Tess in Boots (15 page)

Pathetic. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic!

I stumbled through the darkness to the bathroom sink and flipped on the light, splashing cool water on my face as if I could somehow wash off the memory.

Nope. Still there.

“I have to erase it.” As soon as I said the words out loud, I felt a surge of relief. I could erase it! I knew Logan’s voicemail password. It was the same pin number he used for everything. His birthday, backward.

I squinted at the alarm clock to make out the time. A little after four. He wouldn’t be up for at least another hour. I could call his number, access the voicemail admin, and delete the message. It would be like it never existed. Simple. Easy. Painless.

It was wrong, I knew, to break into his voicemail. Even if it was only to erase my own message. And yet, the feeling of desperation was so strong, I knew the choice was made. Of course I would do it. I couldn’t see any other option.

I dialed Logan's number, and this time I hit the pound key when I heard his greeting. I was prompted to enter his pass code. It was too easy. In one try, I was in.

“You have two new messages,” said an automated voice.

Oh, great. There was another message besides mine. I would have to delete that one, too, or else he would know someone had already listened to it.

“First message,” said the voice, “Thursday, eleven fifty-nine p.m.”

“
Logan, it's me.” My stomach dropped. It was a woman. “You know I love you, but I hate sneaking around like this. I don't think I can do it anymore. You need to talk to Tess. Or I'm done.” There was a long pause, and I heard her sigh. “Call me back.”

The message ended, and with a shaking finger I pressed the number two to delete it. I pressed it again as soon as I heard the sound of my own blubbering voice on the next message. I couldn't bear to listen to the whole thing.

After the messages were deleted, I sat down on the edge of the bed in shocked silence. Wow. I guess I wasn’t the only one who needed to end things, was I?

I believed Annie when she told me about what she saw, but a small part of me hoped
there’d been a misunderstanding. That maybe he was out with a cousin or something. This didn’t seem like a misunderstanding at all.

How long had this been going on? Was he planning on telling me about her on our last date? Was that why he acted so strange
ly that night?

It sure explained why I hadn't heard from him. He was probably thrilled to have me out of his hair for a few days. But what was up with
the text he sent me?
I love you. Take all the time you need.
What was his plan? To keep me on the line in case he decided to end it with this other girl?

He was a jerk. It wasn’t even worth my time to give him another thought. And besides, I was over him. I was falling for someone else.

Then why does it hurt so much?

Because, I realized, before I thought Logan was a jerk, I thought he was the one. And even though I met someone new and exciting, that didn’t erase all of my history with Logan. He was familiar. I
’d always pictured a future with him. A beautiful, happy future. My perfect life. There was a time when I could describe in vivid detail what that perfect life looked like. But now it seemed unrecognizable, like a hazy dream that had been forgotten.

It was time to start over; time to make a fresh start from scratch.

I thought about the last thing Jim Pierce said to me on the day I left Stevenson.

Go be Tess.

Go be Tess. Maybe it was time for me to figure out exactly what that meant.
 

CHAPTER 15

The metallic snipping sound
of the scissors made me shiver.

“
You okay, hun?”

I smiled.
“I'm fine. I got a little chill is all.”

“
I bet you did, sugar. You're gonna feel about ten degrees cooler. And ten pounds lighter, too.”

It was such a tired cliché, breaking up with your boyfriend and chopping off all your hair. But still, it felt like an important rite of passage. Logan always begged me not to change my hair. For seven years, I kept the same long, straight style, with a slight trim here and there for maintenance.

But with no Logan in the picture to convince me otherwise, I ventured into town early, before my lunch meeting with Viv, in search of a place to get my hair cut. When I sat down in her chair, the hairdresser commented on how my hair was long enough to donate.

“
That's perfect,” I said.

“
You want to donate it?”

I nodded.
“Yes. Very much.”

“
Well, all right, then.”

She gathered my hair into a ponytail and chopped it off at the base. I felt a little surge of panic at first, seeing most of my hair fall to the ground. But I was able to relax as she went to work snipping away, shaping my dark hair so it fell right above my shoulders.

When she was finished, she grabbed a nearby hair dryer and used it to create a soft, tousled effect. Then she examined me, walking around in a circle and stopping every once in a while to tug on the ends of my hair until she was sure it was right.

“
There.” She spun my chair around toward the mirror, and I gasped.

It was a change. A very drastic change.

And I
loved
it.

“
What do you think?” she asked.

I put a hand up to touch my hair.
“It's… it’s amazing. Thank you so much.”

She set her lips into a satisfied smile. I paid her and walked out of the salon, heading toward the diner, which was right down the street. She was right. I
did
feel lighter.

Logan might not even recognize me strolling down the sidewalk with my boots and short hair. The thought crossed my mind and with it came a feeling of overwhelming satisfaction.

I checked the time—still a few minutes before lunch with Viv. There was a tiny white church right across the street from the diner, and I needed to find someone to conduct the wedding ceremony. I hadn’t given much thought to it yet, but maybe this would be a good place to start.

