Hidden Falls

by Newport, Olivia

  “Yes. But we haven’t had a meeting in two weeks. Now the fair is only seven days away.”

  “I’m sure Quinn has everything in hand. He always does.”

  “I know. I just feel responsible. I’m the family ministry director for the church, but I seem to have handed the whole thing off to someone else.”

  “Not just someone else. Quinn. He won’t let you down.” Sylvia looked up. “Do you need something, or did you just come in to chat?”

  Lauren tucked the clipboard under one arm and moved toward a jewelry display. “A necklace for tonight.” Something nice but not too expensive.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “The sage-green dress. I love the fabric and color, but I never know how to accessorize the square-cut neckline.” Lauren spun a rack of thin gold chains and inexpensive arrangements of costume beads.

  Sylvia set down her charge receipts and paced to the end of the counter. “I have something here that I haven’t put out yet.” She pulled a box from a low shelf.

  Lauren walked over to see what Sylvia was uncovering. “A Celtic cross. I like that!” Lauren lifted the cross out of its box and ran her fingers over tiny knots engraved in the pewter and the circle that joined the crossing bars. Then she lifted the chain and held it up to her neck. A glance at the price tag revealed no impediment to the purchase. “It will hit perfectly above the neckline. I’ll take it.”

  “Good,” Sylvia said. “I am about to close up the shop. I still have a list of things to double-check before the banquet.”

  “I could come early and help greet people.” Lauren swiped her debit card.

  Sylvia laid the necklace in its box, slipped it into a small bag with the receipt, and handed it to Lauren. “Perfect. I told Quinn to be there by seven. I’ll pick you up at quarter till.”

  As soon as Lauren stepped out of the shop, Sylvia turned off the OPEN sign. Lauren pulled her phone from her pocket to look at the time. Just after five. She had plenty of time to walk three blocks down and through the narrow door into the small vestibule that serviced a row of apartments built above adjoining shops on Main Street. Lauren’s two-bedroom apartment was above the small barbershop and the town newspaper. Two decades ago someone had carved out enough space for an elevator beside the stairs in her building, but Lauren preferred to take the stairs two at a time. It was only one flight.

  As she grabbed the ancient handle on the door to her building, she looked up and recognized the man exiting the barbershop.

  “Quinn.”

  He turned his head. “Hello, Lauren.”

  “What are you still doing in town? Shouldn’t you be home getting ready for your big night?”

  He raised his fingers to brush his freshly trimmed hairline. “My haircut is good faith that I will go through with this hoopla.”

  “You’ll look dapper, I’m sure.” She sighed in relief. “I’m so glad to run into you. I’ve been staring at this list of action steps for the health fair, and I’m clueless where everything stands.”

  Quinn smiled. “Everything stands just as it should.”

  “Booths? Tables? Vendors?”

  He nodded. “All of that and more. Cooking demonstrations of healthy food, immunizations for kids, blood pressure screenings, sign-ups for exercise classes at the community center, a recipe exchange for busy moms, even a book fair—because literacy is healthy for all sorts of reasons.”

  “I don’t remember a recipe exchange.”

  Quinn shrugged one shoulder. “I may have added a few ideas since we last talked. There’s a joke contest, too.”

  Lauren raised an eyebrow. “A joke contest?”

  “Laughter is good medicine.”

  “Do we need to rent more chairs for the demonstration booths?”

  “Done.”

  “What about electricity for the booths that need it? We can’t have extension cords all over the place.”

  “No, no. Safety hazard. I’ve already thought of that.”

  “Trash cans? And do you think we should keep the church building open so we have restrooms?”

  “It’s all under control, Lauren. Don’t let your stress get the best of you. It’s not healthy!”

  “Are there people I should be calling next week just to reconfirm everything?”

  “Lauren, it will be fine.” He touched her shoulder. “If it will make you feel better, we can meet Monday after school and I’ll go over everything with you.”

