by Liz Talley
If it had been a scene in a movie, she would have smiled. Awww. Two fairly attractive people checking each other out in the hardware store. Oh, the possibilities. Oh, the stories they’d tell their grandchildren. How romantic.
But this was the man who’d broken her heart.
Completely.
Nothing warm or fuzzy about that.
Finally Henry picked up a canister of paint, slid by her, and walked to the register. She took that moment to walk to the back of the store and turn her back to Henry. Mick was still talking to someone on the phone about an order that had been delivered to the wrong location. An older woman pushed through a door to Sunny’s left, pulling on an apron, and walked to the front. She made casual conversation about the weather as she rang up Henry’s purchase. Sunny pretended to peruse furniture polish and scratch cover-up, feeling relief pooling in her stomach.
Goodbyes were exchanged and the door opened and closed.
Safe. Whew.
Sunny cautiously made her way to the register just as Mick got off the phone.
“Hey, Sunny, you just missed Henry Delmar.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay,” she said, setting down the items she’d juggled while hiding like a freak-a-zoid.
“Didn’t you two date in high school?”
“Yeah, we did.” For three years, seven months, and eighteen days. The best days of her life… even if she and Henry had ended badly. “Long time ago, right?”
“To you maybe,” Mick said with a smile. “Seems like just yesterday you guys were small sprouts playing Wiffle ball in the parking lot.”
She’d never played Wiffle ball, but she wasn’t going to burst Mick’s memory of little boys doing little-boy things. “Time does fly.”
Mick gave her the total and she swiped her card, praying it wouldn’t get declined. She needed to call Eden and see if she could cover the medicines for their mother since the van’s transmission would take away any extra money they’d had for the month. Eden had inherited some money from one of her friends who’d passed away almost a year ago. Her younger sister had used most of the money to go to college in New Orleans, something she’d failed to do as a senior almost thirteen years ago when Betty had her stroke. Sunny had promised her sister she’d get a chance to go to college. That Sunny would take her turn taking care of Betty, but between her husband deploying and the multiple dangerous pregnancies, it had taken longer than Sunny had planned.
Eden had never complained and damn sure deserved her break from Morning Glory and dealing with their mother.
“All right then, Sunny.” Mick handed her the brown paper bags with the things she needed to finish up the painting in the kitchen.
“Thank you, Mr. Mick,” Sunny said, hoping she could fit the items in the saddlebags on the sides of the bike. Might have to bend the plastic paint liners. “I’ll see you later.”
She walked to the glass door, trying to ascertain if Henry and his offspring were lurking around the square. Just as she put her hand on the door handle, her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her back pocket. She didn’t recognize the number, but it was local.
“Hello,” she said, electing to stay inside the warm store and put more distance between herself and Henry.
“Is this Sunny Voorhees?” the woman huffed and puffed, obviously out of breath.
“It’s Sunny David.”
“Yes, of course. That’s right. I’m calling about the résumé you dropped by.”
Sunny’s heart leaped. Finally. “Yes?”
“I don’t know if you remember me. This is Marilyn McConnell at Morning Glory High.”
“Miss McConnell. Of course I remember you.” Sunny summoned the memory of a small woman who wore her hair in Farrah Fawcett wings, complete with blue eye shadow, bubblegum lip gloss, and sweater-vests.
“Oh, good. Well, our attendance clerk fell and broke her hip last night and will be out for at least three months. Which is essentially through the end of the school year. Poor Melanie’s got to have surgery, but before they can do that, they have to get her blood pressure stabilized. There’s a steel rod and physical therapy. Good Lord, the poor thing has a long road ahead of her. At any rate, we’re looking for someone to fill her place through the end of the year. Usually we go through the school board office. Protocol and stuff. And you’ll have to go there for paperwork and such. But good thing your résumé was on my desk and Jim over in Human Resources owes me a favor. We love hiring former students if we can. Keep it in the family.”
