by Amy Vastine
“I heard that you have some experience sewing drapery, and Charles is in desperate need of some new window treatments. Would you be willing to help him out? I’ve chosen some lovely fabric, but I’ve never been very good on a sewing machine.”
If by experience she meant the one time Josie roped Faith into helping sew drapes for the high school drama club, then, yes, Faith had experience.
“My last clients weren’t very discriminating. I’m not sure I’m the kind of seamstress you’re looking for.” Faith had a difficult time coming out and saying no to people, but that didn’t stop her from hoping they would change their minds if she gave them an out.
“You did a wonderful job! Everyone raved about how beautiful and realistic the sets were for the fall play.”
Mrs. Hackney would not be changing her mind. For years the woman had been playing matchmaker for her son. He was a nice guy, but not someone who made the butterflies in Faith’s stomach come to life. Shouldn’t the man she was going to marry at least make her heart beat a little faster? Charles and his ho-hum personality were more likely to cause her to flatline.
Always the pleaser, Faith agreed to help and Mrs. Hackney was overjoyed. Charles shifted uncomfortably and said nothing. His mother suggested they talk after church to set up a time to meet and go over the design.
Faith glanced back at the pickup as the Hackneys got in their car. Sawyer gave her a thumbs-up and Dean was definitely smirking. Seeing him smile was almost worth the embarrassment.
The sign outside the flower shop clearly said Closed, but Faith knocked on the bright green door like she did every Sunday. The window boxes were filled to the brim with a beautiful mix of verbena, petunias and white snow mountains. It smelled like heaven.
Faith heard the lock slide open and was greeted by Harriet herself. “Good morning, Sugarplum. Come on in.”
Harriet Windsor had been Faith’s mother’s best friend. When their mom left, Harriet had stepped up and done her best to fill the hole she’d left in the kids’ lives. Her sage advice had been the only way Faith had survived puberty in a house with two clueless males. Sawyer still had the picture of the two of them in his room from when Harriet had gone as his date to the Boy Scouts’ Mother/Son Dinner and Dance.
“I set aside some arrangements I thought you might like, but go ahead and look around while I finish getting ready.” Harriet’s cheeks were rouged but her eyes and lips were bare. Not to mention, her caramel-colored hair wasn’t nearly big enough. There was still plenty of teasing and hair-spraying to be done.
Faith spent a minute poking around but settled on two of the bouquets Harriet had put together. She was the expert, after all. Faith found her upstairs in the bathroom of her small apartment above the shop.
“I’ll take the ones you picked out.”
Harriet smiled at her through the vanity mirror as she applied her mascara. “Good choice. How are you doing?”
Faith’s eyes fell to the baby blue tiled floor. “Fine.”
Harriet knew better. “Missing your daddy or stressed out about the return of one Mr. Dean Presley?”
“You heard, huh?”
“I’m sure half the town has heard by now. No one thought he’d ever come back here. Are you worried about seeing him at church?”
“He’s been staying at the farm,” Faith confessed.
Harriet set down her applicator brush. “He’s what? You’ve seen him already? Has he been nice to you?” She was the only person who knew how horribly things had ended between Faith and Dean. Faith had cried on her shoulder more times than she could count.
“It’s been awkward. It’s like nothing and everything’s changed since the last time I saw him. And he wants Sawyer.”
“What?”
“Dean wants him to come to Nashville with him to record some music. He heard him sing at the Sundown on Friday.”
“Sawyer wouldn’t leave you.”
“I know.” Faith swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. “He’s not going to go. We have NETA coming to do the accreditation visit next weekend. Summer camps start in a month. He can’t go—I can’t do this without him.”
Harriet went back to her makeup. “You don’t need to worry about any of it. Everything is going to work out. You got two angels up in heaven looking out for you.”
Faith wanted to believe that. “Thanks again for the flowers.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Can I still count on you to help me out on Tuesday?”
Faith didn’t feel right taking the flowers for free and Harriet refused to take her money, so once or twice a month, Faith helped at the shop in exchange for the bouquets. This Tuesday was busier than usual, but Faith couldn’t say no.
“I’ll be here.” She started to go. “Sawyer and Dean are waiting for me. I’ll see you at church.”
“Hey,” Harriet said to get her attention one last time. “Don’t let him feed that guilt of yours. You understand me?”
Faith nodded and gave Harriet a reassuring smile even though deep down she knew it wasn’t possible. Dean had been home less than forty-eight hours and her guilt was back with a vengeance and a voracious hunger.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“IT’S FUNNY HOW this town can seem familiar and yet so foreign at the same time,” Dean observed as he and Sawyer waited for Faith.
“It’s not funny how long my sister takes when we need to be somewhere.”
“Be happy you have a sister to be annoyed with.”
Sawyer stopped complaining. Chagrined, he took a deep breath and apologized. Dean couldn’t be mad. He knew firsthand how easy it was to take people for granted.
