by Brenda Novak
“Why couldn’t you?”
He forked the bacon onto a paper towel-covered plate and poured most of the grease into a jar. Then he broke a couple of eggs into the pan, which he put back on the burner. “I don’t know. I think I was afraid she’d get too comfortable.”
Rebecca studied him. “I’m lounging around your kitchen,” she pointed out. “I’m even wearing your clothes.”
“I know,” he said. “And the crazy thing is, I like it.”
* * *
WHEN REBECCA RETURNED home shortly after ten o’clock, she found Hatty’s old Buick gone and the house empty. Which was a relief. Now she didn’t have to answer any awkward questions about staying out all night. And without anyone to waylay her, she was able to shower, change and dash to the salon in time for her eleven o’clock perm with Mrs. Londonberry.
“You’re sure quiet today,” Mrs. Londonberry said as Rebecca put the rods in her hair. “You feeling okay, dear?”
“Fine,” Rebecca said. In fact, she’d never been better, or had more pleasant memories to mull over. But she was afraid that stating her feelings too emphatically would draw unwanted attention. This relationship between her and Josh was still new enough that she wasn’t really sure whether or not she could trust it.
“You look really happy,” Ashleigh said, kneeling in front of the shelves while restocking the hair care products. With Rebecca still working at the salon, it was taking Ashleigh longer to establish a clientele than it would have otherwise. But she seemed content to clean, organize and answer the phone. And Erma had come to depend on the extra help.
Mona paused while sterilizing her nail instruments at the utility sink. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you smile this much since—Hey, don’t tell me you and Buddy are back together!”
“No,” Rebecca said quickly, keeping her attention on Mrs. Londonberry’s iron-gray hair.
“Then what’s going on?” Katie asked. She was sitting in her own seat, flipping through a magazine while awaiting her next client. “You seem different today.”
“I’m not different,” Rebecca said, wondering how everyone could tell that the world she was living in today wasn’t the one she’d been living in yesterday.
The buzzer squawked over the door, and Booker and his grandmother entered the salon.
“I’m here for my appointment,” Hatty announced as though she expected Rebecca to boot Mrs. Londonberry out of her seat.
Booker shot a not-so-covert glance at Katie, who whirled her chair around and immediately began rummaging through drawers.
Rebecca could feel the tension between them, but she was too preoccupied to focus on it. She’d forgotten that she was supposed to cut and perm Hatty’s hair today. Hatty normally had Erma do it, but Erma had been taking more and more time off. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she said. “Go ahead and have a seat.”
As Hatty settled herself, Booker unzipped his jacket and sauntered over to Rebecca’s station. “How’d it go last night?”
Rebecca cleared her throat, looking around to see who might be listening. “Fine,” she muttered.
“That’s it?” he asked, grinning wickedly.
Mrs. Londonberry put down the magazine she’d been perusing and stared up at them. “What happened last night? Did I miss something?”
“Nothing happened,” Rebecca said, but Hatty must have had her hearing aid turned all the way up because she didn’t miss a beat when she shouted across the room. “Something must’ve happened. You never came home.”
Ashleigh rocked back on her knees. “Aha! Is Rebecca seeing someone new? Already?”
Rebecca didn’t want to admit to anything. She wanted to wait and see what happened with Josh before everyone starting talking about them. She could only imagine what her father and sisters…and Randy would have to say.
“Sure she’s seeing someone,” Granny belted out. “It’s that cute boy, Josh Hill. Booker told me he has a thing for her. He wants her bad—isn’t that what you said, Booker?”
Silence engulfed the salon.
“Thanks a lot,” Rebecca muttered to Booker.
“Josh Hill?” Mona repeated, sounding as surprised as though Granny had just said she was seeing Brad Pitt.
Booker shrugged, obviously trying to play off Granny’s blunder. “Sure, why not?”
“Why not?” Mrs. Londonberry cried. “Because he’s supposed to marry Barb and Gene’s daughter, Mary.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Ashleigh stood and began to gather up her boxes. “They broke up.”
