Third Time's the Charm

by Liz Talley

  “Well, didn’t take long for you to settle in, did it, girl?” Sunny waggled the leash. “Let’s go out and potty.”

  The dog didn’t move because she didn’t particularly like the leash.

  Sunny sank down on the floor and patted her knees. “Come here, Fancy Pants. I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I won’t let you be cold or hungry. I won’t let a truck mow you down. Come here, girl.”

  Fancy inched toward her, ever wary, but she came to Sunny. Sunny took a moment to fuss over the dog, liking the way it felt to rub her bat-like ears and clench a fist in the ruff of her neck. The sarcoptic mange had made her hair thin beneath her neck and on her chest, but Sunny could tell the dog would have thick, gorgeous hair once she healed. She clipped the leash onto Fancy’s secondhand collar. “That’s a girl. Let’s go out and see what’s what in the hood.”

  Fancy pulled her head back, but with Sunny’s cooing, she finally took a few steps.

  “Mama, I’m taking Fancy out. Be right back.”

  “Stupid name for a stray mutt. Fancy, my ass.” Betty tucked something away with her good hand.

  “Are those my cigarettes?” Sunny said, dropping the leash and stalking over to her mother.

  “No.” Betty shoved whatever it was underneath her thigh.

  Sunny reached down and found her pack of cigarettes. Betty had had a stroke and was on enough medication to kill a moose. She wasn’t supposed to be sneaking cigarettes. “So these are yours?”

  “God, Sunny. I don’t have shit in life. The least you could do is let me have a smoke.”

  “You could have more in your life if you’d stop feeling sorry for yourself and stop stewing in your own poisonous juices. You can change, you know. You can do something more than sit here and watch television. You can do a lot of things, but the one thing you can’t do is smoke. Unless you want to have another stroke?”

  “Only if it will kill me this time,” Betty said, sounding defeated.

  “Good. Then I wouldn’t need your permission to sell the house.” Even as Sunny said the words, she knew they were the wrong ones. And she was sinking to Betty’s level. If she went down there, she might stay there.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Betty said, lifting up eyes the same color as Sunny’s. Sunny thought she might have seen some hurt radiating within the depths, but then again, it could have been the flicker from the TV. “You’re nothing like your sister. Eden didn’t like me much, but she was respectful and kind. You’re as empty as I am.”

  Betty’s words slammed into her. Empty. Was that what she was? “Maybe so, but I’m not taking your crap, Mama. You manipulate people the way you always have, except now instead of using sex, you use pity. The only way you’re going to get better is if people stop catering to you and expect you to be better than what you are.”

  “You’re a bitch.”

  “I learned from the best.” Sunny walked back over to the dog, who sat looking wary. She picked up the leash, telling herself to calm down. Dealing with Betty wasn’t easy. Especially after a long day of working at the school and attending the rescue meeting. “Come on, Fancy.”

  The dog obeyed, and they pushed out into the inky evening. Stars winked at them and cars whooshed past as they walked along the cracked sidewalk. Fancy sniffed every clump of weeds, every fence post.

  Sunny jumped as a truck pulled to the side of the road.

  Henry.

  Great. Just what she needed. Someone else to argue with.

  The engine shut off and the door opened. Sunny stopped, though she thought about ignoring him.

  “Hey, Sunny, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “You’re here, and I’m sort of unable to shut the door on you.”

  Henry stopped, frowned, and then shook his head. “Okay, yeah, I get you’re mad at me, and so I guess that’s why I’m here.”

  She didn’t say anything because she wasn’t going to admit to being upset, even though inside she was knotted up. No, not knotted, more like pressure building up. Grace’s words, Sassy’s remarks, and the whole kissing thing with Henry had compressed inside her until she felt like she might blow.

  “I know you say I can’t fix things, but we can’t go on acting like this to one another.”

  “Why not?” she asked, turning away from him and back in the direction she’d been heading. Fancy sniffed along the sidewalk.

