“Takes after you,” Emma Kate commented. “You could never swing high enough.”
With a laugh, Shelby stood up. “I’m sticking closer to ground level these days.”
As she got up to help push the girls on the swing, Emma Kate thought that was a real shame.
• • •
SHE MANAGED TO SQUEEZE OUT some time to start a playlist, to pump a fist in the air when the consignment shop reported the sale of two cocktail dresses, an evening gown and a handbag. She adjusted her spreadsheet, calculated that she might be able to pay off another credit card with one more good sale.
She organized herself for the next day, her first day working at the salon, then pulled out her old hiking boots—ones she’d kept tucked away in her closet so Richard couldn’t insist she toss them out.
She dropped Callie off at Clay’s for a visit with Jackson as arranged and watched her daughter happily exploring her cousin’s little backyard fort before driving to the trailhead.
More she’d missed, she thought as she parked and got out. The quiet that let you hear birds calling and the breeze singing through the trees. The sharp smell of pine on air fresh and just cool enough. She hooked on her light pack—something else she’d tucked away from Richard.
She’d been taught from childhood to always carry water and some basics even on a short, easy hike. Cell service could be spotty—at least it had been the last time she’d taken this trail—but she’d tucked her phone in her pocket like always.
She didn’t want to be more than a call or text away from her daughter.
She’d bring Callie here, she thought, take her along the trail, point out the wildflowers, the trees, maybe spot a deer or a scurrying rabbit.
Teach her how to identify bear scat, she thought, smiling as she calculated Callie was just the right age to find that idea thrillingly disgusting.
She looked up at the clouds that skimmed over the tops of the higher hills. She might take her daughter on an overnight. Pitch a tent, show her the pleasure of sleeping out under the stars on a good, clear night, and telling stories around a campfire.
This was the true legacy, wasn’t it? The years traveling from place to place, the time in Atlanta, in Philadelphia, that was some other world altogether. If Callie chose one of those worlds, or another entirely, she’d have these roots to return to whenever she wanted.
She’d always have family in the Ridge, and a place to come home to.
Shelby turned when she heard the car, looked back, looked out to take in the view of the town rising and falling with the hills. And despite knowing she’d have to go through yet another painful confession, smiled when Emma Kate parked beside her.
“I almost forgot how beautiful it is here, just right here, with the town on one side, the trail on the other, so you can choose what you want and just go.”
“Matt and I hiked up to Sweetwater Cave the first time he came back with me. I wanted to see what he was made of.”
“That one’s a quad killer. How’d he do?”
“I’m still keeping him around, aren’t I? You’ve still got those hiking boots?”
“Broke in just right.”
“So you always said. Finally traded mine in last year. I try to get in a hike once or twice a week. Matt, he joined the gym over in Gatlinburg as he’s one for weights and machines. He’s making noises about finding a place to build one in the Ridge so he doesn’t have to drive all that way. Me, I’d rather just take the trail, and maybe fit in one of the yoga classes your granny’s got going on Saturdays at the day spa.”
“She didn’t say anything about that.”
“She’s got a lot going. We’d better get going, too, if we’re going to hike up to the Outlook.”
“Our favorite spot to talk about boys and parents and what annoyed us.”
“Is that what we’re doing now?” Emma Kate asked as they began to walk.
“In a way, I guess. I’ve come clean, you could say, with my family. You always were my family, too, so I’m going to come clean with you.”
“Are you running from the law?”
With a laugh, and because it felt right, Shelby took Emma Kate’s hand, gave their arms a swing. “Not the law, but it feels like I’ve been running from everything else. I’ve stopped now.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I’ve told you some. Now I’m going to tell you the rest. It started after Richard died. It all started before, but you could say it all fell on top of me after.”
She filled in pieces she’d left out, backtracking when Emma Kate blurted out questions. The climb steepened, winding up, making her legs ache in a good way. She caught sight of the rich feathers of a bluebird winging through some wild dogwood with its buds just peeking open, waiting, just waiting, to burst out full white.
The air cooled as they climbed, and still she felt the good, light sweat of the physical challenge on her skin.
It was easier, she realized, to say it all here, out in the open, where the hills carried her words away.
“First, I’m still not used to having somebody I know millions of dollars in debt—and it’s not your debt, damn it, Shelby.”
“I signed the loan papers on the house, at least I guess I did.”
“Guess?”
“I don’t remember signing any loan, but he’d push papers in front of me now and then, ‘Sign this, it’s nothing.’ I think half the time he just signed my name himself. I could maybe have gotten out of it if I’d gone through the court process or just tossed it all in and declared bankruptcy. I wasn’t going to do that. When the house sells, and it will, that’ll take the big weight off. And until it does, I’m chipping away.”
“Selling clothes?”
“I’ve made nearly fifteen thousand on clothes so far—not counting the fur coat I took back with the tags still on it—and I might make that much again before it’s done. He had a hell of a lot of suits, and I had things I never even wore. It was a different world, Emma Kate.”
“But your engagement ring was a fake.”
