Out at Home (2 page)

She wandered down the hall to the bathroom to start a bath. After collecting some comfortable pajamas, she poured a glass of wine, grabbed the novel she’d been reading, and retired to the tub.

Sinking into the warm bubbles, she released a content sigh. At least the day was finally over.

Wednesday afternoon found Taylor tracing intricate paths through the heaping mound of ketchup with a soggy fry as she sat in the diner, listening vaguely to Tia's latest rant. Tia Spencer chattered incessantly about rude waitresses and how it wasn’t her fault that she detested mustard.

“Huh?” Taylor muttered.

“Taylor, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” Tia pouted.

“Yes I have,” Taylor protested. “You said that waitress was grouchy because she had to take your hamburger back because the cook put mustard on the bun. I heard you.”

“Hmph.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Tia. Would a little mustard hurt you?”

Tia smiled brightly as the wary waitress placed a fresh, mustard-free hamburger in front of her. “Thanks a bunch!” The waitress sneered as she scurried away to attend to less picky customers in a nearby booth. Taylor cracked a smile. “You’re awful.” Shrugging, Tia inspected her burger carefully for any signs of mustard. “Can’t help it.” When she finished her inspection, she happily took a huge bite out of her burger. Taylor laughed, amazed that the girl could eat so heartily and still maintain a trim figure. Tia was only an inch or two taller than Taylor with wavy blonde hair and mischievous blue eyes. She was absolutely stunning and didn’t even know it. That’s one of the reasons why Taylor adored her.

“So,” Tia mumbled between bites. “Tomorrow’s the big day, huh? Brady Nolan. Yum! He is so gorgeous.”

“Please,” Taylor snorted.

Setting the burger down on her plate, Tia's brow furrowed as she studied her friend. “You don’t think he’s hot?”

“On the outside maybe. Don’t you remember him from school?”

With a dreamy smile, Tia nodded. “Yeah. He was hunky back then, too. Most of the girls in my class were hot for him even though he was a grade behind. I never really talked to him, though.”

“He was an arrogant ass, let me tell you,” Taylor informed her with disgust. She picked up a fry and threw it back down before pushing her plate away from her. “I’m really not looking forward to this at all.”

“Taylor, I thought you’d be thrilled. Uncle Luther told me you didn’t seem as excited as he thought you’d be. Maybe Brady Nolan is arrogant and cocky, but still, this is a great opportunity for you. You’ve been waiting for a chance to get a real story for a long time.” Sighing in resignation, Taylor sat back in the booth. She gazed out the smudged windows at the traffic on the main strip. “I dated him. Did I ever tell you that?”

Tia gasped. “No! How could you keep something like that from me?”

Taylor shrugged, eyes trailing an old blue truck chugging toward the farm supply store. “I don’t know. I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Well I’d tell everyone,” Tia proclaimed as she finished off her hamburger with zest. She wiped her mouth with a napkin as she chewed. “As I recall, he went through the whole cheerleading squad my senior year - when he wasn’t dating Gretchen Smith.” Taylor wrinkled her brow. “I wasn’t there when you were, remember? I didn’t move here until a few weeks before school started my senior year.”

“Brady was already a big man on campus when he hit his sophomore year. His older brothers were athletic and nice looking also, but not nearly as much as Brady,” Tia explained. “Everyone adored him. All the girls wanted him and all the boys wanted to be like him.”

“That explains his over inflated ego,” Taylor mused. “Besides, as I recall, all of his groupies were fake.”

“Come on,” Tia jeered. “You know what it’s like in a school such as ours. Nothing but cliques.”

“Yeah and I didn’t fit into a single one of them,” Taylor remarked. “Not even when I dated Brady. They were all nice to me, but that was just because of Brady. Not a single one of them speaks to me to this day. The only friends I have in this town are you and Josh. Both of you had already graduated by the time I got to Somersvil e High.”

“Well, most of the people from high school high tail it out of here. I don’t know if any of Brady’s friends are still around. Jason is out in California, I think. A few might be in Indy.” Tia sipped her iced tea.

“I don’t really care,” Taylor said. “I have no desire to see any of them anyway.”

“So why did you and Brady break up?” Tia asked, eyes shining with curiosity.

