by Stacey Weeks
Her last attack was over four months ago, triggered when a pregnant client showed up with a telling facial bruise. She bit her tongue before the memory leaked out, giving Bill far more than she wanted him to know.
A final deep breath put her back into her emotional driver’s seat. “How about we go inside? Lucy, you still need to tell your mom about the bug bite. And I need a few minutes with Mr. Bill.” Her voice barely wobbled. How was she going to explain this to Bill without telling him everything?
Lucy giggled. “His name’s not Bill.”
Jenna’s mouth dried up. He really wasn’t anything like the Bill she remembered. Why was it so hard to start thinking of him as William? To think of him as a different man. He watched her intently. His jaw tightened and a muscle in his neck pulsed.
William opened doors Bill kept shut. Doors she needed to barricade.
She ripped her eyes from his and focused on Lucy. “You’re right, Lucy. He’s not Bill.”
And it scared her to death.
4
William dragged one hand over his day-old stubble and cranked the steering wheel around with the other. Dark storm clouds tumbled across the sky and a brisk wind whipped the last of the brittle leaves into a circular dance. He zipped down the familiar dirt road. A flash of black fur darted in front of him. He let off the gas and coasted until the speedometer showed a more acceptable speed. Getting in an accident on his way to the fall festival would only convince Jenna of his immaturity.
Ahhh, Jenna. Just saying her name electrified the air. Too bad there wasn’t a brake pedal that could slow his racing heart.
Jenna had never suffered from panic attacks in high school. He relived every word of their conversation from that night in the barn and he couldn’t figure out what might have triggered her terror. His heart hurt, imagining what kind of pain she had endured to produce such an immediate and intense response. But whatever the cause, she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. At least not with him.
He didn’t like it, but he would respect it.
He tapped the brake pedal and pulled onto the grassy field serving as a temporary parking lot for the Bayview Fall Festival. He crept up and down the aisles, searching for a parking spot, and exchanged friendly waves with other folks who had braved the impending storm. It seemed the entire town had held to the tradition of enjoying the annual fall festival kick-off, despite the darkening sky that made early afternoon feel like evening.
It would take more than a few gathering gray clouds and distant thunderous growls to dampen his spirits. Ever since Jenna’s panic attack, the invisible barrier between them had lowered. He felt closer to her. They chatted easily, like friends. She had stopped talking about her anxiousness to return to the city and seemed to really settle in. Like she belonged here. Maybe—
What was he thinking? Maybe nothing. He had no business hoping for anything but a paycheck that would save Paul’s farm. Especially from a girl who would soon return to the city.
He peered at the ominous sky. All he needed was a few more hours of good weather. He needed to see Jenna to discuss the film crew from the renovation show coming to the church.
Jackpot. He squeezed his truck into a tight opening and turned off the motor. The mayor would be awarding the blue ribbons for the annual scarecrow competition in about fifteen minutes. If he hurried, he’d be able to catch Jenna near the stage area where she was sure to be waiting with Lucy.
His gaze skipped over the rides and concession stands peaking over the top of the temporary picket fence surrounding the carnival. He brought Jenna to the festival on their first date back in high school. The night they shared their first kiss.
Was he crazy to hope she thought of that first kiss at all?
Like an unsatisfied itch, the memory prickled. They had enjoyed all the rides, games, and homemade goodies, but the scarecrow decorating contest had topped everything. Nearly every family in Bayview had created and decorated a scarecrow display on their front yard. On Thanksgiving weekend a team of judges drove around the community and scored the entrants, then, at the festival, they awarded blue ribbons.
When Jenna received that blue ribbon, she had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him.
The kiss that changed everything. Everything.
“Hey, William. Are you coming or what?” Tucker balanced a takeout coffee on the rooftop of William’s truck and tapped a few buttons on his cellphone before slipping it into his back pocket.
