Barbecue and Bad News (27 page)

“I know what you mean. I feel it too.”

“Well, I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Scott for dinner before the dance.”

Jenn helped Savannah get her groceries together, and Savannah hiked back down the block to her apartment. She was in a great mood. She had no idea what she was going to do with all this information or where it would take her, but for the first time in her life since her parents died . . . she felt like she belonged to something. And she liked it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S
he separated the groceries for tonight from what she’d gotten for the rest of her stay and put those items away in the small kitchen. She showered and changed, and just as she put her shoes on, there was a knock at her door. He was right on time, like she knew he would be.

“Coming.” She grabbed the bag of groceries and carried them with her.

When she opened the door, Scott pushed forward a small bouquet of wildflowers.

“Thank you.” She swapped him her bag for the flowers. “Let me put these in some water real quick, and then I’m ready to go.”

He stepped inside and waited.

She came back with the flowers tucked in a nubby white milk-glass vase. “Perfect. This was under the sink.” She set them on the table by the window and fluffed them so they fell into a nice rounded arrangement. “I love them.”

“I’m glad.” He swung the door open again. “Ready?”

She ducked under his arm and out the door. “Waiting on you.”

At the bottom of the stairs she waited for him to catch up and lead the way. He opened the door for her and they stepped out.

An old pickup truck was parked at the curb. The shiny chrome sparkled in the sunlight.

“I like it,” she said. “And it’s not blue.”

“Actually, it is.”

They walked to the passenger door. “Now that I’m closer I can see it. So blue it looks black, except from the right angle.”

He pulled the door open and helped her in, then set her bag on the floorboard next to her feet.

“I like it.”

He slammed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. “Glad you approve.”

“I guess it’s a good thing my car is blue or I wouldn’t fit in.”

“Well, there are a lot of shades of blue. What can I say? I know what I like.”

She looked perfectly comfortable riding shotgun in the old truck. Right now, he was liking that.

When they got to his house they both went straight to work on the dishes they’d planned to prepare.

She didn’t even ask where things were, just opened cabinets in an instinctive way to find what she needed. He loved how at home she seemed in his kitchen.

“What did you do today?” he asked.

She answered with her back to him. “This and that. Talked to Jack this morning. He might be selling the paper.”

“I wondered if that was a possibility. They’ve been at it a long time.”

“It would be a shame for it just to close down, but I think he and his sister are doing the right thing. I heard about the little girl.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. I’ve followed every lead, the few that there were.”

“That would have to be hard, to not be able to solve something like that.”

“You have no idea. But let’s change the subject. The paper would be missed around here. I really hope someone will take it over and bring it into the twenty-first century.” He wondered if she might consider taking it over at the right price.

“Maybe. It would take some work, but you never know.”

“Not so different from when I took over the sheriff’s department. Everything was still done in triplicate back then. Thought I’d never get it computerized, but things work a lot more smoothly now that it’s done.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that was a big job. I had to shop for this stuff. Errands. The day flew by.”

He went outside to put the steaks on the grill, and when he came back in, it was so natural to see her standing at the counter with a towel tossed over her shoulder.

“I’m all set. Nothing but to wait now. Can I set the table?” she asked.

“I already set the table outside. It’s cool enough under the shade of the tree, I thought it might be nice.”

“Great.”

Savannah pulled a casserole dish out of the oven and set it on top, and then slid out the muffin tray. One quick stir of a pot on the stovetop and she gave Scott a nod. “I’m ready when the steaks are.”

“Mine’s done. Yours, however, will take another five minutes.”

“Thank goodness,” she said. “You remembered.”

“Moo,” he said playfully.

“We can dish up this stuff in here and let the flies drool from the window.”

He nodded and heaped the food on his plate.

They carried the plates outside. Maggie was lying under the table. She looked ready to snag any scraps they might drop.

Savannah sat down and Maggie laid her head on Savannah’s knee. Her tail thumped until Savannah patted her head. “I never had a dog growing up, but I always wanted one.”

“I’ve always had a dog. My dad loved little dogs, though.” He checked the steaks and then took her plate. “Maggie sure has taken a liking to you.”

“Maybe one day I’ll have a good girl like you,” Savannah cooed as she stroked the dog’s head.

Scott scooted her plate in front of her and sat down next to her with his own.

“Looks good.” She slid her knife through the center.

Scott watched. Not a sign of pink. It looked perfectly cooked, if he did say so himself.

She took a bite of the steak first. “Scott. You lied.” She looked serious, then she laughed. “You aren’t just the best barbecuer in Adams Grove; you might just be the best barbecue-griller-guy in the whole nation!” She took another bite and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve eaten in some of the best steakhouses in DC, and they don’t hold a candle to this.”

“Thanks.”

They ate and shared childhood stories about being on the lake with their dads.

“You’re leaving town soon,” he said.

“Yeah. The time has flown by.”

“You gonna come back so I can take you out on the river?”

She scooted her plate to the center of the table and put her napkin on top of it. “Is it as pretty as the one in that mural at the yoga studio?”

“Savannah?”

“What? I’m just asking. It’s beautiful. Come on. You have to admit it.”

“Are you dodging my invitation to go fishing?”

“Was that an invitation?”

“Yes.”

She pressed her lips together. “Set a date.”

He glanced down at his watch. Being in the kitchen together had been easy and the time had flown by.

She glanced at hers too. “I can’t believe it’s almost time to go,” she said.

“I know. That went by quick. I guess I should’ve picked you up earlier.”

It would have had to have been last night, she thought, because being with him was so easy that even then it still wouldn’t have been enough time.

“My mom is going to flip over those little apple thingamabobs. I’m glad there are a couple left.”

