Huntington Family Series
Page 98
That seemed unfair. Even now, he was directing his daughter—Ria, Kerrianne remembered—to help pick up the remaining slabs while he held the broken shelf steady. Grinning, the girl did as her father instructed. Benjamin, too, was helping, but Misty was staring at Ryan’s daughter, her blue eyes narrowed with concentration.
“I know you,” Misty said. “You go to my school. You’re in third grade, aren’t you? In Mrs. McCoy’s class.”
Ria paused. “Yeah. I’ve seen you around. What grade are you in?”
“Second.”
“Mrs. Jeppson’s?”
“Yeah.”
The conversation was cut short as a teenaged store employee with a spotty complexion came down the aisle. He looked at them accusingly. “What happened?”
“The shelf broke,” Kerrianne said, unwilling to say anymore.
Ria pointed at Misty and Benjamin. “Those kids were climbing on it.”
“It’s my fault,” Kerrianne said. “I steadied myself on the shelf.”
With a disgruntled sigh and a cold stare that told her he thought she was insane, the teenager began fiddling with something under the shelf. Every so often he stopped to cast a venomous glance in Kerrianne’s direction.
Probably interrupted his flirting with a checker, she thought.
Another store employee rounded the corner, coming toward them very fast. He was older with brown hair, and his short figure was rather stocky, looking strong enough to lift up all the shelves with only two fingers.
“Get a cart,” he barked at the pimple-faced teen.
The boy obeyed immediately, his demeanor instantly changing. He dashed down the aisle and returned within seconds. The manager began placing the plastic-wrapped chocolate pieces in the cart. The teen helped, and so did Ryan. Kerrianne stood there, frozen, until they began unloading the chocolate from her own cart.
“Uh, I was going to buy those. They’re damaged now.”
The teen hesitated, holding a dented block of chocolate in his hands.
“You don’t have to do that. We’ll take care of it.” The manager said airily, though Kerrianne could have sworn his eyes were telling her she most certainly should. Was it her imagination? He smiled at her but it looked more like a grimace.
The next thing she knew, they had completely emptied her cart of the chocolate. “Wait!” she said, her earlier panic returning. “I need one.” She reached for the chocolate in the spotty teenager’s hand, tugging on it.
He tugged back. “It’s broken. You don’t have to buy it.”
“I need it!” Kerrianne felt close to tears. She gave a mighty tug. The package ripped as the chocolate snapped in two, the chipped pieces sprinkling to the floor like confetti.
The manager’s face turned red, and the teen smirked at her. Ryan looked amused, while her children were watching with mouths ajar. Other customers in the aisle stifled their laughter.
“Well, it looks fresh,” she said, examining the chocolate instead of all the staring faces. “That’s good.”
Mumbling something under his breath, the manager took an undamaged piece from the extra cart and handed it to Kerrianne, relieving her of the broken piece and giving it to the teenager. “Take the cart to the back.” He glowered at the teen, who snapped his gum with apparent unconcern. “And in the future,” the manager added in an icy tone, “please don’t play tug-of-war with the customers.”
The teen bobbed his head, carelessly tossed the broken chocolate slab on top of the pile, and wheeled off.
“But I need—” Kerrianne stopped short, staring at the block of chocolate the manager had given her. It was significantly smaller than either of the ones she’d originally chosen. She doubted it would last her until she arrived home, what with this horrible experience. When had her life spiraled so out of control?
“Let me walk you to the checkout,” the manager said with a kind, weary smile. “Or did you need to get something else?”
Kerrianne knew he most certainly hoped she didn’t want anything else. “Okay,” she agreed meekly, grasping her cart and looking around for her children. For a moment she couldn’t spot Caleb, and terror roared into her heart. It was a familiar sensation since Adam’s death—one she often experienced in the dead of night when the phone rang and no one was on the other end or during a storm that awakened her with its ferocity. The feeling was the same as hearing that voice on the phone talking about Adam’s car accident. “Caleb,” she whispered.