“That’s a story for another day,” Taylor told her. She frowned as her cell phone rang. “I have to go. It’s Josh. Thanks for lunch.”

“Call me later,” Tia ordered sternly. “I’m going to need to calm you down before you meet Brady tomorrow.” Laughing, Taylor agreed.

***

“Have a nice lunch?” Josh Parker asked as Taylor breezed back into the office. He gave her a sexy smirk that crinkled his brown eyes. She ruffled his dark hair and sat at her desk.

“Peachy,” she replied. “What’s up? Lou Grant in a foul mood?”

Josh laughed at her use of their nickname for their loud, sometimes boisterous, boss. “Nah. Just thought I’d help you prepare for your big interview tomorrow. You know, help you figure out what kind of questions to ask and such.” She flashed a crooked smile. “I’d appreciate that. I need to be in total control of the conversation tomorrow.” As he got up, he nodded at an empty interview room. She grabbed a notepad and followed.

“So, Miss Lockwood, how do you want to handle this interview?” he asked as he closed the interview room door.

She sighed as he slid into the chair across from her. Josh Parker was the first friend she'd made when she'd moved to Somersvil e seven years ago. His family had lived two houses down from her family and had welcomed them to the neighborhood immediately.

Josh had graduated two years prior and attended a community college in Indianapolis, commuting back and forth instead of living in the dorms.

Tall and thin, he loved basketball, though he wasn’t very good at it.

He had dark brown hair and the sweetest brown eyes that hid behind wire framed glasses. When she'd first met him, she'd had a tiny crush on him - college boy from a nice family who treated her like he'd known her forever.

That crush had dissipated quickly as a strong friendship had taken its place. Whenever her father had slipped into his depressive hole or had drown his pain in alcohol, Taylor would wander down to Josh’s house and they’d shoot hoops in his driveway until it either grew too dark or the mosquitoes drove them inside.

He'd interned each summer for the
Somersville Times
and when Taylor had needed a job, he'd put in a good word for her with Luther.

“I don’t know, Josh. But if he mentions Prom just once, I swear I’ll punch him,” she said in a firm voice.

Chuckling, he reached for her hand across the table. “I know slugger. That’s what I’m worried about.” She slid her hand out of his and flipped open her notebook. “Well, I need to keep the conversation away from that.” She turned businesslike as she gazed at Josh's face. “Keep the questions impersonal.”

Josh sat back and rubbed his chin. “You can’t do that, Taylor. Your edge is going to be that you know him. You have to use that to your advantage.”

Her eyes grew as something sharp skewered her heart. “You know what he did. I don’t want to dig up that whole sad, sorry memory. It needs to stay dead and buried.”

“Sweetie, it’s going to be there and you know it. Even if he doesn’t want to bring it up, it’s going to be there between you two.” He eyed her carefully, watching her digest this latest bit of information.

She sat back and folded her arms across her chest, determination filling her gut. “Well, I won’t let it control me or the interview. I’m better than that.”

His eyes sparkled as an amused grin slid across his face. “That’s my girl!” He bent over the table and pushed her note pad at her. “Now come on. Let’s go over these questions and when the interview’s finished, you can come over and get smashed with me and Lacy.”

***

That evening she sat on her sofa with the remote in her hand, not really watching the game. She tucked her legs underneath her as she tried to concentrate on the player currently digging his cleats into the dirt of the batter’s box. Her eyes glazed as the memories took over her mind.

She fiddled nervously with her dress as her father greeted Brady at the door. Her dad had given her his credit card and she had shopped
alone, hoping to find something perfect.

She had chosen a white dress made of some soft, silky material she couldn’t identify; she was hardly an expert on fashion. It clung to her
tiny waist and attached behind her neck, leaving her back bare while the skirt flowed well below her knees. She loved the ‘swooshing’ sound it
made as it wrapped around her legs when she walked.

Her father surprised her when he handed her a beautiful knit shawl to cover her shoulders. He grinned sheepishly as he told her it had
belonged to her mother and he wanted her to wear it that night to keep the February chill away.