Finally the woman ran out of steam. An awkward silence sat a moment before Sunny snapped to attention. “Great. I mean, I’m sorry for Mrs. Geter, but I’m so happy you called me.”
“Oh, good,” Marilyn said, papers rustling in the background. “Why don’t you head to the school board office in the morning? I’ll call Jim and tell him you’re coming around nine o’clock. They’re going to need a background check, fingerprints, and lots and lots of paperwork. It’ll take you a few hours at least. Then head over here in the afternoon. Sound good?”
Sounded perfect. How hard could working in the attendance office be? “Yes. It sounds very good. Thank you for calling me.”
Marilyn laughed. “You may not be thanking me in a week. But it’ll be an adventure.”
Sunny made a face. What did that mean? “Yes. Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hung up and pushed out the door. Having a job through May would be sweet. She could aim for getting the house on the market at the beginning of summer, an ideal time since many families were apt to move when kids were out of school. That would put Sunny in California for late summer. Perfect.
But only if she could talk her mother into the retirement community. And if she could talk Betty into listing the house. And if she could actually find someone who wanted to move into Grover’s Park.
If… if… if.
As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she noticed several people gathered around a huge truck. A huge truck that was very near the spot where her bike had been parked.
Hurrying her steps, she crossed the street, dodging a lookie-loo who had slowed to see what all the fuss was about. Rosemary Genovese, one of her sister’s BFFs, glanced over at Sunny, delivering an “I’m sorry” face.
“What?” Sunny asked.
Rosemary’s eyes went to the back of the truck. To part of the motorcycle sticking out from under the colossal tire.
“What the fu—” Sunny started, her words dying when she saw the girl in pigtails standing beside the boy she’d seen earlier in the hardware store. Landry. The boy looked stricken… and scared.
Henry Todd Delmar stood staring down at the motorcycle beneath the tires of the truck. His face was a thundercloud, and for a fraction of a second, Sunny was struck at how good he looked pissed off… at how much a man he was now. No lopsided grin, teasing eyes, flirty hands. Henry had grown up.
His gaze rose to meet hers. “Ma’am, is this your bike?”
Sunny closed her mouth, her eyes sliding to the crushed Harley. “Yeah, it’s mine.”
Henry’s arms had been crossed, but at that moment he dropped them like a release. She felt the exact moment he realized who she was. It was like a crackle of static, a record needle falling into the groove, a key turning in the lock. Connection made.
“Sunshine?” Henry’s voice sounded far away.
“Hello, Henry.”
Henry Todd Delmar didn’t shock easily. He’d known Sunny Voorhees or whatever she went by these days was back in Morning Glory. But he hadn’t been prepared for the impact of seeing her again. Maybe nothing could have prepared him.
Because this woman looked nothing like the girl of his memories.
As a teenager, Sunny had been soft and pretty with golden hair the full spectrum of the sun. She’d worn funny T-shirts that clung to breasts he’d written silly poems about. “1,001 Odes to Sunshine’s Girls” always made her giggle. She’d ridden beside him in the old Toyota truck he’d loved so much, and she�
��d worn lip gloss that tasted of strawberries and a locket he’d given her for the anniversary of their first date. She’d been everything he’d ever wanted—a soft place to land, the orb he’d spun around. His sunshine.
But the woman frowning at him was all hard angles, slashing mouth, and tough attitude that demanded a guy be uneasy. Too thin and hair the color of sin, this Sunny was so far removed from the girl he’d idealized that he couldn’t grasp it was actually her.
He wanted to ask, “What happened to you?”
But he knew.
He’d broken her heart. She’d run away and made a life that included a recently deceased Marine husband. She’d only come back home because she’d promised Eden. He’d heard she was fixing up the old house in Grover Park, some said to sell. Small-town people talked. And when it came to the girl he’d once loved, he always listened.
“I heard you were back in town,” Henry said, aware the crowd that had gathered around the crushed motorcycle was hanging on his every word. He and Sunny would be fodder for the dinner table that night.