“Hey Tucker. Yeah. Give me a minute.” He slipped his keys into his pocket and grabbed his phone from the dash. He fell in step with Tucker. “Where did you come from? I didn’t see you when I parked.”
“We’ve been here for a while. I came back for my phone.” Tucker took a noisy slurp and dripped coffee down his shirt.
William lifted a brow. “We?”
“Me. Lucy. Jenna.” He dabbed at his shirt.
“Perfect. I came to see if I helped win Lucy a blue ribbon.”
“Ya right. You’re here for Lucy.” Tucker elbowed him good-naturedly and corralled him toward the gate.
William grinned.
“How are things progressing with the reality show?” Tucker showed the attendant at the gate his stamped hand, passed through, and turned, waiting for William.
“A crew is coming to film me on site in a few days. After that, the head guy will review my pitch and watch me on tape and decide if I’m the next TV home improvement guru.” William chuckled as he dug around in his pocket for a five dollar bill and handed it to the attendant. He pocketed the change and received his stamp.
“I bet you’ll do fine. They’ve come this far with you. They wouldn’t send a guy to film you if they didn’t think you were the one.”
“I hope so. I need this extra income to put towards the overdue payments on Paul’s farm. Linda’s really close to losing it.”
“I’m praying for you.”
Tucker’s simple words meant the world to William. God was the only One who could get the Scott family out of this predicament. And every prayer helped.
They rounded a bend and Tucker pointed toward the girls. Lucy and Jenna. Tucker jabbed him on the shoulder. “There she is. Go on and see if you helped her win a ribbon.” In one hand, Jenna held an enormous bag of cotton candy, and under her other arm, a stuffed bear.
William gulped.
Jenna’s dark fitted jeans and simple white, chunky knit sweater made her look like she’d just stepped off the pages of one of those Hollywood magazines. As if she felt his scrutiny, she glanced over and her expression changed. For a brief second joy flashed in her eyes but quickly shifted into nonchalance.
He didn’t even try to hide his grin. He walked right over spreading his arms wide as he went. “Looks like you’ve been here awhile.” He nodded toward her prizes and tried not to think about the guy who might have won them for her.
Lucy bounded into William’s open arms. “They’re mine, Mr. William.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze and smiled over her head at Jenna.
Jenna lifted the corner of her mouth and wryly replied, “I’m the porter.”
Relief and disbelief that she hadn’t yet caught the eye of some other guy coursed through him. He shut it down. He wasn’t interested in winning her prizes any more than he was interested in winning her heart.
“We had to come back to the gate because Dad forgot his phone and he needs it to take my picture when I win the scarecrow contest. Otherwise I’d already be working on trading this bear. I want the huge purple gorilla.” Lucy complained in a tone that sounded far too pre-teen to him.
“Because every girl needs a huge purple gorilla.” Tucker’s sarcasm was lost on his daughter. He gently tugged on one ponytail and winked as he jiggled his cellphone. “I didn’t need my camera, I needed my phone. I’m on call today. We are on call today,” he corrected, looking at William. “Besides, it’s a good thing I forgot, or we might not have found William. And he deserves to know i
f his superior carpentry skills earned you a blue ribbon.” Tucker took Lucy by the hand and relieved Jenna of the stuffed bear. He nodded his head in the direction of the makeshift stage. “The awards are this way.”
William came alongside Jenna and they followed Tucker and Lucy.
“It’s nice of you to come and support Lucy.” Jenna peered up at him through her long lashes. Her raised eyebrows and parted lips painted a picture of complete innocence.
Innocence he’d inadvertently shattered.
“You don’t mind that I came, do you?” Showing up like this shot him across more boundary lines than he could count, but lately they both seemed to have blurred the lines. Besides, she couldn’t expect him to stop seeing his best friend and family just because she moved in, could she?
“It’s fine. Lucy is thrilled you’re here. Besides, we wouldn’t have finished on time if you hadn’t shown up.”
When she pulled her sweater tighter across her body, he noticed the sudden chill in the air. He shrugged out of his jacket and held it out for her.