Then her eyes fell on him near the end of the aisle, lying on the floor as he played cars with Ryan’s son, Tiger. Her heartbeat slowed. She wiped her sweaty palms on the jacket she’d set over her purse in the cart and moved toward him. “Get off the floor, Caleb,” she said automatically, fighting to keep her tone calm. “You’ll get dirty.”
“Boys are supposed to get dirty,” he said, but he climbed to his feet. Kerrianne smiled, recognizing the phrase she’d said to her sister, Amanda, at least a hundred times as she learned to deal with her son, little Blakey, who seemed to have an unusual talent for attracting dirt, even for a boy.
“Let’s go.” She smiled vaguely in Ryan’s direction without meeting his eyes and began walking to the checkout. The manager flanked her, as though determined to make sure she didn’t damage his store further. For an instant, Kerrianne envisioned him putting up her photograph and warning all the employees. The ridiculousness of the thought made her smile. The manager was just being helpful.
She was aware of being trailed by Ryan and his children. More aware than she wanted to be. The effort of keeping her gaze from his was taxing.
“Dad, he’s my very best friend in the whole world,” Tiger said behind them in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone around them. “He said I could come over and play.”
“Shhh, Tiger,” Ria said. “You’re yelling again. Sheesh!”
“Well, Dad?”
“We’ll see.”
Kerrianne walked faster to put some distance between them. She glanced down at Caleb, who was craning his neck to look around at Tiger. Caleb had a smug look on his face.
“I don’t like that girl,” Misty said in a whisper. “She’s a mean tattletale.”
“She doesn’t seem mean to me,” Benjamin said, overhearing them. “She only told what really happened.”
The manager went to a register. “Let me help you here.”
Kerrianne put her groceries on the counter. As he scanned the items, her eyes fell on the regular chocolate bars along the aisle. She reached for one and then for two more. It wasn’t semisweet baking chocolate, but it would do in a pinch. Hm, maybe a few more would be a good idea.
“Dad, look how much chocolate she’s buying,” Ria said behind her.
Kerrianne clenched her jaw and with a defiant shake of her head added three more chocolate bars to the pile, followed by a pack of gum. Her children’s eyes were huge, and Caleb actually licked his lips in anticipation. He turned to Tiger, who had come up next to him. “We must have been really, really good,” he said in a loud whisper.
“Dad, I want a candy bar,” Tiger yelled.
Kerrianne was glad when she’d paid for her groceries and was heading out the door. If she hurried, she wouldn’t have to see Ryan again or face the conflicting emotions in her heart.
A rush of cold air hit her outside, but Kerrianne was still feeling sweaty so she didn’t put her jacket on. The problem was, she couldn’t seem to remember where she’d parked the van. She usually parked far away from the store, not only for the exercise but because then the van was easier to spot. Today, though, she’d parked closer. Where was it? There were dozens of gold vans, but none that had the same black trim across the door.
“Do you remember where we parked?” she asked the kids.
Benjamin shrugged, but Misty pointed, her finger barely emerging from the sleeve of her new coat. “I think down that way.”
“Must be behind that green truck,” Kerrianne hurried into the parking lot. Sure enough, now that
she’d started toward the van, she could see the black trim on the end. “Here we go,” she said, hurrying toward it.
“Whee!” screamed Caleb, who’d grabbed onto the back of the cart.
“Mom, slow down,” complained Benjamin. Kerrianne grabbed his hand and helped him along.
While the kids scrambled inside the van, Kerrianne emptied the groceries into the back. Then she took her jacket and put it on, having finally cooled down. She spied one of the chocolate bars and opened one, breaking off a piece.
“Mom, I want some!” Caleb said.
“When we get home. I don’t want chocolate all over the van.”
“Aw. Can I hold it then?”
“Okay.” Kerrianne leaned inside the back of the van and tossed each of the kids a chocolate bar. “Misty, put on Caleb’s belt for me, all right?” She stood back and shut the hatch, taking another bite of chocolate. Not as comforting as semisweet, but it was calming all the same. She turned and nearly slammed into Tiger Oakman, his father standing behind him with a bag of groceries. Just her luck. All the empty spaces in the lot and he had to park near her.
