“I’m such a loser,” she whispers when I come up beside her.
“No, you’re not,” I argue. “Now suck it up, buttercup. Hold your head up high and act as if nothing happened. Trust me you’re not the first girl to embarrass herself in front of her crush.”
“But,” she begins.
“No buts. Grab a tray and let’s head inside. Place a smile on your face and act like nothing’s wrong,” I order opening the back door and removing the top tray. Her brow furrows when I place the tray in her arms. The loaves of bread tip precariously, breaking her out of her funk. Picking up the next tray, I swing around almost hitting Brent with the tray.
“I’ll take that for you, ma’am,” he smiles shyly at me before looking over at Callie. “Your arm okay?” he asks and she nods looking down at the bread.
They lead the way into the back of the store talking softly as I shut the doors to the van. As I overhear Brent ask her to watch the fireworks with him, I give a mental fist pump. Callie’s ponytail bobs wildly when she nods her head.
At least one of us has something go right today.
Chapter Four
Zach
A clatter of metal from down the hall raises my head in the door's direction. I smile when I realize my mom is using her passive-aggressive way of waking me up. Not by knocking on the door or yelling but by banging around the pots and pans in the kitchen. When I was a teenager, I could tune it out but after so many years away, it jars me back to reality. One good thing about all the noise? It means she’s making breakfast. My stomach grumbles at the thought of bacon, eggs, and her homemade biscuits and gravy.
“Mornin’,” I yawn padding into the kitchen, my bare feet slapping on the floor. Instead of finding my mother in the kitchen, a big brawny bastard in an ugly brown uniform is sitting on the barstool at the counter, his hand dwarfing the white ceramic mug.
“Bout time you drug your lazy ass outta bed,” the deep voice grumbles in a perfect imitation of my dad’s as he raises the cup to his lips.
“Well, not all of us have to be up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure the citizens of Preston County are safe.”
He stands up, scooting the stool across the hardwood floor before engulfing me in a bear hug and lifting me about a foot off the floor.
“Can’t breathe,” I wheeze out causing him to laugh, dropping me back down.
“Jesus, Wes,” I cough out. “When did you become the freaking hulk?” I ask my baby brother. Wesley may be three years younger and two inches shorter, but he’s near twice the size of me. His biceps are about as big as my thighs.
His lips tip up in a grin. “Gotta stay in shape for the job. It’s hard to intimidate criminals if you’re a scrawny mother…”
“Watch your mouth, Wesley,” Mom warns pointing her spatula threateningly in his direction.
“Yes, ma’am,” he apologizes.
“Lot of crime these days,” I joke.
“Not bad. Usually, just the younger crowd when they’ve had too much to drink. A few scuffles over at Walk the Line,” he replies sitting back down when Mom places a heaping plate down on the counter.
“Walk the Line?” I inquire sitting beside him.
“The honky-tonk down on Fifth street. Owner’s dad is a Johnny Cash fan and named it after him. The place has grown a lot since you’ve been gone.”
“Main Street sure looks a hell of a lot different. Nearly ran the red light yesterday,” I confess.
“The last five years have really taken off. Lots of new business and tourism has boomed.”
“Speaking of which, Zach, what are your plans for the day?” Mom asks, dishing up my plate of food.
“Really hadn’t thought about it,” I reply picking up the mug of coffee she positions in front of me.
“We could use your help down at the marina. Lots of people have booked today.”
“Dad can only fit so many on his boat,” I chuckle.
“Well, yes, but there’s your dad’s boat, Jeff’s boat, and Jasper’s boat. Then there are the canoes, kayak and tube rentals.” I nearly spew out my coffee as she ticks off each thing.
“What happened to just Dad’s boat? Y’all really get that many tours booked?”
“Honey, we have to turn people away in the summer. Since the lake got on the map, we’re hopping. We’re building up a good following in the spring and fall too. Not as many of the kids just out for summer vacation. It’s a little less noisy.”
“If you need help, Mom, count me in,” I mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.
“Zach, don’t speak with your mouth full. Good grief, I raised you with better manners than that,” she looks up to the ceiling no doubt asking for patience from the Lord Almighty. “We’d appreciate the help. I’m sure I have a shirt you can wear.”
“What’s wrong with what I have on?”
“Nothing, dear, but all the staff wear a Marshall’s Landing shirt.”
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and she can find you a bright pink one like she normally wears,” Wes guffaws. Mom walks up behind me and pats my shoulder.
“As cute as you would look in pink, I’m sure there’s a blue one in the closet. Maybe I’ll get Wes to wear pink this weekend when he volunteers to come help too,” Mom smirks. The devastated look on Wes’s face makes it worth the smack on the back of the head that Mom delivers me when I stick my tongue out at him.
“You’re not four anymore, Zachary. Keep that tongue inside your head or I’ll cut it off,” she warns. My mother may be small but she’s mighty and can strike fear into the heart of her grown sons.