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to be freaking out. I just want the fair to go well. It’s been a long time since the church reached out to the community with something this big.”

  “We wouldn’t be doing it at all if you hadn’t started the ball rolling. But we’re in good shape. I promise you.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll come to your classroom on Monday afternoon.”

  “It will be just like the old days when you stayed after seventh-period geography,” he said. “I’ll see you there. Now I’d better get going or I’ll lose all my spiffing-up time, and what would your aunt think of that?”

  Lauren glanced around. “Where’s your car?”

  “I came into town with Sylvia this morning and just never wandered home.”

  “You’ve been here all day?”

  “Doing one thing or another, yes.”

  “You’re going to walk now?”

  “Two miles is not so far. I do it all the time.”

  “Aunt Sylvia is just closing the shop,” Lauren said. “I’m sure you could catch her and she would take you.”

  He put a finger to his lips. “Shh. Let’s keep our meeting a secret. One walker to another.”

  Lauren didn’t own a car and didn’t even have a driver’s license. When she was younger, she kept putting off learning to drive until eventually she decided she didn’t need to. After college she returned to Hidden Falls, started working at the church, and decided to live only a few blocks away. She could walk to any kind of shop she needed. When she had a full day off, she could even hike out to the falls or the lake. She was like Quinn in that way. A few miles on foot were not daunting. Quinn was in good physical shape and could set a vigorous pace. But this time he was cutting it close.

  “Tell me you plan to bring your car when you come back to the banquet,” Lauren said.

  “I am not a complete dolt, now am I?” His eyes twinkled. “I will drive, and I will arrive in time for your aunt to inspect the results of my feeble efforts.”

  She smiled. If her aunt had married Quinn, as Lauren always suspected she wanted to, he would have been Uncle Quinn to Lauren for her twenty-eight years. Even without the marriage, Lauren could not have been fonder of Quinn.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll see you at the banquet hall.”

  She watched him for a moment. There was not much about the way he looked to set him apart. He was middle-aged and balding. Not particularly tall and not particularly short. Not heavy and not thin. His face was one of the blandest Lauren had ever seen.

  Yet Quinn was the most remarkable person she knew. He deserved the honor he would receive in two hours.

  Lauren glanced in both directions down Main Street. Extra cars with out-of-state plates crawled down the street, and foot traffic was brisk. People had come for Quinn. Lots of people.

  With her hand on the door handle for a second time, a rush of denim across the street caught Lauren’s gaze. Her eyes widened.

  He was here. She had been back in Hidden Falls for six years and not seen him once—and he was not someone she expected would care about coming back for an event like tonight’s.

  But there he was.

  Surely he would not stay long. Probably he would be gone by tomorrow night.

  She sure hoped so.

  6:02 p.m.

  The heft of the fishing reel felt perfect in Dani Roose’s hands. The solid brass pinion gearing, the roller to reduce twists in the line, the lightweight spool—it was everything she wanted. While the clerk in the sporting goods sh
op rang up the sale, Dani tested the spinner for the umpteenth time and imagined the rod she would pair with the reel. Now she could use a heavier line and cast farther out on the lake.

  The clerk, Henry, announced the total, and Dani extracted cash from the pocket of her orange quilted North Face vest. For weeks she had researched reels in fishing magazines and catalogs. Once she had made up her mind what she wanted, she checked prices around the county and on the Internet. As much as she dreamed about the reel, it was out of reach until today. Dani ignored her phone most of the time, but that morning she’d picked it up. Sammie Dunavant had a dried and cracking fence post that needed replacing before a stiff fall wind took down twenty feet of unstable slats. Digging postholes was not Dani’s favorite task, but she made her erratic income by doing things that were nobody’s favorite.