  “Because it’s petty and we’re adults.” Henry fell into step beside her, his big body somehow comforting beside her even though she didn’t want it to be.

  She knew his words were true. They were adults. And maybe she’d been attaching things she shouldn’t attach to the stupid kiss last night and to the stupid residual feelings she obviously still had for him. She’d carried around the pain Henry had inflicted for so long now that it was hard to surrender it. Not like she was in the best place in life. Being rational probably wasn’t even an option at this point. “I guess that much is true.”

  His arm brushed hers, and she moved to put more distance between them. Her mind tumbled over and over itself, and all she could conclude was that she had tired of so much in life. What Henry had done to her once had been shitty, but how much longer could she hold on to the resentment, to the pain, to the… oh God… emptiness? She could go on being a bitch to him, acting like her mother, but what was that worth? Her pride?

  Maybe what it boiled down to was that she was just plain tired of being a victim.

  “Grace asked me to help with the 5K. I hesitated because of you, but I like helping my community. I’m good at organizing races, and the animal rescue is a good cause, so I told her yes. But that means over the next month, you and I will occasionally have to deal with one another. I know you don’t like me much anymore, but I’m hoping we can put all of this stuff behind us, including what happened last night.”

  She glanced at him. “You’re talking about the kiss?”

  Henry shrugged. “Not just that. Obviously, that was… something crazy and unintended. But I’m talking about the words we said. Some of them needed to be said, and it’s not like we can take them back.”

  “I don’t want to. I want you to know what you did to me.” She crossed her arms over her chest before realizing she looked pathetic. She dropped them and lifted her chin, looking him in the eye. “But I’m tired of being angry.”

  Her words were the only peace offering she had. She had to move beyond the past if she wanted to claim a better future.

  His shoulders lowered. “That’s good.”

  “Look,” she said, jerking Fancy’s leash when the dog moved toward a soggy mass of garbage that had been spilled from a trash can. “You’re right. We were kids. You screwed up. Hell, I screwed up. We both got hurt. And we’ve lived our lives. I’m not saying I forgive you, but then again, maybe I should. I don’t know. It’s all such a mess.”

  “You don’t have to forgive me, Sunny. I own what I did. I screwed up. But I can’t change it. I wish I could. But it’s done. I would rather we try to see who we are now. We don’t have to be friends, but we can set aside our past in order to help put on this race. So we can help animals like Fancy.” He bent down and rubbed Fancy’s ears. She ducked away and went over to smell a clump of new clover.

  “She’s still a little afraid.” And maybe Sunny was too. Trust was a hard thing to give when you’d been knocked down time and again for wanting to believe.

  “It’s okay, Fancy. You’ve probably got good reason.”

  The dog’s ears pricked, and she looked at Henry.

  “Hey, she knows her name,” Sunny said, glancing over at Henry, feeling herself soften. “I guess that’s what this rescue is about—do-overs.”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  Sunny looked up at the night sky.

  The concept of a do-over was ludicrous. She and Henry couldn’t start over. She knew too much about him. Like he loved strawberry shortcake and could fly-fish. She knew he had a scar
on the back of his thigh. She had once counted the freckles across his nose, freckles that had disappeared with age. Yet there was much she didn’t know about him, and she wasn’t certain she needed to try to know him better.

  Sunny ripped her eyes from the horizon and looked at the man next to her. “I think we can manage a friendship of sorts.”

  They walked a few yards before Henry dangled something in front of her eyes. Keys.

  “I’m going out of town for a week. Katie Clare has to have a small procedure on her eyes. I’ll be in Jackson until next Wednesday. This is a loaner from the Chevy dealership. Deeter says your Harley will be ready next week, and I hope you won’t be upset, but I called about your mother’s van and got a little ugly with the guy there. They’re going to pull her van up in the repair schedule so it will be fixed by the end of next week too. Riding a Harley in forty- or fifty-degree weather is tough. I get you’re an independent woman, but I doubt you want to lose your nose to frostbite. It’s parked over there.”

