Reason Is You (9781101576151)
Page 1
PRAISE FOR
The Reason Is You
“A spot-on debut novel, Sharla Lovelace’s prose is smart, witty, funny, with a hot, sexy edge that makes The Reason Is You an oh-so-tantalizing romantic journey, without any gooey gushiness oozing too-sweet sentiment. She takes us through the lives of Dani and a fascinating cast of characters—and lucky for readers, the line between our world and the mystical one is deliciously blurred. I could not put down this book, devoured it quickly, and can’t wait to see what the author comes up with next.”
—Kathryn Magendie, author of Tender Graces
“The Reason Is You is a romantic story about love, ghosts, and second chances. But under all of that, it’s a story about redemption. This novel is the definition of a page-turner.”
—Therese Walsh, author of The Last Will of Moira Leahy
“A hauntingly beautiful story from a writer with a fresh new voice.”
—Jodi Thomas, New York Times bestselling author
Book club discussion questions about
The Reason Is You can be found on
Sharla’s website at www.sharlalovelace.com.
SHARLA LOVELACE
BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin
Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2012 by Sharla Lovelace Scroggs.
Excerpt from Before and Ever Since by Sharla Lovelace copyright © 2012 by Sharla Lovelace Scroggs. Cover illustration by Rebecca Nathan / Echo Images.
Cover design by Lesley Worrell.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / April 2012
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lovelace, Sharla.
The reason is you / Sharla Lovelace.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-101-57615-1
1. Mothers and daughters—Fiction. 2. Psychic ability—Fiction. 3. Man-woman relationships—Fiction. 4. Paranormal fiction, American. 5. Love stories, American. 6. Paranormal romance stories, American. I. Title.
PS3612.08357R43 2012
813’.6—dc22
2011049375
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
To Troy, Amanda, and Ethan.
Because touching your dreams is only as sweet
as the people who touch them with you.
Thank you for sharing this journey with me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First of all—wow. I’m still in awe that this long-standing dream is actually coming true. It’s been a crazy ride to get here, but I haven’t been riding alone.
Thanks to my family, the Lovelace and Scroggs clans who have listened to me drone on and on about this “writing thing” for years, smiling and nodding and humoring me. The only reason I made it this far is because of your faith, love, and support! I know everyone’s family is amazing, but mine truly rocks. (wink) I love y’all with all I’ve got!!
To my kids—Amanda, you are the light of my life, you smart, wonderful, witty, exasperatingly mouthy, beautiful girl. You were there ten years ago when it started with the Snuggly Ready Writey Club, complete with English accents. (You had to be there.) Now here you are, a stunning young woman, a writer in your own right, and I’m so proud of you. I love you, boog. Ethan, I’ve watched you grow from boy to man, and the trip has never been boring! LOL! I love the memories we have of just us (Evil Cult Children) and Sharla Warla Barla Darla Biscuit Muffin. Your spontaneity makes me crazy and makes me laugh and I love you so much. You are a one-of-a-kind individual, and I’m so proud to call you my son. Amanda and Ethan—I would never truly understand sullen, snarky, moody, make-me-gray teenagers without inspiration from the two of you. Riley came honestly. (love you!!)
I thank Troy, the love of my life, and the man who makes me smile. You let me share this with you, and actually let these characters have life, talking about them with me like they were real people. (they’re not?) You will never know how special that is for me. Every writer needs someone who loves them enough to tell them when something sucks, as well as when it’s good. That’s luuuuuurrrv, baby! You’re my other half, my love. And that’s forever.
My brothers, Randy and Marty, and their families, who are now saying, “Really? My sister wrote a book?” Yes I did. Hopefully, I got the fishing part right or I’ll never hear the end of it. (laughing)
My parents, June and Buddy—who are in here as Nathaniel and Helen June. (sorry, Mom!) You supported every single crazy idea I ever had with vigor and love, and I wish you were here to celebrate this one with me. I love and miss you both every day, and while we can’t sit on the porch for coffee, I know you are up there on our three stars smiling down. Hopefully not fussing at each other. Be nice.
