Pulling Home (30 page)

Oh, Grant. If you only knew the truth.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I consider you a friend.”

His smile covered her. “Many great loves begin as friendships.”

Not among siblings. And not when one of the parties is in love with someone else.

“I’m sorry Grant, it’s not going to happen.”

The smile faltered. “You know, my sister’s been saying some bizarre things these past few days.”

“I really don’t think you should be listening to Leslie right now.”

“You’re right. Absolutely. I’m sure there’s no truth to them, but humor a

wounded guy’s ego, okay?”

Please don’t ask about Jack.
“Sure.”

“Thank you. She says Jack’s got a thing for you. I can see how that would

happen, believe me, but she says that you and he,” he paused and searched her face.

“Please, Audra, just tell me it isn’t true.”

She could lie or she could tell the truth. Either way, Grant would be hurt. “I’m not going to answer that. Whether or not Jack is or isn’t in the picture, has nothing to do with us.”

“Ah.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to answer. You

already did.” His eyes lost some of their blueness as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Be happy,” he murmured. “I’ll miss you.”

***

head. “It’s from Betty Crocker!”

“Praise be!” Joyce exclaimed.

Marion paused in the middle of her knitting. “With your grandmother as your

teacher, you’ve got a good shot.”

“Dear me, open it child!” Alice wiped her hands on her apron and gripped her

granddaughter’s shoulders.

Good fortune flourished in the Wheyton household lately. Joe quit smoking,

(well, mostly quit), Kara played every afternoon with the new friends who would attend Holly Springs Elementary School with her, and Jack spent nights reviewing plans for the house he planned to build. He smiled an awful lot these days and Alice knew the reason behind their good fortune. It even had a name. Audra Valentine Wheyton.

Alice had spent too many years blaming Audra for Christian’s absence. No more.

Audra had gifted the Wheyton family with a second chance and Alice would not forget it.

“Grandma, it says, ‘Congratulations on winning third place in the Betty Crocker

Best Bread Contest with your Razzle Dazzle Apple bread.’” The child pulled her lower lip through her teeth and said, “It’s not first. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, dear,” Alice said, pulling Kara into her arms. “There were eight hundred applicants which means you beat out seven hundred ninety seven of them.”

“And I’ll bet they were older,” Joyce said. “Isn’t the age limit ten?”

“Congratulations, Kara.” Marion click-clacked her knitting needles over a royal

blue scarf.

Tilly was last to comment. Alice braced herself for one of her friend’s doomsayer phrases. Even if Tilly didn’t believe in sugar coating, she didn’t have to drop a salt tablet in the news. “You can’t win all the time, Kara. Your grandmother knows that.”

Typical. Just once, couldn’t the woman try to say something nice? The child was

only eight years old for Heaven’s sake and had just undergone brain surgery. Why you would think—

“But don’t worry,” Tilly went on, which shocked Alice and froze her brain mid

thought. “You’re a great baker, and one day, I reckon you’ll be as great as your grandmother.” Then the woman did something she’d never done in the umpteen years Alice had known her. She winked.

Kara beamed and hugged Alice. “I gotta go tell Grandpa and then I’m going to

call Mom and Uncle Jack.”

“Yes, you do that,” Alice said, smoothing a few errant curls from Kara’s

forehead. “You go tell them all.”

“I think
The Sentinel
would like to know,” Joyce offered.

“Absolutely,” Tilly seconded.

“All’s I know is I’d like to taste some of that Razzle Dazzle Apple bread,” Marion said.

“Can I make some today, Grandma?”

“After dinner. Now go tell Grandpa. You know how funny he is when you forget

to tell him something.”

“Okay.” She smiled at the coffee klatch and announced, “Tomorrow morning you

can have Razzle Dazzle Apple bread with your coffee!” Then she clutched the letter to her chest and flung open the back door, hollering for her grandfather.

“Who would have thought things would turn out like this?” Joyce said, swiping at her cheeks. “You’re going to see your granddaughter off to her first day of school in two days.”

“And she can help bake the Thanksgiving pies,” Tilly added.