  So Dani dug the hole, sank the post, and poured the concrete around it. While it set, she added nails to loose boards. At least she was not building a fence in the high heat of summer, and Sammie’s fence would now last at least five more years—longer if she let Dani come back and replace the weakest slats. Then Sammie asked her to fix a window that did not close properly and clean out a bathroom drain.

  Sammie did enough business with Dani to know she liked to be paid in cash. Dani issued receipts for everything she did, whether it was handy work or troubleshooting computers. Nothing was under the table. Dani just thought it was easier not to make unnecessary trips to the bank, and Hidden Falls businesses had stopped taking third-party checks a long time ago.

  Henry handed her a few dollars in change. “You going to get out on the lake with that tomorrow?”

  “Before dawn.”

  “Do you still throw everything back?”

  “I watch the limits.”

  Henry shook his head. “I like to eat what I catch.”

  The store owner was at the door, flipping the sign to CLOSED. Dani realized she was the final customer. She tossed her long dark braid over her shoulder and carried the reel out to her mud-splattered Jeep.

  What Dani did not tell Henry was that she was headed straight out to Whisper Lake. She would be on the water before dawn because she would be at the cabin before dark. The cooler in the back of the Jeep held food for several days. The cabin that had belonged to her grandparents had no plumbing or electricity, but that never bothered Dani. The bed was old, but the quilts were warm. Dani had sealed the doors and windows against drafts, and she could always lay a fire if she got cold. The rustic conditions were a small price to pay for the thrill of watching the sky blaze toward a new day, surrounded by acres of blue water, the depths teeming with freshwater fish.

  With her mind’s eye more focused on the lake view than the road out of town, Dani almost didn’t see him. She was fifty yards down the road before she realized what her brain had failed to register immediately. Dani gave the wheel a swift turn, pulled to the shoulder, and slowly backed up. When she was certain, she turned off the ignition, got out, and marched toward him.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said.

  Quinn seemed in no hurry.

  “Why not?” he said. “I’m on my way home. Practically there.”

  “You’re still a mile away. In an hour you’re supposed to be the guest of honor at the town ball.”

  Quinn laughed. “Town ball. Clever.”

  “Are they making you wear a penguin suit?”

  “’Fraid so.” Quinn looked at his watch. “I have to present myself in forty-seven minutes and fourteen seconds.”

  “Which is precisely why I didn’t expect to find you out here at this hour.” Dani scratched under her braid.

  “I admit to stopping along the way,” Quinn said.

  “The ridge overlooking the river?”

  Quinn nodded. “The trees are spectacular right now. The reflection of the colors in the river is breathtaking. Tomorrow will be too late for today’s view. I wanted one last moment of peace before the onslaught of attention tonight.”

  Dani and Quinn understood each other on that point.

  “Get in the Jeep,” she said. “I’ll drop you off. That should buy you fifteen minutes.”

  They got in the car, and Dani started the engine.

  Quinn furrowed his brow. “You don’t look any closer to being ready than I do.”

  “I’m completely ready for where I’m going,” Dani said. “The cabin is calling my name.”

  “Oh.”

  Dani glanced at Quinn, who looked out his window. She pulled out onto the road. If she hadn’t stopped, she wouldn’t be having a conversation that was rapidly turning awkward.

  “Quinn,” she said, “you know this kind of event isn’t my thing. I don’t fit in.”

  “I thought you told me you sent in your RSVP.”

  “I did.” Dani imagined she was the only person in town to tuck cash into the envelope rather than a check. “Liam and Cooper were after me to do it. I had to get them off my back.”

  “Listen to your cousins,” Quinn said.

  “But … it’s just … you know, not me. I haven’t even had a dress on since my sister’s wedding three years ago.”

  “I’m sure whatever you wore to a wedding would be appropriate tonight.”

  “My hair.”

  “Is shiny and striking in a braid. Most women can’t carry that off.”

  “But I’d have to talk to people.”

  “You talk to me.”

  “You’re different.” Dani flashed her eyes at the rearview mirror and then both side mirrors.

