will be okay with me. It’s what Melody would’ve wanted.”

  I glanced over at Victoria and Keely, who worked together to take Maryann’s measurements and note them on the list. They weren’t listening to us, and thank God there weren’t any other adults around to hear this. Gossip in Angel Falls spread like butter on a warm biscuit. “Lois, there’s nothing—”

  “I know there’s nothing between you and Ben... yet.” She put a hand on the side of my face. “But I also know that you have a history. Maybe one worth repeating?” She patted my cheek. “You’ve been an angel, and I know my grandchildren and son-in-law couldn’t find anyone better to take Melody’s place.”

  I started to say something—I don’t know what—but Lois stood and opened her purse. “What do we owe you for the costumes?”

  *

  That night, I counted money, wrote deposit slips, and fought myself over calling Ian. I should thank him for sending Wilson to unload those tables, my southern belle polite side argued against the sensible part of my brain that told me to keep my distance.

  In a weak moment, I grabbed the phone and dialed his number. One ring, two... maybe he’s asleep already....

  “Hello?”

  I had missed his sexy accent, the way he drew out the O sound in his deep voice. “Ian. It’s me.”

  “Casey.” His voice sounded tentative, like someone walking across a newly-iced pond.

  “Thank you for sending Wilson to carry those tables upstairs.”

  “You’re very welcome.” His voice held a quiet reserve that made me think he might not be alone.

  The words I didn’t have the courage to say crowded up against the back of my throat.

  Ian, I love you.

  Ian, I want to talk about what happened.

  Ian, why was that woman spending the night at your house?

  “Well,” I said. “Thanks again.”

  “No worries. As your landlord, I’m always ready to help if need be.”

  Ouch. That stung. “Okay. Well. Thanks again.” How many times had I said that? Not too many, I hoped. “Bye.”

  “Goodbye, Casey.”

  I hung up, wondering if his words were as final as they sounded.

  *

  Meredith came into the studio with her daughter Jennifer on Tuesday, another costume-fitting day. She handed me a manila envelope from the realty company. “I know you’re busy, but Joan wanted me to give you the MLS listings for our area, with every house on the market in the price range Ben gave her. Y’all can ride by and take a look, then let her know which ones you want to see inside.”

  “Meredith,” I kept my voice low and quiet. “You know I’m just helping Ben out... as a friend.” Rumors could get started so easily in a small town, and I didn’t want Ben’s kids to be hurt by malicious, or even idle, gossip. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “I’m sorry.” Meredith lowered her voice. “I wasn’t thinking.” She glanced around at the crowd of students in the foyer. Most had arrived minus their parents, which made life difficult. They had just been sent up the stairs with a blank check for costumes. Now Victoria and Keely and I would have to spend our time keeping the girls out of trouble while they waited to be picked up. “Do you need us to stay and help?”

  “Could you really?” I put my arm around Jennifer and gave her a quick hug. She was such a sweet girl, a little carbon copy of her mother. “I’ll give you Jennifer’s costume for free.”

  Meredith scoffed. “Not necessary. I’ll just text Cole and tell him to put a chunk of frozen lasagna in the oven.”

  “I’ll babysit the little ones who are waiting to be picked up,” Jennifer offered. “I can put a DVD on for them to watch in the studio.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  Meredith and Jenn gathered up a bunch of girls who were milling around the foyer, and my helpers and I were left with blessed silence and only one girl being measured while her mom wrote a check.

  Joan Murphy burst into the silence like the firecracker she was, as sparkling and loud and attention-getting as fireworks. Her twins trailed behind, and a few more parents arrived with their kids.

  “Hey!” Joan’s voice was three times as big as her body. “I see Meredith brought you those listings. Let me know when you and Ben are ready to look inside some of the houses.”

  Victoria cut her eyes toward us, listening to the conversation while she called out measurements to Keely.

  “Okay, Joan.” I lowered my voice in the hope that she’d lower hers. “Thanks.”

  “I’m pretty free on Friday if you and Ben want to come by the office then.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “No problem!” Joan wrote a hefty check for costumes and signed with a flourish. “Y’all let me know as soon as you make a decision on which houses y’all want to see!” She talked as if everyone around her was hard-of-hearing but needed to know what was going on. “I know you’ll love one that isn’t even on the list! We’ll look at it once you’ve seen the others. Even though it’s a little out of Ben’s price range, it’s a great buy! Someone else will snap it up for sure if you don’t beat them to it! I can’t wait to show it to you!” She glanced at her watch and whistled. “Girls, are y’all about done? We’ve got to fly to pick up your brother at band practice!”

  They left like a whirlwind, leaving everyone in the room breathless. Meredith came back in and marshalled the kids waiting to be measured along one wall, then sat beside me. “So,” she said quietly, “I’m confused about something.”

  “Yeah?” I was counting out cash, paper-clipping each bundle when I got to a hundred. “Rumor has it that you’re dating the new editor, but you’re house-hunting with Ben.”

  I stopp
ed counting but didn’t look up. “Wrong on both counts. Ian and I aren’t together anymore, and Ben is just a friend.”

  Meredith made a humming sound. “I figured you and Ian might not be an item anymore, since he...” She cleared her throat softly.

  “Since he—what?”

  “Well, that big house he’s living in is about to go up for sale. You know he’s just renting, right? And he has first refusal but claims he doesn’t want it, even though the owner just came down off the price by a substantial amount. His lease runs through the end of the year, but...”

  Meredith’s voice was drowned out by the clamor in my head. No wonder Ian wasn’t interested in making amends. He didn’t plan to stay.

  “He’s in negotiations to sell the newspaper, too. I know this is none of my business, and I’d probably get in trouble for telling you if anyone found out, but I wanted you to know in case... in case...” Meredith put a hand over mine.

  “Thanks.” I went back to counting money, while my heart crumpled like a used paper cup. “I appreciate the information, but it isn’t necessary. Ian and I are old news.”

  *

  I spent the next two mornings driving past houses. Even if the perfect house fell on top of our heads, Ben wouldn’t be able to close a deal and get his family moved in before Christmas. Still, I looked. I came up with five possibilities and called Ben Thursday night.

  “I can’t go tomorrow,” he said. “We’re starting a new project with a company in Birmingham. I’ll have to be there early in the morning to meet with the development team. I was just about to call you, to make sure you could take care of the kids.”

  “But what about looking at houses? Do you want me to move the appointment to Saturday?”

  “No, no.” Ben sounded distracted. I could hear him rattling papers in the background. “Look at them all and pick the best one. I won’t be back until really late tomorrow night. We’ll all go together on Saturday to check it out.”

  “Ben, one day is not enough time to find a house, for God’s sake. These things take time. Maybe you shouldn’t try to move until summer break.”