“They broke up on account of Josh having a thing for Rebecca,” Granny said.
“But you and Josh have never gotten along,” Katie said, her eyes sliding toward Booker.
“Is it true, Rebecca?” Mona asked.
Rebecca shrugged. “Not really, no. I mean…Josh and I are…friends.”
“I don’t spend the night with my male friends,” Ashleigh said.
Closing her eyes, Rebecca felt a doomed sensation come over her. She’d never be able to stop the rumors that were going to fly all over town, never be able to reel in what had just gotten out. No one would believe Josh could want her. They’d laugh, and she’d look like a fool. Especially since she was no longer sure that what had happened last night had the meaning she’d thought it did. Her time with Josh seemed almost too perfect. “No one said I spent the night with him.”
“Then where were you last night?” Mona arched her brows at Rebecca while carrying her instruments to her station.
“She certainly wasn’t at my place,” Granny said with a cackle. “But that’s okay. If I were her, I would’ve stayed with Josh, too. He’s a looker!”
“I’ll admit he’s cute,” Ashleigh said. “But is he everything he’s cracked up to be?”
“He told me Buddy was in the market to breed a horse,” Katie said, seemingly to herself.
“I don’t think Barb’s going to be very happy about this,” Mrs. Londonberry chipped in. “She just told me yesterday that she expects Mary and Josh to get married this Christmas.”
Rebecca dropped her scissors on her rolling tray and sighed. She supposed there was little point in asking everyone to keep this quiet. Insisting on secrecy would only ensure that the news traveled faster.
“Is that why Josh came in here to get his hair cut?” Katie wanted to know.
“No,” Rebecca said. “You guys are making a big deal out of nothing. Mary told me he’s going back to her. So it’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it?” Mona asked.
Rebecca wished she had a good answer to that question. Josh had said he wanted their lovemaking to mean something. He’d treated her as though he cared about her and said some very flattering things. She just didn’t know how serious he was when he said them. And putting the whole town in an uproar couldn’t possibly help.
“We’re—” She grappled for some statement that might calm everyone down. But then the phone rang and she hurried across the salon to answer it, grateful for the unexpected reprieve.
“Hair And Now,” she said.
“Rebecca?”
“Hi, Laney.”
“It’s time.”
“For what?” she said, still preoccupied with the catastrophe at hand.
“For the baby.”
“Oh!” She stood straighter. “Right now?”
“Right now. Are you going to join us at the hospital?”
Rebecca glanced over at Mrs. Londonberry and Granny Hatfield, and considered the long list of appointments she had on the books. “Of course I’m coming,” she said. “Are you sure you’ll be able to make it all the way to Boise?”
“The contractions are still mild. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble.”
“Great. I’ll see you there.” Rebecca hung up. Then she begged Ashleigh to take whatever appointments she could and cancel any she couldn’t, told Booker she’d probably be home late, and escaped the salon.
But she knew her leaving wouldn’t stop the other
s from talking. And she hated the thought of what they might stir up in her absence.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE HOSPITAL ROOM WAS DARK and mostly quiet. There were the usual sounds of footsteps, hushed voices and equipment rolling down the hall, but they didn’t disturb a peace that, in the tired aftermath of such intense excitement, felt almost profound.
Delaney lay sleeping beneath a light blanket, her face serene. Conner, the concerned and doting father, had finally dozed off in the chair next to her bed. Rebecca held Delaney’s new baby girl. She’d considered leaving many times. The baby had been born nearly eight hours earlier and it was getting late. But Rebecca was still too emotionally charged and enamored with little Emily to go anywhere, despite the exhaustion that edged closer as the clock ticked toward midnight.
In the light spilling through the partially open doorway, she studied the miracle in her arms. Emily was wrapped tightly in receiving blankets and wearing a knit cap to keep her body temperature stable; only her tiny red face and long perfect fingers showed. But she had that sweet smell so peculiar to newborns, and the slight weight of her felt satisfying in Rebecca’s arms.
