Forgive & Regret

by Kaitlyn Cross

  Stella laughed. “Of course.”

  The band finished their song and the crowd broke into applause as Wendy and Stella passed the lit up gazebo. The greasy lead guitarist pointed at them before striking a heavy chord, spurring his band mates into a rocking cover of Tiptoe Through the Tulips. Stella and Wendy shared a tepid look and burst into laughter.

  “So what now?” Wendy asked, eyeballing some food carts. “You want another corndog?”

  Stella finished the last swallow in her wineglass and stared at Wendy, mulling it over in her head. They spoke at the same time.

  “Wine tent!”

  After a slightly inebriated giggle, they strode off for the other side of the square, the night as warm as Stella’s insides. It felt good to see Wendy. It was like high school all over again, just the two of them prowling the square before hitting the dark spots hiding around the lake where the real fun was to be had. Stella felt like her feet were floating above the sidewalk as they passed a long row of classic cars lining the street. Her eyes surveyed the shiny vehicles, searching the many colors for the midnight blue Shelby Cobra she Googled after her run out at the lake. It was silly to think Roman would be here and she blamed the wine. This was an event to showcase Cottage Grove and he could care less. He probably went to his condo in the city to regroup. Stella smiled at a young couple holding hands and lost in their own little world. She sighed, head buzzing under the party lights and cherry blossoms as she pictured strolling the square with Sawyer, hand in hand and lost in each other’s smiles – like they wanted to do in high school but never could. Not out in the open.

  Her high heeled boots clicked in rhythm with Wendy’s against the cement, tulips of every color lining both sides of the wide walkway. The smell of roasted nuts and cotton candy swirled in the air, sprinkled with bursts of laughter and bubbly conversations. Stella tripped and grabbed Wendy’s wrist for support. They laughed and locked arms, skipping down the sidewalk.

  Inside the wine tent, they ordered two more glasses from Jase, who was busy serving out his annual volunteer bartending stint behind a saloon-style bar.

  “You look so cute!” Stella said, admiring his old fashioned tuxedo and bowler hat.

  He tugged at his bow tie. “I’m hotter than hell in this thing.”

  “You are right about that,” Wendy replied, eyeballing him up and down.

  Jase bent an eyebrow into his forehead and poured them some wine while Stella searched the crowd.

  “I know who you’re looking for,” Wendy said. “Just text him.”

  For a moment, Stella wasn’t sure if Wendy was referring to Roman or Sawyer, which made no sense. Wendy had no idea about Sawyer, but that’s what popped into Stella’s head and it pissed her off. Here this gorgeous man named Roman Weathers had gone to so much trouble to get close to her and she was still thinking about Sawyer. “Who?”

  “Roman. Who do you think?”

  “No way.”

  “If you don’t text him I will. I’ll pretend he needs to come sign some papers for the house.”

  Stella’s face stiffened. “You wouldn’t.”

  Wendy pulled a cell phone from the purple purse on her shoulder. “Come on, Stell, be reasonable.”

  Stella thanked her brother for their drinks and handed a plastic glass to Wendy, her head buzzing under the big top. “He’s probably not even in town.”

  “That house is furnished. He’s probably sitting around watching TV, bored out of his mind.”

  “Maybe.”

  Wendy’s brow line plunged along with the gravity in her voice. “I dare you to text him.”

  Stella studied her for a few nonplussed seconds, lips curling at the corners. “That doesn’t work on me anymore.”

  Wendy cocked her head to the side and tapped a boot against the trampled grass.

  Stella sighed. “Okay, fuck it,” she said, taking her phone from her bag.

  “That a girl!”

  In reality, there was nothing to lose except her dignity. But, truth be told, she lost that a long time ago. Stella stopped typing with her thumbs and looked up, blood going to her head. “Should I hit send?”

  “Do it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Stella!”

  Wendy snatched the phone and Stella yanked it back, her thumb brushing the send button. Her pulse quickened as she watched the transmission slowly complete. “Dammit, Wendy!”

  Wendy threw her head back and laughed. “You look so desperate now!”

