by Sarra Cannon
Johnny Pruett eyes me, a strange smile on his face. “I can’t say I ever imagined a girl like Leigh Anne on a construction site,” he says. “It’s more of a man’s type of work.”
I clear my throat to keep from saying something I’ll regret. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one,” I say.
“Now, listen, I know you’ve got some ideas about your own business, but I am willing to make you a very nice offer,” he says. “Come to work for me, and I’ll make you the foreman of the Monroe project. I can set you up with a company truck, a nice air-conditioned office at our headquarters, and a generous starting salary with good benefits.”
“That sounds like a real solid offer,” I say. “But I can’t help but wonder why you’re approaching me about this now, before you’ve even seen any of my work.”
He shrugs. “I’ve heard enough about the quality of your work to know you’d be an asset to our company,” he says. “And a real pain as my competition.”
He laughs that second part off, but I think I’m starting to understand what’s going on here.
“A few years of working for a well-known company like Pruett would help you to build the kind of reputation you’d need to start out on your own in a business like this,” he says. “Give it a shot and see how you like it. Take some time to really learn the business.”
I bristle at the word reputation. Is that what this is all about? Mr. Davis doesn’t think I have a good enough reputation to marry his daughter and he thinks this is how I’ll build it? By attaching my name to a big company like Pruett Construction?
“We’ve been doing just fine so far,” I say.
Johnny laughs. “You had a piecemeal crew working in ninety-degree heat with no fans and no generator,” he says. “I’ve asked around, and I happen to know it’s taking you twice as long to get even small jobs done than it does for my company.”
“I believe in doing the job right, no matter how long it takes,” I say.
“And that’s mighty admirable of you, too,” he says. “But when you’re running a business for profit, there are certain things you’re going to need to learn if you want to succeed. If you come to work for me, I can show you the ropes. Teach you the kinds of things that will help move things along a little faster and save you some money along the way.”
“I don’t doubt that you’ve got a lot more experience than I do, Mr. Pruett—”
“Please, call me Johnny.”
“Johnny,” I say with a nod. “I don’t doubt that you’ve got the experience or that I could stand to learn a few things about how the business works, but I’ve got my own philosophy about how I want the work to be done, and that doesn’t always mean doing it as fast as possible or cutting corners to add a few dollars to my pocket.”
Johnny pulls his head back and frowns. “I’m not sure I like what you’re insinuating,” he says. “Pruett Construction has been one of the most respected companies in the state for longer than you’ve been alive. My father started this business back in 1965, and the reason we’re still going strong today is because we understand how to run a profitable business.”
“All I’m saying is that I intend to do things a little differently,” I say. “I have a real passion for the historic homes in the area, and I’ll do whatever it takes to restore a place back to its original beauty if I can, no matter the cost or the time involved. I’m sure that your company does a real fine job when it comes to certain things, but I also happen to know that when it comes to restoration on some of these older homes, you prefer to tear things down rather than truly restore. All I’m saying is that I’m not interested in that for myself.”
Johnny shakes his head. “You really do have a lot to learn,” he says. “Not only in how to turn a profit and get things done, but also in how you speak to those who carry more weight in this business than you ever will.”
He stands, and I stand, too. His face and neck are slightly red.
“I came down here trying to help a good friend of mine out, but I can see now why he has a few reservations about you joining his family,” he says. “I was willing to bring you under my wing and teach you a little about the business so you don’t end up falling flat on your face like so many young men who try to come in here and restore these old homes, but if you can’t see the value in that, there’s no use in trying to convince you. I wish you the best of luck, but I’ll tell you right now, you are not capable of taking on a job like the Monroe estate. And if you even think about putting in your own bid, you better be ready for a fight.”
I have no more words for this man, and the fact that Leigh Anne’s father sent him here makes me so angry I’m not sure I could speak even if I wanted to.
I toss what’s left of my iced tea into the trash and walk out, not once looking back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’m still seething by the time I pull up to the house. Leigh Anne’s car is in the driveway, and for the first time ever, I’m disappointed she’s home. I don’t even know where to begin explaining how I feel about what happened today.
I park beside her and sit in the truck for a few minutes, contemplating whether I should just turn around and go out driving for a while, but I finally decide to go in the house and face this head-on. She needs to know what happened so we can try to work through it together and figure out if we’re going to say anything to her parents about it.
I open the door and find her sitting at the table with a bunch of papers spread around her. She barely looks up at me when I come in, and I wonder if she’s had as bad a day as I have.
“What’s that?” I ask, coming around the kitchen island to sit down across from her.
“It’s an application to Stanford Law School,” she says. She runs her hand through her hair, and I notice that she’s been crying.
I pick up the sheet of paper on top of the pile and read through it. “I don’t understand,” I say. “I thought you had decided not to apply to law school.”