Big thank-yous go to my awesome friends and coworkers who’ve been bouncing with me the past year—thank you for listening to me rant and sometimes lose my mind. Especially Renee, who has learned more about the book industry than she probably ever wanted to. (ha!!) I love you! To my crazy TCPT friends (www.tcptexperience.org) who taught me about physical, emotional, and spiritual strength, and then made me go home and write and quit talking (lol). To all my online writer friends—I would not be able to stand the voices without you! To my fellow RWA-WFers for being a daily source of inspiration and support. Writing is so solitary, especially in a small town, and connecting to all of you keeps the sanity! On that note, I want to shout out to a particular group near and dear to me because it was the first time I met other writers in person. My friends from the DFW Writers’ Conference (2010 and 2011)—Maria Ghiglieri, Stephanie Hollis, Kimberly Rood, Ellie Soderstrom, Janet Butler, Dawn Alexander, Candie Campbell, Lindsay Cummings, Roni Loren, Piper Bayard, and Kristen Lamb. Love. Y’all. So. Much.
Huge thank-yous to the authors who took the time to read my book and give me their quotes. A special nod to Jodi, who took my pages with her on a European vacation, and then wrote me the most fantastic letter about leaving little bits of it behind as she went, in six countries. Love it! I thank you all so much.
And finally, thank you, God, for reminding me every day to let You drive. For continuing to kick me in the butt when I need it. And for not giving up on me.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Before and Ever Since
Chapter 1
STARTING over sucks, but at forty it sucks the life out of you. This thought squeezed my brain on the six-hour drive to Bethany from Dallas. I second-guessed my decision for the ninety-ninth time, eyeing every exit ramp as a potential escape hatch. As we got closer to the dark clouds looming above my hometown, in a Ford Escort with no air-conditioning and my sixteen-year-old daughter hanging her naked legs out the window to dry her pretty little coral toes, I felt the options slipping. One by one.
Not that I wasn’t grateful to have a destination. My dad loves me, and he’s never judged. But this time was no visit. It was the real deal, with bath towels and Tupperware and everything that would fit in a U-Haul trailer. My head started to bang out a rhythm just thinking about it, but I knew it was the smart thing to do. I’d tried everything after losing my job, and despite the number of times I pushed reality aside, it kept waving at me.
I had Riley to think about. I had to keep a roof over her head, and I couldn’t afford to be choosy on what roof that was. We would be okay. I glanced over at her, eyes closed, jamming to whatever her iPod was pumping into her head, and I prayed she would be okay. That she wouldn’t be tainted by association with me.
“So, when do we get to Podunk?” she said after we drove through Restin, the nearest big town. Not big like high-rises. Big like it has a Walmart.
I cut my eyes her way. “Wow, that’s nice, Riley. Good attitude.”
“Well?” she whined, holding her cell up to the window. “I barely get a signal when we go to Pop’s. It’s like the world falls into hell at the city limit.”
“Sorry. Make do.”
She rolled her eyes with a smirk, then pulled her dark hair down from its ponytail and fluffed it out before tying it right back up again.
“It’s so sticky,” she muttered.
I scooped my own hair back. “Rain’s in the air,” I said. “Get used to it.”
The scenery turned from flat and drab to rolling hills of pine trees and underbrush. I knew we were close. I knew my dad had probably adjusted and readjusted the furniture on the wraparound porch. Probably checked out my old bedroom and the extra bedroom just one more time. It was one in the afternoon, and he most likely had dinner planned for that night and the next two.
The sign came closer as we topped a hill, barely visible under the neglected tree branches. The paint was worn off to nothing, and the words were just a darker shade of old.
Riley squinted as we approached.
“Never noticed that sign before. What does it say?”
“Welcome to hell.”
That won me a fun look. On the downside of the hill, the town came into view, but not before a few straggling old houses made their unfortunate presence known. Riley turned in her seat as we passed an old wooden house with an iron rooster on top and three broken-down trucks out front.
“Was that a toilet in their front yard?”
“Uh—yeah, I think so,” I said.
“It said FOR SALE.”
I looked over at her. “You in the market?”
“Somebody’s actually going to buy a used toilet?”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “Makes a dandy barbecue grill, I’ve heard.”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes and slumped in the seat. “Oh God.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.”
We drove past the embarrassment, into the timeworn little town of Bethany. Past the different levels of new, getting progressively older as we reached the center and drove halfway around the circle before we veered off to the right. Past the old market and then past the Bait-n-Feed. I eased to a halt at the stop sign, and stared ahead. It was the last one.