  Stella’s face fell. “What!”

  “Why would you send him a text like that?”

  “Because you told me to!”

  “Not like that!”

  “What!”

  Wendy laugh so hard she started snorting, which only made things worse. When the air finally returned to her lungs Wendy let out a long sigh. “Girl, I’m just playin with you!” She ran a finger under an eye. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

  Stella threw the phone into her bag. “You are such a bitch.”

  “Stop, you’re going to smear my eyeliner.”

  Stella searched the happy faces in the tent, most of which she didn’t recognize. Had she really been unplugged that long? Long enough for people to change so much, she barely recognized anyone?

  “Why didn’t we keep in better touch?”

  Stella swung her gaze to Wendy, corners wrinkling around her bloodshot eyes. The crowd grew louder in the lull between them. Her mouth opened but guilt blocked her words. “I…”

  “I wanted to help you through it.”

  Stella lowered her shameful gaze to her tall boots, saddened by the remnants of that night following her wherever she went. “I just needed to be alone for a while.”

  “A while? You mean four years.”

  Stella looked up, people talking too fast around her. “I should’ve called and I’m sorry, Wendy.”

  Wendy stared at her through thin eyes, weighing Stella’s testimony beneath the tent lights. Then her face relaxed. “I’m just glad you’re back, and I hope we can hang out like this more often. I really missed you.”

  “I missed you too.”

  They hugged and drew apart, smiles pulling into their faces.

  Wendy raised her glass. “To old times?”

  “To old times.” Stella touched her glass to Wendy’s and took a long drink.

  “Stella Talvert?”

  Stella turned to the high school girl with short, curly hair and a red dress, slowly lowering her glass. “Yes?”

  “Tulipgram!” the girl announced, sending the tent into a round of applause like Stella had just won the lottery. The girl’s smile stretched into her freckled cheeks as she pulled a blue tulip from a curved basket of flowers. “From Yours Truly!”

  The crowd cheered again, showering Stella with their wholehearted approval.

  Stella took the flower by the stem, her cheeks turning red with so many eyes upon her. “Thank you, sweetie,” she said, watching the bubbly girl go bouncing after her next victim.

  Much to her chagrin, the crowd began its chant: Read it! Read it! Read it! Stella shut her eyes and smelled the tulip, bringing back memories of the past. Tulipgrams were like Valentine’s Day cards in April, sent from lovers and haters alike. When she was young, every girl wanted one and would hang them in their rooms like badges of honor, long past when the petals wilted away.

  “What’s it say?” Wendy stared at the tiny envelope tied to the stem with a thin red streamer, straining for a peek inside.

  Stella looked up to the chanting faces around her and pulled the card out, pulse racing. It had to be from Roman. He was here after all. Her eyes swept the card from left to right and back again, her brow slowly crumpling.

  Read it! Read it! Read it!

  Wendy shifted in her boots, peering over the top of the card. “Well?”

  Stella glanced at Wendy and took a deep breath that silenced the crowd. She could hear her heart beating in her chest, feel her toes tingling in
her boots. Her eyes met the ones looking back. “Roses are red, this tulip’s blue. All that I have is nothing without you.”

  The crowd burst into cheerful applause, trailing off when Stella cleared her throat. The tent-goers fell quiet with drinks in their hands and eagerness in their eyes.

  She filled her lungs and continued. “But the roses are wilting, the tulips are dead. I’ll be watching from under your bed.”

  Collectively, the crowd hesitated for a long moment, uncertain of their impending verdict. Stella swallowed. Wendy took a step back. The music out on the green stopped. A tall man in a top hat stepped forward in a tuxedo with long tails, drawing everyone’s eyes. He stared at Stella and examined the lines in her downturned face. Pressing his lips together in a derisive manner, he lifted his port glass into the air, sending the whole place into a standing ovation. Stella closed the card and looked away, mystification warping her sheepish smile.

  Wendy frowned at Stella as the crowd returned to their drinks and predictions about who was going to win this year’s tulip contest and who wasn’t. “Roman?”

