Crain's Landing (28 page)

Her words barely had time to reach my ear before Peyton began trying to open the door again. The smell of hand sanitizer came rushing out through the slit in the door as she tried her best to open it. “Mommy!” Peyton shouted.

“Sorry,” I responded as I opened the door and took a step back. She was getting to be so damned independent.

Peyton jumped over the lip of the stall and began to twirl around, dancing for all who would watch. “Mommy, let’s go.” Janice and I both laughed at her excitement and I waved a goodbye to Janice.

“Hey, Natalie!” Janice shouted, causing me to turn around. “Thanks for helping out my niece. You saved her from a life of heartache. My sister never learned from our mother’s mistakes. So...thank you.”

I smiled and nodded; a little dumbstruck by Janice’s words of advice and gratitude.

Peyton took Grant by the hand and never let go as we continued with our day. She dragged him to each and every game and ride she could find. By the time the bands were warming up, she was curled up in his arms fast asleep. “Grant, I really should get her home and into her...”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence, as Carolyn walked up from behind me and came around, quietly taking Peyton from Grant’s arms. “Let me take my grandbaby. You kids go watch the bands.” I wanted to argue, remind her that Peyton was my responsibility, but Janice’s words came to mind.

You’ve never seen Carolyn get worked up, trust me, you don’t want to…

I chose to smile and thank her instead. Grant took my hand and I promised Carolyn I would be by her house the second the fair was over. “No, you won’t. You’ll enjoy yourselves tonight and let me have a sleepover with my grandbabies.”

I kissed both Carolyn’s and Peyton’s cheeks, watching with a heavy heart as Carolyn and Martin walked away, my little miracle asleep in her arms.

“She’ll be fine. She raised me after all.”

I looked at Grant and let my eyes go wide as I pretended to run after Carolyn. “I have to get her then. I know for certain she let you chew on lead paint chips.”

Grant was quick to grab me around the waist and place his mouth to my ear. “I’ll show you just how well I can chew.”

His words and the feel of his lips ignited a fire in me that I had never felt. His fingers found mine as he led me toward the stage, his devilish smile holding a promise I wanted him to keep.

The first band we listened to was composed of several members of the town. I recognized Drew’s dad, as the drummer, and my postman was on keyboard. I didn’t recognize the lead singer, but I heard from the people around me that he owned the local bar, thus the reason I had never met him.

They played several songs I knew my father had played when I was younger. Listening to them brought back memories of when I was a little girl and my dad would dance with me in our living room. I tried not to think of the reality that Peyton wouldn’t have a daddy to let her stand on his feet and dance and giggle.

“What has you so far away, beautiful?”

I turned to find his face close to mine. “Just remembering the last time I heard this song.”

His lips gently touched my forehead. “I take it that was a good memory?”

I smiled and nodded my head. “It was a great memory, actually.”

We continued to listen to the band, wrapped in each other’s arms. During the last song they played, the lead singer announced that his daughter would be singing. A young and healthy looking girl made her way to the stage. The guy behind us made a rude comment about how big her behind was, but the couple to his left told him where to shove his comment.

The keyboard player began playing the opening notes to a song currently being played on the radio. I closed my eyes and smiled; the young girl sounded similar to the actual singer. She had barely sung the second verse when Grant grabbed my hand and pulled me up with him. He never once asked me to dance; he simply took my hand in his and began to sway with me. As cliché as it sounded, the moment I looked into his eyes, the crowd faded away. I sensed nothing except for his gentle breath across my cheek. The only thing I could hear was the sound of him humming the song. As foreign and new as this feeling was, I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to stand here until my legs gave out, wrapped in his arms and secured by the smell of his amazing scent. Grant had other ideas, though, as he tilted my head back and kissed me.

This was the moment, the one I read and dreamed about, but never dared to imagine would happen to me. I was ready, to give him my heart, open myself to the relationship I had avoided for months. Feeling myself fill with absolute joy as I took in the breath I needed to confess to him my true feelings, toss away any ambitions I had at fighting a battle I had no desire to win.

“Grant?” A voice I had never heard called from behind me, pulling both our attention from the dream we had created under the canopy of sparkling lights. Lights that once danced in silver lines in Grant’s dark hair. His face showed signs of stubble, his blue eyes, which once shined in the bright lights of the midway, were black with desire.

All of that disappeared in the instant he looked up. His mouth popped open, as if he were seeing a ghost for the first time. His eyes closing several times, almost like he was trying to clear an invisible haze. Arms, once wrapped tightly around me, now dangled dead at his side.

“It is you. Oh, my God.” Her voice was that of a twinkling bell, angelic and pure.

However, Grant still stood motionless and speechless.

“I was hoping I would run into you, Grant.” The bell like voice began to deviate into something more sultry-sounding, like a lover’s call.

The same fate that caused me to land in this town and find this wonderful man, also allowed me to turn around, taking in the sight of a woman love songs were created for. She was much taller than me, blonde hair curled in perfect sections around her face and down her back. Eyes so blue, it would make the sky green with envy. I knew the second I saw her who she was.

Her picture from her mother's store did her no justice. Her makeup was much more natural and her clothes more suited to walking around town than addressing pageant judges. No crown adorned her head; she didn’t need one. Alone she could stop traffic, start or end a war with her smile. A smile she currently shared with the man I was about to confess my feelings for.

Grant hadn’t moved a single muscle, with the exception of his disbelieving eyes. She leaned into him, placing a pink lipsticked kiss to his cheek.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” She giggled as she spoke, something I felt was reserved for thirteen year old girls. Grant looked from me to Rebecca and back again. I could see the struggle on his face, the reason behind that struggle was a mystery to me.