“Yeah, but not for long,” she said, her gaze going back to his truck crushing her bike. “Have trouble backing out or something?”
She was cool as shit, but he could tell she was upset. He could always tell when his Sunshine was out of sorts. Or maybe he wanted to think he still had that connection with her. Because at least it was something to hold on to.
“I did it,” Landry said, his voice cracking.
Sunny turned toward the boy. “You did it?”
Landry’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I… I… have my permit and Dad said I could drive home. Thought I would show him how good I could back into a spot. I didn’t see your motorcycle.”
Henry lasered his son with the pissed-off-dad look his father had used on him all too often. Nothing more effective on a boy than that look. At least until he got married and had to deal with pissed-off-wife look.
Landry swallowed and glanced away.
“But he decided to get behind the wheel before I was back in the truck. It’s something we’ve discussed at length since he just got the permit a few months ago,” Henry said.
“Should I call the police?” someone asked.
“No,” Sunny said before he could. “No need to involve insurance companies or make things more complicated. I’m sure Henry and I can work something out.”
“Of course,” Henry said, relieved she didn’t want to call Morning Glory’s finest. Landry was in hot water enough without involving the authorities and addressing the fact he’d driven without an adult in the car.
He wanted to clap his hands and declare the show over, but he knew some people in town had just pulled out pretend popcorn and were waiting to watch the showdown they’d missed all those years ago. Instead, he swept the crowd with a firm, perhaps accusing, stare. A couple of them shifted nervously, one or two wandered back toward the businesses ringing the square.
Rosemary touched Sunny’s elbow. “You need me to do anything, Sunny?”
Sunny shook her head. “No, it’s fine. We’ll sort it out.”
“You need a ride home?” Rosemary asked.
“I can take her,” Henry said.
Sunny jerked her gaze to his, her blue eyes hard as sapphires. “I can—”
“It’s the least we can do. We’ll put the bike in the back and take it to a shop,” Henry said.
Rosemary nodded as if she agreed, but then she looked at Sunny. “You sure?”
Sunny finally shrugged, though she looked reluctant as hell. “Sure, but thanks anyway.”
When Rosemary left, the crowd followed her lead.
“I’ll need to pull forward and then we can load the bike into my bed and take it to Deeter’s.” Henry pointed to his children. “Landry, take Katie Clare over to the benches and wait there.”
Landry tugged his sister’s elbow. “Come on.”
The girl jerked away, her eyes on Sunny. “Who’s she, Daddy? Why’d you call her Sunshine? Is that her name?”
“Katie,” Henry said, unable to hold in the sigh. His daughter was like a terrier, ferociously cute and apt to not let go of anything she wanted. In this case it was information. “Do what I said, chicken.”
“But Daddy, I just want—”
“Katie,” he said, this time with a growly voice.
“Fine,” she said, turning and flouncing off after her subdued brother. The girl was sheer drama and too much like her mother. Still, he’d lay down his life for her. As difficult as Katie Clare was, she brought him the joy he needed to make it each day. Whether it was yet another pet frog in the bathroom sink, “trying on” makeup at his mother’s house, or putting kitten stickers on his briefcase, Katie made life worth living. Landry did too, though his serious boy never wanted to play tickle fight or watch movies that featured people who burst into song. Landry was steady, honest, and colored within the lines, which made this accident with Sunny’s bike atypical of the boy.
Sunny’s gaze stayed on his daughter as she sashayed away, a bemused expression on her face. It was the first glimpse of any softness in Sunny.
“Sorry about that. Katie Clare is… dramatic. And stubborn. And—”
“Wonderful?” Sunny finished, something tender slightly curving her delicious mouth.
“Yeah, most definitely,” Henry said, flicking away the thought that Sunny’s mouth was delicious. Stop being an idiot. He walked around to the open driver’s door and climbed inside. He stuck his head back out the door. “Stay back, okay? Don’t want to hurt you.”
