by Jacie Floyd
“You do that.” Luckily, he’d be out of the country before it arrived.
“Be happy, Skippy.”
He breathed in her familiar scent for the last time, registering only affection at the contact, not regret or desire. They’d both grown up and moved on from the circumstances and time warp that had kept them connected for too long. It was time to let go. He kissed her on the neck in that place she’d always liked. “You, too, babe.”
Turning, she linked arms with Trevor and walked out of Zach’s life.
And he turned to Harper. The woman who represented his present. The one he adored. A sadness tugged at him, taunting him that she wouldn’t be a part of his future.
“Skippy? She calls you Skippy?”
“Old joke.”
“I don’t want to know.” She pulled her ticket out of her pocket to check her seat assignment. “Ready to watch the Cubs beat some Cardinal ass?”
“I’m ready to watch the best team win.”
She smirked. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“I’m afraid you’ll be sadly disappointed.” About so many things. And so would he.
Chapter Twenty
In the plan to turn the youth of Sunnyside into fashionistas, Harper’s family and friends hadn’t let her down. Descending in a blaze of glory, Fiona came to town for What Not To Wear week. Her beauty and glamour caused a real buzz among the teens and a stir among the adults.
“Thanks, Fee,” Harper said when she picked her sister up at the airport. “You’re the best for helping me out like this.”
“No problem.” The supermodel tossed her gorgeous tawny mane over her shoulder and donned a martyred expression. “It’s the least I can do to help the less beautiful.”
“A true humanitarian,” Harper mocked. “You permeate generosity like Mother Theresa.”
“No, not really. That woman didn’t know a thing about fashion, even if she was a saint.” Fiona flipped down the sun visor to check her lipstick in the little mirror.
“Why are you really here?”
“I needed a break, and I wanted to check out Sunnyside since you seem planted here for a while. Plus, I want to meet the town doctor since he has you so enamored.”
“Huh.” Her cheeks flushed at the description. “Enamored doesn’t seem like the right word.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She dug around in her Birkin bag for lip gloss. “Every time I talk to you, it’s all Zach-this and Zach-that. You usually aren’t so effusive. It was a long time after you started dating Blaine before you even mentioned him to me or I could have saved you from a lot of heartache. That’s not going to happen again. I’m meeting this one right away.”
“This time, you have nothing to save me from. My temporary relationship with Zach does not remotely resemble my failed relationship with Blaine.”
“Speaking of Blaine…”
“What about him?”
“I’ve been hearing some unpleasant rumors about him.”
“What kind of rumors?”
“It sounds like he’s bottoming out. Drugs, maybe. Debt, for sure. Not getting work because he’s unreliable. And some people think he’s out to get the three of us. You, me, and India.”
“Since I’ve dropped out of his orbit, he doesn’t have any leverage against me. And you and India both have a better reputation than he does. What a dickhead he is. And what a dummy I was to get mixed up with him. I’m never going to let anyone take advantage of me like that again.”
Fiona quirked one of her perfectly-shaped eyebrows. “Brave talk, but how so? Are you going to get a happily-ever-after this time?”
Harper couldn’t keep from snorting. “Far from it, but I went into this one with my eyes wide open. Zach doesn’t even know who you and India are, so he’s not after anything from either one of you or from your father.”
“You haven’t told him about us?”
“Don’t pout. I’ve told him about you, but fashion royalty and rock stars don’t loom large on his radar.”
“Maybe that’s just a cover-up. Does he know I’m here?”
“Nope.”
“Am I going to meet him?”
Wondering what kind of test Fiona had up her couture sleeve, Harper rolled her eyes. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Later that night, the two sisters were at the kitchen table sharing cheese quesadillas with Calliope and going over their plans for the week. They had India linked-in to strategize about how and when to best include her input. Harper and Fiona intended to discuss body image and styles with the teens on Monday. India would Skype with them, reviewing the hits and misses in their current wardrobes. Fiona volunteered to take them shopping in Springfield on the second day. She would give them instructions for going out on their own the day after that. On Thursday, the fashion experts would review their protégés’ purchases. On Friday, Fiona would teach makeup and Harper’s hairstylist would drive down from the city to give cut and styling tips. Then on Saturday, they’d sponsor a Before-and-After Fashion show.
“That sounds wonderful, darlings,” India said from Harper’s laptop screen. “You can Skype me in on Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday for words of wisdom. You won’t need me on Wednesday and Thursday.”
Harper approved of the overall schedule except for the shopping aspect. “Most of them don’t have money for new wardrobes.”
Fiona pushed her seldom-worn glasses to the top of her head and chewed her lip. “How much could it be? A few hundred dollars each?”
“Five hundred dollars each, I’d say, for a couple of outfits and accessories.”
“How many girls are participating?” India asked.
“Twelve have signed up so far. Once word gets out about you, who knows how many more we can expect?”
Snapping her fingers, Fiona searched the table for her cell. “I’ll call Dad. He’ll stake them if we ask him.”
“Excellent idea,” India chimed in.
