Something to Prove

by Kimberly Lang

  “Well—”

  “You are a grown man, with a position of authority and respect in this community, and you’re brawling—in public, no less—like an adolescent thug?” So much for doing that explaining himself. She wasn’t shouting, but it was awfully close to it. Tank jumped to his feet as her voice started to rise, barking and growling. “Tank, hush. Now,” she snapped in the exact same tone, and Tank went back to his bed. Quietly.

  He couldn’t blame Tank. He might be a grown man, but his mother could make him feel fifteen again with just her tone of voice. “It wasn’t actually a brawl—”

  “I don’t care what you want to call it. I raised you better than that.”

  “I was defending the honor of a lady. Surely that’s a suitable reason.”

  “Helena?”

  He went back to the couch and sat with a sigh. “Yes, Mother. Helena. But you knew that already.”

  A tiny shrug acknowledged that fact. “And you couldn’t have done it in a more civilized manner?”

  “Not really. Mike Swenson deserved a hell of a lot more than he got. He’s been spreading rumors about Helena since she was seventeen.” That would put his mother in an awkward position, he knew, weighing justice against propriety.

  Instead, she skewered him with a look. “Exactly how serious are things between you and Helena?” She lifted a finger in warning. “And don’t try to feed me cow patties and tell me it’s pudding. If you’re taking on the whole town for her, then you’ve come quite a long way pretty fast, considering that dinner the other night was just ‘a casual, friendly outing.’”

  Never lie to your mother. It will come back to haunt you. But that didn’t stop him from contemplating a half-truth, even though he couldn’t come up with one. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and sighed. “Honestly, at this point, I don’t even know.”

  “How can you not know?”

  “You’ve met Helena, right? Or at least heard of her? She’s not the easiest puzzle to solve.”

  She came to sit beside him. “I mean, how can you not know how you feel?”

  That seemingly simple question backed him into a very uncomfortable corner. Tank, jealous of their proximity, jumped up onto the arm of the couch and cuddled close to his shoulder. Petting the dog gave him a much-needed moment to think before he tried to answer. “I like her. A lot more than I thought I would. But it doesn’t matter. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

  He could tell that news surprised her. “All of this over a woman you’re not dating?”

  “Well, that’s by her choice, not mine. So I can relieve your mind on that much, at least.”

  “You can’t possibly assume to know the state of my mind about anything—especially since I haven’t come to my own conclusions yet.”

  “Then you’re the only person in town who hasn’t.”

  “Don’t get fresh. If you really like this woman, then I must not have full understanding of who she is. For the most part”—she glanced pointedly at his hand and rolled her eyes—“you have a good head on your shoulders. And you’re not one to be blind to the obvious or jump in over your head. If you truly care for her, then there’s more to her than I know.”

  “That’s the problem she seems to be facing all over town. No one seems willing to give her a chance.”

  “I think you’d be surprised. I’ve heard some rather good things about Helena recently. Even if you think she’s not getting a fair chance from people, she’s making it work.”

  “Well, it’s not enough. Plus, she’s determined to head back to Atlanta as soon as possible.”

  “I won’t deny that Helena’s got a tough row to hoe, but if you care about her and she returns that sentiment, you’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

  She made it sound so simple, like he could wave a magic wand and just make it so. “How?”

  “I don’t have a single clue.” Then she smiled. “I’m not promising it’ll be easy, but few things worth having are. And while there are some attitudes that will need to be overcome, your family will have your back.”

  “Yeah, right.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice, even though he knew his mother wouldn’t like it. “Shelby’s busy trying to set me up with every woman in town. Jamie’s horrified I’d even go near her. Adam and Eli are—”

  She waved her hand, dismissing all of that like she had been crowned Queen of the Universe. “Shelby needs a new hobby, Jamie needs to grow up, and Adam and Eli will support you in your decisions because it is the right thing to do. Just like your daddy and I will.”

  Because if they didn’t, Mom would kill them.

  “Everyone else will come around eventually,” she added.

  It sounded good, but . . . “You seem to have forgotten the small but important fact that Helena broke up with me.”

  “That’s something else entirely, and you’ll have to sort that out between the two of you. But once you do, maybe you could bring her over for dinner sometime and let us meet her properly. In the meantime”—she leveled a chastising look at him—“we will use our words, not our fists, to make our point, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Although he couldn’t promise he would never hit Mike Swenson again, he at least wouldn’t make the mistake of doing so publicly.

  Mom reached across him to scratch Tank’s head. He reveled in the attention. “I found an adorable new pattern for a sweater for Tank. We don’t want him to get cold this winter, do we?” she cooed. “He doesn’t have a light green one yet, does he?”

  That might be one of the few colors Tank didn’t have. “Mom, I have the best dressed dog in Magnolia Beach already—much to my embarrassment,” he added. “Don’t feel like you have to do it.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Oh, I would much rather be knitting booties and hats for a pack of adorable grandbabies, but my sons seem determined to deny me that joyful chore.”