The look Sunny gave him tore his heart. But quick as spit, she shuttered her expression.
Henry pretended away the words he’d uttered. Not going there.
Instead of acknowledging the slip, he shut the door and shifted into Drive, looking carefully both ways as he gunned the engine. The truck rocked and then shot forward, releasing its predatory hold on the helpless Harley.
Luckily the parking spot next to the scene of the crime was empty. Only a few more feet and his son wouldn’t have done any damage. And Henry never would have run into Sunny. At least not today. He had been out of town for three weeks, working in Mobile on a project demanding special handling. Or as his dad had called it, “ass kissing.” Since Henry had missed his weekend with the kids, his ex-wife Jillian had let him take them back to Morning Glory for back-to-back weekends.
Henry maneuvered into the spot next to the ruined bike and shut off the engine.
Sunny stood staring at the bike, a sorrowful look on her face. “Wow, it crumpled like a toy. And it’s a Harley, not a flimsy dirt bike.”
“Well, my truck’s pretty big.”
“I noticed,” she said dryly.
He waited for the requisite big truck, small penis implication, but it never came. “Think I’ll need Landry to lift this into the truck.”
“Or maybe we should call a tow truck?” Sunny suggested.
Henry bent and lifted the bike. It was heavy but not ridiculously so. “Think we can get it. Save the expense.”
The look she gave him said it wouldn’t be coming out of her pocket. And it wouldn’t. Still, being a do-it-yourselfer was ingrained in him, so if he could load the bike and get it to the shop, why involve anyone else?
“Lan, get over here,” Henry called.
The boy jogged over, looking like a whipped puppy—eager to please, afraid of getting swatted. Like he’d ever swatted the boy. “You gonna put it in the back of the truck?”
Henry put his hands on his hips and studied the back of his truck and the dimensions of the bike. “It’ll fit and save us some time and money.”
Landry shrugged and dropped the tailgate, maneuvering the boards he’d picked up earlier so that they could roll the bike up the makeshift ramp. Five minutes and one slipped curse word, he and his son had the bike loaded. Sunny stood there with Katie Clare, his daughter sliding interested glances at the stoic woman who looked so different than the girl he’d known.
S
o incredibly different.
“There,” he said slamming the tailgate. “Let’s get this over to Deeter’s garage before he shuts down. Ever since Tracy had him a grandbaby, he closes earlier and earlier.”
“Tracy had a baby? I used to babysit her,” Sunny murmured.
“You used to live here?” Katie Clare asked. “That must be how you know my daddy. He grew up here too. But we live in Jackson. And kinda here. Dad’s divorced.”
“Motormouth,” Henry said, shaking his head at his daughter. “Sunny and I went to Morning Glory High School together a long time ago.”
And she was once my everything.
But he didn’t say that of course.
Sunny issued a smile because it was expected. “A long time ago.”
“Let’s get moving, crew,” Henry said to his children. They obediently slid into the back seat, shifting the day’s packages onto the floorboard. Henry didn’t open the passenger door for Sunny because that would have been weird. But he’d almost done it. Out of habit.
Sunny climbed into the cab, settling her own packages by her feet. She looked about as comfortable as a farmer’s goose on Christmas Eve. “This is a big truck.”
“I work construction.”
“For your daddy?”
“Yep,” he said, wanting to defend the fact he’d stepped into the family business. Wasn’t like he’d had much choice. A nineteen-year-old with a baby on the way and a new wife had to have money coming in, and though his parents could have footed the entire bill while he finished at Ole Miss, Henry couldn’t allow that. Wasn’t the man he’d wanted to be. Of course, he’d never wanted to work for the family business either. But life had a way of kicking you in the teeth. A guy didn’t always get what he wanted. “Since my father has sort of retired, I run the business now.”
“Daddy, you said we could get ice cream. I wanna see Miss Sassy. I lost another tooth, and she said I could get an extra scoop from the frog prince.” Katie Clare leaned forward and tugged on his sleeve.