Dean’s gaze drifted back down the street. He wasn’t surprised the bank where his father had worked for the last thirty years hadn’t changed. There was a new gas station on the corner. The old-fashioned gas pumps were a nice touch and made it look like it had been there forever. The movie theater had gotten a facelift and the sign above the hardware store was new. The barber shop where his mom had taken him to get his hair cut as a child had closed and a nail salon stood in its place.
“Here she comes,” Sawyer said, pulling Dean’s attention away from comparing this Main Street to the one in his memory.
Dean knew who the flowers were for the moment he saw Faith making her way to the truck with bouquets in her arms. A familiar unease settled in his stomach.
What could his mother really do to him if he didn’t show up for church? She had nothing to hold over him. She couldn’t ground him or take away his phone. He didn’t live under her roof or have to follow her rules. He was a grown man who could decide where he wanted or didn’t want to go.
He didn’t want to go to the church. He didn’t want to be within a hundred feet of the cemetery. Even sitting in the parking lot would be too close. He’d have to walk back to the farm. He didn’t care how far it was.
“Did you tell Harriet you couldn’t help her on Tuesday because you rescheduled Freddy’s therapy?” Sawyer asked his sister as he got out of the truck so she could get in.
“I don’t want to cancel on her. She asked me to enter the inventory information into the computer. I’ll run over there at lunchtime and get it done quick.”
Dean was again reminded of his sister. Addison had worked at the flower shop all through high school. She had wanted to become a botanist. Dean hated that she’d never got the chance to live out any of her dreams.
Sawyer groaned as he started up the truck. “You have a full day of therapy scheduled. All the horses have to be prepped.”
“I’ll be back in time to help with the horses,” Faith assured him.
“And you’re still going to go to Lily’s award ceremony, aren’t you?”
“I promised her. She got into National Honor Society. That’s a big deal.”
/> “Can you skip Bible study then?”
Faith looked down her nose at her brother. “You don’t skip Jesus, Sawyer.”
“You’re burning the candle at both ends, Faith.” He sounded sincerely worried about her.
Dean wondered how often she stretched herself so thin.
“I’ll be fine. As long as I have you to help me out.”
She relied on him, but Faith needed Sawyer more than he needed her. If he was going to get Sawyer to follow him to Nashville, Dean needed to find a way to break their co-dependent relationship.
The potent scent of the flowers started to make him nauseous as they drove to the church on the outskirts of town. There had been so many flowers at Addison’s funeral they had overwhelmed the small space. Dean remembered wanting to rip all the arrangements apart and crush every petal. A funeral wasn’t a joyous occasion no matter how it was dressed up. There was nothing to celebrate, and no sweet-smelling rose could make up for the hole in Dean’s heart.
As soon as the towering white steeple of Grass Lake Community Church came into view, Dean thought about jumping out of the moving vehicle. He felt trapped and escape was the only solution.
“I want to talk to Pastor Kline before the services start,” Sawyer said. “Dean, can you help Faith carry the folding tables out back for the picnic?”
The tension in Dean’s shoulders was so great he feared he wouldn’t be able to move once the truck came to a stop. He needed to man up; he couldn’t succumb to this anxiety.
“I’ll take care of it,” he replied in a voice that sounded much more composed than he felt. The parking lot was half full and his father’s Buick was parked right up front. Dean’s mom was probably in charge of the picnic today.
He focused on the task at hand and not the way the rolling hills surrounding the church looked exactly the same as they had that late-summer day twelve years ago.
With Faith’s help, he unloaded the two tables. Stacked on top of one another, they were bulky but not impossible to move. Faith left her flowers in the truck and lifted her end.
As they came around the side of the building, the first person they bumped into was Dean’s father. Ted Presley was a huge hulk of a man. A former Olympic weightlifter, his neck was as thick as a tree trunk.
“I never thought I’d see the day.” He greeted his son with a side-hug before taking the tables from them and carrying them behind the church by himself. “Look who I found, Marilee.”
Dean’s mother stopped what she was doing to throw her arms around her son. Even though they visited him in Nashville all the time, there was something about being together in this place that made this reunion more emotional than it needed to be.
She let him go and gave him a quick once-over. “Jeans? Really?”
“I’m working with what I got here, Mom. I drove down to Birmingham for a show Friday and was supposed to sleep in my own bed that night, but my car had other ideas.”
“Perhaps there was an even higher power at work.” Marilee turned her attention to Faith and pulled her in for a hug like she had Dean. “Hi, honey. Thanks for taking him in and for baking cookies for the picnic. I may have sampled one already.”
“I hope you donated,” Dean said, wishing he could have another one of those chocolate-and-whiskey-flavored bites of joy. “She doesn’t give those away for free.”
His mom swiped her golden brown bangs out of her face. She was the complete opposite of his father. Where he was thick, she was thin. Her dark brown eyes and tanned skin were in complete contrast to his fair skin, blond hair and blue eyes. “I think the weeks of organizing I’ve done for this picnic are worthy of one cookie, Dean Francis.”
Faith smiled wider than he had seen the whole weekend. “She can have as many cookies as she likes. I’m going to change the flowers. I’ll see you inside.”