“Hey, you guys are parked by us!” Tiger yelled.
Kerrianne opened her mouth to reply—and choked on her chocolate.
“Get in the truck, bud.” Ryan spoke to the boy but was looking at Kerrianne.
She swallowed. Ryan was so handsome with his wavy hair and mysterious with that rugged, unshaven face. She wondered what the roughness would feel like against her skin if he kissed her—no, not her, but some other woman who was looking for a relationship. Not someone like her who’d already found and loved a soul mate.
Guiltily, she looked not at him but at a place near his left ear. “Thanks for helping me out in there.”
“It’s not every day I get to see chocolate fighting back.” He glanced at the bar in her hand.
She laughed, feeling self-conscious. “Me either.” For a moment, they were quiet, and Kerrianne wondered if he might ask her out again. She hoped not. She might not be able to say no.
“Well, good-bye,” she said into the silence. With what she hoped was a nonchalant smile, she opened her door and climbed inside.
It wasn’t until she was driving from the parking lot that she noticed the wide smear of chocolate on her chin.
* * *
She didn’t feel like going home, so she drove to her parents’ spacious house in Alpine. The children laughed with unconcealed joy as they ran into the garage and through the back door without knocking, opening their chocolate bars on the way. Kerrianne followed them more slowly, puzzling over the emotions in her heart. Instead of going into the house, she waded through the leaf-covered backyard where a swing set sat motionless in the cold air. Her parents had bought the swing set almost twenty years ago when Tyler was turning five. It’d seen a lot of use since then, especially with the growing number of grandchildren, and her father kept it in good repair.
Kerrianne sat on the closest swing. Adam had proposed to her in this very spot. Tears filled her eyes at the memory, and for a moment, she could almost sense him near. She grasped a handful of air, rubbing it between her fingers before holding it to her heart. There was a strange sort of peace with the moment, one that too often eluded her of late.
“I’d sit down if I thought the swing would hold me.”
She looked up to see her father, Cameron Huntington, leaning against the pole of the swing set, the green eyes he had bestowed on Amanda and Tyler looking large behind his glasses.
“Hi, Dad.”
He reached under his suit coat and pulled a Tootsie Roll from the pocket of his white dress shirt, handing it to her. He always carried the candies for his grandchildren or for whoever needed a lift.
“Thanks.” She held the piece in her hand, feeling it as much as she had tried to feel the air a few seconds earlier.
“What’s up?” Cameron gave her his sincere, irrepressible grin that had helped spiral him to success at the PR firm where he was an executive.
She looked away. “Nothing.”
He squatted down in her line of sight, rubbing a thick hand over his round, balding head. “Are you all right?”
“I am . . . sometimes.”
“Then what?”
“It’s just . . .” She hesitated. Her father meant well and she loved him. She didn’t want him to worry about her or to ache on her behalf. She ached enough for both of them. “Sometimes when people ask if I’m okay, I have this urge to scream and cry and tell them I’m not okay, that I’ll never be okay again without Adam.” Tears slipped from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Sometimes I feel I’m just waiting for life to be over so I can see him again. But . . .” Now she looked up at the sky that was already darkening despite the early hour. “But sometimes I want to live and be happy. I get tired of being tired, of being lonely, of being scared.” Her voice broke, and she was crying in earnest now.
Cameron put his arms around her, and Kerrianne was suddenly grateful for his comforting bulk. “I’m sorry, honey,” he murmured. “I wish I could make it all better. I wish . . .” He suddenly didn’t seem to know what he wished, or maybe thought better of what he’d been going to say. “I think Adam would want you to be happy,” he said finally. “His time here on earth was over, but yours isn’t. Your life goes on, and you must make the best of it.”
Kerrianne nodded, too full of tears to speak. She knew all this, but saying it was oh so much easier than living it. And that’s what she had to do—live it. If only she could find a way. Her father patted her back a few more times as her tears slowed.
