Hidden Falls

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Hidden Falls Page 5

by Newport, Olivia


  A final inspection persuaded Dani she was socially presentable. Only Quinn would appreciate the extreme effort she was making—and Dani suspected he didn’t want to be at the banquet any more than she did.

  But for Quinn, she would go.

  7:11 p.m.

  Nicole Sandquist stood in the bathroom where she had first practiced applying makeup. In those days, she saved her babysitting money and hovered in the cosmetics section of the drugstore until she was sure no one in the store knew her before making her purchases. That’s what happened to young teenage girls whose mothers had been dead for five years and whose fathers never recovered from grief. They figured out how to grow up without help.

  She pressed her lips together to redistribute a blotch of lipstick. Otherwise satisfied, she snapped off the bathroom light and headed downstairs. The house had been empty for the last four years. After two decades in Hidden Falls, Nicole’s father accepted a new job in Indianapolis, but the house had belonged to her mother’s family, so he held on to it in case Nicole would want it someday.

  Nicole brushed her hand against the oak handrail and wondered if Sammie Dunavant still did housecleaning. And what about Dani Roose? Nicole had heard through the Facebook grapevine that Dani was handy at fixing most anything around a house.

  This house was a disaster. Well, perhaps not a disaster. Neglected was a better word. Nicole had no plans to return to Hidden Falls to live, but even if she decided to sell or rent the house, the list of essential repairs would be discouragingly long. Assembling it was a task for another trip.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Nicole wiped dust from a mirror for one last look. The red dress crossed in front and fastened just above the waist on one side. Her mother’s pearls, the one nice piece of jewelry she ever owned, followed the curve of the neckline in precision as they lay against Nicole’s olive skin. Out of long habit, she deftly arranged a strand of dark hair to cut across the edge of her left eye and cover the mole.

  Before her father moved, her trips home for Christmas were in and out. She had not been to her five-year high school reunion or the ten-year event either. Nicole suspected she would see a lot of people tonight from that era of her life. A few she kept up with on Facebook in a casual way, but meeting face-to-face was different. More intimidating.

  Any old friends she saw would be pure bonus. The one face she longed for was Quinn’s. For years he helped hold together the life of a motherless girl with a distracted, grieving father. Quinn was the person who heard Nicole’s own grief, who held her quaking shoulders at the announcement of her mother’s sudden passing. Later he was the first teacher to tell her she could write. Really write. And for the first time, she had imagined a life outside Hidden Falls.

  Nicole picked up the lightweight coat she might like to have later, when temperatures would dip, and walked outside. The passenger seat of her white Hyundai Santa Fe still bore the remains of her sack of snacks for the drive from St. Louis to Hidden Falls. It was ridiculous how much she chomped during a simple two-hour daytime drive. It was not as if she were driving at night and trying to stay awake. Nicole just liked to eat, that’s all. With one hand, she swept the wrappers and napkins into a paper sack and rolled it closed.

  The banquet hall was not far. Nothing in Hidden Falls was far. By St. Louis standards, banquet hall was a generous term for the evening’s venue. It was a blockish gray building whose main feature was the large, flexible interior space with a stage. Every large gathering in the county happened here. Nicole pulled into a parking space, grateful that the lot was far from full yet. That increased her chances of greeting Quinn before the festivities began.

  The door opened more easily than Nicole remembered—perhaps the building was not as neglected as her house—and she stepped into a softly lit foyer.

  “Nicole Sandquist?”

  Nicole turned toward the voice. It took her a moment to recognize the round face cradled in a swath of dark blond curls.

  “Lauren Nock,” Nicole said.

  “It’s been ages,” Lauren said. “Somebody told me you were in St. Louis now.”

  Nicole nodded. “Investigative reporter for a daily paper.”

  “You must work on some fascinating stories.”

  “It beats reporting on the garden club agenda.”

  Lauren gestured toward a table laden with rows of name tags. “Those might help us know who everybody is, but how can we possibly catch up with everyone?”