“It’s all right. I’m fine.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and her cheeks turned pink. Was it from the cold or from his gesture? He shrugged back into his coat, feeling a bit foolish for the chivalrous offer.
“Where’s Becky?” He changed the subject.
“Mom’s at the library table selling old books.” Lucy crinkled her nose. “Dusty old books.”
“Do we have time to swing by?” Jenna looked at her watch. “I could use something new to read.”
Tucker flashed William an odd look. His stormy glare was more worrisome than the gathering thunderclouds.
“Sure,” William hedged. “Unless Tucker has a reason we shouldn’t.”
Tucker’s expression neutralized. “Nope. No reason at all.”
As they made their way toward the booth, Lucy chattered on about all the things she wanted to do. She wanted to go on the hayride, visit the petting zoo, and choose a pumpkin from the pumpkin patch. She made the biggest racket over wanting to ride a pony. “Can I, Daddy? Please!”
Tucker’s indulgent smile tugged at a strange place in William’s chest. A place he thought he’d buried so deep nothing could touch it. Would he ever love like that again? Without holding back? Without fear of loss? He’d lost too much to risk it.
A car alarm screeched in the parking lot. William lifted his hand to guide Jenna by the elbow through the crowd. He caught himself just in time, snatched his hand back, and stuffed it in his pocket. Why did it feel so natural to want to guide her through the throng? As teenagers, she had been the strong one, the one who directed him toward faith in God. He resolved that this time around, he would share his faith. Be the strong friend.
More than anything else, he wanted to be a good friend. That was all. Friends.
She stiffened.
He followed her gaze and his eyes landed on his sister-in-law. Linda stood in the Red Cross booth, adjacent to the library book table. Now Tucker’s warning made sense, and if Jenna’s pale face was any indication, this was her first time seeing Linda since her return to Bayview.
The shallow rise and fall of Jenna’s chest and her pursed lips brought everything back. The bet. The humiliation. The hurt.
“Do you want to go?” His lips grazed her ear in his eagerness to shift this first meeting to a less public setting. He’d failed to protect her the last time she went toe to toe with Linda. He wouldn’t fail her today.
A bank of ominous clouds tumbled through the sky, and everyone startled at a threatening boom that rattled the tree branches.
“No.” She squared her shoulders and marched up to the booth. “Hi, Linda, it’s me, Jenna Jenkins.”
William waited for a telling sign that Jenna’s name rang a bell. He didn’t have to wait long.
“W-wow,” Linda stammered. “I haven’t seen you since high school.”
“Prom night to be exact.”
Linda blanched, then, to her credit, she turned two shades of red. “Yeah, prom night. How have you been?” Linda briefly flicked questioning eyes to William, then refocused on Jenna.
“Great, just great. I’m here helping my brother with a design project at the church.”
“Good for you.” Linda laughed pleasantly, regaining her poise. “I’m doing some promotional work for the Red Cross. Trying to drum up some more donors.” She glanced at William. “Can we count on you to rally your work crew for the blood drive taking place in the gym next week?”
“Yeah, sure,” he answered, but his mind wasn’t on the upcoming blood drive that he promoted every year. It was on the squall brewing between these two women.
Linda focused on Jenna. “I’ve been keeping busy just being a mom and running my salon.” Linda shrugged her shoulders as if offering a half apology for the boring comparison.
“Salon? I didn’t know you did hair.” Jenna glanced at Linda’s ponytail.
“You wouldn’t know it now. I took some vacation time to prepare for the Red Cross Blood drive.” Linda self-consciously patted her locks.
This wasn’t going to end well. William stepped between the women. Jenna’s stiff back and tight jaw countered her external calm tone.
“This must be your son.” Jenna ignored William and gestured to the gawking boy standing beside Linda and holding a clip board.
His nephew.
“Yes, this is David. He’s seven.” Linda smiled and gave David a gentle nudge. He held out his hand and offered to shake Jenna’s.