“I am making progress,” she said, wiping her face with her fingertips. “My two preschool classes are going well, and they keep me busy in the afternoons. Mornings, too, when I have to prepare crafts. I went to a play the other day, and I’m going somewhere with my friend Maxine tomorrow night.” She shrugged. “I guess we’re going to hang, or whatever it is they do these days.”
Cameron faked an exaggerated grimace. “I always hated that term. Hang—hang where? Always seems to imply that you’re doing nothing. Being lazy, unfocused.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
“Maybe.” He gave her another of his engaging grins, as well as another Tootsie Roll. “Well, I hope this Maxine doesn’t take you to a bar.”
A laugh burst from Kerrianne. “Don’t worry, Dad. It’s probably a get-together of the Independence Club.”
“What’s that?”
Kerrianne thought of the ultra positive Tina, the rotund Evie, and the sour-faced Bernice and smiled. “Just some women I know.” Thankfully, Bernice probably wouldn’t be invited along, but with Maxine, one never knew. “We’ll probably get frozen yogurt and catch a movie.”
“Sounds nice.” Cameron stood and waited until she opened the second candy before tugging her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go see your mother before she calls for backup.”
Knowing her mother, that was all too likely. They hurried across the brown leaves, cold and crisp beneath their feet.
In the spacious kitchen, Jessica Huntington had lined up her grandchildren at the counter on tall padded swivel chairs. They were eating their chocolate bars and twirling around on the seats like it was a playground. Kerrianne noticed her mother had also set freshly sliced fruit in front of the children, which had thus far been ignored. Their glasses of apple juice, however, set among scattered Tootsie Roll wrappers, showed signs of use.
Kerrianne’s mother, the backbone of their family, was an elegant woman who paid close attention to her appearance. Her short blonde hair was stylish, reminding Kerrianne often of Maxine, though her mother was taller and not quite as thin. Jessica ran their family like a mother hen, always knowing what was going on in her four children’s lives and never fearing to give advice when asked—and often when not. The siblings sometimes joked about her protectiveness, but they appreciated her more than they could ever say, especially now that they were older with families of their own. While Kerria
nne was growing up, Jessica had been the rule giver, and though she’d had Cameron’s full support with discipline, he had always followed her lead.
Jessica looked up, her frown causing the fine lines on her face to deepen. “Is everything okay?”
Kerrianne grinned at her father, glad that she no longer felt like screaming. That was how her emotions worked these days. Right after the accident, things were rockier longer and more often, but now she usually managed to steady herself after only a brief bout of self-pity.
“Fine,” she said. “Well, we had an adventure shopping, but I think they’ll be able to fix the shelf. The chocolate, however . . .” She trailed off.
“You should have seen it, Grandma!” Misty said, using her hands expressively as she talked. “There was chocolate everywhere! And there was this mean girl from school who said it was all our fault.”
“I met my best friend,” Caleb spoke up. “His dad’s the mailman. He always plays ball with me.”
“Oh, that’s who he is.” Misty only now made the connection.
“I didn’t think that girl was mean,” Benjamin said.
“Was too.”
“Okay, whatever.”
“Don’t give in,” Kerrianne told him. “You have to stick up for what you believe.”
Misty shook her head. “Benjamin’s my brother. He has to agree with me.”
The adults laughed, causing Misty to pout. Kerrianne hugged her. “Oh, sweetie, you disagree with him sometimes. He’s allowed to have an opinion, and it might not always be the same as yours.”
Misty shrugged and picked up her juice, not deigning to answer her mother.
“Caleb has that kid’s car,” Benjamin said. “He should give it back.”
Kerrianne looked at her youngest. No wonder he’d looked so smug at the store. “You have his car?”
“He let me keep it till he comes over,” Caleb said. “Don’t worry, Mom. He has lots of them. Like a hundred or a million or something.”
Kerrianne sighed. Now she’d have to talk to Ryan again. She couldn’t let Caleb keep the car. What if she put it in the mailbox with a note? Mentally she sighed and shook her head. Why was she afraid to face him? Was it because of the warmth that filled her every time those gray eyes lingered on her face?