by Joanne Rock
A phenomenon she was sadly all too aware of after witnessing Pete’s housekeeping when she’d first moved in with him. That house with the sagging porch might still be a dump, but it was a clean dump since she’d lived there.
Now, all around them, kids talked, shouted and ran around aimlessly, chasing or shoving each other or half wrestling. Lunch was mayhem and usually she tried to shut it all out and read a book with her headphones on, but today she wasn’t alone for once.
“What looks good to you?” Davis asked, turning back to show her the contents of his lunch tray as they shuffled through the line. “You should pick the dessert.”
Lunch monitors refilled the cases as the kids walked through, carrying on their own conversations in the kitchen.
He’d asked her twice about food options already, trying to pawn off his quiche and his vegetables on her. Or, more likely, just being way too nice.
“I brought lunch. I’m good,” she told him for the third time. She was just happy to have him to sit with today. If she’d even suspected that having a boyfriend would quiet her critics, she might have tried harder to like one of the losers she’d tried dating.
Then again, remembering how many guys thought that a date meant a free breast grab, maybe not. Tough to like a dude who only dated you for your body parts.
“I’m going to guess chocolate cake.” Davis reached around the fruit cup and the pudding to slide a plate of cake onto his tray then flashed his lunch card at the woman wearing a hairnet at the end of the line.
As Mia followed him to the seat he chose—off in a corner and almost on their own except for two serious gamer types at the opposite end of the long table—Davis lowered his head toward her and asked, “How am I doing?”
“Are you kidding? We’re practically engaged.” She kept her eyes trained on him as they took seats next to each other. “It’s like we got totally boring now that we’re a couple.”
She grinned at him so that he knew she understood it was all just for show. Things had gotten interesting this morning in his pickup when he said he wanted their next kiss to be for real. Mia had thought about it almost every other minute, in fact, whenever she wasn’t worried about her dad dying, which was every minute between the Davis ones.
So much back and forth—happy and worried. But mostly worried. Why should she even be happy or start something with this great guy when she would be leaving Crestwood as soon as she was roped back into the foster system?
Anyway, she didn’t want to lead Davis on. He’d been too nice to her.
“I’ve always been uninteresting to everyone at this school.” He grinned back then slid a slice of quiche on a napkin to keep for himself while passing the remaining slice from his double order over to her. “Now I’ve shared my boringness with you. You’re welcome.”
“Um. I appreciate you sharing your dullness, but I can’t take your lunch.” She pulled the granola bar out of her backpack. The holes were getting worse in the black canvas, but she refused to put her clothing budget toward something so lame as a book bag.
“We can’t have a fight in the lunch room when we’ve only been dating a day,” he warned her, “and a good guy treats his girl. So eat up.”
Her stomach growled, making his case for him.
“Then thank you.” She didn’t want to upset him. And seeing him smile made her happy, too.
Strange how that worked. Like his smile pulled one right out of her. She wondered what today might have been like if her father wasn’t in the hospital right now.
Those machines ticking down his time.
She yanked open her granola bar wrapper with too much force, sending nut crumbles all over her lap. She swiped them off fast.
“As long as I have you in an agreeable mood, I’m going to ask you something else.” He set down his fork on the tray and opened his bottle of water.
“You want to borrow my social studies notes?” she guessed, remembering how he’d sat next to her in first period this morning and tried to steal her notebook.
She took very neat notes. Occasionally she drew illustrations in the margins. Especially of the bloodier battles because...why not? Doodling helped her stay focused while the teacher talked.
“That, too.” He tapped his foot in a drum rhythm under the table. His knee brushed hers every now and then while he did it. “But mainly, I wanted to see if you’d go to this family reunion thing I have to work at this weekend.”
She knew he worked part-time at the local pizza shop. He’d talked about it being a decent gig on their date the other night.
“Why would I go to someone else’s family reunion?” She ate the quiche slowly, savoring it. Since she did most of the cooking at Pete’s place, she did not take it for granted when food was prepared for her. “Especially if you’re working?”
“I won’t have to work the whole time, and you can come at the end of my shift when I get to hang out. It’s going to be a big party—good music, tons of food and whatnot. They’re doing it at Lucky’s and some of it will be outside near the park.” Davis’s silent drum solo picked up speed, his knee rocking harder under the table.
Was he nervous?
She hoped not.
“I’d like that.” She had to spend time at the hospital for sure, but all the more reason to have someplace else to go after that. Seeing her father’s decline was going to be...
Her chest hurt just thinking about it.
“Really?” Her pretend boyfriend’s knee stopped shaking. “Awesome.”
Mia watched him out of the corner of her eye as he went back to devouring his quiche, his leg still beside hers.
He had been nervous. Knowing that gave her butterflies, but it also made her want to do something nice for him. She didn’t want to make him anxious or anything. Before she could think about that any more, her cell phone vibrated on the table nearby. She flipped it over to check the message, her heart in her throat in case it was the hospital or Gabriella with news about her dad.
She didn’t recognize the number the text came from.