“I guess he didn’t see the point in putting a real diamond on my finger. He never loved me, I see that now. I was useful to him. I’m not altogether sure how, but I must’ve been useful.”
“Finding that safe-deposit box. That hardly seems possible.”
Looking back, she could see she’d been tilting at windmills. But . . . “I was on a mission. You know how it is.”
“I know how you are when you’re on a mission.” As the sun changed angles, Emma Kate adjusted the bill of her cap. “All that cash in there, and that doesn’t even get to the other identification.”
“He couldn’t have come by it legal. I’ve had some moments over that, but I didn’t steal it, or swindle it, and I’ve got Callie to consider. If it comes down to having to pay that back sometime, I’ll deal with it. For now, I’ve got some tucked away in the bank, and when I can see my way clear, I’m going to use it to get us a little house.”
“What about this private detective?”
“He’s wasting his time with me. I have to figure he’ll come to that on his own, or Forrest persuaded him.”
“Forrest can be persuasive.”
“He’s still mad at me, at least a little. Are you still?”
“It’s hard to be when I’m more fascinated.”
They walked in silence, along the familiar trail.
“Was the furniture really that ugly?”
Amused her friend would zoom in on that, Shelby laughed. “Uglier. I wish I’d taken pictures. It was hard and slick, and dark and angular. I always felt like I was visiting in that house, and couldn’t wait to get out of it. He never made the first payment, Emma Kate. By the time he died, the bank had already sent out notices I hadn’t seen.”
She paused to open her water bottle. “I’m thinking now he was in trouble. Something in
Atlanta, maybe. So he wrangled that big house up North without telling me that, either. Set it all up, then told me we were moving, he had some business opportunities. I went along. I guess that’s one way I was useful. I went along. Looking back, it’s hard to imagine how many times I did.
“I don’t even know who he was. I can’t say for sure I even knew his name. I don’t know now what he did, how he made the money he had. I just know none of it was real—not my marriage, not the life we lived.”
She stopped at the Outlook, felt her heart lift.
“This is what’s real.”
She could see for miles, the roll and rise of that deep, secret green, the dips of the valleys cupped between the rises—delicate as her old tea set. And the carpeted peaks swimming into the clouds so full of mystery and silence.
The light had gone soft as the afternoon wound down. She thought of how it looked at sunset, all brushed with gold, little tips of fire red as the mountains went to gray.
“I know, too, I took this for granted. All of it. I never will again.”
They sat on an outcropping of rock, as they had countless times over the years. Emma Kate pulled a bag of sunflower seeds out of her pack.
“It used to be gummy bears,” Shelby commented.
“I used to be twelve. I could go for some gummy bears,” she decided.
Smiling, Shelby opened her own pack, pulled out a bag. “I let Callie have them now and again. Whenever I’d open a bag of them, I’d think of you.”
“Something about gummies.” Emma Kate opened the bag, dived in. “You know, your family would help you with some of the debt—and I wouldn’t do that, either,” she said before Shelby could speak.
“Thanks. It helps you understand the why of that. I’m going to make a good life here. I know I can. Maybe I had to leave so I could come back, see what was real for me, and what wasn’t.”
“And you’ll sing for your supper after all.”
“That’s the icing. I really like Tansy’s Derrick.”
“He’s a winner. And what a face.”
“He sure is pretty. But—”
“What a body,” they said together, and laughed until they lost their breath.
“Now we’re sitting here.” Shelby let out a sigh, looked out over the spread of green. “Just like we used to and still talking about boys.”
“A puzzle that can never be truly solved.”
“So worth talking about. And both of us are doing—or for me about to do—what we used to wish for. Emma Kate Addison, RN. Do you love it?”
“I do. I really do. Hell, I never worked so hard in my life as I did to get that RN. I figured I’d work in a big hospital. And I did. I liked it, I liked it a lot.”
She looked back at Shelby. “The thing I didn’t know is I’d like working at the clinic even more, and I do. So maybe I had to go off awhile to see that.”
“Is Matt your icing?”
“He’s definitely icing.” Emma Kate grinned as she popped another gummy bear in her mouth. “And at least one layer of cake.”
“You going to marry him?”
“I don’t plan on marrying anybody else. Not in a rush about it, even if Mama wishes I would be. Things are really good as they are for now. I heard they’re going to do that big master bath for your mama.”
“She’s got sample books and magazine pictures. Daddy pretends he thinks it’s crazy, but he’s getting a kick out of it.”
Shelby took a sip of water, then took her time carefully screwing the cap back in place. “Griffin was over measuring the other day.”
“They’re looking forward to the demo. They’re both like little boys about the demo stage.”
“Hmm.” Wondering if she should bring it up—and out—Shelby looked out, caught a glint of a curving stream in a splash of sunlight. Talking about boys here, she thought, was tradition, after all.
“The thing is, while he was over at Mama’s, Griffin pretty much came straight out and said he was interested. In me.”
On a snort, Emma Kate popped another gummy bear. “I saw that one coming.”