  He gestured to a small Chevy compact car sitting beneath the lamppost. She hadn’t even noticed it earlier.

  “Always fixing things for people,” she commented, taking the keys. She wanted to ask about his daughter. She wanted to thank him for being kind. And deep down in places she didn’t want to acknowledge, she wanted to kiss him again. But she did none of those things. “I guess this is a part of the old Henry that the new Henry never forgot. You’re a true Southern gentleman.”

  He gave her a shrug. “Can’t help who I am.”

  The same words Sassy had said earlier.

  Maybe people couldn’t help who they were. Maybe Sunny couldn’t help who she was either. Life had made her hard, but it hadn’t defeated her. She wasn’t going to let it.

  “I’ll see you when you get back. Grace mentioned another meeting on Wednesday. Until then, let me know what sponsorships you get for the race. We need those finalized by Monday if possible, so use that Delmar charm to get us some money. I’ll work on the logo. Peggy’s nephew is doing the race shirts and posters, but I have to have the logo to him by Monday. Lots to do, but we can do it. Sometimes a shorter deadline is better than having months. It’s going to work.”

  “Yeah, it’s going to work,” he said, his words sounding as if they were about more than the race. Henry seemed a bit lighter, and Sunny could swear she felt a bit lighter herself. Henry blew on his hands and then rubbed them together to thwart the chill of the night. “Better get back home. I have too much to do before moving headquarters to Jackson for a week.”

  “See ya, Henry.”

  “Yeah, have a good week, Sunny.” Henry jogged toward his truck and opened the door. The cab light spilled out, so she could see his features. He lifted a hand and then climbed inside, shutting the door.

  Sunny watched his taillights fade before heading back home. Her body felt frozen, but she wondered if her heart had started to thaw. Something inside her had shifted. Maybe she wasn’t as empty as her mother had declared. Maybe she still had something inside worth nurturing.

  “Let’s go home, Fancy.”

  Home.

  She’d said the words, but she knew the house on Park Street wasn’t her home. Not really. Or maybe it was a little. After all, she couldn’t point to any other place that could be called home. So, yeah, maybe it truly was home… at least until she could make a new one on the West Coast.

  Fancy barked and pulled toward the tiny house with the sagging porch as if she agreed.

  Temporary was better than nothing.

  March had come in like a lion. Or at least a really pissed-off kitty cat.

  Struggling to keep his jacket from flying up over his head, Henry walked toward the Lazy Frog and the meeting with the committee putting on the 5K race. He’d spent the past week doting on his daughter and running his son back and forth from soccer games and baseball practice. Katie Clare’s surgery to correct her slightly lazy eye had gone well, and his little diva had milked all she could out of being a patient. Ice cream, a new American Girl Doll book, and fuzzy owl slippers had been bestowed, along with the watching of Disney Channel every afternoon. He knew all the lingo and cute new boy bands. Go, daddy.

  He passed Sal’s New York Pizzeria, stopping to wave at Sal who stood at the register. Sal gave him a salute and mimed Henry giving him a call. Sal had a natural love of history and had joined the Rankin County Historical Society, even carpooling with Fred Odom—bless him—to the meetings. He’d been after Henry to join them. They were thinking about turning Greg Batten’s museum into the Morning Glory Historical Museum. Henry wasn’t that into history, but he liked Sal and the man’s enthusiasm for all things small town.

  Rosemary pushed out the door and fell in step with him. “Jeez, this wind is terrible. Okay if I walk with you? Sunny asked me to join the committee.”

  “Sure. Glad you’re joining up. We’re a bit behind on some things, and no one knows how to get people on track better than you.” He smiled down at the strawberry blonde who wore saddle oxfords. A pearl choker peeked out from beneath her oxford shirt. Rosemary indulged her fetish for all things vintage by dressing like a ’50s Barbie doll. He rather loved that about Sal’s wife.

  Rosemary made a snorting noise. “No kidding. Grace isn’t very good at details. I mean, one month to pull together a 5K? She better be glad she got Sunny Voorhees on board because—”

  “David,” he interrupted.

