What She Wanted Page 19

  “I’d hoped to see Mrs. B while I was here taking pictures. Is she home?”

  “Yes. She’s coming along now.” He looked over his shoulder.

  “Is this one of your famous grandbabies?”

  “Yes. This is the newest member of our clan.” He turned the bundle of pink cheeks and delight in my direction. “Grace Katherine.”

  “Oh,” I whispered. “She’s beautiful, and sleeping.” I pulled my shoulders to my ears and covered my mouth. Her tiny eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay closed. The white cotton blanket swaddled her up to her chubby pink chin.

  “It’s no problem. She has older brothers. This one can sleep through anything.”

  I stroked the soft cotton blanket, feeling a little cocky that this little princess and I shared a name. “Katherine’s a great name, Grace. If you ever feel rebellious, I suggest asking people to call you Katy.” I smiled at Mr. Baxter. Powdery scents of baby lotion perfumed the air, mixing with the rich floral bouquet of Mrs. B’s gardens.

  I considered my next words carefully. Mr. B was a local attorney, and that came with plenty of legal gossip, but also client confidentiality. “Did you know the Lowes? Joshua’s back in town, and he wants to talk to me, but I’m not quite ready. One minute I think I am, but I get scared and change my mind. Scared of what? I don’t even know.”

  Mr. B. jostled his granddaughter and nodded sympathetically.

  “I don’t need any deep dark secrets, I just wonder if you can tell me about his family. Mark’s not exactly a wealth of knowledge.”

  “Well…Bernadette can say a lot more than I can on the subject, but I heard from Officer Greene that Joshua laid into Arnold Switzer after the Strawberry Parade.”

  My head lightened. Arnold hadn’t bothered me once since that evening. Not one call or text. I’d assumed Officer Green had gone through with his follow up. “What do you mean by ‘laid into him’?”

  “He went to Ray’s and yelled at Arnold about something, then gave him a black eye.”

  Air squeezed from my lungs. “Oh, no.”

  “Here she is.”

  Mrs. B stepped into view, moving slowly along the lovely garden path. She smiled when she saw me.

  “Hi, Katy.” She waved a hand overhead and moved a little more quickly in our direction. “I’m so glad to see you. I was just going in for some iced tea.” Lines of concern raced over her brow as she drew nearer. “Is everything okay? You look upset.”

  “No. I’m fine. I came to take some pictures and talk if you have time.”

  “Of course.” She took my hand and tugged me to her side. “Let’s go inside. Forget the tea. Let’s have ice cream.”

  We settled at her kitchen table, and I unloaded eight weeks of troubles over three scoops of Moose Tracks.

  She told me about the epic fights Joshua’s parents had gotten into when they lived in town. The times his mom had shown up at Ray’s with a baseball bat and dragged her husband home. She told me how quickly the Lowes’ talons had come out after moving here for a new start.

  “Joshua was a sweet boy,” she said. “Smart, athletic. He was an overachiever. He probably had to be to get any attention in the tragedy that was his life.” She sipped her coffee and watched me push the melty dessert with my spoon. “Mark treated him like a son until the end.”

  I dropped my spoon.

  “It’s true. Joshua made Amy smile, and that was enough for Mark. The fact he was our town football star for a while didn’t hurt either.”

  “What happened to him?” My hands flopped off the table and onto my lap.

  “Well, the way I see it, you can’t live like he did for that long and not get damaged. His dad was the town drunk. His mom was the local battered woman, always saying she ran into walls or fell down. No one believed her, of course. Everyone gossiped. That’s hard for a kid to endure. Then he fell in love, but Amy got sick and pregnant. The little safety zone he’d created for himself started falling apart, and he must’ve given up trying to put it back together.”

  I raised my eyes to her. “You don’t blame him?”

  “No.” Her voice was a whisper. “He was a child. A child with darkness all around him, and Mark shut him out to keep you safe. Truth be told, you were better off not being raised in that, and Joshua had to know it.”