“I had,” she says. “Mom requested it for me and took the liberty of registering me to take the LSAT in December.”
Confused, I sit down and put the sheet back down on the pile. “Do you want to go to law school? What about our business?” I ask. I’m not sure what to think of all this.
“No, I don’t want to go to law school,” she says. “Mom brought this into the restaurant today, saying I was meant for better things.”
I stand up, wanting to put my hand through a wall. “What the hell is wrong with these people?”
“My parents?” she asks.
“I mean, enough already,” I say. “They can’t seem to get it into their heads that we’re adults who are fully capable of making our own decisions.”
She leans back in her chair and studies me. “I’m not going to send in the application,” she says. “Why are you so angry about this all of a sudden? It’s just a stupid application.”
“It’s not just this,” I say. “They’re trying to tear us apart, Leigh Anne. Do you want to know what happened to me today?”
“Do I?” she asks.
“I honestly don’t even know where to begin,” I say, pacing the floor. “This friend of your father’s, Johnny Pruett, shows up at my job site and practically orders me to shut things down to meet him at a cafe because he wants to talk to me.”
“Johnny Pruett? The construction guy?” she asks. “What did he want?”
“Yes, dear old friend of Bud Davis, your father,” I say. “When I went over there, he proceeded to tell me that I have no business putting in a bid for the Monroe job and that if I know what’s good for me, I’ll leave behind this silly notion of running my own company and come to work for him as a foreman instead. He claimed I need a better reputation around this town and he seems to think he could help me out with that.”
She stands and leans against the island. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she says. “Why would he seek you out to tell you something like that?”
“I’m glad y
ou asked. Apparently, your father has some reservations about you marrying a guy like me,” I say. “I can only assume that means your dad doesn’t think I’m good enough for you, but that me working for a big, reputable corporation like Pruett Construction would up my social value just enough to make me tolerable as a husband to his precious baby girl.”
“Whoa, why are you freaking out about this?” she asks. “I’ve never seen you this angry.”
“I’m pissed, Leigh Anne.” I slam my hand down on the island. “It’s not enough that your parents have treated me like crap since the day they first found out about us, now your father has to make me feel like I’m worthless by sending one of his buddies to try to guilt me into taking some corporate job? How am I supposed to feel?”
“Don’t yell at me,” she says. “I didn’t tell him to do it.”
“No, but you never tell them not to,” I say. I’m going too far, but I’ve been holding these things in for too long, and I can’t bite my tongue any longer. I’m too angry. “Ever since we told them about our engagement, it’s been one thing after another. They don’t want us to get married here at the lake like we want, so we agreed to get married at the church. Your mother doesn’t like the flowers you like, so you changed them. They want to throw some fancy engagement party at the country club, because they don’t think Rob’s is good enough, so we agree.”
I take a breath, my head pounding.
“Remember that day I went golfing with your father?”
She nods.
“I didn’t want to tell you about it then, because I didn’t want to upset you. But he spent the entire day telling me how you weren’t ready for marriage and how I was pressuring you into making a decision you weren’t ready to make. He said you were weak and impulsive. Now they are trying to push us apart by sending you off to California for some law degree you don’t even want? It’s ridiculous. When are we going to stop letting them make decisions for us?”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s complicated.”
“You always say that,” I shout. “That’s always your excuse, that your relationship with your mother is complicated and that it’s easier to let her get her way sometimes so that what? So you don’t have to deal with her being unhappy? Can you honestly not see that she’s making you unhappy? That they are making us unhappy?”
Leigh Anne backs away. “You’re unhappy?”
I sigh. “I’m not saying that I’m unhappy. Not exactly,” I say. “But this Pruett thing? It’s too much, Leigh Anne. If your father doesn’t think I’m good enough for you, that’s fine, but I’m not going to be bullied into living the life they want me to live.”
“So, don’t do it, problem solved,” she says.
“No, it’s not that simple,” I say. “Because there’s always going to be the next thing and then the next thing. I’m tired of making compromises just to make sure they’re happy.”
“What exactly are you saying?” she asks.
“I’m saying that you need to take a good hard look at yourself and figure out exactly what it is you want out of life,” I say. “Because I’m not going to live this way. I want you by my side, but if that means constantly being told I’m not good enough and pushed into doing things I don’t want to do, then…”
I stop myself, afraid that I’ve already gone too far to take it back. Unsure exactly what it is I want to say to her.
“Then what?” she asks. “Then you don’t want to marry me?”
“I don’t know,” I say. I run my hand through my hair. “I mean, of course I want to marry you, but ever since we got engaged it’s been a constant tug of war with your parents. This obviously isn’t the life they wanted for you, and I’m just wondering if I’m going to be reminded of that every single time I turn around. I can’t live like that.”
