“I guess it’s never too early in the school year to be thinking about prom, huh?”
Marisa shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the last big thing for everyone to remember you by, you know? Then we graduate and go our separate ways. Or at least I’m going mine.”
The teenager was so full of plans . . . and hope. Just as Jessica had been. “You’re a hard worker, Marisa. Smart, too. I’m sure you’ll go far.”
“I plan to,” Marisa said. She pushed on the phone screen, then swiped at it till she came to the picture. “Wait till you see this dress. It’s, like, amazing.”
And the price was too, Jessica noticed when she peered at the phone. “It’s gorgeous, Marisa. It really is, and that red will look incredible on you.”
“Right? I thought it would be a good color for me. It looks slim-fitting, though. But I’m thinking that’s a good thing. It’ll force me to lose some weight.” She glanced down at her body, which was closer to chubby than slender, but not overly so. “Which means I’ve got to cut down on sweets.”
“Don’t we all?” Jessica said guiltily, still full from Lydia’s blueberry fry pie à la mode. “Which reminds me . . . it was sweet of you to help me out in the shop that one crazy day.” She pushed up from the couch. “I still owe you for that and for tonight, too. Let me get a check for you.”
“Oh, and we’re having our powder-puff football game next week, so we’re practicing after school a lot,” Marisa said as she followed Jessica into the kitchen. “But if you need me for anything, just text me, okay? I’ll try to work it out.”
“You’re first on my list.” Jessica nodded. “Actually, you’re the only one on my list,” she added as she fished through her purse for her checkbook—Marisa’s preferred form of payment so she wouldn’t spend the money so easily.
“Good. I’ve got to pay for the dress, you know.”
“The dress . . . and shoes.”
“Oh, yeah . . . shoes.”
“And earrings.”
“And a necklace?” Marisa’s face scrunched.
“With the neckline on your dress, I’d say so.”
“You’re probably right. I need a cute little clutch, too.”
“I may have one you could borrow.”
“Really? That’d be great. . . . Oh!” Marisa’s eyes suddenly opened so wide, Jessica thought for sure she was about to relay some juicy gossip from her aunt’s Hair and Now Salon. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you the big news of the evening.”
“This evening?” Jessica looked at her quizzically.
“Yeah, some guy showed up here.”
“Some guy?”
Her sitter’s head bobbed vigorously. “Yeah, I thought it was you coming back for your keys or something because the doorbell rang like right after you left. But then I opened the door and it wasn’t you,” she said all in a rush. “It was a guy. A really hot guy.”
“You keep saying ‘guy,’ Marisa. Who was he? Did he say what he wanted?”
“He just wanted to know if you were home. His name was Drake. Or Dirk. Or—no. Derek.”
“Derek? Derek was here?” It was crazy how Jessica’s heart stopped at the mention of his name. But then, it had to be because she was so surprised. Or maybe stunned was a better word for it, she thought as she reached out for the back of a kitchen chair to steady herself.
“So you do know him,” Marisa concluded from her reaction.
“I, uh—well, I used to, yeah.”
“Well, you might want to get to re-know him, Jessica. Like I said, he was really—”
“Hot.”
“Yeah, even for an old guy.”
“I’m sure,” she said, slowly coming out of her shock and forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Nine dollars an hour times eight and a half hours . . . “Did he, uh . . . did Derek mention if he was going to stop back?”
Marisa shook her head. “And he didn’t leave a number either.”
“Okay. Just wondering,” she said as casually as she could while she wrote out the check. Tearing it from her checkbook, she handed it to Marisa. “Here you go. More money for your prom fund.”
“Awesome.” Marisa folded the check and put it in her back pocket. “Every bit helps.”
“Yeah, it’s a much more expensive proposition than when I went to prom. I can’t imagine what it’ll cost when it’s Cole’s turn to go.”
“Plus, I just remembered, if I go with a group instead of a date, I’ll have to pay for my ticket and meal, too.”