But as soon as she read the words, she knew who sent them.
I found you.
Her former foster brother. The boy she’d fought off with a knife.
He was coming for her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SOMETHING SEEMED OFF with Mia.
Gabriella hated leaving her behind as she drove over to the Hasting family reunion. The girl had been quiet and withdrawn since midweek.
The road was quiet and the weather had cleared up beautifully for the event, which would now be mostly outdoors at Lucky’s Grocery, also known as Lucky’s Back Porch, a popular summer gathering spot for locals. Clayton had taken his motorcycle and left early that morning to help Sam set up for the foster gathering.
Gabriella had stayed behind while Mia slept in, hoping she could convince the girl to attend the event with her as Mia planned to put in an appearance eventually. But Mia had been adamant that Davis wouldn’t be finished working until dinnertime and she’d take Pete’s car over herself then. While Gabby didn’t love that plan, she also hated to impose martial law on a girl who had been mostly independent for so long. Besides, she’d be at the reunion herself to keep an eye on the couple and see how they interacted. Mia had given Gabriella no reason to doubt her. Gabby had the benefit of being her confidante for too long to start imagining the worst of the girl now. So Gabby shook off her unrest and focused on the road ahead of her.
Warm sunlight slanted in through the passenger window of her rental car as she neared the town square that backed onto Main Street. Already, cars were lining the street, a sure sign she wasn’t the first to arrive at the Hasting family event. Hoping to enjoy the day for Clay’s sake most of all, Gabriella told herself that Mia was just upset about her father. Understandably so, given that
Pete Yancy had been in and out of consciousness since entering the hospital, and more belligerent than usual the few times he’d been coherent. Twice, he’d thrown out visitors—his own offspring—who’d been kind enough to try and sit with him, accusing them of “gawking” and threatening to call security.
But Gabby couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to it than that. Mia had seemed to put her frustrations with Clay and Gabby behind her enough to have normal conversations, sparing them the extended silent treatment that could wreak havoc on a relationship.
Mia hadn’t been terribly chatty, either. And since midweek the girl had been jumpy and nervous. When Gabriella had asked her about it, she’d insisted she was fine. Normally, Gabby might have worried about the new boy in her life, but she’d met Davis Reed after school Wednesday and she’d liked him right away. Liked how Mia seemed with him—sweet and a little enamored.
What was she missing? And how was she supposed to pry it out of a girl who’d clammed up tighter than a hermetically sealed door when it came to her deepest thoughts?
Promising herself to keep a close eye on Mia this afternoon at the reunion, Gabriella parked her car close to Last Chance Vintage. She peered in through the shop window to see if Erin Finley was there, wanting to thank her for giving Mia a chance to work off the clothing debt at the store, but Gabriella didn’t recognize the woman at the register so she hurried down the street toward Lucky’s.
On weekend summer nights, Lucky’s Grocery turned into an outdoor rib joint with live music and picnic tables dragged over from the town gazebo. Zach had told her the live music and dancing brought out people in droves, which was good for local businesses. All the vendors on the town square stayed open later and did more business because of it.
Lucky’s had been in operation when Gabriella lived in Heartache, but at that time, there hadn’t been any “Back Porch” events. As she neared the park that backed up to the store, she could see kids running around on the playground near the gazebo while moms clutched disposable coffee cups. A bunch of white lights hung from low tree branches, and a handful of patio heaters lined the tables on the wide deck. No doubt those would all be in use after sunset, but right now her phone weather app showed sixty-four degrees.
A handful of musicians joked around on a sound system, running mic checks and tuning instruments. She thought she recognized one of the Finley brothers—Mack, she guessed—helping haul a large amplifier out of a pickup truck bed and into position near the temporary dance floor set up on the grass. Someone else jogged out to him with a long lead cord, and as soon as that was hooked up, the sound check became clearer. The musicians cheered, breaking into a spontaneous bluegrass riff to celebrate.
“Gabriella!”
Hearing her name called from the direction of the main building, she peered through a small crowd setting up food stands. More pickup trucks were parked there with tailgates down, spilling out cases of beer and soda, stacks of rolls, paper goods and coolers. Overhead, she spotted a handmade banner reading Happy Reunion Hasting Family strung between two tall trees, but didn’t see anyone she knew.
Until a pair of khaki-clad legs climbing down a ladder turned into a whole person.
Her brother, Zach.
She quickened her step toward him and he did the same, artfully dodging a couple of people who shouted greetings his way and looked like they would have stopped to talk.
No surprise to her, Heartache’s mayor was a popular guy around here.
“Hey, sis.” Reaching her, he pulled her in for a hug and tugged her ponytail as if she was twelve. Not that she minded. She had always adored her big brother. “It’s the first time all week I’ve seen you without a certain someone glued to your side. Figured I’d better get my hug in fast.”
“I couldn’t hold Sam’s hand anymore, now could I? Amy Finley would have my head,” she joked, linking arms with Zach and strolling with him to a quieter part of the lawn outside the setup frenzy. Of course, her long-ago crush on Zach’s best friend was hardly a secret. “Clay has been really good to be with me through this whole week of court.”
