What She Wanted Page 15

  To my glorious surprise, Heidi marched through the front door with two of our friends from school, relieving me from the wretched situation.

  I smiled at Dean. “There’s Heidi. You should go tonight. Sounds like a good time for you.”

  Heidi squealed and wrapped her arms around my waist. “There you are! I tried your house, and Mark told me you were at work, but Essence is closed.”

  “Here I am.” I smiled at Trisha and Bonnie beside her. “Hey, how were your trips?”

  Trisha had gone on a mission trip with her church for three weeks after graduation and Bonnie had some family vacation I couldn’t remember where. Both girls were in enough of my classes to consider them as friends; though, we’d never spent any time together outside school. Heidi, however, considered all mammals friends, regardless of interaction time or common interests.

  “Are you sure?” Dean asked over Heidi’s red head. “We usually do dinner.”

  Blondie looked like she’d sucked a lemon.

  “Oh, absolutely. I have plans with the girls anyway.” I waved a hand at the trio beside me.

  Heidi turned from Dean in slow-mo. Her expression conveyed something along the lines of are you crazy and also liar liar pants on fire.

  I looked to my phone with surprise, as if I’d gotten a message. I sent Heidi a text. “Please go with this.”

  Dean scrutinized the action. He turned knowingly to Heidi and waited for the ding of her phone.

  Ding!

  She gave it a quick look and put on an overdone smile. “Yes. We’re having a sleepover. Bonnie, Trish, Katy, and I are going to do mani-pedis and watch Pitch Perfect 1 and 2.”

  Oh. My. Lord. I did my best that’s totally true nod. I’d only gotten to know Dean recently, but he seriously couldn’t believe that was my plan.

  “Okay. Sounds good.” He looked at Blondie. “I guess I’m free. Do you need a ride?”

  I choked on the implications and stuffed my straw into my mouth.

  “To the quarry?” he added.

  “That would be amazing.” She bounced onto her toes.

  He turned his back on us to settle details on the skinny-dipping.

  Jealousy seared my skin. I sucked long and hard on my straw to cool the fever. This was a ridiculous reaction. Dean wasn’t my boyfriend. We didn’t have plans tonight. What was my problem?

  Bonnie and Trish crowded into the space where Dean had stood, successfully bumping him farther away. Their frantic whispers matched the crazed expressions on their faces. “Holy Hawkeye. You’re dating Dean-freaking-Wells!” Bonnie marched in place, and Trish fake screamed. Very casual. Very cool. Not at all attention-causing.

  “We’re just friends.” We were friends, right? “Neighbors.” I glanced at Blondie, unable to let the pinch of unreasonable jealousy go. “Who’s he talking to?”

  Heidi scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? That’s Blaire Sweeney. Kylie’s uber-competitive cousin. Her family’s staying with Kylie’s family for a few weeks. They live in Manhattan.”

  Panic surged through me. “Kylie’s home?” If she was in town, my time with Dean was over. She was the reason we hadn’t spoken sooner. I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. I only had a few weeks with him as it was. He’d leave for school again too soon.

  Bonnie pulled dark curls over one shoulder. “No. I heard Kylie’s in rehab for exhaustion, which probably means she has an eating disorder or she’s pregnant.”

  Trish nodded. “Could also be alcohol.”

  Bonnie wagged her head. “No way. Not Kylie. Too many calories.”

  I looked to Heidi, who shrugged in limp agreement.

  Dean turned back to my tiny group and swung long arms around Bonnie’s and Heidi’s shoulders. The girls perked up immediately.

  “Where to now, Reese?”

  Their eyes widened on me.

  Blaire moseyed out the door, looking victorious. A dozen people went with her.

  I chomped my straw. “Home.” The defeat in my voice annoyed me. “I have to check on Mark.”

  “What time’s the sleepover?”

  I looked to Heidi. When was our fake sleepover?

  Bonnie nudged my knee. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up on my way.”

  Dean released the girls and extended a hand my way.

  I slipped my palm over his and he pulled me off the stool.

  Heidi watched our linked hands. “Have fun, Katy.”