“Even more money.” Jessica cringed. “Well, at least it’s still a long way off. And who knows? You could be crazy in love by that time.” She smiled.
“Were you crazy in love with your prom date?”
“Me? Oh, I . . .” Jessica felt her cheeks heat and was surprised at the involuntary reaction. “That was eons ago, Marisa.” But even as she said the words, the unforgettable image of Derek Reeves as an eighteen-year-old decked out in the tux her aunt had rented for him flashed across her mind. Even then he’d caught the eyes of most of the other girls with his startling good looks. Apparently he hadn’t changed much if Marisa’s reaction to his visit was any indication. “Actually, you’ve met my senior prom date.”
She could tell Marisa’s brain was on overload, trying to connect the dots. “I have? It’s not the UPS guy who comes in the shop, is it? He flirts with you constantly.”
“Paul Haskell?” Jessica laughed. “He flirts with everyone. No, you met my prom date tonight.”
“No way. The hot guy?”
Jessica nodded. “But don’t get too excited. We went as friends.”
“That’s all?” Marisa looked crestfallen, her eyes and mouth drooping simultaneously.
“Pretty much,” Jessica replied, knowing she was hedging as she crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to say more. The truth was, she and Derek had never been “just friends.” Ever since junior high, they’d been the very best of friends. And maybe they would’ve been something more if graduation hadn’t come along. After high school, good decisions took him one way. Bad decisions took her another. Time passed, things changed—and as it turned out, they weren’t the best of friends anymore.
“So you weren’t dating anyone your senior year, then?” Marisa asked, apparently not short on questions.
“Not steadily,” Jessica admitted. She’d never needed to with Derek around, always available.
Back during her school days, her friends had called Derek “Go-To,” as in Jessica’s go-to guy, and were sort of envious he was in Jessica’s life. But had he really had a choice? After all her aunt had done for him?
Even though Derek’s parents were both alive, he’d been more of an orphan than Jessica was. It was no secret that his dad was the town drunk, abusive and completely irresponsible. It was a wonder his mother put up with it. And a mystery why she took her husband’s side over her son’s.
Which always tugged at Rose’s heart.
Aunt Rose had welcomed Derek into the shop anytime he wanted and found repair jobs he could do to earn some money. She also took him to church and fed him so many dinners that all of his favorite dishes were ones she made.
“What was prom like way back then?” Marisa asked, then quickly bit her lip. “Sorry. I mean, I’m not, like, saying you’re old or anything.”
Jessica had to grin. “You’re right. It was a while ago. But I can still remember way back then, believe it or not.” Without even having to stop and close her eyes, she could easily recall the night in May so many years ago. Quite vividly.
“Well?” Marisa’s mouth gaped.
“Well . . . ,” Jessica drawled. “We were all dressed up, of course. My dress was long and a shimmering blue satin. I really liked it, I remember, just like I’m sure you’ll love yours.”
“Could you tell if he—Hot Guy Derek—liked it too?”
“I think so. He mentioned that he did.”
Truthfully, the moment Derek saw her in the spaghetti-strap gown
, he’d appeared instantly anxious. A side of him she’d never seen before. Having to be a survivor as a result of his home life, he’d always been the kid who could talk to any adult and handle any situation. But that prom night he seemed nervous simply opening the car door for her and awkward trying to lead her with his hand on the small of her back. Even when he was holding her hand to help her along as she wobbled in her heels, his palms were clammy and sweaty.
But as the night developed and the hours flew by, an unexpected pull began to surface between them. She couldn’t get over how Derek seemed to grow so mature and manly in one evening. He must’ve felt the same because he kept looking at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever laid eyes on—and that was even before she was crowned prom queen.
“So then you danced, of course.” Marisa started to tell her own version of Jessica’s prom night.
“We did. Which was fun. And then, you know, he took me home.” She cut directly to the chase.
“Oh, no.” Marisa sounded truly disappointed. “He didn’t even try to kiss you good night? After the great dress? He didn’t want to be more than friends? That’s a bummer.”
