Tempted Again (4 page)

“You’re right. If you want something done, do it yourself. Can I get you something to drink while I’m downstairs? Or to eat? I made some lemonade with real lemons, just like you used to love.”

“No, thanks.” As her mother departed, Marissa wished she could have a shot of tequila about now. The day had not gone the way she’d hoped. Crashing the Founders’ Day Parade had been bad enough, but seeing Connor again sucked.

She hadn’t noticed any sign of him during her brief visit a few weeks ago to interview at the library. And no one had mentioned that he was the town’s sheriff. Of course, no one knew about her earlier relationship with him so there was no reason they’d make any connection.

She didn’t want a connection with Connor. At this point in her life, she didn’t want a connection with any man.

And even if she had known about Connor’s presence in Hopeful, what difference would it have made? It’s not like she had any other job offers or other options.

Then there was the fact that she refused to allow Connor to rule her life. Just as she refused to allow her ex to rule her life.

She waved her finger in a circle at her slightly bedraggled reflection in her dresser mirror. “They aren’t the boss of me!”

She leaned closer. Oh God, was that a gray hair? She plucked it out and studied it. “No, not gray. Must have been the light or something. You’re okay. You’re going
to be fine. Just breathe. Don’t hyperventilate. Everything is going to be okay. Say it often enough and you’ll eventually believe it. Sooner or later. Sooner would be better,” she told herself. “So work on that.”

*  *  *

“Who was the stranger who crashed the parade?” Mayor Bedford asked Connor as they both stood around the fairground area at the end of the parade route. This was the starting point for the historic district garden tour among other festivities. Booths had been set up in aisles offering food, from funnel cakes sprinkled with powdered sugar to grilled corn on the cob. The mayor always made a point to stop at all the booths and sample the wares but he’d paused long enough from that endeavor to speak to Connor. “I was up at the front of the festivities so I didn’t actually see the vehicle myself. I just heard it was a beat-up green VW with out-of-state plates.”

“That’s right.” Connor kept an eye on the crowd. There were displays highlighting all the town’s major institutions—from the college to the hospital to the library. The chamber of commerce had the biggest display area, reminding visitors of the upcoming Rhubarb Festival in early June.

“Was the driver drunk?” the mayor asked. “Stoned? Senile?”

“None of the above. She just made a wrong turn.”

“I’ll say she did. So what did you do about it?”

“Gave her a warning and welcomed her to Hopeful,” Connor said. “She’s the new librarian in town.”

The mayor snorted in disapproval. Connor wasn’t sure if it was directed at him, the library, or the librarian.

“What’s her name?”

“Ms. Johnson. Marissa Johnson.”

Mayor Bedford’s eyes widened. “Hold on. I know her father. He’s a history professor at the college. Professor Bennett. Johnson must be her married name. I heard through the grapevine that she got divorced.” The mayor shook his head. “So Marissa Bennett is back in town. How about that?”

Shit. Now Connor knew why she’d looked like she wanted to cut his heart out. He’d known her as Rissa Bennett.
Known
her in the biblical sense of the word.

She’d been a virgin—not that she’d warned him about that. No, he’d only discovered that fact when it was too late to turn back.

There were a lot of things he’d have done differently with Rissa if he could. But he knew too damn well there were no do-overs in life.

If there were, then maybe he could have saved Hosea Williams, one of the troubled kids he’d tried to mentor back in Chicago, instead of the eleven-year-old getting killed in a drive-by shooting. Hosea’s death had spurred Connor on to do even more to save kids, some as young as seven and eight who got into trouble with gangs and drugs. Over time, he became burned out by all the failures, including his own.

The anniversary of Hosea’s death was coming up but that was no excuse to wallow.

He certainly wasn’t the only cop to be haunted by something gone deadly wrong. Back in Chicago, his own older brother Logan had been consumed by nightmares resulting from the death of his cop partner.

Cops don’t dwell. They move on. Emotions were a weakness not a strength. They prevented you from doing
your job. They’d driven Connor from the big city here to Hopeful, where he had a better chance of making a difference.