  I waved good-bye with my cup and followed Dean into the sunshine.

  He cut the engine outside my house and turned on the seat to face me. “I’m not interested in Blaire.”

  I shoved my straw between my lips and fought a smile. I’d assumed the silence on our drive home was caused by Dean formulating the best way to tell me he was going to be spending more time with Blaire. Maybe even a custom version of “it’s not you, it’s me,” or how he really valued our friendship. “Oh?”

  “I’m going to the quarry tonight because it sounds like fun and I like hometown parties. It has nothing to do with Blaire. Being away is nice, but I miss it here. I think I’ve decided to move home after graduation and tackle the world’s impossible agricultural problems from my own plot of land in Monroe County.”

  I dropped the cup into my lap and gave him a long look. If anyone could change the world, it was Dean.

  His jaw tightened as he waited for me to speak.

  I had no idea what to say, so we stared one another down, squinting against orange sunlight streaming through the windshield.

  Finally, he turned away. “Have fun with the girls tonight.” He glanced at my hands. “Enjoy the mani-pedis.”

  My mind scrambled. Now I had to paint my nails. Did I even own nail polish? Did I have to walk to the store and buy some to cover the lie?

  I cracked the door open. “Okay. You, too. Enjoy the skinny-dipping.”

  He snorted a laugh. “For sure.”

  Well, he didn’t deny it.

  My feet hit the ground as Mark swung the gate open to our backyard and dragged a fifty-foot garden hose behind him toward the front porch. He yanked and pulled the green beast with one hand while dabbing sweat with the other.

  I slammed Dean’s door. “What are you doing?” I waved my hands wildly overhead. “Mark! Stop!” I shot a crazy face at Dean and launched across the front lawn toward the lunatic trying to kill himself.

  “What?” Mark stopped cursing the hose to stare at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? You’re outside in the heat, sweating and getting overexerted. You aren’t healing at the rate they want. You know that. You have to start listening and rest!”

  Dean’s truck rumbled to life behind us. He beeped the horn as he drove away.

  Mark made a sour face. “You two fighting?”

  “No. He has plans tonight.”

  He grunted. “Good. Help me finish watering the lawn before it rains.”

  I looked at the graying sky and laughed.

  Mark started.

  The insanity level at my house was rising and taking me with it. “Fine. Hold my malt.” I wasn’t clear on which of us was crazier. Him wanting the dumb grass watered before the rain came, or me for accommodating him. Either way, I had energy to burn and images of naked Blaire and Dean at the quarry to drown.

  I twisted the nozzle and showered the grass.

  “Not so much,” Mark lamented. “It’s going to rain. You’ll kill it.”

  I laughed again, enjoying tiny rainbows in the spray.

  Mark levered the lid off my cup and took a drag on my malt.

  “Hey!”

  “What? Now I can’t have ice cream on my heart diet?”

  I splashed him with the hose and he yelped. “That’s mine.”

  He hustled onto the porch and through the front door.

  I didn’t know whose life I’d fallen into, but I was positive I’d never see my malt again.

  Chapter
17

  I flipped through online articles in the Monroe County Chronicle, Special Edition. The annual Strawberry Festival had arrived, and the number of community events going down in one day was daunting. The headline, “Something for Everyone,” wasn’t a lie. There were community meals at local churches, pie eating at the Rotary Club, a flower sale at the bed and breakfast, a farmer’s market outside the library, and face painting, crafts, and story time inside. A carnival had set up rides, games, and food carts on the high school football field. Local bands were playing at the pavilion near the lake, and fireworks would cap it all off. Even the most ambitious local would struggle to do it all. I wasn’t ambitious. I’d attended the pancake breakfast at ten and come home to keep Mark company until the evening parade. Also, I’d needed to transfer pictures to my shared drive.

  Sylvia had texted, looking for some fresh shots, several hours ago, but I’d promised Mark to give an old black and white television series called Rawhide a try. I hadn’t hated it.

  I clicked into the shared drive and labeled a new folder Strawberries. Hard to believe it’d been exactly six weeks since my world went topsy-turvy. Stranger, I’d started marking time by Mark’s heart attack. How morbid was I?

