Love Finds You in Snowball, Arkansas

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Love Finds You in Snowball, Arkansas Page 17

by Sandra D. Bricker


  “My best friend is Ashley Spriggs. She’s a girl. I never heard of somebody having a boy for a best friend.”

  “I’ve known Matt since I was a kid,” Lucy explained, using both hands to scoop up the chopped tomatoes and return them to the bowl. “He’s kinda like a big brother.”

  Annie leaned across the island with her hands cupping her mouth and said, “I think he’s cute.”

  “Me, too,” Lucy said, nodding, and she gave Matt a quick grin.

  “Would you wanna be my boyfriend, then?” she asked Matt seriously, her green eyes wide and round and shiny as quarters.

  “Well, I don’t live anywhere near Washington,” he said. “I live in Little Rock. But I could be your long-distance friend. How about that?”

  “No, thank you. I want a boyfriend.”

  “I hear ya,” Lucy commented without looking up from her chore.

  Matt snagged another chunk of zucchini and shrugged one of his shoulders. “You remind me a lot of someone, Annie.”

  “Yeah? Who?”

  “Lucy,” he said.

  “Honest?”

  “Honest. With your long, curly hair and your cute face.”

  “And we both have some red in our hairs, too.”

  “I wish I had as much red as you do,” Lucy told her. “I think it’s very pretty.”

  “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

  They all cracked up at that, but Annie didn’t seem to get the joke.

  “I do. People always talk about my hair.”

  “People usually talk about Lucy’s hair, too,” Matt told her. “But I don’t think she really knows how pretty it is. She’s always trying to do something to change it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like straightening it.”

  “Why would you wanna do that? People like our curls, Lucy. I think boys do, too.”

  “Oh,” Betty Sue cackled. “People and boys, huh?”

  “Yeah, Lucy. Don’t straighten away your curls anymore. Boys like them,” Matt said, and Lucy stuck her tongue out at him and wrinkled up her nose.

  “I’m not allowed to do that,” Annie announced, and she clicked her tongue at Lucy. “Mama says that’s disrespeckfilled.”

  “I think so, too,” Matt said with a nod. “Don’t be disrespectful, Lucy.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied for Annie’s benefit.

  Just as Lucy was about to start on the blue bowl of string beans, Wendy poked her head through the swinging door.

  “Matt, we’re starting a game of darts. Come on out!”

  “Could I watch?” Annie exclaimed, hopping down from her chair, taking Matt by the hand, and dragging him through the door behind Wendy.

  “What’s your name? My name’s Annie,” she heard the child ask.

  “I’m Wendy.”

  “Are you Matt’s girlfriend?” she asked, and the door swung shut for the final time before Lucy could hear Wendy’s reply. She leaned toward the door and strained to listen anyway.

  “That little girl is just as sweet as molasses, isn’t she?” Betty Sue commented as she took over the child’s barstool and began helping Lucy with the green beans.

  “She sure is.”

  But Lucy’s heart wasn’t into making polite conversation. In fact, she was stuck in the one-track groove of her own thoughts, wondering what was going on between Matt and Wendy. She couldn’t help noticing how Matt had perked up the minute Wendy came through the door.

  He just about left skid marks on the floor when she asked him to follow her.

  “Earth to Lucy.”

  She blinked hard and looked at Betty Sue.

  “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

  “About five minutes of something. You mean to tell me you didn’t hear a word of it?”

  “I apologize.”

  “Is it your ankle, sugar? Is it bothering you?”

  “Oh, no. In fact, it’s feeling a lot better.”

  “What is it, then?”

  Lucy’s eyes latched on to Betty Sue’s, and she considered confessing the truth about what had her so preoccupied.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said on a sigh, returning her focus to the string beans. “I’m just a little out of sorts.”

  “Matt and Wendy?”

  The knife froze mid-chop, and Lucy lifted her eyes with a slow and deliberate effort.

  “What about them?”