Her chunky bangles clanked around her wrist as David pumped Jenna’s hand with young enthusiasm.
William’s hand hovered at the small of Jenna’s back, but he didn’t dare touch the prickly woman. He dropped his hand to his side. This train was headed off the tracks and he needed to somehow contain the collateral damage. “Hi, Linda, how are you and David doing?”
“Hi, Uncle William.” David grinned up at him with adoring eyes. “Did you come to take me on the rides? Mom said you might.”
Jenna’s handshake with David faltered in mid action, and finally stopped.
William flinched as she connected the dots. Linda Pritchard was now Linda Scott. His family. His sister-in-law. The two people who set into motion the first domino that derailed Jenna’s life were related—forever connected.
Jenna stepped away from them both.
~*~
Jenna sized Linda up, comparing their weight, hairstyle and fashion sense while Linda shifted her heavier post-high-school frame from foot to foot. She wore an old sweatshirt, faded blue jeans, an open jacket, and sneakers. Hair that sparkled with golden highlights in her glory days hung in a messy ponytail and showed an inch of dark roots at the scalp. A rush of victory swept through Jenna. She won the childish game, hands down. She adjusted her purse strap and fought against her growing and petty sensation of superiority.
But her counterfeit smile waned when memories of Linda’s taunts stole her victory. Linda and William. Against her.
William had dated her in high school to win a bet for one hundred dollars. A prize Linda had gleefully handed over while declaring in front of the whole school that it was only fair. William did bring the biggest loser to prom.
It didn’t matter that Becky had later insisted William refused the money, or that he had tried to stop the bet. He didn’t try hard enough. And someone who really cared about her—who really loved her like he had claimed—wouldn’t have stood there in shocked silence. He would have defended her.
Inside her chest, the thunder rolled. She might look like a million bucks, but she felt like something that just crawled out of the gutter to die. How could she be so dumb?
Linda and William were family. Family. She had never linked his references of a sister-in-law to Linda Pritchard. He, of all people, should know how much this woman had humiliated her. She swallowed down the nausea that clawed up her throat while exchanging empty pleasantries with Linda.
Her mind whirled behind the conversation. What was going
on here? William’s recent kindness toward her had followed a sick familiar pattern. He had spent most of their senior year wooing her. He had come to church with her. He had earned her first kiss. And none of it had meant anything more than a paycheck. A lousy one hundred dollar paycheck.
Was his current kindness a down payment for a bigger payout? She sneaked a glance his way and their gazes collided. The intensity of his overwhelmed her.
Their first kiss, her first kiss ever, happened near where they were now standing, at the Fall Festival that senior year, right after she won the blue ribbon for her scarecrow. Her fingertips brushed over her lips, startling her from the memory. Did he remember? She wished she could read him as easily as a romance novel. Then, she could flip to the end and discover once and for all if he was a sincere man or a schmoozing player.
A flash of lightning lit the sky.
Her heart slammed to a halt. She lurched into action, needing to retreat from the awkward moment with some dignity intact.
“I, ah, I…um, we…” Jenna glanced at William again. “We better be going. We have some stuff to get together for, for later.”
Jenna backtracked and stumbled on an uneven patch of grass and turned her ankle in her designer boots. She hobbled toward the stage area where the awards would be announced any minute. David’s young voice drifted on the waves of the wind and she paused just long enough to hear his disrespectful words. “Why doesn’t she wear cowboy boots like us? Her fancy ones look dumb.”
The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
Jenna’s cheeks burned. It served her right for being rash. Someone like Linda never changed. Maybe William, or should she say Bill, hadn’t either.
Parker’s heckling rose afresh. Stupid and useless roared through her brain. Even a seven-year-old boy saw through her façade and called it as he saw it—dumb.
She sank onto one of the bales of hay arranged to provide seating in the stage area. She pinched her eyes against the haze of pain. How far would she have to run to escape the surviving torture?