“Fiona! I’m not asking your dad to fund one of my library projects.”
“You’re not going to ask him, I am. He’ll want to do it. He’s always complaining you
won’t let him do anything for you.”
“He is not!”
“Is, too.”
“And if he says no—” India began.
“Which he won’t” Fiona insisted.
“—the three of us can pitch in to pay for it.”
“I can’t let the two of you do that. I’ll donate the money. Or find it in the grant funds
somewhere.”
“Quit being disagreeable, Harper. We’ve got this. But let’s ask Dad first. I left my phone
upstairs in my bag. Would you go get it?”
Secretly pleased by their generosity while mumbling about prima-donna sisters and high-
handed mothers, Harper headed up the stairs.
“Look at the time,” India said from half a world away. “Call your father, dear. If he gives
you any problems, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll talk to the two of you tomorrow.”
After an excruciatingly difficult day, Zach considered whether he should stop by Harper’s or go straight home. They didn’t have much time left together before he’d have to leave. Probably better if he didn’t go see her.
He’d come to rely on her too much, come to enjoy her company too much, come to dread the idea of saying goodbye to her. But they only had a few short weeks left. He didn’t want to waste a minute of it by pretending he wanted to be someplace else.
And her kitchen light was on. She probably expected him to drop by.
If he did, she’d probably feed him one of her vegetarian meals and ask him about
his day. They would have teeth-rattling sex before he got a few hours of truly restful sleep in her bed. They wouldn’t even have to have sex. Unless she really wanted to. Because when it came to Harper and sex, he was always up for it. Literally.
His pulse quickened when he came into the kitchen. Harper was bent over, look
ing for
something in the refrigerator, and talking to someone on the phone. He hooked her elbow to pull her back and close the door to the fridge so he could kiss her and feel her up without risk of frostbite. But even before he saw the strange face that she wasn’t Harper.
A beautiful face. Stunning bone structure, but not as beautiful as Harper’s. Not as warm
or sweet or friendly. Definitely not as welcoming. The beauty narrowed her eyes at him and then magically changed her expression, smiling and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. “Thanks for helping us out, Daddy. I’ll call you tomorrow with the deets,” she said into the phone. “Got to go now. There’s a big handsome stranger here to ravage me. Or Harper.” She licked her lips and gave Zach a slow seductive once-over. He was the one feeling ravaged. “Just kidding, Daddy, but if you don’t hear from us by morning, call the police.”
She put the phone on the counter and her hands on her hips. Narrow, anorexic hips that
would be pointy and uncomfortable in the sack. “So, your choice. Which one of us is it going to be?”
Like he’d be interested in her even if Harper were out of the picture. This one was totally hard-edged and not his type. “If I were your dad, I’d be calling the police now and not waiting until morning.”
“There’s always that possibility. Are you willing to take the chance?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “We have a little time.”
He wouldn’t even dignify that with an answer. “Where’s Harper?”
“She had to run over to the library.”
“You’re the supermodel sister, obviously.”
“Yeah, Fiona Wilde.” She tossed her honey-streaked hair to good effect. He imagined
men fell at her feet with that move, but not him. “You must be the doctor. She told me all about you. I’m not sure you deserve her.”
“I’m not sure I do either. Will she be back soon?”
“She said she’d be gone a few minutes. Can I get you a drink? She doesn’t really have a lot to offer.”
“She has plenty to offer. I’ll just go now.”
“Really? You’re going to leave? Just like that? Don’t you want to stay and… chat?”
“No, thanks. I’ve had a long day. Enjoy your visit. Tell Harper I’m sorry I missed her.”
So. That was the sister. What was she up to? Did she expect adoration from everyone she met, or was she subjecting him to some kind of test? And if she was, had he passed or failed?
Their days and hours together were slipping away too fast. And Fiona’s visit cut drastically into their remaining hours. Harper loved spending time with her sister, loved working with her on a project that benefited the girls of Sunnyside, loved showing her off around town, but regretted that Zach considered her presence a signal to steer clear.
Fiona admitted she’d role-played the psycho-nympho sister a little bit to assess Zach’s level of loyalty to Harper. He’d passed with flying colors but had been avoiding both of them until Harper texted him on Wednesday night with an invitation to come over after Fiona had gone to bed.
Dressed all in black, he’d sneaked into the house like a cat burglar. Harper waited for him in her bedroom, where he pounced as soon as he saw her. Their coupling was swift, silent, and mind-blowing.
“God, I missed you.” He nuzzled her neck and breathed her in. “That took the edge off, but I’ve got to tell you, I’m going to be ready to go again in about five minutes.”
“That long, huh? Thanks for the warning.”
“How long is your sister staying?”
“Until Sunday.”
“That long, huh? Thanks for the warning.”
Harper poked him in the ribs. “She’s not that bad.”
“She’s fine, but she’s here, kind of interfering with my time with you. She can have you all to herself after I’m gone.”