  My mind wandered to Mom’s list, constantly pushing its way to the forefront of my mind. Mark and I were adapting to our new situation, but we hadn’t gone fishing. Whenever I’d bring up the option, he’d say he wasn’t feeling up to it. We hadn’t talked about our blowup over Joshua either, but that day was coming.

  Joshua hadn’t approached me since my birthday, but he always waved and smiled when we ended up at the same park or restaurant. The space he offered me felt like respect. Like, he left the door open for me to decide when we’d talk. I liked that. The hard conversations would be easier if I was in control. Getting to know Joshua wasn’t on Mom’s list, but it was moving to the top of mine, now that he’d become real. I’d spent too many years thinking of him abstractly, like Santa Claus, or angrily, like he was the devil. I’d never allowed myself the possibility he was flawed and human, possibly broken, like everyone else.

  Why wasn’t he mentioned on Mom’s list? Dean and Heidi thought it was because Mom had no reason to think he wouldn’t be in my life. She was probably too sick at the end to know Mark started turning him away. I hoped they were right and the reason wasn’t because Mom had known he didn’t want me.

  I shook my head to clear my thoughts and swung my bag cross-body. People carrying lawn chairs and coolers marched along the sidewalk outside my bedroom window. Time for the parade.

  I bounced down the steps. “Mark, I’m going to the parade. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

  “The game’s on.” His voice warbled in from the kitchen.

  I slid bare feet into flip-flops and moved to the kitchen doorway. “I can bring you an old-fashioned lemonade, if you want.”

  He snapped his head in my direction, apparently shocked to see me. “I can have sugar now? How about a beer instead?”

  “Nice try. You’re probably right about the sugar. There’s iced tea and Jell-O in the fridge if you want something sweet. Don’t snack too much. Mrs. Wells is bringing chicken and corn for the grill.”

  “Maybe she’ll get me some beer.”

  I rolled my eyes and rocked my head against one shoulder. “She’s going to take a look at you and ask how you’re healing. Be honest with her, please.”

  “What if she wants me to drop trou?”

  “Do it. You won’t get another offer like that anytime soon.”

  His crabby face twitched.

  “Definitely don’t smile. She could get confused and call an exorcist.”

  “Go away.”

  “See ya.” I didn’t need to be told twice. I loved parades. Everyone was happy. The firemen threw candy into the crowd. There was nothing more satisfying than catching free candy.

  I took a direct route toward the town square and reviewed the list I’d been working on all summer.

  I was down to half my original goals. As it turned out, Mark wasn’t all bad, just deeply hurt and unwilling to let go of the pain. It was as if all the things he’d once held dear had slowly become razors across his heart. Even the good memories were too painful to deal with, and it made him mad. He never smiled. He always grouched. He was aching inside, and I wanted to be more than his temporary caretaker. I wanted him to heal.

  Somewhere between the insults and tantrums, I’d learned to love him just as he was, and that was at the top of Mom’s list. I hugged him at least once a day, too. Sometimes he patted my back. I hadn’t told him I loved him, but I was working up to that. I’d laughed more in the past six weeks than I had in my life. I’d given a ton of pictures away, and a mob hadn’t come for me with torches or straitjackets. I’d made friends, and I smiled at everyone, even when I felt silly doing it. Some of the people Dean had introduced me to said hi whenever they saw me, even if I wasn’t with him. Bonnie and Trisha seemed to be everywhere since they’d gotten back, and I was kind. That came easily. Heidi had called me a doormat once. I hated to disappoint anyone. Whatever I was, I wasn’t mean-spirited or overly-selfish, so number eight was a no-brainer. Five down and five to go.

  Mom’s curly pink shimmer ink kept me motivated.

  If you do these things, I’ll know I was a good mom, and I’ll know you’re going to be okay.

  I hastened along the busy sidewalk, dodging kids and people too engrossed in conversations to notice one lanky girl and her camera.