Dean watched as Faith walked away. He knew where she was going and it made his heart heavy. How did she survive in this town, surrounded by constant reminders of what was lost? She had more reasons than he did to leave it all behind. Yet here she was setting out to put flowers on his sister’s grave.
“She brings Addison flowers every Sunday without fail,” his mom said. “Now, she does the same for her dad. What I wouldn’t give to take away some of that poor girl’s grief.”
Something that felt very much like guilt settled on Dean’s shoulders. He tried to shake it off. It wasn’t his fault Faith was in mourning. A voice in his head reminded him that he hadn’t ever done anything to ease her pain, either, but that was because he was much too good at exacerbating it.
“Can I help you set something up before services start?” he asked his mom, pushing all those feelings back into the box where they belonged.
She put her hand on his face and gazed up at him with nothing but love. “It makes me happy to have you home.” She gave him a little pat on the cheek. “Even if I have to sit next to you in church when you’re wearing jeans.”
* * *
“HARRIET OUTDID HERSELF this week, don’t you think?” Faith said as she slipped the mix of wildflowers into the granite vase beside Addison’s headstone. “I hope you aren’t mad I gave my dad the ones with the red tulips. Red’s his favorite color and these purple ones remind me of the bluebells we used to pick.”
She brushed debris off the headstone and ran her fingers over Addison’s birthdate. It wouldn’t be long before Addison would be gone longer than she’d been alive. It was so hard to believe that a dozen years had already passed.
“So...your brother’s here. I know. I can’t believe he showed up, either. I’m pretty sure he still hates me. He tries to be nice, but the hostility is always there just under the surface.”
Faith often wondered if Addison would have been glad that Dean wanted nothing to do with Faith after the accident, or if she would have regretted being so angry about their relationship. She supposed it didn’t really matter since she’d never get an answer anyway.
“He likes Sawyer, though. Thinks he could be ‘a star.’ Feel free to laugh about that for a second.” The whole thing was ridiculous. Dean had shown up and was quickly upending Faith’s life. “Can you picture Sawyer’s face on a tour bus? Or his songs on the radio? Goofball Sawyer? The same guy who still thinks fart jokes are funny. I cannot imagine what your brother is thinking.”
He thought Sawyer was talented, which he was. But he neglected to see how important Sawyer was to the farm and to the children who came to Helping Hooves.
“Oh, and Mrs. Hackney wants me to sew Charles’s drapes and marry him and have his redheaded children. Go ahead and enjoy a good laugh over that, too.”
Anything that caused Faith to want to crawl under a rock and run away in fear would have made Addison giddy. Faith liked her comfort zone and Addison had a rebellious streak. She’d always pushed Faith’s limits, getting her to do things she never would have risked otherwise. Faith’s role in their relationship had been to make sure rebellion didn’t turn into recklessness. They had balanced each other out that way...until that one night.
The church bell rang, signaling it was time for the service to begin. “Wish me luck this week. I think I’m going to need it.” Faith stood and shook the grass from her dress. “And if you have any influence up there, maybe put in a good word for me?”
She had asked the same from her father. As Harriet had pointed out, Faith had two people up in heaven looking down. A little help would be nice.
The choir’s joyful hymn welcomed everyone who entered through the doors of the white-clapboard church. Lined up behind the choir, along the back wall, were the enormous golden organ pipes. The long and sharp notes of the organ complimented the singers beautifully.
Faith slid into the pew with Sawyer and Harriet. The Presleys sat across the aisle. Happily sandwiched between her two men, Mrs. Presley gave Faith a smil
e and a wink. Dean, on the other hand, was pale as a ghost. He wrung his hands as his leg bounced.
Pastor Kline led everyone in an opening prayer from the pulpit. Faith bowed her head but her gaze kept sliding over to Dean, who sat with his eyes closed and his jaw clenched tight. He seemed to get more agitated by the second until he finally stood up and bolted down the aisle.
Against her better judgment, Faith followed him out the doors and into the parking lot. She spotted him by Sawyer’s pickup, bent over with his hands on his knees. He righted himself as soon as he saw her.
“Try breathing through your nose. It’ll help slow things down.” Even though it wasn’t very hot outside, his shirt was wet with sweat.
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine,” he said, placing his hands on his hips and not looking the least bit fine.
Faith remembered the first time she’d shown up for church after Addison’s funeral. Every song on the organ had sounded like some ghoulish lullaby and her imagination had played tricks on her. She had thought she’d heard Addison calling her from the cemetery.
With time, however, the church became a place of comfort again. Faith had found herself looking forward to attending services and speaking with Pastor Kline. When her dad died, everyone in the congregation came to support her and Sawyer. It had meant the world.
“How do you do it? How do you come here every Sunday? Doesn’t it eat you up?” he asked.
“It did right after Addison died, but it’s gotten easier over time. Eventually, I moved past the painful memories and embraced the good.”
Time wasn’t something Dean seemed to want to give Grass Lake, though. His absence made Faith feel responsible for the Presleys losing both of their children. Dean was alive and a short drive away, but never home where Faith knew his parents wanted him to be.