Riley pulled her feet in, and I felt her eyes on me.
“So—” she said, letting the word hang.
I tugged at my bottom lip with my fingers. “What?”
“Just wondering how long we’re gonna sit here?”
I took a slow breath and let it out. “Just thinking.”
“About it being final?”
I stared at the blue eyes so much like mine. Damn, that kid could hit a nerve when she wanted to.
“It’s not for a weekend this time, Mom,” she continued, her voice smaller. “When we get to Pop’s, that’s it.”
My eyes burned and I had to look away. I grabbed my lipstick from my purse and blindly swiped some on as I contemplated being Worst Mom of the Year.
* * *
THE house waited as we rounded the gravel driveway, like it knew we were coming. Faded and solid, with memories soaked into the solid oak beams, it was home. I wanted so badly to give Riley that feeling. All I’d managed so far was three apartments with thin walls and a key to the pool gate.
True to my guess, my father sat in one of the porch chairs, nursing an orange soda. His blue fishing hat looked newer than usual, but the blue coverall jumpsuit and ragged work boots were the same.
Riley stretched her way lazily out of the car and met my dad halfway up the steps.
“Hey, Pop,” she said, winding her arms around his neck.
He did his little growl that used to make her giggle when she was little, and lifted her off the ground. Barely.
“You’re getting tall.”
“I put an extra inch on this morning, just for you,” she said as she tugged on his short white beard.
I gave the trailer a look and then decided to come back later for all that. Pretend it was temporary for a few more minutes. Instead, I let my dad suck me in for a giant hug. I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of tobacco and Steen’s pure cane syrup that I would know in my sleep if I was struck deaf and blind.
“How was your trip?”
“Peachy.”
My voice was muffled into his chest, but the answer didn’t matter.
“Just glad y’all are here and made it safe before the rain hits.”
I couldn’t tell him that I knew we would. The rain always waited for me. I looked around. The only new addition was a weather vane in the form of a B-52 bomber plane, metal propellers and all, flying above the house, giving sound to the breeze as the little blades caught it.
“Everything’s pretty much the same.”
“Just older and creakier, like me,” he said, laughing.
We shuffled into the house, and I braced myself for the horse that bounded across the worn hardwood floor.
“Bojangles!” Riley exclaimed, hitting her knees like a little kid.
But the five-ton black Rottweile
r only had eyes for me. For some damn reason, that beast loved me and felt the need to share the joy every year when we came. His big feet landed on me with the momentum of a subway train, and down I went.
“Bojangles,” I grunted.
“Sit!” Dad said.
Bojangles sat.
“Can you get him off me first?” I asked through my teeth.
Riley giggled and pulled him off, jogging to the kitchen with Bojangles at her heels to get a treat. After all, he’d performed so well. Dad helped me up and looked over his shoulder.
“She seems okay.”
“She’s used to disappointment, Dad, she rolls with it.”
He winked at me. “Come on.”
I heard the back door screen bang and knew they had headed out for a rendezvous. The dog might love me, but he knew who to hit up for the party. With the exception of one unfortunate goldfish, he was the closest thing Riley’d ever had to a pet.
“At least it’s summer. She has some time to get settled in and meet people.”
I looked away. “Yeah.”
“Quit worrying.”
“Yeah,” I repeated.
“It’ll be fine, Dani,” he said, touching my arm so that I turned back. “She’s tough.”
“Tougher than me.”
“Tougher than you used to be. But you’re a different person now.”
I smiled and looked around me. At the room that never changed, the furniture that never moved, everything still in its place. The same pictures adorning the wall, the same clock ticking in the corner over the rarely used fireplace. The same soft rug on the floor. Everything freshly dusted.
I felt like that room. All the same but freshly dusted.
“You’ll be fine once you start working and get your feet under you.”
He headed to the kitchen and came back with two waters, handing me one. He started to say something, when I heard Riley outside.
“Hang on.” I held up a finger as the back of my neck tingled and I leaned out on the porch.
I walked around to the side steps and stopped cold. Leaning casually against my car, in his usual all black and sunglasses, arms folded across his chest, was Alex.