“So, what do you expect me to do? Cut them out of my life?” she asks. “You know I can’t do that.”
“I’m not telling you to cut them out of your life,” I say. “But sometimes I wonder if it’s not just about them.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that if you didn’t want to go to law school, you wouldn’t be sitting here staring at those papers,” I say, my voice catching in my throat. “That maybe if you truly thought this was the life of your dreams, you would fight for it instead of letting them walk all over it. But maybe this isn’t what you want.”
She shakes her head and swipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. “How can you say that to me?”
“Because I see the look on your face every night out there when you watch the sunset,” I say. “I see the way you still look sad anytime someone mentions Boston. And I saw the doubt in your eyes when you looked through that scrapbook of yours with the pictures of the big white mansion and the perfect little family. I think deep down there’s still a part of you that’s holding onto those dreams. A part of you that feels like it was taken away from you and now you’ve got to settle on this new life, because it’s the best you think you’re ever going to get. Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be your consolation prize. You’re either all in or not, Leigh Anne. You can’t have one foot in the past and plan to make any real life here with me. It doesn’t work that way.”
She turns away from me as if I’ve slapped her across the face, but I can’t regret what I’ve said to her. I’ve been feeling it for a long time, and I realize that this is the whole reason I waited as long as I did to propose to her. Some part of me knew she wasn’t ready to give her whole heart to this life.
“I love you, Leigh Anne, but if you aren’t absolutely sure this is the life you want, I can’t marry you,” I say. “When you figure out what you want, come find me.”
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I’m going to stay at Rob’s for a few days,” I say.
“Don’t go,” she says. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I need some time to think through all this,” I say. I wait for her eyes to meet mine so I know she hears every word I’m about to say. “I love you with everything that I am, Leigh Anne, and I absolutely want to marry you and spend my life with you. But I also need to know that you’re willing to fight for the life you truly want. Not the life your mother wants you to have or the life you used to think you would have. The life you truly, deep down know you want and deserve. Until you know without a doubt that it’s with me, we can’t be together.”
I grab my keys and walk out the door, praying to God I didn’t just lose the one and only person I will ever love this much in my lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s morning before I’m finally able to peel myself off the kitchen floor. I have never sobbed so hard in my life, and my entire body aches from it.
I must have cried myself to sleep at some point, because the sun is just now coming up on the horizon. I look outside to see if Knox’s truck is in the driveway, but there’s no sign of him anywhere.
I can’t believe he’s gone.
I had no idea he’d been feeling that way about the wedding and about my parents, and I’m completely soul-crushed that he walked out of here like that. But there’s a part of me that knows he’s right.
I’ve been holding onto the past with one hand and reaching toward our future with the other. Eventually something was going to let go. I just didn’t expect it to be Knox. Not like this.
I pour myself a glass of water and sit back down at the kitchen table. The papers from Stanford are still there, and I stare at them as if they belong to someone else. Another version of myself who once would have been happy to receive them.
Knox is right. If there wasn’t some part of me that wondered if Stanford was a better move for my life, I would have thrown them in the trash instead of spreading them out on the table and really looking at them. When I got home from the restaurant yesterday afternoon, I’d intended to do just that. Throw the entire envelope in the trash without giving it a second glance.
But then m
y mother’s words got stuck in my brain, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a huge mistake. Not in marrying Knox, but in turning my back on some of my other dreams, like law school.
As tough as my mother is on me sometimes, she was right about the fact that I’ve changed since I came home from Boston. Of course I’ve changed. You can’t go through something like that and come out the other side the same.
But I still need to be sure that I’m making decisions for my future based on what I truly want and not as a reaction to what happened to me. I know that. The problem is that I can’t honestly tell the difference sometimes.
I know that I want to feel safe. I know that there are days I still mourn what happened to me and how that changed my path in life. I still think about the things I had planned and how much I had been looking forward to them back then.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy with the life I’ve found here in Fairhope.
Why is this all so damned confusing? Does Knox really not think I’m ready to get married?
The tears begin falling again, and I’m tempted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head and hide away from the world. But I know I won’t be able to rest until I’ve mended things with Knox. Going after him without thinking through what I want to say won’t do any good, so here I am, after all this time, faced with the task of figuring out how to move on after having my life stolen from me.
I don’t know what else to do, so I go to the one place where I’ve felt the most peace since I moved back to Fairhope.
I go down to the dock to watch the sunrise.
I sit in the cool air and pull off my shoes and socks. I place my feet in the water and close my eyes, letting the breeze dry the tears on my cheeks. I listen to my breath moving in and out of my body, and I place a hand over my heart to feel the way it pumps life through my veins.
And that’s when it hits me.
My life was not stolen from me at all. I’m here, aren’t I?
I’m still here.