Toying with Emily’s hands, Rebecca admired them with the same reverence she’d experienced during the birth. “You’re incredible,” she murmured, brushing a kiss across her satiny cheek. “Seeing you come into the world makes me believe in all things that are good, little Em.”
“Sounds like you’re ready for a baby of your own,” Delaney said.
Embarrassed to realize she’d been overheard, Rebecca glanced up to find Delaney watching her, a gentle smile curving her lips. “I should find a husband first, don’t you think?” she replied, trying to steer the conversation away from the emotional.
Delaney arched her brows. “They may not be absolutely necessary, but I think it’s definitely the better way to go.” She leaned up on one elbow to see Conner, still slouched on the chair and dead to the world. “He made a pretty good coach today, don’t you think?”
“Oh, he got in my way a few times, but I forgive him,” Rebecca said. She’d actually told Delaney, repeatedly, that she’d wait in the lobby with Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph, Delaney’s adoptive parents. She hadn’t wanted to intrude—and she hadn’t particularly wanted anyone to see the tears streaming down her face as she watched Delaney’s baby take her first breath. But Conner’s mother hadn’t arrived from California yet, and the doctor allowed two visitors in the room. Delaney and Conner had both insisted she share the experience with them.
“He gets in my way sometimes, too,” Delaney said. But the tone of her voice suggested she liked having Conner in the way.
“I’m glad you two are happy,” Rebecca said.
Delaney smiled proudly at her sleeping husband before turning back to face Rebecca and her baby. “I know you are. I just wish things had worked out for you and Buddy. Were you thinking about him a few moments ago?”
“No, why?”
“When I first woke up, you seemed to be in your own little world.”
Rebecca had been in her own little world, but she’d been thinking of Josh, not Buddy. But for some reason, it was difficult to talk about Josh, even to Delaney. Ever since their phone conversation, in which Rebecca had claimed she felt nothing for Josh, she’d purposely not mentioned him to Delaney again. It’d been easier to let her best friend—and everyone else—believe she was pining for Buddy. Pining for Josh felt too much like crying for the moon. But the added closeness inspired by having so recently shared Emily’s birth seemed to demand less caution and more honesty. “I’m over Buddy,” she said.
Delaney blinked in surprise. “That was quick.”
Little Emily began to squirm, rooting for her mother’s breast, and Rebecca reluctantly passed her to Delaney. “I don’t think we were right for each other to begin with,” she said. “And…” Making the admission that was on the tip of her tongue was still difficult. Fear threatened to choke her. But, considering Hatty’s announcement at the salon today, Rebecca knew there was little point in withholding the truth. “…And I think there might be something between me and Josh, after all.”
Delaney had been looking down, trying to settle her baby to nurse, but now her head snapped up. “Seriously? You’re finally admitting it?”
Rebecca nodded.
“To him? Or just to me?”
“Last night he made me admit that I wanted to be with him.”
“And what did he say when you did?”
“That I’d tell him I love him someday.”
Delaney’s eyes rounded. “What do you think?”
Suddenly Rebecca felt fidgety and thought of having a cigarette for the first time in well over a week. Resolutely shoving the temptation away, she clenched her fists. She’d come too far to slip up now. “I think I could tell him I love him today and it would be a terrible understatement.”
Worry instantly shrouded Delaney’s face. “Oh, no…”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Rebecca asked.
“What else is there? You and Josh don’t have a very good track record. I’m almost afraid to guess what you might do to each other.”
“We’ve never tried going in this direction before,” Rebecca said.
“That’s true, but—” Delaney tucked her hair behind her ears and nibbled her bottom lip “—can you see yourself marrying Josh someday? Having his children, Beck?”
Letting her gaze fall to Delaney’s newborn, Rebecca nodded. “At this point,” she said softly. “I can’t imagine having anyone else’s.”