  Lauren was two years behind Nicole in high school. They never shared classes, but they were on the debate team together. Nicole remembered Lauren as spunky, determined, and talented as an acrobatic cheerleader.

  “Are you still throwing yourself in the air and twisting three times before you land?” Nicole asked.

  Lauren laughed softly. “Not much call for that when you work for a church.”

  “I would think it would impress the youth group.” Nicole ran her finger down the S row and found her name tag clipped to a card indicating her choice of entrée.

  “As I recall,” Lauren said, “you used to spend your Saturday mornings grooming horses at a stable in Birch Bend.”

  Nicole gave a soft sigh. “I haven’t done that since high school. Quinn used to give me a ride over. Funny how he always seemed to have something he needed to do in Birch Bend, and always on Saturday.”

  “What do you suppose he was up to?”

  “I never asked,” Nicole said. “If I groomed for two hours, I got to ride for one, and that’s all I was interested in.” She wished she had asked. She wished she had asked Quinn a lot of things. She wished she had been back to Hidden Falls to see him before this.

  “It should be a terrific evening,” Lauren said. “Are you meeting anyone to sit together?”

  Nicole shook her head.

  “Then sit with me,” Lauren said. “I already put my purse on a chair at a table right up front.”

  “I’d like that.” Nicole glanced into the main banquet area. “Is Quinn here yet?”

  Lauren pointed. “Over there against the wall. A few people beat you to it, though. Looks like you’ll have to wait your turn.”

  Nicole clipped her name tag to her dress and looked across the banquet hall. The tight cluster of people was a giveaway that Quinn would be at its core. A broad smile rose from deep within Nicole as her heels clicked against the dated gray-and-green tile in a quickening rhythm. Her eyes were on the man in the tux. Every few seconds the position of someone in the group shifted and Nicole got a glimpse of Quinn.

  Gesturing.

  Smiling.

  Clapping people on the back.

  Eyes widening in surprise as he recognized one long-ago face after another.

  The people were a mix of generations—from people who might have been in Quinn’s classes two or three years ago to those who must have known him in his first year in Hidden Falls.

  Nicole’s pace slowed abruptly, and the smile on her face faded. Ethan Jordan had his head tilted toward Quinn, listening intently. Nicole drew a deep breath and resumed her pace. Several people drifted away from Quinn as the crowd started to fill in around tables. If Nicole walked away now, she might not get another chance before the evening’s program began. Ethan Jordan wasn’t going to take this moment from her—or rather, she wasn’t going to give it to him. She approached from behind Quinn.

  “Promise me we’ll finish this conversation,” Quinn said to Ethan. “It’s important. I’m so glad you came.”

  “I promise,” Ethan said.

  “Are you staying with your parents?”

  Ethan shook his head. “The motel out by the lake.”

  The answer didn’t surprise Nicole, both that Ethan would choose not to go to the family home and that he would choose the lake.

  “I’d love to have you stay with me,” Quinn said. “It would give us the time we need. I don’t want to rush our conversation.”

  Nicole’s curiosity piqued.

  “Can you manage a couple of days?�
�� Quinn asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Ethan said. “I was planning to drive back tomorrow.”

  “Please,” Quinn said. “I think we need more than one night.”

  Nicole watched Ethan’s face. She knew the moment he spotted her and closed his mouth around his reply to Quinn. She stepped into Quinn’s line of sight.

  “Nicole!”

  His arms surrounded her. She breathed in the same aftershave first embedded in her memory the day her mother died and reinforced at every significant moment through her adolescence.

  Quinn. How could she have waited so long? Nicole stepped back. She wanted to see his face.

  “What’s this I hear about you being a rising star in the world of journalism?” Quinn said.

  Nicole laughed. “I have a byline. That’s what matters right now.” She exhaled relief when Ethan shuffled away.

  “I think I might just have to subscribe to a certain St. Louis publication, then. What’s your most interesting story?”