  “I doubt it. He’s never even been to Tulipfest before,” Stella said with Sawyer parading through her mind. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. First, the flowers at Hank’s house and now this. That smug bastard didn’t know when to take a hint.

  “Then who?”

  “I have no idea, Wendy,” Stella lied. “I just got back.”

  Wendy pulled her hair from her denim jacket. “I would give anything to attract deranged stalkers like you.”

  “I’m sure you will meet a very special stalker of your own someday.”

  “You really think so?”

  “You are so stalker material.” Her cell phone rang in her purse, cutting through the festive crowd and sending charged needles into her skin. She studied the screen, pulse spiking. “Speak of the devil.”

  “Roman? Is he here?” Wendy swung her gaze around.

  “He’s on his way from the lake house!”

  They hugged and screeched with excitement, spilling their wine and drawing some eyes.

  “This calls for a toast,” Wendy said, hoisting her glass high into the air. “To Stella and Roman, my heart is ever at your service!”

  Stella couldn’t stop the smile on her lips and took a calming breath before clinking glasses and tipping them back. She gestured to the bar with her empty glass. “I got this one,” she said, towing Wendy through the euphoric crowd humming in her ears while the anticipation of seeing Roman hummed between her legs. She ran a hand through her hair, heart beating faster. Suddenly, everything was brighter and louder, the reveler’s laughter contagious. A portly man in a black tuxedo stepped aside, coattails flowing down his back like wings. His eyes sparkled when he smiled. He tipped his towering top hat to them as they squeezed past.

  “Thank you,” Stella said.

  “Tis my pleasure, my lady,” he said, continuing on his way with a spring in his step.

  At the wooden bar, Stella pushed through the masses and ordered two more glasses of cab from Jase, who gave her a quick scowl before setting four beer bottles in front of a group of guys who looked like they were still in high school. Animated conversations rose and fell around them like sheets in the wind. Her eyes roamed the large tent, snagging on the few men with long dark hair. She leaned into Wendy. “This place is getting packed.”

  “Oh, I know,” Wendy said over the noise. “You know it’s turning into a party when everyone starts getting loud!”

  “Why are you shouting?”

  “Am I?”

  Stella laughed as Jase – down to a white dress shirt and red suspenders – dropped off their drinks.

  He leaned over the bar, sweat glistening on his brow. “Can you and Wendy jump behind the bar for a minute and give us a quick hand?” Jase glanced at his two elderly coworkers. “We are in the weeds, and I’m pretty sure Maude and Clark are drunk as hell.”

  Stella passed Wendy a glass and cheered him with her own. “No thanks,” she said, waltzing off toward the other side of the tent.

  Wendy grabbed Stella’s arm to keep from getting separated. “Are you excited?”

  Stella spread a bashful grin. “Yes!”

  “I still can’t believe he leased a place in Cottage Grove. How do you do that? Seriously, what’s your secret?”

  “Maybe he really needs someplace to unwind from work.”

  Wendy pulled Stella to a stop, her eyes widening. “Or maybe he’s a serial killer stalking his next victim!”

  “Who’s a serial killer?” came a voice from behind.

  Stella cringed and turned to find Sawyer’s shit-eating grin lighting the tent up like the Fourth of July. Her heart picked up the pace in her chest. Through her wine-goggles, he looked more beautiful than ever before. Her chest rose and fell beneath her coat. He was actually glowing. Or maybe it was just the lights. Weak in the knees, Stella grasped for something to say.

  “Her boy-toy, Roman.” Wendy nudged Stella in the side. “Man leased a lake house for her today.”

  Sawyer replied with a shallow nod. “That guy? Definitely a serial killer.” He traded a sideways glance with Wendy. “We should black-light him for blood splatter. Do you have a black-light?”

  Wendy’s face soured. “Why are you looking at me? Because I’m black?”

  Sawyer tipped his head back and laughed.

  “What are you doing here?” Stella panted, the tent beginning to whirl around her.

  Sawyer’s eyes zoomed in on her, his smile fading. “I’m meeting Jase. He’s supposed to be getting off soon.”