  They drove in silence. Dani’s stomach churned. “You want me to be there, don’t you,” she finally said.

  “Yes, I do.”

  More silence.

  “Will it hurt your feelings if I just can’t do it?” Dani asked.

  “No.” Quinn answered quickly. “It’s not about my feelings. I just hate the thought that you don’t want to come because you feel out of place. This is your town, too. We’re celebrating everything we’ve done together.”

  Dani smiled. “They’re celebrating you, Quinn. You have to accept that.”

  Quinn squirmed. “That’s not how I choose to frame the event in my mind.”

  “Frame it however you want, but you hold this town together.” Dani flipped on her signal and made the right turn onto Quinn’s street.

  “My speech is going to suggest otherwise.”

  Dani laughed. “Sylvia is going to love that.”

  “She said I had to make a speech. She didn’t say what it had to be about.”

  Dani pressed her lips together and turned them to one side.

  “I’ve made you curious, haven’t I?” Quinn said.

  Dani rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’ve made me curious.”

  “Do you want to hear about it secondhand?”

  “They’ll probably print it in the newspaper.”

  “Not if they don’t have the napkins I’ve written it on.”

  Dani slapped one hand against her forehead. “All right. I’ll come. But now we’re both in danger of being late.” She could not even remember if she had the dress cleaned after dropping frosting on it at her sister’s reception. Wearing it again never crossed her radar.

  “You make an old man happy.”

  “You’re not old and you’re not unhappy. You just don’t want to be the center of attention.”

  “On to brighter topics,” Quinn said. “My computer is freezing up a lot lately.”

  “That’s probably because it’s a dinosaur as far as laptops go, and you insist on trying to run programs it was never designed to run.” Dani turned into Quinn’s driveway.

  “You always manage to sort things out.”

  “I can’t do that forever, Quinn. But I can help you buy a new one.”

  “Let’s give it one more go, shall we? Come over one night this week and see what you can do.”

  Dani nodded. “Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday. First I want to go to the lake for a few days.”

 
; “I’m jealous.”

  “Come up tomorrow.”

  “I just might do that. After church.”

  Quinn got out, and Dani watched as he let himself in the front door. She backed out of the driveway and turned the Jeep away from the lake and toward town.

  Forty minutes later, Dani stood in front of the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Most of the time she was content to leave a bathrobe dangling from a hook there. A woman who didn’t wear dresses didn’t need to look in a full-length mirror very often.

  She didn’t like dresses.

  She didn’t like crowds.

  She didn’t like fancy meals.

  She didn’t like anything about this night except that it was for Quinn.

  Dani had long ago made peace with being a loner. She flunked out of community college because she didn’t have enough interest in conforming to do homework that bored her. Two attempts at conventional employment led to two of the most disastrous experiences of her life. No doubt if she organized her efforts she could earn considerably more money than she currently did, whether she took on more odd jobs around town or accepted more computer repair work, but she liked her freedom. Being so tied down that she couldn’t decide to spend an afternoon fishing was no way to live.

  Dani tugged the gray shift down and straightened the seams along her slender hips. The hem hit just above her knees, which in their exposed state struck her as unreasonably knobby. The dress called for shoes with heels, and Dani had the pair from her sister’s wedding, but she refused to put herself through that torture. Rummaging in the back of her closet produced a pair of black flats she wiped clean, and she slipped them on her feet.

  The problem with her long, thick hair was that it took forever to dry. Wearing it in a single braid was a practicality more than anything else because she could leave the house with wet hair. In front of the mirror, Dani pulled the braid forward over her right shoulder, flipped it back, and pulled it forward again.

  “Who am I kidding?” she said aloud. No one would care. No one would notice. Who was she even going to sit with? Liam and Cooper had dragged her into this. If they didn’t also save her a seat, Dani would have a few choice words for them. It was just the kind of thing older boy cousins would have done to her as kids.