  “Let me tell you a little story, Lucy. About Dave and me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Dave was my brother Vern’s best friend when we were growing up. The two of them were inseparable until the time that Vern went away to college and Dave joined the military.”

  Lucy wondered how this applied to Matt and Wendy. It seemed about as personal to her situation as junk mail addressed to Occupant.

  “When I knew I wouldn’t have Vern as an excuse to see Dave every day, I went into quite a funk. And then one day I realized why.”

  “Because you loved him.”

  “Exactly. All of a sudden, I was faced with the idea of not having him in my life all the time.”

  “I’m not sure how this…you know…”

  “Do you think the funk you’re in could have anything to do with the fact that Matt’s attentions are elsewhere these days?”

  Her first inclination was to deny it, but Lucy couldn’t manage it. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh and tilted her head before looking Betty Sue in the eyes.

  “I know how selfish it makes me seem.”

  “I don’t think selfish is the right word.”

  “It’s just that Mattie’s always got my back, you know? And now it seems like I’ve lost him.”

  Betty Sue rounded the island and smoothed Lucy’s curls with a gentle hand.

  “Maybe that’s the way he feels about you and Justin, hmm?”

  “I guess so.”

  “And you feel that Justin is the one the Father picked out just for you?”

  “Absolutely,” Lucy replied in an instant, nodding vehemently.

  “Yes?”

  Then, for just a moment, she wasn’t all that sure about anything anymore. “Well, I thought so.”

  “Until?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll bet you do know.”

  Lucy’s heart was pounding hard, and she was almost too uncomfortable to look at Betty Sue.

  “No, I don’t,” Lucy insisted, and she hopped down from the chair and pulled the crutches into place under her arms. “I’m really tired, Betty Sue. Would you mind if I just go put my foot up and rest for a few minutes?”

  “Certainly not. You go ahead, and I’ll bring you something warm to drink in a little while.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lucy sat down at the first empty table on the other side of the kitchen door, and it felt to her as if she’d hiked a full mile to reach it. She was tired, body and spirit, and it occurred to her in that moment that she hadn’t even realized how much her heart was looking forward to going home. Her ivy-draped cottage called to her, from her tiny Tuscan kitchen to her big lumpy bed with the lavender comforter to the brown leather recliner positioned into the ice-blue corner of the living room. The familiarity of it all was calling her home.

  At the other end of the massive room, ping-pong balls bounced out their hollow rhythm on two side-by-side tables, and laughter erupted in front of the Wii game.

  Matt tossed a dart at the board on the far wall, and it landed very near the middle and the bullseye. When he turned toward Wendy, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into an embrace, and something heavy dropped into the pit of Lucy’s stomach.

  A fantasy started to burn out of control inside her. She knew she should put the fire out, but she didn’t.

  I’ll just toss the crutches to the floor and take off running across the room. About five feet before I reach her, I’ll take a hard leap toward her, wrap my hands around her neck, and take her down to the floor with me. Then—

  Lucy dr
opped her head into her hands and clamped her eyes shut. “Forgive me, Lord,” she whispered. “Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.”

  “Lucy? Are you crying?”

  Her eyes popped open, and Lucy came face to face with six-year-old Annie.

  “What?”

  “Are you crying?”

  “No, sweetie, I’m not crying. I was praying.”

  “What for?”

  “Forgiveness.”

  “Were you bad?”

  “Kinda.”

  “I know about being bad. It’s no good, is it?”

  Lucy popped out a single chuckle and shook her head.

  “It’s really not.”

  “Nice that God loves us anyway, huh?”

  “Very nice.”

  Right out of nowhere, the little girl leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck and began to pat her on the back.

  “It’s okay, Lucy. You’re not a bad lady. Sometimes good people just do bad stuff.”

  Lucy twirled her arms around Annie’s midsection and lifted her toward her, planting an enthusiastic kiss on her soft, warm cheek.

  “I really like you, Annie. You are such a cool kid.”