Marion picked up her knitting and let out a long sigh. “Maybe Joe will finally

agree to put up a real Christmas tree.”

Alice laughed. “He’s already designing Santa and his reindeer for outside. He and Kara picked up the wood yesterday and she’s picking out the colors and the lights.”

“It does a body good to see such love,” Joyce said. “There’s hope my Walter

might find love again.”

Tilly snorted. “If he dumps the idea of patching things up with that philandering wife of his.”

“Some things just aren’t meant to be,” Marion said in what almost sounded like a gentle voice.

“I know.” Joyce sipped her coffee and closed her eyes. “But it doesn’t make the

wanting go away.”

“Maybe you’re not wanting the right thing,” Tilly said. “Maybe you should stop

pushing so hard and let the right thing find you. Like Alice did. Who would have thought in ten million years that we’d be happy Audra Valentine was here?”

“Tilly.” Alice was not about to listen to anyone malign Audra.

Tilly held up a bony hand. “I mean that in a good way. Six months ago we

wouldn’t have used her name for toilet paper and now, she’s the reason Joe hasn’t complained of his knees in two weeks and you haven’t visited Rachel’s room in six days.” She winked again, the second time in her whole life, if Alice were a betting woman. “Joe told us while you were in the basement switching out laundry. We’re happy for you, Alice. Audra Valentine’s to thank for that.”

“Audra Valentine Wheyton,” Joyce corrected. “Soon to be married to the elder

Wheyton. Just like on
Lifetime
.”

“Practical too,” Marion commented, not looking up from her knitting. “No need

to change out monograms or driver’s license.”

“I’m sure that was her plan,” Alice said in a wry voice.

“Jack and Audra deserve to be happy,” Joyce said. “All these years we blamed

that poor girl for dragging Christian cross country and here she was only doing what her husband wanted.”

“If it hadn’t come out of Alice’s mouth, I never would have believed it,” Tilly

said, shaking her head. “But any woman who carries that cross in silence, loses her husband, almost loses her child,
and
puts up with a town of naysayers like us, deserves my respect.”

“You’ve got me there,” Marion said.

“Ladies.” Alice lifted her coffee cup, eager to dwell on a happier thought. “Let’s toast my daughter-in-law, Audra Valentine Wheyton. For her courage, her forgiveness, and her willingness to let us be her family.”

The other women raised their mugs. “Here, here. And may she and Jack live long,

prosperous lives and produce many grandchildren!”

They all laughed. “Amen.”

“And good riddance to Mr. Big Shot Producer,” Tilly clinked her mug with

Alice’s.

“Hello NBC miniseries,” Alice said. NBC had contacted Audra last week and

offered a head writer’s role for an eight episode miniseries involving drama, deceit, death, and of course, dalliances.

Alice refilled their mugs, already thinking about the full dinner table she’d have tonight and the pork tenderloin marinating in the fridge. There would be many such dinners and God willing, more plates at the table in years to come.
Thank you, God
, Alice’s heart swelled with gratitude.
Thank you for the gift of Audra Valentine. Amen.

“Tell me the truth, is it too much?”

Audra’s husband of four hours fingered the opening of her lacey white gown and

frowned. “Actually, I think it is.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have listened to the coffee klatch crew. I look like a Barbie, don’t I?” She groaned. “I should have worn the linen suit I picked out.”

“God no.” Jack made a face. “No wife of mine is showing up at our wedding like

she’s going to a business meeting. I like this dress.” He traced the tiny pearls rimming the neckline. “There’s just too much of it.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he put a finger to her lips. “Too much as in I’d rather see skin. Golden, soft as satin. And cleavage. Lots of cleavage.”

Audra shook her head and swatted his hand from its dangerously close proximity

to her breast. “You can see all the skin you want. Tonight. When your parents and the whole town aren’t watching us.”

He laughed, something he’d been doing a lot of these past nine months, and said,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

She kissed his neck and whispered, “I can’t wait.”