  “Oh, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, we can do it. Just not on a big scale. Won’t have as many participants as we’d have if we’d started months ago, but it can still make us money since so many people are donating services. I have a folder,” she said, holding up a red-and-white polka-dotted file folder. The wind battered it. She tucked it under her arm.

  “So you do.”

  “Hey, you’re a good-looking guy. You enter the bachelor auction this year?”

  Alarms clanged in his head. “Lord, no.”

  “Why not? You’re single, and it’s for a good cause. I talked Clem into doing it, and he’s moving away soon.” Rosemary slid a sly smile his way. “But maybe you have your eye on someone else? Someone who strikes up old feelings?”

  Henry gave her a deadpan look. “Really, Rosemary? Sunny and I negotiated a truce, and I’m hoping I can keep her from carving me up and dining on my liver.”

  Rosemary laughed. “No one eats liver anymore.”

  “Tell that to Sunny,” he said, trying for humor. Since he’d gone to Sunny’s house last week and waved the peace flag, he and his ex-girlfriend had been able correspond amicably about the 5K. Sunny had designed a cheerful website with frolicking puppies and cuddly kittens and started a contest to name the Rankin County Rescue. Peggy Lattier had taken care of filing for the nonprofit status, and Grace had set up a meeting with the director of animal control in order to facilitate a partnership so they could tag animals for foster. Once they had a physical location with regulation pens and facilities to take care of the animals, they could start taking animals from the shelter. Everyone had been working hard to get all the pieces in place. With the Easter egg hunt weekend approaching in less than three weeks, everyone had a long list of to-dos.

  “Come to think of it, she asked Sal for a recipe for liver and onions. I thought nothing of it at the time, but…” Rosemary laughed.

  “Very funny.”

  Rosemary paused outside the door of the Lazy Frog and turned her gaze to him. Her gray eyes seemed sad. “Sunny’s changed so much. That surprised me. I mean, I knew through Eden things hadn’t gone well for her. Alan and the miscarriages, but I didn’t know how… well, how different she’d truly be.”

  “Miscarriages?” His stomach sank. “Wait, more than one?”

  Rosemary’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Look, that wasn’t mine to tell. It just slipped out.” She reached for the handle to the door as if looking for escape.

  Henry set his hand against the door. “You can’t just say something like that and then shut me down.”

&n
bsp; “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m embarrassed to have done so, Henry. It was a verbal slip, a confidence Eden shared with me. Please don’t say anything.”

  “How many did she have?” he asked, his mind reeling at the thought she’d suffered through several miscarriages. She’d lost her husband last year, but the thought that she’d lost babies too made his heart ache. Rosemary pressed her lips together. He knew the woman was upset at herself, but he wasn’t going to just let it go. This felt like something he needed to know. “Rosemary, how many?”

  “Five.”

  “Oh my God,” he breathed. “Five?”

  “Yeah, the last one was a week or two after they reported Alan missing. She was four months along.”

  “Holy shit.” He felt like he needed to sit down. To punch a wall. He’d thought Sunny’s utter sadness had been because of the death of her husband. He’d hated himself for being jealous of a man he’d never met, a man who’d died for his country, but her sadness hadn’t been only for her husband. She’d lost a baby too. The fifth baby.

  Unshed tears gathered in his throat.

  Jesus.

  “Please don’t tell anyone I told you, especially Sunny. She doesn’t talk about it.” Rosemary literally wrung her hands together and squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m so appalled at myself for letting it slip. I guess it’s because I know you care about her. Or used to, and I just wasn’t thinking.” Rosemary looked pitiful.

  “I won’t say anything, but I’m glad you told me.” Why? So he could feel even worse than he already did for Sunny? She didn’t want his pity. She didn’t want his apology. She wanted to do what needed to be done here in Morning Glory and then get the hell out of town. Now he understood even better her need to move on, to wipe the slate clean and start over.