  “That’s easy,” Nicole answered quickly. “About three months ago I was working on a story about a doctor with multiple malpractice suits against him because he claimed he could completely remove any kind of birthmark. The truth was, most of the time he turned an innocent birthmark into disfigurement. The lawyer bringing suit found a middle-aged man with a port-wine birthmark on his lower back that looked like a peeling red onion. He was willing to go undercover into the doctor’s practice—even let the doctor use a laser on him if that’s what it took to prove the doctor didn’t know what he was doing. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. We were able to prove the doctor didn’t have the proper credentials for what he claimed to be qualified to do.”

  “All this happened in St. Louis?” Quinn’s brow creased. “Just two hours from here?”

  “Sounds like more of a New York kind of story, doesn’t it?” Nicole grinned. “I’m so glad to see you! You deserve this night so much.”

  Quinn grimaced. “The whole thing makes me a bit nervous, I have to admit.”

  Nicole responded to a touch on her elbow. “Mr. Devon. Hi. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

  “Of course I remember you. Nicole Sandquist, star editor of the Hidden Falls High School Gazette. You wanted to change the name of the school paper to The Splash.”

  Nicole laughed. “Are you still the principal?”

  “When you have a good gig, why make trouble?” Miles Devon said. “But I’m afraid I must interrupt your reunion with Quinn and steal him away. The mayor is nearly ready to begin.”

  “Uh-oh,” Quinn said.

  “Just relax,” Miles said. “The mayor will make a few welcoming remarks. You’ll come out long enough for her to escort you to your table. Then dinner will be served. The main recognition ceremony will follow the meal.”

  Quinn took a deep breath and kissed Nicole’s cheek. “Thank you for catching me ahead of time. You don’t know how glad I am to hear your news.”

  Nicole watched him stride with the principal to the front of the room and go through a door leading behind the stage curtains.

  7:37 p.m.

  “There you are.” Sylvia’s skirt swished as she pivoted toward Principal Miles Devon and Quinn.

  “He’s all yours,” Miles said. “I’ll go check in one last time with the caterers. How much time do you need?”

  “Ten minutes. Give me the sign when everything is set out there.”

  Miles retreated back to the main room. Sylvia took Quinn by the elbow.

  “This part is very easy,” she said. “Everyone else has rehearsed. I just need to make sure you know how it will work.”

  Quinn glanced around the backstage clutter. “I thought you said I was to speak after dinner.”

  “You are. This is just an introduction.”

  “Everybody out there knows me,” Quinn pointed out, “or they wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

  “Will you stop analyzing everything and just work with us, please?” Sylvia turned Quinn’s shoulders thirty degrees to the left and pointed eight feet in front of them. “Do you see that mark? The silver X?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s where you stand. I’m going to go out and welcome everyone on behalf of the organizing committee. It won’t be a long speech. You should be able to hear everything from back here.”

  “You haven’t gotten to the part about why I’m back here in the first place.”

  Sylvia sighed. “You stand on the mark. I ask everyone to welcome you. The curtain will open and the spotlight will shift to you. I expect there will be some applause.”

  He frowned.

  “I know,” Sylvia said. “Not your favorite. All you have to do is make a gentleman’s bow and walk toward me. We’ll go down the stairs together and sit at the head table with Miles and some of the town council members.”

  Quinn was scowling.

  “What’s wrong?” Sylvia asked.

  “It’s overdramatized, don’t you think?”

  “Quinn, a committee planned this event. They had a lot of discussion about the tone they wanted to set. They want to honor you in a memorable way for everything you do for the people of Hidden Falls. This is not a down-home picnic.”

  He looked her in the eye. “I understand what it is, Sylvia.” He paced across the stage and pulled back the center curtain about an inch.

  Sylvia stood behind him. “Look how many people wanted to be here.”

  Members of the town council served as unofficial ushers, helping people find seats. Sylvia was glad to see few openings. For the most part, people who said they were coming actually came. The wait staff, in starched black and white, lined up along one wall with wrists crossed behind their backs.