  Tears fell onto my folded hands. “You don’t know that.”

  She traced the rim of her cup with one pale finger. “They were a frightening mess, Katy.”

  I couldn’t eat anything else.

  I left her with a hug and a promise not to stay away so long again.

  I slowed around the corner from the butterfly gardens and pulled air into too-tight lungs. I’d asked to hear about Joshua, but what I got felt like an ambush. I shook my head and moved toward home in a trance, tapping a WTF text to Dean.

  “Freaking out. Need to process.”

  His response was instant. “Where are you? I’m on my way.”

  * * * *

  We climbed the ladder to his family’s hayloft in the old barn behind Mark’s shed, and I cried. Scents of dry wood and hay tickled my nose and throat. Dean’s cologne held me together.

  Dean wrapped strong arms around my back and pulled me to him. “Hey. This will be okay.”

  “How?”

  He pressed a kiss into my hair and rested his chin on my head. “It just will.”

  I wiped snot and tears with both hands, trying to pull myself together. “’Kay. Yeah. Thank you.” I needed logical, and I didn’t have it in me at the moment. I had emotion. Lots of C-4–strength emotion.

  “Well, we have this whole loft to ourselves. Can I interest you in some snuggle up and simmer down time?”

  I pressed my nose into his warm shirt and inhaled the fresh scents of soap, earth, and cinnamon. Sitting beside him in the cavernous loft instantly became my new happy place. “Is it okay if I have ten thousand emotions raging through me and a ton of energy to burn?”

  “Absolutely. You want to go for a run?”

  “No.” I caressed his rough cheeks. “Distract me.”

  Dean pressed his palm over mine on his cheek. Strong blue eyes pierced me in place. “I don’t want to be your distraction.”

  Guilt churned through me. Real smooth, Katy. “Right. Sorry.”

  “Hey.” He lifted my chin with long, steady fingers. “Look at me.”

  I forced my attention back to those stormy blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Everything we do together comes from here.” He moved our adjoined hands over his heart. “This is real for me. I’m not pretending with you. I don’t want you to pretend with me.”

  I nodded. A tear slid over the curve of my cheek, and he caught it.

  His thumbs caressed my face on either side. “I’m falling for you, Katy. Hard and fast. I can’t imagine leaving Woodsfield without you, and that day’s coming too soon.”

  I kissed his mouth, interrupting his words. I was falling for him, too, and I was suddenly hungry for something I couldn’t name. My hands slid over the back of his head and begged him closer. “Thank you for rescuing me today.” I kissed his jaw slowly, moving toward his tan earlobe. “Thank you for making me laugh and feel safe and for being with me for all these firsts.” The final word was a puff of hot breath on his ear.

  He released a soft moan that sent off wildfires in my veins. He wrapped me protectively in his arms and leaned me back onto tufts of loose hay. “You’re very polite. I think that’s one more reason I like you.” He pressed the length of his long body into me, aligning us in all the right places. The move felt everything except polite.

  Excruciating pleasure raked through me. I melded my mouth to his.

  He slid a hand beneath my shirt and traced the curve of my side to the bump of each rib. When he reached the underwire of my bra, a ripple of excitement arched my back and pressed me tighter against him. The rough pad of his thumb scraped across the peak of
my breast, and I shuddered in pleasure.

  So many years I’d dreamed of knowing him, laughing at inside jokes and kissing him in the moonlight. As the fantasies plowed through my mind, reality did one better.

  I worked his shirt over his head and privately explored the body I’d long admired.

  He returned the favor.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His husky voice heated the bare skin below my collarbone.

  I squirmed and throbbed in anticipation of what would come next.

  I wasn’t disappointed.

  Chapter 21

  Heidi emptied a can of aerosol hair spray around my head. I gagged on the fumes as she twisted and pinned every strand of my hair into vintage perfection. Silver hairpins topped with small pearls lined the fancy updo that accentuated my ostrich-esque neck. With her magical touches, I looked almost elegant. She’d fastened pearl drop earrings to my lobes and insisted I trade my simple black sheath dress for the one her mom sent over.