  “I know,” she replied. “I get that a lot. I like you, too.”

  Dave drove me back up to the cabin on a snowmobile so I could get some rest and take a shower before dinner, but all I really want to do is go home. At least the snow has finally stopped. That means we’ll probably be able to make the trip home tomorrow as planned. As beautiful as Snowball is, I want to head back to Little Rock right this minute, and I don’t really know why.

  I feel rejected and angry and sad and scared, but I can’t really put my finger on what the cause is. I know what Betty Sue thinks. She thinks it’s because Mattie’s thinking about someone else and I’m not the center of his universe anymore—and I’m such a selfish brat that I’m just not able to deal with that. Is she right? What is wrong with me?

  What I really need to do is focus on building things with Justin and let Mattie make his own relationship. I don’t want him to be lonely, I really don’t. But something inside of me is just rebelling against the idea of him with Wendy.

  Help me to get in touch with these feelings and have control over them, instead of the other way around.

  Needing You,

  Lucy B.

  Chapter Eighteen

  LUCY WAS JUST DABBING ON SOME LIP GLOSS WHEN THE EXPECTED RAP sounded at the front door.

  “Be right there, Dave,” she called.

  One last fluff to her hair and she tucked the tube of iced mocha into her pocket and limped toward the front door. When she tugged it open, she gasped.

  “Justin!”

  “I borrowed Dave’s chariot and came for you myself,” he told her, and she couldn’t help thinking that the way he grinned at her made him look very much like an actor in a toothpaste commercial. “Are you disappointed?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Hey.” Justin looked her up and down and then tilted his head. “Where are those crutches?”

  “Oh, I think I’m fine without them.”

  “Until you get an X-ray, I’m not sure you should take that chance. Where are they?”

  “In the hall by the bathroom.”

  She nodded him in the right direction, and Justin returned a moment later, crutches in hand.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Ready.”

  Lucy slipped into her parka and zipped it. As she adjusted the crutches under her arms, Justin lifted her hood and guided her out the front door. Although the stairs had been shoveled and sanded, she was still cautious as she headed toward them.

  “Hang on,” Justin told her, and he took the crutches from her and dropped them over the side of the stairs.

  “What are you—”

  Before she could complete the question, Justin lifted her into his arms and carried her down the steps. He carefully set her on the seat of the snowmobile and then went back for the crutches.

  “Hold tight,” he told her.

  When Lucy slid her arms around him, Justin brought his hands to rest overtop hers for a moment, squeezed them, and then turned over the ignition. The spicy scent of him brought back recollections of holiday meals and friendly banter across linen-draped tables, and she couldn’t help dropping Justin into the nostalgic seasonal mix. In her mind’s eye, there he was, seated at the Binoche family table, passing the pecan stuffing to her father, holding out Aunt Hildie’s chair.

  It was so cold outside. Pressing her cheek against Justin’s back, Lucy closed her eyes and concentrated on keeping her teeth from chattering and her body from shivering to the bone.

  She found herself thinking about that first kiss she and Justin had shared on this very trail, wondering why it wasn’t more clear in her memory. It should have been the single most important moment of her recent life, and yet she’d spent it wondering about Matt and Wendy.

  I hope he kisses me again, she thought as she nuzzled against his jacket for warmth. Kiss me again, Justin. Give me something to really remember.

  He let up on the acceleration, steered the snowmobile into a shoveled-out opening near the lodge door, and pulled out the key.

  “Let me help you,” he said as he grabbed the crutches and leaned them against the wall. Justin eased her around toward him and helped her stand. “Careful.”

  Kiss me again, she thought as she looked up into his hazel eyes. As if she’d issued an audible invitation, he leaned down toward her, pausing just inches away from delivering on her wish.

  “Lucy,” he whispered just before his lips met hers with a soft, warm touch.

  Lucy closed her eyes and enjoyed the kiss with gentle acceptance. When they parted, her eyelids were heavy and slow to open.