  Boom! He’d left an opening, and she’d effortlessly landed the hit like a pro. At least his mother was a gracious winner and didn’t belabor the point. She gave Tank one last pat, kissed him on the cheek, and left—still smiling.

  He picked up his phone with the idea of calling Helena, but then changed his mind. Helena probably wasn’t in the mood to talk, and he had some serious thinking to do anyway.

  * * *

  Helena draped the chain and its pendant around Grannie’s neck. “Now, you have to wear this all the time, even in the tub. You can take it off when you go to bed at night and leave it on the nightstand, but you have to swear to me you won’t set one single toe on the floor unless you’re wearing it.”

  Inspecting it, Grannie frowned. “It’s ugly, Helena.”

  “It’s not a fashionable accessory, I know, but it means you’ll be connected to help every second of the day just by pressing that button. Trust me. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  The setup was impressive, and the peace of mind did make it worth every penny she’d spent. She’d even hooked the house’s smoke detectors into it for extra protection. “Anytime you need help, you just press that button and start talking. The operator on the other end can call an ambulance, the police, the fire department, or even a neighbor. I’ve already given them a slew of phone numbers, including mine, so you tell the operator what you need and they’ll help. Twenty-four hours a day.”

  Lord, I sound like the commercial. But she had to sell Grannie on the idea.

  “Well, if it will make you feel better . . .”

  “It will, Grannie. Otherwise, I can’t go home because I’ll worry about you the whole time.”

  An eyebrow went up. “So if I say I won’t wear it, you’ll stay?”

  “Grannie . . .”

  “I’m not going to apologize for wanting my granddaughter around.”

  “I love you, too. But I’ve got to get back
to Atlanta.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  She dodged the question. “You are, of course, welcome to come with me,” she offered, knowing full well there was no way Grannie would agree. “Two single girls living life in the big city . . .”

  Grannie shook her head. “I’ll pass, thank you. Atlanta’s not my kind of town.”

  And Magnolia Beach isn’t mine. “Mary Ellen is coming over this afternoon to talk to you, work out a schedule, and get acquainted with where everything is. You’ll have her for only a few hours each day, but she’ll cook and clean and run errands for you. Whatever you need.”

  “She’s a sweet girl and quite capable, I know.”

  “Mrs. Wilson and the others are still going to be around as well.”

  “Helena, darling, I’m an adult, and I’ve been living without you for twelve years now.”

  Guilt nibbled at her.

  “I’m not foolish, and I’m capable of asking for help.” Leveling a knowing look at her, Grannie asked, “Who are you trying to convince this is a good idea? Me or you?”

  “Both. I hate leaving you here—”

  “But you’ve been here long enough. It’s your life and you need to go live it.” Helena started to protest, but Grannie shook her head. “One day, I won’t be able to live on my own anymore, and you can take care of me all you want. But until then, make decisions that make you happy.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  “I know this has been hard for you—coming back to Magnolia Beach, I mean. But I couldn’t be prouder of you. Not only are you an amazing woman, but you’ve also handled your return with grace and dignity.” Grannie patted Helena’s cheek and squeezed her chin. “Now everyone’s had a chance to see the Helena I’ve always known.”

  Her eyes started to burn. “Thanks, Grannie.”

  “Just don’t leave your room in the same disgraceful condition you left it in last time.”

  Grannie wasn’t one to let things get overemotional, which Helena greatly appreciated. “And how would you even discover the condition of my room if you’re not supposed to climb the stairs?”

  “Don’t get cheeky with me,” Grannie warned. “So, how much longer do I have you for?”

  “If everything goes well with Mary Ellen today, I’m thinking I’ll head out tomorrow or the day after.”

  “That quick?”

  Like ripping off a Band-Aid. “No sense in dragging my feet.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

  “Positive.”

  “What about Ryan?” Grannie asked carefully.

  “What about him?”

  “I thought you two were—”

  “It wasn’t meant to be a big deal. We were just having some fun.”

  Grannie made a harrumphing noise, obviously disapproving of what “fun” might entail but not willing to commit to believing it. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

  And Helena was more than a little jealous of that skill.

  Chapter 18

  The problem with snap decisions was that there often wasn’t enough time to carry out the necessary plans to make those decisions work.

  But it all came together better than she could have hoped, and pretty soon Tate was loading her luggage into her car as Molly hugged her on the porch. “I stuck a box of lemon bars and a thermos of coffee in the front seat,” she said. “It’ll keep you fueled while you’re on the road.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m leaving. I’m barely fitting into my jeans these days. Do me a favor and check on Grannie every now and then, will you? Especially over the next few days. Just make sure things are settling in all right and Mary Ellen is working out.”

  “Of course.” Molly smiled, but her eyes looked teary. “Call me, okay?”

  “I promise. And you have an open invitation to come visit me. Anytime you want.”

  Molly wrapped her in a hug. “So do you. Come back soon.”