And now Rissa was back in Hopeful. She represented another black mark against his soul.

“You attended Midwest College briefly, didn’t you?” the mayor asked.

“Freshman year.”

“Did you know Professor Bennett?”

“I’d heard about him but I didn’t have any of his classes.”

Connor had had his daughter instead.

Not that he’d initially made the connection between Rissa and the history professor.

Hell, that had been ten long years ago. You’d think Rissa would have gotten over her anger by now.
Marissa
, he corrected himself. She’d gotten married. And divorced. Maybe she just hated all men at the moment.

No, she hated him.

“Good thing you didn’t give her a ticket then,” the mayor said.

“What?”

“She’s a local. Her mom is on at least three civic committees, including the Women’s Club.”

“I met her mom today. She wasn’t pleased that I’d pulled her daughter over.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t met her before.”

“I don’t have a lot of interaction with the Women’s Club. I’ve seen her around town from time to time but…Anyway, that’s not important.”

“Yes it is. Trust me, if you piss off Linda Bennett, you’re up to your armpits in alligators.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“Normally she might. But she’s not herself lately.” The mayor lowered his voice. “She’s at that age. You know.”

Connor stared at him blankly.

“You know.” The mayor ran a finger around his collar. “You’ve got a mother.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Isn’t your mother going through that?”

“Through what?”

“The change,” the mayor whispered.

Connor couldn’t believe he was actually having a discussion about menopause with the mayor. To make matters worse, he’d brought Connor’s mother into the conversation. Connor eyed the other man over the rims of his sunglasses. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’d never kid about the change. I remember when my wife was going through that.” Mayor Bedford shook his head and nervously fingered his red vest. “I wasn’t sure I’d live through it. I wasn’t sure she would, either. Nothing I said was right. Nothing I did was right. She even complained that I was breathing too loudly. Give me a break. How can you breathe too loudly?”

“Must have been rough for you,” Connor said.

“You have no idea.”

Connor preferred keeping it that way.

“And the crying. It never stopped. I take that back. Crying then yelling then crying again then yelling again. A vicious cycle.” The mayor shuddered before sighing in relief. “Thankfully she came out the other side and we both survived. We’ve been married forty years.”

“That’s quite an accomplishment.” Connor couldn’t
imagine being married at all and for sure couldn’t imagine being with the same person for forty years. He knew people did it. A few people.
Very
few.

His own parents had gotten divorced when he was a kid. His mom still harbored anger against his dad and had for nearly twenty years. He supposed the fact that Marissa was still angry with him after a mere ten years wasn’t that hard to imagine.

He shouldn’t have dumped her the way he had. He hadn’t set out to hurt her.

Now he knew why he’d been intrigued by her. Connor’s earlier feeling that life was going to get more interesting with Marissa’s arrival had been an accurate assessment. He had yet to decide if it was going to get interesting in a good or a bad way. Given their history, the odds favored bad. Only time would tell. Meanwhile, Connor had a job to do.

*  *  *

Marissa’s sister, Jess, hadn’t been in the house two minutes before she started making trouble—deliberately or not. Five years younger, she’d perfected the art of pushing her big sister’s buttons. She had their father’s coloring—light golden-brown hair and big green eyes. “I heard about your splashy arrival. Everybody’s talking about it. Did you think the parade was thrown for your homecoming or something?” Jess mocked.

“What parade?” their dad asked absently, his mind still clearly on the book on his iPad he’d just set down.

“The Founders’ Day Parade was today,” Jess replied. “For some reason your firstborn child here”—she pointed to Marissa—“decided to crash the parade.”

“I made a wrong turn, that’s all.” Marissa was beginning to think this entire moving-back-home thing had been a giant mistake. Not that she’d had many other options, as she kept reminding herself. She’d had zero other options.

“Talk about messing up a first impression.” Jess shook her head.

“First impression? This is my hometown.”

“And you haven’t been back much in ten years. Now we’re supposed to welcome you with open arms? I mean, of course
I
do because you’re my sister, but the rest of the town might think you’re a screw-up.”

“Gee thanks, Jess. Way to make me feel good,” Marissa retorted.