  Uh-oh.

  “Ready to go inside?” he asked her, and Lucy nodded.

  Justin slanted the crutches toward her, and Lucy pulled them into place. “Thank you.”

  He held the door open for her when she reached it, and Lucy grinned at him. But the moment she passed him, the smile evaporated and her face dropped like a burned-out candle.

  Matt figured Lucy’s pain quotient must be through the roof, judging from the look on her face as she hobbled through the door. He watched as Justin pressed his hand on the center of her back and guided her to a nearby table, helping her take off her parka and folding it over the chair.

  Justin leaned down and said something to her, and Lucy nodded before he unwound the scarf from her neck and creased it over his hand before setting it on top of her jacket.

  Despite her wounds and traumas, things were certainly working out the way Lucy had hoped. She and Justin had the look of a couple.

  Wendy caught Matt’s eye and beamed at him.

  “Let’s check out the buffet table,” she suggested, and they closed the gap between themselves and the food that was being set out.

  “Betty Sue, you do know how to lay out a spread,” Matt told her as he watched her carve slices of beef on a large silver tray.

  “This is our last supper together this week,” she replied. “I wanted to make it special.”

  “At least we think it’s our last supper,” Matt said, glancing out the window at the freshly falling snow.

  “Oh, it’s started again, Dave,” she called out to her husband, and everyone in the room turned toward the wall of glass.

  Reactions ran the gamut from oohs and ahs to groans of disappointment.

  “How are we going to get back to Little Rock?” Cyndi asked them.

  “Let’s just see how the weather plays out until morning,” Dave advised. “They’ll be working through the night to plow Seventy-Four.”

  “In the meantime,” Betty Sue declared, “let’s enjoy supper. Grab a plate and help yourself.”

  Matt was just about to ask Lucy what she’d like when he spotted Justin hovering over her for the same purpose. When he stepped up to the table and began to dress a dinner plate with Brussel
s sprouts, Matt touched Justin on the arm.

  “Is that for Lucy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She hates Brussels sprouts. Go with the broccoli.”

  “Oh. Thanks, man.”

  Matt coasted through the line and loaded up his own plate. Three slices of brisket; a mound of mashed potatoes and a dipper of gravy; one of Betty Sue’s spectacular biscuits; some broccoli and cheese.

  “Keep some of the rim free around that plate, Frazier,” Justin remarked as he passed. “So you can carry it.”

  Wendy giggled. “Leave him alone. He’s a growing boy.”

  Matt nodded his appreciation and then planted another biscuit on his plate for good measure.

  “Let’s take one of the small tables by the window,” Wendy suggested. “So we can talk.”

  Matt followed her and sat down across from her. One of the biscuits fell off his plate as he set it down.

  “He may have been right,” Matt said on a laugh as he plopped it back onboard.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say those words too loud. You never know what you could set into motion by telling Justin that he’s right.”

  Matt loved the way Wendy’s blue eyes twinkled when she joked with him. Her pearly white smile set off her eyes even more, and her spun-gold hair formed a perfect frame around her heart-shaped face.

  “I’ve had such a good time this week,” Wendy said, as she sliced her food into small pieces. “I just can’t tell you how many times I’ve thanked God that I came.”

  “It’s been a lot of fun. A month’s worth of it jammed into one week.”

  “That’s the truth,” she agreed.

  “I hope the snow lets up so we can get home tomorrow.”

  “About that.”

  Matt looked up when she paused. Wendy tried to smile, but it didn’t quite make the trip to her face.

  “About…going home?”

  “Well, sort of.”

  Matt waited for her to expound, but she seemed to be tongue-tied.

  “What’s up, Wendy?”

  “I’ve been wanting to say something to you,” she said, laying her knife and fork to rest across her plate. Folding her hands neatly in her lap, she took a deep breath and expelled it in a slow and deliberate puff. “But every time I’ve started to, we’ve been interrupted. Or the time wasn’t quite right.”

 

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