“Well, let’s say he tried to kiss me,” Jessica admitted.
“And you didn’t let him?”
“Did I say that?” She made a fuss of putting her pen and checkbook back into her purse, remembering how it had been just the opposite.
She hadn’t hesitated a second when she and Derek reached her friend’s house, where all the girls were spending the night after prom. Instead of saying good night on the porch, she let him pull her back down the steps and around the side of the house.
There, underneath a trellis, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of first-bloom lilacs, with a full moon beaming, they’d stood holding hands, gazing at each other in a way they never had before.
She could still recall how her full heart felt near to bursting in anticipation of a first real kiss, all her years of innocence blending with a curious passion she hadn’t ever really given in to before. She parted her lips in preparation for his mouth on hers. He bent his head and started to step closer. But then—
“What happened?” Marisa asked.
“Huh?” Jessica blinked, jogged from the memory.
“I said, aren’t you going to tell me what happened?”
“Uh, yes. What happened is that we were standing at the side of a friend’s house holding hands and he was just about to kiss me. But as he moved closer, he tripped over the garden hose lying on the ground and came flying at me.” She snickered, remembering. “All five feet eleven inches of him. Instead of our lips meeting, his teeth crashed against mine.”
“You’re kidding.” Marisa winced sympathetically, but her eyes were twinkling with amusement.
“No, I’m not. The jolt knocked us to our senses and out of the mood, of course. We just stood there rubbing our mouths, laughing like crazy.”
“That’s funny. Sounds like you had some kind of special friendship.” Marisa paused, looking thoughtful. “So then did you two, you know? Ever try it again? Ever hook up?”
“Hook up?” Jessica pretended not to understand.
“Well, I mean, did you end up liking each other—or was it just prom?”
“You sure are nosy tonight, you know that?” Jessica frowned at Marisa, who only giggled. “And unlike you, this girl needs to get her beauty sleep. Plus, didn’t you say you need to study for a test?”
“Okay. I get it.” Marisa smiled. “Private stuff.” She grabbed her jean jacket off the back of the kitchen chair and started for the front door.
“By the way,” Jessica called after her, “did Derek say how long he’ll be in town?”
“No. But if he shows up again and I’m here, do you want me to give him your number or anything?”
Jessica nodded. “Sure, you can.”
“Like I said before, maybe you should get to re-know him.”
Jessica chuckled. “Thanks for the advice, Mother Marisa.”
“I do my best.” Her sitter shrugged as she reached for the doorknob. “My grandma always tells me I’m an old soul.”
“But not too old to text me and let me know you got home okay.”
“Will do.” Marisa waved assuredly as she slipped out the door.
Jessica’s hair was still partially damp when she crawled into bed. She’d been too whipped to dry it all the way and figured she’d deal with the frizz and flyaways in the morning. Her down comforter had never felt so soft and gratifying to her weary bones as she curled up underneath it. But even though her body was crying out for sleep, her mind wouldn’t stop racing. Wouldn’t stop thinking about Derek, wondering about his visit.
Was he still in town? Would he stop back again? Why hadn’t he let her know he was coming?
She hadn’t laid eyes on him in three years, and even then his visit to Sugarcreek had been a short one. He’d come from Wisconsin to close on his parents’ house after his mom had passed away. He’d stopped by to see Aunt Rose and had taken time to play T-ball with four-year-old Cole that weekend. The four of them had also enjoyed a pot roast dinner—one of his favorite meals—compliments of Aunt Rose.
But then, after that, Jessica hadn’t heard from him again. Not until his card arrived around the time of Rose’s funeral. He’d sent his sympathies, explaining that he would’ve been there if he could’ve taken time off. Unfortunately, he’d been the arresting officer in a trial that was going on and couldn’t get away.
Though she would’ve liked to see him, to her way of thinking, he didn’t need to make the long trip to Ohio to pay his respects. She knew what he felt for her aunt was undeniably special. He’d have to have changed a whole lot not to grieve and remember her aunt in his own way.