She’d gladly accepted a role in helping him get to know Mia in exchange for his company during the trial, welcoming Clay into the in-law accommodations each day even though he could have stayed in the main house. They’d fixed dinners together. Laughed together. And after Mia went to her room for the night...they’d wound up in Gabriella’s bed more evenings than not.
“You didn’t have to attend the trial, you know,” Zach reminded her.
“Yes, I did.” She understood that more with each passing day of testimony against Jeremy Covington, with each exhibit showing how he’d targeted young women, but also accessible women who wound up in his quarry alone at night. “I wish I could have spoken out against him in court, but at least my testimony is on file. Part of Exhibit 3-A, right?” She squeezed his arm lightly. “I need to see him convicted. Close up.”
They paused at a random picnic table someone must have dragged too far to one side of the park area. They took a seat beside each other so they could face the reunion proceedings.
“I wish you didn’t have to go through any of it, but I’m glad it sounds like you’re doing okay during the trial.” Zach’s jacket fell open as he took a seat, because—true to his well-dressed nature—he wore khakis and a navy blazer while the rest of the world was in cargo pants and long-sleeved tees. “And I was only teasing about Clayton. I couldn’t be happier to see him beside you in court every day. No one should have to go through this without as much support as possible.”
“How’s Heather doing?” she asked, curious about the hint of sadness she heard in her brother’s voice.
“She’s handling it well mentally and emotionally.” Gently he pounded the heel of his hand against the wooden bench as he spoke, a soft thump that reverberated through her. “Physically? She’s going through a rough patch with the autoimmune stuff.”
Zach’s fiancée had been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis—or rheumatoid disease—Heather had told her in an email recently when she explained more about it. The condition had hit her fast and hard.
“I’m so sorry to hear it. No matter how strong she is emotionally, the physical part has to be really draining.” She covered Zach’s hand—the one closer to her—with hers.
“She wanted to be here today. Was hoping to play a set this afternoon, in fact.” He pounded harder against the bench before releasing a breath. “But she’s exhausted and her fingers are flaring up so it hurts to play guitar. I didn’t want to leave her, but—”
“I’m sure she wanted you to be here.” Gabriella hated to think of Zach’s vibrant fiancée hurting like that. It seemed so unfair to have a disease that compromised her ability to play an instrument when she was so incredibly talented. “And maybe it’s easier for her to sleep when she’s on her own.”
“I ended up getting us a house in Franklin for the rest of the week, hoping she’d be more comfortable.” He shrugged and looked more lost than she’d ever seen him. “I hate not knowing how to help.”
Touched, she tipped her head to his shoulder and wished there was something more she could do. Anything. But there wasn’t. Sometimes comfort and support had to be enough.
“Of course you do.” She thought about how many times he’d taken care of her. “You’re the best at fixing things for me. The older I get, the more I realize how kick-ass you were to get me out of Heartache and...make sure I stayed safe.”
Not just from Jeremy Covington. But from herself. Her despair.
None of which she had to spell out for Zach. He understood her like no one else.
Wordlessly he kissed the top of her head. She smiled for a moment, until it occurred to her that he was comforting her—again—when she needed to step up and comfort him. She straightened. Held his hand while the band on stage warmed up their vocals with
an acapella tune that traveled over the sound system.
“If you could fix me and all my issues when you were barely eighteen, then I promise you, you’re going to be everything Heather Finley could want in a supportive partner and more.” She gripped his shoulders when he didn’t look at her after her declaration. “Zach, I mean it.”
“She’s not like you, Gabby. She’s so damn...independent. So tough to accept help.”
Ouch. And double ouch.
She tried not to let it show that her ego just took a hard hit at his word choice, because Zach was right. She’d been too dependent on him for a long time. Too content to let him arrange her life and smooth the way for her. This conversation was about him, not her.
“The way I see it, you have two choices. You can either be low-key and discreet in the ways you make her life easier. Or you can remind her that it’s a joy to give to others, and try and let her know how much it would mean to you to be the one to help her when she needs it.” She recalled a psychology lecture about the way Western culture prized autonomy and individuality, sometimes at the expense of community and deep bonds, an idea she had forgotten about until just now.
“Wow.” A slow smile brightened her brother’s handsome face. “Is that experience talking or all those psychology classes you aced?”
“Maybe a little of both.” It occurred to her that Clayton wasn’t the kind to open up and accept help, either, picking his own way along with his father and Mia, even though Gabriella had tried to share insights about his half sister during the past week.
Should she push harder? Offer more? It was easier to give advice than accept it herself.
“Well it’s time you got the counseling certification, sis. You’ve always been good with the online community, but you’ve got a lot more to share.” Standing, Zach pulled her to her feet. “Come on. We should find Clayton. He came out of Lucky’s about half an hour ago to stare broodingly around the park. I’m pretty sure he was looking for you.”