  She stepped back to admire her work. “You look like Audrey Hepburn.”

  “Very doubtful.” I approached the mirror I’d attached to my door last summer. “Oh.” The wispy champagne gown had hung shapeless and bland on the hanger but looked strangely perfect on me. I turned left and right, enjoying the tickle of material against my legs. The simple cut gave my narrow waist a feminine shape. Lace edging along the bust hinted at cleavage that didn’t exist. “I’m one big hat and two satin gloves away from a black and white movie poster.”

  “Let me finish.” She squeezed between the mirror and me, lifting a liquid eyeliner pen to my face.

  “Do not poke my eye out.”

  “Shut up and close ’em.”

  Her simple coconut body spray reminded me of our countless trips to the lake for sun worship. She always chose one hundred ’block to ward off extra freckles. I just wanted to soak in as many rays as possible before the town was steeped in snow.

  “Hold still.” She worked the pen quickly across each lid and against the outside corners. “Okay, now gloss.”

  I went to my vanity in search of lip gloss, and Heidi followed. “That’s my face?” The reflection close-up was stunning. “You really are an artist.” I touched a hand to one cheek to confirm it actually was my face.

  Heidi aligned her shoulder with mine, sifting through the clutter of makeup she’d used to change my appearance from farm girl to vintage beauty. “I can only accept half the credit. Your face is the perfect canvas, and those legs belong on a runway.”

  “Katy,” Mark bellowed up the steps. “The Boy’s here!”

  I rolled my dramatically lined eyes. “He calls him The Boy. Dean’s been here nearly every day this summer, lived beside us for nineteen years, and his mother feeds us more often than we feed ourselves.”

  Heidi ambushed me with an enormous makeup brush, adding shimmer powder to my collarbone. “If you told him what Dean did to you in the barn, he’d start calling him The Man.”

  I didn’t bother hiding the blush or laugh that followed. Dean was most certainly The Man. I had a hot flash on memory alone.

  Heidi packed her makeup into a big pink tackle box. “Have you talked to Mark about Joshua again?”

  “No. Not since you were here to see him freak out.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “I don’t know. I wanted his blessing, but I don’t think that’s a possibility. I’m just getting through this and plotting my moves. I’ve completed some online applications for community college and researched the online options at bigger universities. If I start somewhere for fall semester, it will be easier to transfer for the next session. I just need his signature for the financial aid applications. I think I can get him to do that for me now.”

  “Don’t give up on photography school yet.”

  I shook my head, unable to explain to her big doe-eyes how ridiculous it was to hold onto a dream like that.

  “Katy!”

  “Coming!” I grabbed my clutch and opened the bedroom door.

  Heidi slipped her silver stilettos on and flitted down the steps ahead of me. Generous amounts of petal pink material bounced around her calves.

  Mark’s eyes stretched wide when I landed on the living room floor beside him and Dean. He frowned.

  Dean kissed my cheek. “You look amazing.” His black dress slacks and jacket begged to be removed.

  I flipped the end of his tie. “Thank you. You look quite handsome.”

  I gave Mark a polite smile. “We’ll be back late. I want to stay and help Sylvia clean up then take my time getting home.” I stopped before my “call my cell if you need me” portion of the good-bye. “What?”

  His expression defied explanation. Was he ill?

  “You look like your grandmother.” He seemed to force the stubborn words from his tongue. “She had a dress like that once, and she looked just as beautiful.”

  He thinks I am beautiful? “Thank you.”

  “Bernadette called several times today.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “She was checking on you.”

  I hugged Mark. “I’ll give her a call tomorrow.”

  “Katy?” Mark’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

  Dean squeezed my hand and walked outside with Heidi.

  A stupid part of my broken heart hoped he meant it. “For what?”

  He ground his teeth and looked at the photo of Mom on the mantel. “Sending Joshua away when you were a baby might not have been the right thing to do.”