Still . . . now that he had made the trek to Sugarcreek, she found her mind going to weird places. Places where there was no reason for her thoughts to go. Wondering if he still looked the same. Wondering if she would look the same to him. Wondering what if things had been different once upon a time . . .
Which was silly to even think about. And besides, she needed to get her rest.
Snuggling deeper under the comforter, she closed her eyes tightly and tried to concentrate on something calming, soothing. Maybe something green and lush? Or, no, something blue . . . like the blue ocean underneath a sunny blue sky with the sound of the waves going in and out, and in and . . .
“Mom?” Cole suddenly cried out from across the hallway. “Mommy?”
Jessica’s eyes flew open and her feet hit the floor. She’d dashed out of her room and into his before she even knew what she was doing.
“I’m here, Cole. Everything’s okay, honey.”
She hated seeing her poor little guy cowering in his bed, blankets all the way up to his chin. His eyes were as wide as the full moon beaming through the window, his lips thin and trembling.
“You’re okay, honey,” she said, rubbing his covered shoulders as soothingly as she could. But he certainly didn’t look as though he believed her. “Was it a bad dream?”
Stiff with fear, he was barely able to nod, and her heart went out to him. By day, he always tried to be her funny, brave guy. But lately the nights had him scared in a way he’d never been before. Settling down onto the bed, she lay next to him and wrapped her arms around him, hoping to help his rigid body relax.
“I dreamed there was a fire.” He turned his head, his breath warm on her face. “Sparky couldn’t get out of his house.”
“Sparky?” Was that a character on one of the shows he watched? She couldn’t recall.
“The fire dog. He came to our school for fire week. We all got to pet him.”
“Oh, that Sparky.” How could she forget? “Hear the Beep Where You Sleep” had been the slogan from fire prevention week and had prompted the testing of all the smoke alarms throughout Aunt Rose’s place. They’d also come up with an exit plan in case of fire. “Cole, I’m sure Sparky is just fine,” she assured him. “Really, honey.�
��
But he acted like he didn’t even hear her. “It wasn’t beeping where Sparky was sleeping.”
“It was just a dream, Colester. You know the firemen at the firehouse always make sure the smoke alarms beep anywhere Sparky sleeps. Just like it beeps in your room.” She gently pushed back the hair from his forehead. “We did the test, and it beeped,” she repeated, figuring fear for Sparky’s safety was a manifestation of fear for his own. “You heard it, remember?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And see the light on the smoke alarm? It looks like a little green button?” She pointed to the ceiling.
“Uh-huh.”
“That means it’s working just fine.”
With all the proof presented to him, relief flooded his expression. She could feel him start to relax in her arms. “So all is good, my son, and you can get started on lots of sweet dreams now.” She kissed his forehead and got up from the bed.
But instead of settling in, he suddenly felt brave enough to come out from under the covers. Tossing them back, he turned on the lamp on his nightstand and stood up on the bed.
“Cole, what are you doing? This isn’t playtime,” Jessica said, thinking he was going to start jumping up and down. “It’s sleep time. Now,” she said a bit sternly.
“I know. I just want to see this,” he said as he reached for the dream catcher she’d hung at the top of his headboard. Snatching it from the hook, he made a raucous bounce down onto the mattress with the dream catcher in his hands. Holding it under the lamplight, he studied it closely.
Jessica had gotten the dream catcher for him the week before, and one night at bedtime they’d read about Native Americans and how they believed the air was filled with good dreams and bad ones. They also learned how, according to legend, the dream catcher would allow good dreams to pass through the center hole to the person who was sleeping. The bad dreams, however, would be trapped in the web around the hole, where they would perish in the light of the dawn.
Cole had been sold on the idea that night and seemed soothed by the lore as they ceremoniously hung the dream catcher on his headboard. But now he didn’t appear so sure.
The Sisters of Sugarcreek Page 10