Jack slung an arm around her and pulled her closer. They sat on a park bench at

the perimeter of the festivities. There were several such benches, all decorated with white satin bows and offering a respite from the crowds and the commotion. Rows of tables and chairs scattered Holly Springs Memorial Park, which was the only location large enough to entertain the number of guests invited to Jack and Audra’s wedding reception—the entire community of Holly Springs. There were white tents set up with all manner of festival food—sausage subs, barbecue, fried chicken, cotton candy.

“I think I’d like a funnel cake.”

Jack clinked his glass with hers. “A perfect paring with champagne. Would you

like me to get one?”

Audra snuggled closer. “Not yet. I don’t want you to move right now. Can you

believe all these people came to celebrate with us?”

“Of course.”

“Grandma Lenore would be very pleased.”

“Hmmm. Christian too.”

She hesitated, then said, “And my mother.”

He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Especially your mother.”

The town had accepted Audra. The Valentine name had gained respect. A year

ago, she’d never thought it possible, but then, a year ago, she’d never believed she’d be marrying Jack.

“I’m surprised Kara hasn’t searched us out.”

“She’s assistant to Peter and his magic tricks,” Jack said. “She’s not going to give up that gig, even for her mother.”

“Good point.” Thoughts of Kara brought back last year’s surgery and the

uncertainty surrounding the weeks following it. “She’s really doing well, isn’t she?”

“She is. I couldn’t ask for a better outcome.” He cleared his throat and added,

“Speaking of outcomes, Peter’s actually a decent guy, once you get past the looks.”

She smiled up at him. “I’m glad you think so. Maybe we could ask him to be a

godfather.”

Jack flew off the bench and zeroed in on her stomach. “What are you talking

about? Are you…do you mean…? Are you
pregnant
?”

Audra stood and threw her arms around his neck. “No, silly. Not yet, but at the

rate we’re going, it won’t take long.”

His eyes narrowed to a suspicious glint. “Is that why my mother is suddenly hellbent on redecorating my old room?”

“She did mention something about a nursery but your father’s in on it, too, and

they want to redo your sister’s room for Kara.”

“And Christian’s?”

She shrugged. “Another nursery?”

He shook his head and muttered, “Pretty soon they’ll want to buy a bigger house

for all the grandchildren they plan on us having.”

Audra threw him a sideways glance and decided she might as well tell him the

rest. “Kara wants a dog, too.”

Jack groaned. “What did I get myself into?” He must have seen the hurt look on

her face because his expression softened and he pulled her close. “We can have ten kids and five dogs if you want. Or five kids and ten dogs.” His voice spilled over her with promise and longing, “As long as I’m with you.”

She kissed him on the mouth and whispered, “I love you.”

His expression grew fierce and he tightened his hold on her. “It’s always been

you, Audra. There’s never been anyone else in my heart but you.”

Joe Wheyton took that very moment to blast them apart with his megaphone.

“Let’s congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Jack Wheyton! May they have a long life filled with love, happiness,” he paused and his voice ratcheted ten decibels, “and babies!”

The town whooped and hollered. Jack swept Audra off her feet and twirled her

around seconds before he stole her breath with a mind-blowing kiss that promised a mind-blowing wedding night.

The resident of Holly Springs roared their approval.

The End

About the Author

Mary Campisi should have known she’d become a writer when at age thirteen she

began changing the ending to all the books she read. It took several years and a number of jobs, including registered nurse, receptionist in a swanky hair salon, accounts payable clerk, and practice manager in an OB/GYN office, for her to rediscover writing. Enter a mouse-less computer, a floppy disk, and a dream large enough to fill a zip drive. The rest of the story lives on in every book she writes.

When she’s not working on her craft or following the lives of five young adult

children, Mary’s digging in the dirt with her flowers and herbs, cooking, reading, walking her rescue lab mix, Cooper, or on the perfect day, riding off into the sunset with her very own ‘hero’ husband on his Electra Glide Classic aka Harley.

Mary has published with Kensington, Carina Press, The Wild Rose Press, and

Jocelyn Hollow Romance.

Discover other titles by Mary Campisi at Samshwords.com:

Not Your Everyday Housewife