  “Some of those kids getting ready to serve are my students,” Quinn said. “I’ve never seen them look so put together.”

  Sylvia gasped. “Is that Dani Roose?”

  “Where?”

  “Over on the left, toward the back, just coming in.”

  Quinn’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “I saw her only a couple of hours ago, headed to the lake. And look, she came. I’m quite persuasive, you know.”

  “I do know. I see Nicole and Ethan both made it.”

  “It would warm my heart if they sat together, but that’s probably asking too much.”

  “Ethan looks like he’s on the phone.” Sylvia watched Ethan walking toward an exit with his phone pushed against his ear.

  “I hope it’s not a medical emergency,” Quinn said. “He needs to stay in town for a bit.”

  “I’m sure he’ll come right back in.” Sylvia saw Nicole take a seat next to her niece. “Nicole looks stunning.”

  “She told me a fascinating story of her work. In fact, I—” He broke off the thought.

  Sylvia stepped to one side so she could see Quinn’s face. “In fact, you what?”

  He shook it off. “Nothing.”

  She did not believe him. “Quinn, what is it?”

  “This is not the time. Just … something I need to do.”

  Sylvia considered his face. He was avoiding her eyes, but she saw an expression that drifted across his features only a few times a year now. When they were younger, she saw it more often.

  “Lauren was a nervous wreck this afternoon,” she said. “All aflutter about the health fair next week.”

  “I saw her after my haircut. She has nothing to worry about.”

  “Lauren was in my shop just before I closed.” Sylvia scrunched up her face. “Do you mean you were still in town at that point in the day?”

  He shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Sylvia adjusted her view through the crack in the curtain. “Jack Parker is here.”

  “I have his older daughter in one of my classes.”

  “I don’t like his attitude. A superiority complex is unbecoming in a community like Hidden Falls.”

  “Something makes him behave that way,” Quinn said. “Everyone has a story. We just don’t
know what his is yet. When we do, we’ll understand him better.”

  Sylvia softened. Quinn was right.

  Through the curtain, she saw Liam put his arm around Jessica’s shoulders and lean in to listen to her.

  “I’ve known Liam Elliott all his life,” Sylvia said. “His story just seems to get more complicated.”

  “That reminds me,” Quinn said. “I’m supposed to set up another meeting with Liam.”

  “He has aspirations for managing some town funds, too,” Sylvia said. “I’m not so sure.”

  “He deserves a hearing, but I may have to delay awhile longer.”

  “Having doubts?”

  “No. I have a possible schedule conflict.”

  Miles stuck his head in and waved a hand.

  Quinn blew out his breath. “I guess we should get this show on the road.”

  Sylvia pointed to the silver mark. “Stand right there and don’t move.”

  Quinn clicked his heels together and stood up straight.

  “Just don’t move,” she repeated.

  Sylvia stepped through the curtain and crossed to the left of the stage. A copy of her remarks awaited her on a small podium that had been freshly stained for the occasion. She held her pose while the houselights dimmed and a soft white spotlight encircled her. Gradually conversations hushed and heads turned toward the mayor.

  “Good evening,” Sylvia said. “Thank you for coming out to spend your Saturday evening as we together honor Ted Quinn, a person who has touched countless lives since he arrived in Hidden Falls more than thirty years ago.”

  Applause swelled, and Sylvia waited for it to subside.

  “Our friend Quinn is a dedicated teacher. Some of you who studied with him in the early years have the joy of seeing your children in his classroom now. He has led one town improvement effort after another through the decades, in his desire to make Hidden Falls a place that feels like home to all who live here and all who visit. As a member of Our Savior Community Church and a deeply caring human being, he looks for every opportunity to speak into suffering with tenderness. His wit and humor keep us all on our toes.”

  Applause rose again.

  “We will hear from Quinn a little later, after we have enjoyed the meal that awaits us. When you picked up—”

 

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