  My heart swelled. “Yeah?”

  “You can’t imagine what that was like for her mother and me. Then, all these years, he’s proved me right.”

  My stomach dropped in that weird end-of-an-elevator-ride way. Mark wasn’t apologizing. He was trying to make himself feel better by supporting his decision to separate me from my father. “Right. Well, if you need anything, call my cell.” I concentrated on my friends waiting on the porch. Whatever ugly things had happened in the past, I was feeling better and better about my future.

  * * * *

  Twinkle lights lined the wall of windows at Essence. A collage of fancy cars and muddy trucks filled the lot and lined the street. I snapped my clutch open to check the time on my phone. Seven thirty. Panic buzzed in my veins. “My invitation said eight. Why are so many people here already? I have to meet with the servers and violinist before we open.”

  Dean slid his hand over mine on my thigh. “Babe. My invitation said seven.”

  “No. That’s impossible. I planned this. It starts at eight. I drafted the invitations.”

  Heidi handed me a silver envelope. “Read it.”

  I slid her invitation out and blinked stinging eyes.

  You are cordially invited to Sylvia Reynold’s premiere

  Home Town Heroes Gala

  In recognition of local rising talent

  Katherine Reese

  Saturday July 12th, 7:00 until 10:00pm

  Essence Gallery

  The RSVP number was Sylvia’s private cell.

  “This isn’t the invitation I wrote.”

  The light popped on as Heidi ejected from the truck. “Duh. Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”

  I swatted tears off my perfectly powdered cheeks. “You knew.”

  She closed the door on me and smiled through the window.

  I turned to Dean.

  “Don’t be mad.”

  “You knew, too?”

  He gave me the goofy face I loved. “Everyone in town got that invitation. Everyone knew. Sylvia called personally to threaten me if I told. She also promised this wasn’t the sort of thing you’d hate me for hiding from you. Are you okay?” He hovered his hands near the steering wheel. “We can leave. You don’t have to go inside. I can say it was my fault we had to leave.”

  “Hey!” Heidi’s muffled voice eked through Dean’s window. She knocked on the glass. “You’re going in and you’re accepting
this attention. Now, get out.”

  Dean tented his brows. “She’s bossy.”

  “Damn skippy!” she barked.

  I nodded crazily. “Okay.” Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. “I’m ready.” I can do this. I’m making changes. I’m chasing dreams. Living my life. I climbed down from the truck and Heidi hurried to meet me.

  She linked her arm with mine. “Breathe, or you’ll pass out.”

  I exhaled a deep breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  Dean led us through the crowded lot and opened the large glass door to Essence.

  A sea of faces turned our way and smiled.

  I stalled, midstep. “There have to be a hundred people.”

  Heidi made a little noise. “Mom says closer to three.”

  “Hundred?” I screeched.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “That’s why you went nuts on the makeup. She delivered this dress.” Obvious details clicked into place. “Did Mark know?”

  She nodded and passed me off to Dean. “I’ll get you a glass of champagne.”

  I lifted two fingers.

  Heidi smiled. “On it like a bonnet.”

  The sea of people parted as we moved through the gallery, exploring dozens of photos I’d taken over the years. Small smiles graced the mouths of my neighbors and friends. Strangers nodded as I passed. At the large rear wall, a life-sized image of me with my camera anchored a scattering of my shots in various sizes, frames, and filters.

  “I took that one.” Sylvia’s voice startled me. She sashayed to our side and air-kissed Dean’s cheeks. “Your girlfriend’s very talented.”

  He tugged my hand, a look of pride on his face. “I know.”

  She motioned to the six-foot photo of me at the lake. “You were so engrossed in the shot, you didn’t notice me taking ten for myself. This was the best. That look on your face is pure joy.”

  Sylvia Reynolds photographed me. “I love the lake.”

  “You love this town,” she countered. “And they love you.”

  I followed her gaze to the masses gathering behind us.