“Because he makes moves on women a lot?”
“He makes moves like any normal guy, but no. Because he looked like he’d been struck by lightning when you walked into my mother’s kitchen that first day.”
“He did? I didn’t notice that. Shouldn’t I have noticed that?”
“You were too busy feeling guilty and awkward. What did you say to him?”
“I just fumbled around some. I can’t really be thinking about things like that.”
“But you are thinking about things like that.”
“I shouldn’t be. Richard just died. And that’s not even official.”
“Richard—or whatever the hell his name was—is gone.” As even the thought of him pissed her off, Emma Kate mimed balling something up, flicked it out toward the drop. “You’re here. Your marriage was unhappy, and basically a sham—you said so yourself. There’s no required mourning period here, Shelby.”
“I’m not mourning at all. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Aren’t you tired of doing what you tell yourself seems right? You’ve done that for about four years now, and it looks like it landed you in a mess.”
“I don’t even know him. Griffin, I mean.”
“I know who you meant, and that’s why they invented this thing we call dating. You go out somewhere, have conversations, discover what interests you might share and if you’re attracted to each other. What about sex?”
“Richard didn’t seem interested the last few months before— Oh, you meant with Griffin. God, Emma Kate.” Laughing, Shelby reached for gummy bears. “We haven’t even gone on that invention called dating. I can’t just have sex with him.”
“I don’t know why not. You’re both free, healthy and of age.”
“And look what jumping into sex with someone I barely knew got me last time.”
“I can promise you, Griff’s no Whatever-His-Name-Was.”
“I don’t think I know how to date anymore.”
“You’ll ease into it. The four of us can go out and do something.”
“Maybe. Griff wants to take us out for pizza, and I made the mistake of saying something about it to Callie. She’s asked me about it twice since.”
“There you go.” Problem solved to Emma Kate’s mind, she slapped Shelby on the leg. “You let him take the two of you for pizza, the four of us will have dinner or something. Then you can try a solo.”
“My life’s a pure hot mess yet, Emma Kate. I shouldn’t be dating anyone.”
“Honey, when you’re single, going out with a good-looking guy is living. Go have pizza,” she advised, “and see where it goes from there.”
“You’re going to get sick of hearing it, but I missed you so much. I missed this right here. Sitting in this spot, talking to you about anything and everything, and eating gummy bears.”
“It’s the good life.”
“It’s the best.” And caught up in it, she grabbed Emma Kate’s hand. “Let’s make a vow. When we’re eighty or so, if we can’t make the hike, we’ll get a couple of young studs to cart us up here so we can sit, talk about anything and everything and eat gummy bears.”
“Now, that’s the Shelby Pomeroy I remember.” Emma Kate swiped a finger over her heart. “That’s a vow. But they have to be hot young studs.”
“I thought that was understood.”
• • •
SHE MOVED INTO A ROUTINE, a contented one, working on her song list, practicing, weaving herself back into the fabric of the Ridge with her work at the salon.
She found it strange and wonderful how quickly it all came back, the voices, the rhythm, the easy gossip, the sights of the town and the mountains coming to life with spring.
As promised, demolition be
gan, so mornings before she left for work or errands, the house was filled with men’s voices, hammering, drilling.
She got used to seeing Griff and Matt—and maybe she was thinking about it, a little. Off and on. It was hard not to think about a man when he showed up at your house every day with a tool belt slung around his hips, and that look in his eyes.
“Sounded good this morning.”
She stopped on her way to get her Callie bag when Griff stepped out into the hallway from her old bedroom.
“Sorry, what?”
“You. You sounded good. Singing in the shower.”
“Oh. It’s a handy rehearsal hall.”
“You’ve got pipes, Red. What was the song?”
“I . . .” She had to think back. “‘Stormy Weather.’ It’s the forties.”
“Sexy in any decade. Hey, Little Red.”
He crouched down when Callie bolted up the stairs. “Mama’s going to work at Granny’s. I’m going to Chelsea’s ’cause Gamma works today, too.”
“Sounds like fun all around.”
“Can we have pizza?”
“Callie—”
“Deal’s a deal,” Griff interrupted. “I could go for some pizza tonight. Tonight work for you?” he asked Shelby.
“Well, I . . .”
“Mama, I want pizza with Grrr—iff.” To seal it, Callie climbed into his arms, then turned her head toward her mother, smiled.
“Who could say no to all that? That would be nice, thanks.”
“Six work for you?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Oh, well, car seat. It’s easier if we meet you there.”
“Right. Six o’clock. Have we got a date?” he asked Callie.
“We gotta date,” she said, and kissed him. “Let’s go, Mama. Let’s go to Chelsea’s.”
“Right behind you. Thank you, really,” Shelby said when Callie started down again. “You made her day.”
“It’s making mine. See you later.”
When he walked back into the work space, Matt raised his eyebrows. “Moving in on the local talent?”
“One step at a time.”
“She’s a looker. Got herself a very complicated life, bro.”
The Liar Page 18