  Today’s agenda: Chase my dreams. Mom had listed it second, so it must’ve been important to her. I’d missed my chance at a proper photography school, but I could always practice. Sylvia said, “The search for that one perfect photo is never ending.” I might as well keep looking. It would only take one amazing shot to change my life’s trajectory.

  I slipped through the crowd at the square and found a shaded place to rest and look for the shot. I liked the corner spot with a hunched rhododendron and clusters of leafy shrubbery. My view of the floats was minimal from this vantage, but I wasn’t there to shoot floats. I wanted to see the people.

  Music from our high school marching band pumped through the air, punctuated by the occasional smash of cymbals. I tapped my foot and hummed along as the color guard marched by to “Hang On Sloopy.” The salty heat of a mobile hotdog stand drifted up my nose and sent my stomach into a tizzy. I groaned at the sight of gooey nacho cheese.

  “Hot dogs!” he called into the crowd. “Coneys! Hotdogs!”

  The tang of sauce tickled my senses. Mark would be in heart attack heaven.

  “Hey.” A heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

  I winced.

  The harsh voice and man attached to it sent waves of apprehension through me. “Hi, Arnold.” His texts and voice mails had grown more fervent and belligerent over the past few weeks. As if it were somehow my fault he hadn’t rented the space above his bar. When I’d still wanted it, he said lots of other people wanted it, too. Where were they now? Why hadn’t he moved on?

  He scowled. “You said you were going to rent the place above my bar. You bailed on me, and I’m out all that money. You know how many people I turned down so you could have that place?”

  I lowered my voice, hoping he’d follow my example. “I’m really sorry. It’s true what I told you about my grandpa. I can’t leave him until he’s well. I told you as soon as I knew, but it’s not like I had any advance notice he’d have a heart attack.”

  Arnold loomed over me, sending chills down my spine and yeasty beer breath into my face. “You stiffed me, and I think you owe me for the inconvenience.” His voice ratcheted dangerously and his face darkened in anger.

  “What?” He thought I owed him more money? I could’ve asked for the money I gave him back, but I didn’t. That was money he was supposed to put toward my deposit. If I didn’t move in, shouldn’t I get it back? How had he turned this around?

  He spoke throu
gh gritted teeth, fingers curling at his sides. “You owe me the month’s rent you’d have paid by now.”

  I shuffled backward, bumping my heels into the narrow tree trunk. “No.” The word scratched through my tight throat. I couldn’t pay him money for a place I didn’t rent. I had to pitch in on Mark’s meds, and I didn’t owe Arnold anything. Panic crept through my limbs. I shot anxious looks into the crowd, hoping not to be seen in such a horrifying predicament and praying for witnesses if he lost his temper any further.

  Joshua skimmed through a break in the crowded sidewalk and stopped at my side. His expression seemed to hover between rage and fear under black wayfarers and a white ball cap. “Everything okay here?” He sidled closer, facing off with Arnold.

  “Nobody asked you, buddy. Me and my friend were discussing the weather. Go kick stones.”

  Joshua clasped his hands in front of him and stood silently at my side.

  Arnold shifted, foot to foot, slowly growing more agitated. “What the hell are you looking at, man?”

  Joshua widened his stance and drew back his shoulders. Nothing about him should have said lethal, but everything did. “Pretty sure I’m looking at grounds for harassment charges, possibly extortion. I missed the beginning of your conversation, but it wasn’t too hard to fill in the rest.” He looked from me to Arnold. “You sure you want to keep it up? She looks like a minor to me. You know what? Let me ask one of the officers patrolling this area. He’ll know what kind of charges she can press. Then you can make an educated decision on how to proceed.” He craned his neck to scan the crowd. “Here’s one now.”

  Arnold scrunched his ugly face in confusion. “Man, screw you.”

  Joshua shrugged. He lifted a hand overhead and motioned to a cop in street blues. “Let’s ask Officer Green.”

  Arnold’s attention ricocheted off the cop headed our way. He barked a few more colorful expressions and disappeared into the mix of locals.

  The cop shook Joshua’s hand. “Hey, Lowe. It’s been a long time, buddy. How’s it going?” He gave me a cursory look. “Was that Arnold Switzer you scared off this time?”