An hour later, I’m decked out in a blue Marshall’s Landing t-shirt with the picture of a bass stretched across the chest. Mom and I pull up to the marina squeezing into the tiniest parking spot I’ve ever seen. I can open the car door maybe five inches and try to squeeze my way out without hitting the jacked up quad cab parked next to us. Parents and children walk around the docks waiting for their turn to pick up their tubes. A group of middle age men are loading into one of the pontoon boats as Jasper carries two tackle boxes and fishing poles in their wake. Jasper has to be all of seventy by now and these jackasses can’t even lend a hand.
“Hey, Jasper, let me grab some of that for you,” I holler jogging over toward them.
“Much appreciated,” Jasper mumbles before he gets a good look at me. “I’ll be damned. Zachary Marshall, I haven’t seen you in a dog’s age. Finally made your way home huh?” he asks before handing me one of the khaki colored tackle boxes. “Would you mind grabbing the live bait from your dad? He should have everything ready to go.”
“Yes, Sir.” I jog back toward the office and see Dad standing behind the counter talking to a young couple. “Dad, you got Jasper’s stuff ready?”
“It’s on the table,” he huffs out taking money from the man standing in front of him.
Spotting the bagged up minnows and the two Styrofoam containers beside it, I scoop them up and head back outside.
“Here you go, Jasper,” I say setting all the items on the deck of the pontoon. “Need me to help with anything else?”
“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get these boys out there and get started. The sooner it’s over the better.” He stares over at the men, but they’re all focused on the deck where a group of teenage girls in tiny bikinis gather. “Damn perverts. Those girls are young enough to be their daughters.”
I keep my mouth shut because normally I’d be right there with them enjoying the sight. But his words make me think how I would feel if that was my daughter over there and a bunch of men were leering at them.
“Gentleman,” I speak loudly to grab their attention. “Maybe y’all can help stow the gear so you can get underway.” They grumble before moving. I show them where they can store everything and make my way off the boat.
A few hours later after loading up the trailer with kayaks and canoes for the river trips, patching tubes and restocking coolers, my stomach rumbles loudly and my feet ache.
; “Zach, honey, would you mind running into town and picking up lunch for us and the next tour?”
“Sure, Mom,” I reply quickly seeing my chance to make a break for it. “Where do I need to go?”
“It’s the Sandwich Shop on Main Street. Gloria will have everything ready. I ordered you a foot long ham and turkey.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She tosses the keys to her Tahoe and I make my way to town. The Sandwich Shop isn’t hard to find, and I luck out finding a parking spot right in front. A bell jingles when I open the door. When Gloria spies me in the doorway, a grin breaks out across her weathered face and she hurries out from behind the counter.
“Lord have mercy, it’s good to see you, Zach. It’s nice to have you home.” She wraps her arms around me as I pat her awkwardly on the back.
“It’s, uh, good to see you too, Ms. Gloria.”
“Okay, no time for dillydallying. I’ve got your stuff all packed up. The one with the blue tag is your order. I threw you a slice of chocolate cake in there too. Just don’t tell your dad,” she winks at me.
“No, ma’am, of course not,” I laugh. “What do I owe you?”
“Don’t you worry none about that. I added it to your dad’s tab.”
“Thank you. You have a nice day, Ms. Gloria. Don’t go breaking too many hearts.” I wink at her before I walk out the door. As I place the bags in the passenger seat, a flash catches my eye. The door from the bakery across the street opens, the sunlight catching it just right when she walks out. The breath catches in my chest.
Danielle. Dani. Memories roll over me like a freight train. Late nights on the dock. Skinny dipping in the lake. The look in her eyes when I told her I was leaving. The girl I loved and promised to come back for, taking her hopes and dreams with me. And left in the cold without a word later on.
All the sound of children laughing and people talking fade into the background. The only thing I can hear is the boom boom boom of my pulse. After fourteen years, she’s more gorgeous than she was when I left this one-horse town taking her heart with me. But it can’t be her. It’s an illusion, a figment of my imagination. Mom told me she moved away to North Carolina two years after she graduated high school. She tilts her head as if she senses my stare, looking around. My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at the peaches and cream skin, the slight upward slant of her nose, the pouty pink lips. Her eyes sweep across the road passing me over without even the slightest hesitation. Even though I can’t see them from here, I can still picture her blue-green eyes surrounded by mile-long dark lashes. On her return pass, her eyes stop on me, narrowing momentarily before a tiny voice yells out, “Momma” drawing her attention back to the bakery door. A tall dark-haired man is holding open the door as a tiny blonde sprite dashes through, straight into her arms. The smile that crosses Dani’s face turns something loose inside me. Happiness and regret. Happy she’s able to smile after I broke her heart. Regret I’m not the one placing the smile on her face like I used to. Betrayal burns the hottest when the dark-haired man embraces them both and Dani rests her head on his chest. As one they turn and walk back into the bakery. Leaving me alone, standing by the Tahoe on the side of the street, feeling things I don’t know how to explain.
How I made it back to the marina, I have no freaking clue. One minute I’m standing there watching her walk back into the bakery and the next I’m staring out over the lake. The water laps against the shoreline as I stare out the windshield. Tapping on the window sends my heart into my throat. Mom is staring in at me with a concerned look on her face. I turn off the car and open the door.