“Um...” The area between his brows wrinkled in confusion, his facial features confirming his lack of brain activity. Yet even in his current state, his next sentence caused the slow destruction of my heart.

“Becca, this is...” His hand was flat across his forehead, concentration etched on his once handsome features. His eyes closed, trying desperately to remember my name. Rebecca had a body that left men speechless, including Grant. I couldn’t fault her for that, as badly as I wanted to.

In a matter of seconds, my title had changed from hunted prey to “um.” A common noun; something used in everyday speech. Essentially vital for conversations, yet gut-wrenching when used in lieu of your actual name, one he caressed as he spoke it in hushed whispers of desire. Now cluttered in confusion, as he simply couldn’t remember it.

I swallowed the hurt, so consuming. I felt it all the way to my toes, covering me in the wake up call life had set for me. I smiled and extended my hand to her, like an olive branch to an enemy, as fake as Janice’s acrylic nails.

“Oh my, you are even prettier than your picture. Here I thought you were only one of those local legends.” The bile beginning to rise from my stomach, tears would come quickly if I didn’t move this along in the right direction. “By the way these townspeople talk, you have a soul so pure the angels themselves covet you.”

Grant was still doing an excellent imitation of a mute. At this point I was certain all of his blood supply was pooling in his jeans.

I wanted to hate Rebecca, call her a dirty slut and make a huge scene here in the middle of the town square. But I couldn’t. She was his first love, maybe deep inside he still held that eternal flame for her. Who would blame him? Janice had given firm warning about Tiffany and her intentions, yet no warning had been issued by anyone of the possible return of Rebecca.

“Oh, I’m not so sure about all that.” Her dialect was more of a western flare, not a hint of her southern roots showing. How hard had she worked to rid herself of this little town? More importantly, what had brought her back? I suspected it had something to do with my visit to Sissy’s.

“I’ve heard so much about you, though.” Her eyes bright with honesty, another goddamn reason I couldn’t hate her. “People say you're breathing life back into this dying old town.” Her words were clipped with emotion, she might have left this town in her rearview mirror, but it still lived very much inside her heart, right beside Grant’s. My last thought was more than I could take.

“Ms. Rebecca, you know how these people tell tales.” My laughter disguising the pain burning through my chest. “I am only doing what the city needs.” The band began to play a new and much louder song and I knew I needed to leave, find a quiet place and fall apart.

“Please, call me Becky or Becca.” She turned to look at Grant, placing her perfectly manicured fingers on his face, not fake attachments to the shapely ends. She was just as pure as the sun she allowed to tan her skin. I had to look away, turn away from the feelings flowing from her to him.

“Yes, well...Becky, it's been a pleasure. But it's time I left you and Grant a chance to catch up.” I was already taking my back steps in preparation of the full out run I had planned. I didn’t wait for the reply that would be as genuine and sweet as the tea they sold in the booth across the street.

Grant had driven us here and I was so grateful Peyton was at the Crains’. I needed time to crawl inside myself and cry until my head hurt and my face was three times its normal size. My house was nearly seven blocks away, but I didn’t care.

At first, I walked very casually, no desire to give the locals another story to chase. As I rounded the block the diner sat on, I cut across the parking lot and began to run as fast as my feet would carry me. My lungs burned and my feet felt like I had lead shoes on, but I kept running. I needed to place as much distance as possible between myself and the reunion of the century behind me. Find a place I could go where no judgmental eyes would land on me.

Finally, I rounded my street, my porchlight guiding my way. I knew Mrs. Birdie was still at the festival because she was dancing with her husband beside us before it all went to shit. My house was quiet and dark, exactly what I needed. After I closed the big wooden door that separated me from the whispering stares I knew to be in my future, I slid down its shiny panes, until I was a heap on the wooden floor.

I refused to stop the tears as they fell or the hurt as it clawed its way out of my chest. Tomorrow, I would wake up and get back on my feet, carry on as if nothing mattered. I’d tell myself this was entirely my fault, something I created myself. I tried to push him away, to keep my heart and my mind free from the kind of pain I was feeling now. But I had failed, and now I was paying the price, at least for tonight.

I had fulfilled my end of my bargain with Martin Crain. In a few hours, when the sun rose in the sky, shining down on the beauty that was the world around us, I’d collect my own personal ray of sunshine, bring her back to our home and carry on with the reason I came here in the first place. Grant Crain might have bruised me, but he didn’t break me.

For now, in this moment in time, I was going to lay here and just...be.

WITH ALL OF THE TECHNOLOGY
we had at our disposal today, you would think they could find a way to make endless supplies of hot water. Today, more than any day, I needed the comforting feel of hot water relaxing me to my core. With my forehead against the warm tile of my shower wall, I opened my eyes to the water circling around the drain before falling into the pipes, taking with it the dirt and grime from my body. With one last tilt of my head into the now tepid water, I let my overwrought emotions and hurt feelings fall from me and join the dirt in its journey to the depths of hell; where every broken heart should go to die, leaving the owner in peace and serenity.

For the first time since leaving Grant in the park, I dared to check my phone for any messages. Sadness bit at me when my screen showed only the time and a photo of Peyton and the puppies from our trip here. I wasn’t sure if I expected something to have changed in the world around me after last night. After all, not everyone had time to stop and mourn the loss of whatever Grant and I were.

Mrs.. Birdie was wearing her large brimmed hat as she cut stems of roses to make a flower arrangement. Perhaps I should try my hand at gardening, give myself no time to consider another relationship. With my luck, however, the poor plants would wither and die, just as did my attempts at being normal. I chanced a look in the direction of Janice’s house, the door was firmly closed and absent of any car in the driveway. She must have found a young buck to hunt last night. I hoped she purchased one of those tags the paper talked about before she caught him.