  She’d said her good-byes to Grannie inside, so that left only Tate, who was standing by her car, waiting. Molly went back inside, presumably to give them some privacy.

  As much as Helena had wanted to have a long good-bye with Tate, there simply wasn’t enough time. On the other hand, the time crunch almost made it easier because it couldn’t be painfully drawn out.

  “I’m really going to miss you,” he said.

  “I’m going to miss you, too. But I’m not disappearing this time. I expect you to e-mail me and call me and text me on a regular basis. I’m even going to set up a Facebook account so I can post pictures of LOLCats that I will expect you to like.”

  Tate smiled.

  “And I have a very comfortable futon that you are welcome to crash on anytime.”

  “Stay out of trouble, okay?”

  “You, too.” She hugged him tight. Oh God, this hurts.

  “Drive carefully. Text me and let me know you made it home safe.”

  “Will do.”

  Grannie, Molly, and Tate waved from the porch as she pulled out. After she turned out of sight, she pulled over and thought for a minute. She’d been able to put Ryan out of her mind the last two days just due to the number of things she had to accomplish before she left. Last night in bed, she’d even convinced herself that she could leave town without going to see him. Hell, she had the letter she’d written to him in her purse, ready to drop off at his office where he’d get it first thing tomorrow morning.

  But she wasn’t a coward. And she definitely wasn’t the kind of person who could just disappear on someone. Well, not anymore, I’m not. That was rude and mean and unnecessarily hurtful. She pulled out her phone and sent a text to Ryan:

  Are you someplace we could talk for a minute?

  At home. Come on over.

  It was almost perfect. She’d been afraid he’d be somewhere, like on a jobsite, where not attracting an audience would be difficult. On the other hand, now she had to go to his house, which would offer privacy and the opportunity for a whole different kind of awkwardness.

  Maybe she should have just dropped off the letter.

  It was a two-minute drive to Ryan’s, and he answered the door within seconds of her ringing the bell. Helena cursed her lack of foresight as she blankly stared at him, not knowing what to say.

  “Come on in.” His smile was understandably cautious, considering how they’d last parted ways, but he was obviously pleased to see her.

  Damn. Now this was going to be really difficult. “Actually, I can’t. I’ve only got a minute. I don’t want to get caught in traffic on my way home.”

  He chuckled at first, but the realization of what she meant came quickly after. Several expressions played across his face, but they were fleeting and she wasn’t able to identify any of them. “So, you’re really leaving, then?”

  She nodded. “Grannie is doing better than I expected, and it makes me feel a little superfluous. I realized I could finally go home.”

  “I see.”

  His terse words were making her purpose both harder and easier at the same time. “So I came to say good-bye and thank you for everything. It’s been fun.”

  Ryan seemed to find her words vaguely amusing, but he didn’t have much to say. It was extremely unnerving and rapidly became irritating.

  “Take care of yourself, Ryan.”

  “You, too, Helena.”

  She stuck her hand out. It was awkward and ridiculous, but what else was she supposed to do?

  Ryan gave her a long, unreadable look, then shook her hand. “Drive carefully. Bye.”

  Then he closed the door, leaving her on the porch gaping like a goldfish.

  You got exactly what you wanted. It was easier than you could have hoped. Why are you so perturbed about it?

  Because there was no denying that she was. Ryan had claimed to
like her, but if that had been true, he would have said something instead of closing the door nearly in her face. Instead, when it was time to say good-bye, he’d done so as if she were a tourist who’d overstayed the summer season and was finally checking out.

  Dazed and a little confused, she fled to her car.

  They were done and dusted and moving on without messiness or melodrama. Which should have been exactly what she’d been hoping for.

  Then why did it hurt so much?

  She kept turning it over in her head as she drove past the familiar landmarks of Magnolia Beach: the softball field, the high school, the library where Grannie had taken her for story time as a kid and where she’d hidden in the old research room to read romance novels behind the dusty encyclopedias as a tween. She passed Wilson Park, where the little kids scurried around on playground equipment and older kids snuck behind the tree line to smoke and make out, and the Civil War monument, which still had a chunk missing from the pedestal from the time Grady Unger got drunk and drove his truck into it. Every place in Magnolia Beach had a story—public and personal—and she knew every one of those stories, good and bad.

  The difference between leaving this time and the last time couldn’t be more stark. She’d been giddy with good riddance before, and she’d rather expected to feel the same this time around. Instead, she was bummed and confused about what she should be thinking or feeling.

  She stopped at the gas station just outside the Magnolia Beach city line—funny how she still knew exactly where Magnolia Beach’s police jurisdiction ended and the Mobile county sheriff’s began. A redheaded teenage boy came trotting out. She didn’t know him, but she’d lay down money that with that hair and that nose, he was a twig on the Anderson family tree. Unlike Atlanta, Magnolia Beach still offered full-service gas stations, and she left the boy to pump her gas, clean her windshield, and check the oil and tires as she went inside for a cold drink to take with her in the car.

  In the drink aisle, she heard, “Helena?”