“Zachary, are you all right? You’ve been sitting in the car for the last fifteen minutes.”
“Blast from the past,” I mumble as I pick up the bags and get out. “I didn’t realize Danielle was back.”
“Oh, well, yes she moved back about two and a half years ago.” She takes the bags from my hands, avoiding my eyes before turning to walk back inside.
“The one with the tag is our lunch. Gloria stuck a piece of chocolate cake in there for me,” I call toward her retreating back.
“Damn, I guess she didn’t send me a slice,” Dad says from behind me placing his hand on my shoulder. “Gloria and your mother are conspiring against me.”
“Against what?”
“Eating anything unhealthy. Your mother worries too much. Take a walk with me, Zach,” he gently orders.
I follow him off the dock and we walk down the worn path to the lake.
“Saw Danielle, did ya?” No beating around the bush for my Dad.
“Yes, sir. Didn’t know she was back.”
“Why does it matter Zach? She’s in the past.”
“Doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t want to know.”
“Zach, you haven’t given a shit about anything that goes on with the town for over a decade.”
“That’s not true,” I argue.
“If it wasn’t true, you would’ve known how much has changed around here. That this isn’t just a mom and pop joint we’re running,” he gruffs out.
“I…”
“Exactly. You’re so self-absorbed that you don’t care about anything else. So why in the world would we think to tell you when Danielle moved back to town. Or how hard it was for her to get over the death of her husband and raise her little girl alone.”
“What do you mean the death of her husband?! I just saw her downtown with a guy! Seemed like they were awfully familiar with each other.” Bitterness seeps into my voice
“Well, whoever he was it wasn’t her husband. James was killed in action in Afghanistan nearly three years ago.”
“Killed in action?” I murmur. Jesus. Poor Dani. Even though it eats at me like a cancer to know that she married someone else.
“James was a decorated Marine,” Dad continues as he stares across the water, lost in thought. “He was killed a couple of months after Lila was born.”
“Lila is Dani’s daughter?”
“Yes, she just turned three,” Dad’s lips curl into a grin at the mention of the child. “Cutest damn little girl I’ve ever seen. Looks like a miniature version of her momma. Your mother and I get to babysit her every so often.”
“Why would you and Mom babysit?”
“Do you think just because you abandoned Danielle that we did? That girl meant a lot to us, still does.” The censure in my dad’s voice makes me feel about an inch tall. “Don’t expect us to write her out of our lives because you graced us with your presence.”
“Dad,” I start. He turns and stares at me unflinchingly.
“No, don’t Dad me. I’m not sure I know who you are anymore. I know that I didn’t raise my son to abandon his family, go back on his promises.” He takes a deep breath and runs his hands down his face. “I don’t blame you for wanting to leave. There wasn’t a lot holding you here. But it was like you hit the state line and forgot everything you did.”
“I didn’t forget, I couldn’t. But when I left, things changed, I changed.”
“But did it make you a better man?”
I’m not sure how to answer the question but my silence seems to be all the answer he needs.
Chapter Five
Danielle
I’m not sure what’s going on but ever since yesterday I’ve been antsy, hyper-aware as if something life changing is coming down the pike.
“Dani, DANI!” Callie bellows from the front of the store.
“Um yeah,” I call back.
“Are you going to get that cake out of the oven? The timer has been going off for the last five minutes.” She sticks her head through the doorway, concern etched on her face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” I smile but it feels like I’m trying too hard to convince her. And she’s not buying it. I open the oven door and pull out one of the three round pans.
“Sure,” she drawls as she pulls on the pink oven mitts and pulls out a second pan placing it on the stainless steel counter to cool. The
aroma of double chocolate cake perfumes the air. “What’s going on? You’ve been distracted since yesterday.
“You ever get the feeling that something monumental is about to happen?”
“No, I don’t think so,” her brow furrows.
“You’re probably too young,” I shake my head. “But that’s what it feels like.”
“Something good?” she asks hopefully.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “It’s like you can see the storm clouds gathering on the horizon and the air is charged, lightning just waiting to strike.”
“Maybe it’s just Mrs. Preston worried about this troll cake we’re making for her little princess granddaughter.” Callie laughs.
“Oh, God,” I groan, holding back the curse that wants to come out regarding one member of the family that founded our county. The one who thinks her shit doesn’t stink. Ever since she placed the order, she has called with her snotty, holier than thou attitude to make sure it’s progressing as it should. “Ain’t that the truth? If I get one more phone call about this damn cake, my head is gonna explode.”
“After tomorrow, maybe we won’t have to deal with her until next year,” Callie states her voice filled with hope.
“Only if this damn cake is perfect,” I quip, thinking about the amount of business she could bring into the shop if she sings my praises. “Let’s get this thing put together and shape it. I don’t want to risk waiting until the last minute getting this thing ready.”
“I bet she shows up at least half an hour early,” Callie murmurs.
“Then we need to get this rocked out. She won’t catch us with our pants down.”
Pieces of a Broken Heart: Whiskey Bend Series Book One Page 3