The hands smoothing over his back stilled. “Right.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve been using this week as a practice run for your departure. No you to sneak in and cuddle me up at night. No you to make surprise guest appearances in my life. No you to smooth my way with the local citizenry.” She rested her chin on his shoulder. “No you.”
He cradled her face in his hands. “Let’s not make ourselves crazy about something that’s not going to happen for weeks.”
“Weeks. Yes, that’s oodles of time. If you’re trapped in an elevator with a rabid gorilla. Or no time at all if you’re using it to create memories to last a lifetime.”
“There’s no guarantee that I won’t come back here.”
“And no guarantee that you will. When are you going to tell the town?”
“The first council meeting in October.”
Her heart spasmed. So soon. “Well, good. I’m glad at least one part of your secret will be common knowledge.” Maybe they’d be so upset about losing him that they wouldn’t notice their new librarian was distraught as well. “How do you think they’ll react?”
How would they react? Now that the time had sneaked up on him, that’s what Zach kept wondering, too.
“They should be okay with it but probably won’t. They’re kind of used to controlling my life.”
“They are, I know. What I don’t really understand is why. I mean, they are pretty possessive about everyone who was born and raised here. And you are, of course, the brilliant golden boy who can do no wrong, but why you? What is it about you that makes them so crazy?”
He flopped over onto his back and closed his eyes. “It’s complicated.”
“Too complicated to explain?”
“Too eviscerating.”
Her hand clasped his on top of the sheet. “You can tell me about it if you want to.”
If he wanted to? When had he ever wanted to talk about this subject? Who had he ever told about it? No one after the official reports had been filed.
Exactly no one.
Because everyone who knew him already knew the story. Every damn detail. So he never had to talk about it. He’d kept it bottled up inside for eighteen years.
As a doctor, he recognized the harmful effects of that pattern. As a man, the idea of spilling his guts about his most horrific, heartbreaking secrets scared the bejesus out of him. How would it help to talk about it? But then again, how would it hurt? Maybe it was time to find out.
Where would he start? “When I was sixteen, my mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.”
Harper squeezed his hand and made a soothing sound that offered enough support for him to continue even though the harsh memories were gushing through him with the force of a tsunami.
“It’s a particularly aggressive cancer, and I had to grow up fast. Going to school, playing football, working on the farm, helping out at home, keeping an eye on Rachel and Josh, my life was one great big ball of exhaustion. But you know kids, they think they’re invincible with unlimited energy. Whatever it took, that’s what I planned to do. I just kept going at it.”
“Is that why you wanted to be a doctor?”
“Mom was a nurse, and she always encouraged my interest in the medical field. But when she got sick, that kind of sealed the deal. She wanted things to be as normal for the rest of us as possible. In high school, she had been a cheerleader and my dad was a star football player, so she always insisted I keep playing even though it was the most expendable item on my schedule.”
“She sounds like a very wise and strong woman.”
“That she was.” Stacking his hands behind his head, Zach smiled, remembering just how wise and wonderful she’d been. “For all the home games, Dad would wrap her in blankets, carry her into the stands, and sit close beside her, supporting her and keeping her warm.”
“I can imagine how proud she must have been of you.”
“Homecoming was the last game she was well enough to attend. I managed to play a good game even though she’d had a rough couple of days and nights before
that. At the dance after the game, my girlfriend and I were named Homecoming King and Queen. I didn’t really care, but Marley was thrilled. Mom beamed as they put that stupid crown on my head, and that made it all worthwhile.”
Harper threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged. “I should have guessed you were homecoming king. And class president and valedictorian, too, right?”
Rolling his eyes at her guess, he took a deep breath. “Naturally, Marley wanted to celebrate with our friends afterward. It was the kind of crisp fall weather that made you want to run and jump into a big old pile of leaves even if you were too old or too cool to do that.
“All the team and the homecoming court headed out to party at a cabin at Schafer’s Lake. Kids were drinking and dancing, sneaking off to make out. That wasn’t really my scene. I didn’t want to drink, smoke dope, or party since I was exhausted from sitting up with Mom the past few nights.
“Marley and I were fooling around on the beach because a teenage boy is never too tired to try his luck with a girl on the happiest night of her life. Despite her pleasure at our king-and-queen status, she put on the brakes that night, too.”
He’d been almost too drained to care. Even though he had been madly in lust with her, which meant he had a raging hard-on pretty much every minute of every day, they were both still virgins. He wasn’t sure he was up to the task that night of making it as special for Marley as her first time should be—as special as he wanted it to be for her.
When she removed his hands from under her dress and wrapped his arms around her instead, she said she just wanted him to hold her for a while under the stars—Wasn’t the moon the most romantic thing he’d ever seen? Yes, big and bright and as round as a basketball. But he’d seen the moon before. And on that night, with his mom so sick and so many question marks about his future, the moon didn’t seem all that special. He fought to keep his eyes open while contemplating how long he’d have to hold her before he could take her home. Naturally, she didn’t appreciate his lack of attention, and she said in that snippy girly way, “If you’re not going to be any fun, I’m ready to go home.”