  “Careful, Sawyer, he’s busy as hell and looking for volunteers.” Wendy stood on her toes and hugged Sawyer tight while he stared at Stella over her shoulder. Wendy pulled back and rubbed his arms. Her smile left a glimmer in her eyes that Stella didn’t like. “I’ll get you a beer, handsome, so you don’t get roped in.”

  “Wait,” Stella shouted a moment too late.

  Sawyer jerked his chin at Wendy, watching her slip through the crowd. “I take it she doesn’t know about us.”

  Stella tucked a golden strand of hair behind her ear and shifted in her thigh-high boots that made her look like Catwoman. “Nope.”

  He nodded, his eyes devouring her while Wendy was away. “Probably safer to keep it that way, huh?”

  “You think?” Stella gestured with the tulip. “Which is why this isn’t a good idea.”

  He chuckled. “What? You think I sent that?”

  She flattened her lips.

  Sawyer snatched the card from her hands and read it before handing it back. “Sorry, not me.”

  “Whatever,” she said, stuffing it into her purse and keeping a nervous eye out for Roman.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, babe,” he said, unzipping a leather jacket to expose a black V-neck hugging his muscular chest beneath. The scent of his cologne released, floating straight to her nose, igniting that something she could never explain.

  “Well, I should see what’s keeping Wendy.”

  “Did Jase tell you he drove a sledgehammer through one of my mom’s kitchen cupboards and went right through a water pipe?” He shook his head. “Place got soaked.”

  She bit back a laugh, swimming in his eyes, head tipsy with wine. “That’s awful!”

  “Floor’s probably ruined.”

  “Oh no.”

  “I was going to change it anyway. In fact, I’m thinking about knocking out a wall and opening up the kitchen to the living room.” His golden gaze thinned, freezing her in place. “I could really use your designer eye on this before handing Jase the sledgehammer again.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, that’s what you went to school for.”

  A burst of air ruffled her lips. “Yeah, and we all know how well that turned out.”

  Sawyer got quiet, turning something over in his head, and went for the jugular. “I know it would’ve meant a lot to my mom if you put your touch on it.”

  Stella st
ared hard at him for a speechless second and then slapped his arm. “You are such an ass!”

  Sawyer cracked up. “What? It’s true!”

  “That is a horrible thing to say. God!”

  His laughter slipped off into the energetic horde around them. He stuffed his hands into his jeans that showed off his sexy ass and Stella knew she couldn’t step foot inside that house. It would be the end of her. Just looking at him now told her everything she needed to know. She drank her wine, and kept a casual eye peeled for Roman. If he showed up right now, it would be the end of her as well.

  Her red nails chattered against the plastic wineglass. “Well, I hope it all works out,” she said, smiling politely. “Good seeing you again.”

  His eyes caught hers. “It really would help me out.”

  “Fine!” she snapped, taking a long drink that polished off her glass.

  Sawyer watched her with that grin sneaking through his scruff, looking like he just got away with murder. “We could go take a quick look right now if you wanted.”

  A sharp laugh burst from her lips.

  He tried swallowing his smirk. “I’ll ask again after the next drink.”

  Stella grunted. “Probably won’t take much more.”

  “There you are!”

  Her blood turned to ice with the familiar sounding voice rising over the crowd.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!”

  Spinning on her heels, she suddenly felt way more inebriated than she did ten minutes ago. Her eyes climbed her father’s hulking frame, coming to a stop on the bitter smile curling into his rosy cheeks – a sure sign he’d had a few.

  “I have someone who is crushed you blew us off today!” Hank looked to the tall blonde standing next to him, his face beaming with pride. “Stella, this is Vicky.”

  Stella tried to reel her jaw in but it was too damn heavy so she gave up. Outside of a cheap porno, Vicky looked nothing like a librarian.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Stella shook Vicky’s hand on automatic pilot, and then proceeded to take a drink from her empty glass like a complete fool. Blushing beneath the twinkle lights strung from the underbelly of the tent, she cleared her throat and was about to speak when Vicky beat her to it.