“You know what I mean.”

No, she didn’t. That was part of the problem with her relationship with Jess. Marissa could never be sure what her sister meant. She sensed some resentment coming from Jess, but she had no idea why her sister would resent her coming home. Was it some kind of prodigal son or in this case daughter thing?

“Hey Daddy.” Jess bent down to kiss their father’s cheek. “Whatcha grilling tonight?”

“Steaks,” he said.

Jess pouted. “You know I’m a vegetarian now.”

Their dad frowned. “I thought you gave that up?”

“No, I used to be vegan but that didn’t work for me.”

“I’m sure we’ve got some veggie kabobs,” he said.

Marissa stared at her dad and tried not to feel rejected because he had yet to really even acknowledge her presence. He’d nodded at her when he’d come onto the deck out back where they’d all gathered. But he hadn’t actually spoken to her yet.

As if reading her mind, Jess said, “So, Daddy, what do you think of Marissa moving back home?”

Jess was the only one who still called their father “Daddy,” as if to accentuate the fact that she was Daddy’s little girl. Which made Marissa what? The other daughter? The one who messed up?

“My moving in is only temporary,” Marissa quickly said.

“Hmm,” her dad said.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Marissa was rapidly reaching the end of her patience here. She glanced over at her mom and saw the expression of anger on her flushed face.

“Tell your daughter that you’re glad she’s here,” she ordered her husband.

He blinked, apparently surprised by his spouse’s irritation. “Of course I’m glad. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because she crashed the parade,” Jess suggested before laughing. “I’m just teasing. You know that, sis. Here, I’ll even share my beer with you.”

“No, thanks.”

Jess appeared hurt by her refusal. “Fine. Be that way.”

“I just don’t feel like a beer right now,” Marissa said and then wanted to kick herself for the apologetic sound of her voice. Her sister was the one who should be apologizing for being mean.

“Of course Marissa doesn’t want a beer because she’d rather have her favorite lemonade I made for her,” her mom said. “Here, have a nice big glass.”

The lemonade cooled Marissa off.

“So, Mom, have you gone to that menopause support group yet?” Jess asked.

“Connie and I are going tomorrow night.”

Connie Delgado and Marissa’s mom had been best friends since kindergarten. They’d grown up together, got married and had kids, and now shared menopause together. Marissa wondered what it must be like to have a relationship over so many years. She hadn’t kept up with any of her school friends. They’d just drifted apart after she’d left Hopeful.

As if to make up for her earlier snarky comments, Jess was on her best behavior for the rest of the evening. Marissa actually enjoyed sharing childhood memories of catching fireflies in a bottle on a warm summer evening or camping in a tent in the backyard with Jess, who had been afraid of polar bears attacking her.

By the time Jess left, Marissa shared a genuine sisterly hug with her. Their dad had yet to really become engaged in the conversation. He’d smiled during their reminisces but hadn’t really contributed much beyond an occasional “Hmm.”

Upstairs in her bedroom, Marissa sat curled up on her bed facing the window. Lightning flashed, warning of an approaching storm. She checked her BlackBerry for the latest weather update. No watches or warnings.

How prophetic was it that it was storming on her first night home? She sat there and watched it come closer, the flashes becoming zigzags across the night sky. The thunder swelled, beating down her defenses as tears slowly rolled down her face like the rain rolling down the windowpane.

Her emotions were a brittle jumble. She hugged her pillow the way she’d hugged Bosco during the tornado. The way she’d hugged her first love, Connor, the way
she’d hugged her husband. What did that say about her, that everything she’d hugged and loved was gone?

Okay, she hadn’t read any self-help divorce book that talked about comparing the men in your life to your pets, so that probably wasn’t a helpful path to traverse. And she still had her family, after all. She’d loved and hugged them and they weren’t gone. They were here.

Her strength was fragile but it would grow. She flinched as a clap of thunder rattled the windows.

There was a knock on her door. “Are you okay?” her mom asked as she entered the room.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, the tears falling easily now.

“Oh, hon.” Her mom sat beside her and moved the pillow aside so she could hug her daughter.