Brady kept his arrogance in check when meeting her father and brother, but she could see the cockiness in his eyes as they swept over her
body. He presented her with a beautiful white rose wrist corsage which he slipped on confidently and escorted her out the door to his waiting car.

The dance itself was nothing short of spectacular. The smelly gym had been transformed into a winter wonderland, complete with sparkling
snowflakes dangling from the ceiling and fluffy, cotton snow banks dotting the hardwood floor.

White and gold lights twinkled overhead like stars in a cloudless sky. The ambiance enchanted and delighted her so much that she
clutched Brady’s arm tightly as she oohed and aahed over each detail.

Brady smiled gently at her and patted her hand, though she wasn’t sure if it was in amusement or not. When he led her to his group of
friends, she stiffened momentarily until they smiled and invited her to sit down.

She was surprised to see Amanda Allen hanging off of Jason Smith’s arm. Jason was Brady’s best friend and another of Somersville High’s
most beautiful people. Amanda, though nice enough, was sort of plain and not the type Jason usually dated. Jason was comparable to a god
with his blond good looks and sexy blue eyes.

Brady’s group treated her friendly enough, even though she sensed it was more for Brady’s sake than anything else. The conversation
mostly centered around themselves, although they did throw in the occasional insulting remark about a person or a couple who was unfortunate
enough not to be one of them. Taylor constantly bit back her retorts, not wanting to upset Brady, but it was difficult.

Realizing what it was costing her to keep her mouth shut, he rescued her by whisking her off to the dance floor. He kept her close to his body
when they danced, whispering how beautiful she looked in her ear. Her whole spine tingled at the heat of his breath on her skin and thrills as
she’d never known shot through her stomach.

And when he drove her home that night, he held her hand as he walked her to the door. Under the soft light on her front porch, in the biting
cold air of that February evening, she received her first kiss. It wasn’t very long or very passionate, but it was sweet and full of promise. When he
broke it, he cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over her face, and wished her a good night.

When she went inside the house, she was surprised to find her father dozing in his beat up leather recliner, minus the usual empty glass of
scotch. She woke him and he fixed them both a cup of hot chocolate which they enjoyed at the kitchen table as she told him of her amazing
evening at her first formal dance.

Once they finished their hot chocolate, he kissed her on the cheek, told her she looked beautiful, and sent her off to bed. She floated up the
stairs and drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face thinking maybe things would really, finally be okay once again.

She blinked rapidly, suddenly aware of the tears wetting her cheeks. Brushing them away in irritation, she turned off the television, tossing the remote to the coffee table. She wasn’t going to let Brady Nolan reduce her to a quivering, emotional wreck again.

***

Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, her brows drew together as she frowned. She wanted to look professional and aloof, but not too much; he’d see right through that.

She had tossed and turned all night wondering what to wear, how to do her hair, how to greet him. Finally, she'd rolled out of bed and showered until the water turned cold.

After foraging in her closet, she settled on pale blue cropped pants and a crisp, white blouse with a pair of strappy sandals. Casual, she smirked. Let him think that she hadn't made much of an effort.

She braided her long, chestnut hair and applied a touch of makeup to her hazel eyes. Perfume was a definite no. She didn’t want him to think she was trying to lure him back.

She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder, grabbed her cell phone and keys, and headed out of the door.

As she urged her car through the early morning Indianapolis traffic, headed toward Racers Stadium, she ran different scenarios over in her mind. She tried to imagine a more mature Brady - one who would be contrite and apologetic about the past. Unfortunately, a more realistic picture of him would knock that one out of her head - one of him as egotistical as ever and flaunting their past in her face. Sighing, she rubbed her temple before pinching the bridge of her nose.

A fine tremble quivered throughout her body as a sign directing traffic to the stadium appeared. She took the exit and slowly made her way through the vast, empty parking lot. Time seemed to speed up as she begged it to slow down. But no matter what, she knew she’d have to do this -

face him once more. Putting it off would only mean dragging out the agony.

She pulled as close to the doors as possible and parked. As she grabbed her messenger bag, double checking to make sure she had ample notepads and pencils, not to mention her recorder, she gathered her courage. She flung her braid over her shoulder and lifted her chin. Exiting her car, she strolled with fake confidence to the glass doors of the administrative area like she’d been instructed.