“I had a feeling you’d like those. They were my daddy’s favorites. My mom’s special apple teacakes. I can make her some.”

“She’s going to want the recipe.”

“I don’t know. Family recipes are pretty special. Isn’t there a law against sharing them with outsiders?”

“Maybe you could just pretend we’re family.”

“Or maybe you could persuade me into it.”

Was she flirting with him again? Sometimes this sweet little lady turned into a sex kitten right before his eyes—except there wasn’t anything kittenish about her; she was more like a puma ready to pounce. Yeah, that more described the feeling she gave him. He knew he should be afraid of the huntress, but she was too damn captivating to run from. He raised a brow. “Sounds interesting.”

“Think about it.” She got up and cleared the rest of the dishes.

“You can leave that. I’ll get it when I get back home tonight.”

“Or we can make short work of it right now and you won’t have to worry about chores later.”

He jumped to his feet and helped her rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. He handed her the foil so she could wrap up the leftovers and put them in the fridge.

“All done.”

“See. We’re a good team,” she said.

“Ready to head over to the dance?”

“Yep. I’m eager to see what all the fuss is about your dancing.”

“People are talking?”

“Of course they are. It’s a small town. They wouldn’t have it any other way. Why do you think I haven’t been back home in years?”

“Not once?”

“Nope. If you hadn’t stopped me that day, it would have been my first visit back to Belles Corner in eight years.”

“Belles Corner. Is that where Southern belles are grown?”

“I guess,” she said in an exaggerated Southern drawl. “It’s a small town. Not so unlike this.”

“So you were just pretending to be a city girl.”

“No. I believe you jumped to that conclusion all by yourself without asking. But then I’ve lived in northern Virginia and DC ever since, so that might make me a city girl.”

“How can you stay away from home for so long?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have all night.”

She hesitated. But this thing with Scott, whatever it was, was going to be something or not. He might as well hear about her baggage. All of it. Because she couldn’t separate it from who she was. “Long story short, I was a senior in high school. I’d been drinking. I called my parents to come get me.”

“Responsible.”

She held her hand up and shook her head. “The accident that killed them happened on our way home. Another car swerved into our lane, and my dad veered to the edge of the road to give him room. Our car must have hit something because we lifted in the air and rolled into the ditch. The other car just kept on going.”

“You were in the car.”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I was too out of it to even have noticed what kind of car it was or anything. I was no help at all.”

“Did they figure out who was behind the wheel of the other car?”

“No. My dad and I were both thrown from the car. I didn’t even get a scratch. Not a one.”

“You were lucky.”

A black cloud seemed to settle in her eyes. “Everyone says that. I wasn’t lucky. I’d have given anything to be the one who died instead of my mom and dad.” Her words were steady. Flat. “They didn’t deserve that. I was the one who had done something wrong. I deserved to die that day.”

“Savannah, your mistakes as a kid . . . they shouldn’t drag you down your whole life. Your drinking did not kill your parents. You have to know that by now.”

“For a long time they didn’t even believe that my dad had swerved to avoid the other car. They even asked if I’d been driving at the time.”

“It was an accident.”

“It wasn’t a mistake. I didn’t hit a mailbox, or steal chewing gum.”

“That accident wasn’t your fault.”

“But I was the only one who survived. If I hadn’t been drinking that night, none of that would have happened. I’m the one they blame.”

“They?”

“Everyone.”

“Do they blame you . . . or is it you placing all the blame on yourself?”

“You weren’t there. You don’t know how people looked at me. The local sheriff was so determined to prove that I’d been behind the wheel of the car that night. I wasn’t. I’d called Mom and Dad just like they’d always told me to if I ever drank. I’d never done it before. If I hadn’t that night, they’d still be here. That sheriff ruined my life. Everyone in town thought I’d killed them, so I may as well have. Even my own aunt couldn’t look at me.”

She thought of the little girl crying in that mural . . . she knew what that sorrow felt like.

Savannah looked at her watch. “This is an old story, and I didn’t mean to just lay it all on you. I’m a girl with a ton of baggage; you don’t want to get involved with this. I’m a hot mess.” She tossed her hands up. “Let’s just have some fun. Let’s go to that dance. You can strut your stuff for me.”

“You might be setting yourself up for a disappointment. I’m only good on the grading curve of the men in this town. That’s not saying much.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

He helped her back into the front seat of the truck, and she scooched right into the middle next to him.

“Savannah, I know it won’t change what you’ve been through, but I want you to know that I’m sorry you went through that. I don’t know how I can ease the burden you’ve carried for so long, but I would like to try. I will if you tell me how.”

She held a hand to his cheek. “Thank you, Scott. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

He started the truck and headed back toward town. They had to pass the bank building on the way, and then just a few minutes later he pulled up in front of the Ruritan Club building. The band was playing loud enough that you could hear a pretty darn good rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama”
from the parking lot, even with the windows rolled up.

“Before we go in, can I say one more thing about Belles Corner?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

“Savannah, make your peace with what happened. That place. Those people. All of it. It’s the past, but you can’t erase it. Until you make peace with the past, you won’t be able to live your future. That town is your roots, your foundation. Those folks back there are part of your future too. Just think about it.”

How many times was she going to hear this lecture, and why was she getting it from every direction from these people she barely knew? She sat quiet for a long moment. “I’ll think about it.”

He didn’t look too hopeful.

She giggled. “I will. I’ll think about it. I promise.”

“Good. I’ll take that,” he said, but she wasn’t sure he believed her. Fair enough; she wasn’t sure she could really entertain those thoughts anyway. No matter how much, for the first time in years, she thought she wanted to.