* * *
JOSH SNATCHED UP the phone on the first ring. He hadn’t heard from Rebecca since she’d left his house nearly fifteen hours earlier and, as midnight turned to one o’clock, he was beginning to worry that making love to her had been a one-shot deal. Considering Rebecca’s unpredictable nature, it was entirely possible she’d done an about-face and would never want to see him again. Maybe he hadn’t made it clear enough that what had happened this morning was actually positive. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t felt compelled to take the woman he’d spent the night with somewhere impersonal, like the diner, for breakfast.
When he’d stopped by the salon earlier, he’d learned that Delaney was in Boise having her baby and Rebecca was involved in the big event. But he’d expected her to call him at some point. He’d certainly left enough messages at Granny Hatfield’s.
“Hello?” he said. It was Rebecca’s birthday today—now that it was past midnight—and he wanted to be the first to acknowledge that. But it wasn’t Rebecca.
“Josh?”
“Mary?” he said. He hadn’t heard from her since he’d broken things off, but he’d suspected at the time that she thought he’d change his mind and come back to her. In their last conversation, she’d said as much. “You’ll never find anyone like me, Josh. You’ll wake up someday and figure that out,” she’d said. But she’d also rejected his offer of friendship, so he hadn’t expected her to contact him.
“Who else did you think it would be, calling this late?” she asked. Her words were slightly slurred and could barely compete with the music blaring in the background.
“Where are you calling me from? The Honky Tonk?”
“Yeah.”
He stopped the playback of the football game he’d been watching so he could hear her better. “Sounds like you’re having a good time.”
“No. No, I want to go home.”
“Is there any reason you can’t?” he asked, not quite sure why she’d called or where she was leading him.
“I-I need…”
She finished her sentence, but she was mumbling worse than before and Josh couldn’t hear her for the noise. “What?” he said.
“I need…ride home.”
Obviously, she’d had too much to drink. But Mary never went anywhere alone. “Where are your friends?”
“I don’t know. I think Candace…”
Again, what she said was lost. “Can you r
epeat that?” he asked, plugging his other ear in an effort to concentrate on her voice.
“…left with Leonard. And Wendy…don’t know.” He thought he heard her sniffle at the end of these sentence fragments and wondered if she was crying.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. But he couldn’t get a coherent answer out of her and he didn’t think she could hear him any more clearly than he could hear her.
He sighed. He really didn’t want to leave the house. He was still hoping to hear from Rebecca, and he wasn’t sure she had his cell number. Most people didn’t use cell phones in Dundee; the coverage was too spotty in the mountains. But he couldn’t leave Mary stranded at the Honky Tonk. “I’m coming,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”
When he finally got an okay out of her, he hung up and grabbed his coat before dashing outside. Grimacing at the rusty, dented Suburban that had become his usual mode of transportation since Rebecca burned up his Excursion, he shook his head.
“And she’s the woman I want in my kitchen,” he muttered. Then he climbed into the Suburban, started the engine and backed out of the drive.
* * *
JOSH FOUND MARY at a table near the jukebox, nursing another drink. As far as he could tell, she was alone. But her mascara was smeared and her clothes looked disheveled. When she saw him, the corners of her mouth turned down in a pouty, sullen expression.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
“You called me, remember? You ready to go home?”
“No.”
He glanced around the smoky tavern to see Billy and Bobby Jo and a couple of other guys playing darts. A few pool players huddled over the tables in the back, and a handful of couples were dancing. But the place wasn’t nearly as busy as it would’ve been a couple of hours earlier. Probably because it was almost two in the morning—closing time.
“It’s late,” he said.
She stared at her drink without answering.
“Mary? Do you want me to take you home or not?”
“How could you?” she suddenly demanded. “Do you know what you’ve done to me? Everyone expected us to get married. Everyone! And then you dump me for that…that tramp Rebecca.” She shook her head wildly as though words alone couldn’t describe her humiliation.