I crossed the street and opened the unlocked door of the church to let myself inside.
I tried to remember the last time I’d been inside a church. I used to go all the time, but somewhere along the line things changed. Logan wasn’t into it, and as he pointed out, we only had so much time together on the weekends before the Monday rush settled in. We usually spent Sundays boating or catching a matinee. Then we’d head to a coffee shop in the late afternoon and work side-by-side for a few hours. He called it
getting a jumpstart on the week,
and he claimed it would make a huge difference in my career. He was right. Of course, it didn’t matter in the end.

“Hi.”

I jumped at the sound of a voice echoing off the church walls. The voice belonged to a middle-aged lady with a sweet smile. She poked her head through the doorway of a nearby office and asked, “Can I help you?”I took a step toward her. “Hello. Yes. Well, I hope so. We’re having a wedding, and I’m in need of someone to officiate.” As I spoke, I scanned a bulletin board, which was hanging on the wall adjacent to the office door. Every inch of it was covered in scribbled slips of paper. One slip in particular caught my eye.

Please pray for the new girl in town, Tess the stripper.
She really is a very nice girl, just a little misguided and in need of a proper job. Bless her heart.

It was signed by Ms. Betty.

I gasped.

“
Are you all right?” The lady stepped through the doorway and placed a hand on my arm.

I
looked at her and forced a smile. “Fine, thanks.”

“
Good. A wedding, you say?”

“
Yes. On the thirtieth. It’s at Carl’s old place.”

She nodded in recognition.
“You’ll have to talk to our pastor. He’s tied up at the moment. Do you want to wait?”

I shook my head.
“Oh, that’s all right. I have an appointment.”

“Would you like to leave a message for him to call you?” she asked. “I could take down your name—”

“No, no!” I threw a hand up. “I don’t want to trouble you. I’ll call him.” Nice as she was, I wasn’t about to give her my name and have her make the connection between me and Ms. Betty’s prayer request.

She smiled. “Of course.
I’ll get his card so you can give him a call later.”

“
Thank you.”

She ducked into the office and while she was out of sight, I snatched the paper off the bulletin board and shoved it into my back pocket.

She reappeared and handed me a business card. “There you go. He’ll be happy to speak with you.”

“
Thanks again.”

“
Of course. You have a nice day now.” She walked to the door and opened it for me. I followed her, peeking over my shoulder and scanning the bulletin board one last time before I left.

I exited the church and walked across the street to the diner, pulling the paper out of my pocket and looking down at it.
The part about needing a proper job was pretty accurate. I could use some prayer in that department. I shook my head as I read Ms. Betty’s words again. Tess the stripper. It was so absurd even I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Wait until Thatcher heard about this.

Thatcher.

Even thinking his name made me feel flushed, like it was last night in the cottage all over again. Maybe I’d see him today, I thought with a smile.

I dropped the slip of paper into the trash right outside the diner. When I opened the door, Viv
stood there, waiting for me. “Hey!” I waved at her, and she did a double take.

“
Oh, Tess. Look at you!”

“
You like it?” I spun in a circle and could feel my hair fly up all around me like a fringed skirt.

“
I do. It’s beautiful.”

“
Thanks. I needed a change.”

“
I’ve been there. Would you like to find a seat?”

We sat at a table near the window and both ordered salads. As we waited for the food to come out, I sorted through the binder and we review
ed the wedding checklist.

“
Getting the rentals out of the way was a huge step,” I said. “I have a phone conference set up with the other caterer tomorrow. I know it’s a little risky not doing a tasting or shopping around, but given the tight time-frame, I think we have to trust the recommendation and hope for the best.”

Viv nodded and squeezed the juice from a lemon wedge into her ice water.
“I agree. Although”—she lowered her voice and leaned in toward me—“I have to admit I’m a little bit curious about the possum.”

I laughed.
“Me too. Which reminds me, do you have any opinions on the rehearsal dinner food?”

“
It hadn’t crossed my mind.”

“
Well, I know a place. It’s remote, and not a lot of people know about it. It’s sort of a locals-only spot. But that’s what I like about it. This place has an insiders’ exclusive appeal. And they do amazing barbecue. No road kill, I promise. It’s a little more on the casual side, but still… I thought it might be fun to ask them if they’d cater the rehearsal. You know, give it some authentic, small-town Southern charm.”

She cocked her head to the side.
“Locals only? How did
you
find it?”

Maybe I
imagined it, but I thought she sounded a little suspicious. I opened my mouth to answer her, but then hesitated. What kind of question was that? I hadn’t told Viv I wasn’t local. Had I?

“
I noticed your New Jersey license plates,” she explained.

“
Oh.” I nodded. That made sense. “I went with a friend last night.”

“
With Thatcher?”

I hesitated.

“Was it a date?” she asked.

Why was
everyone
in this town trying to stick their nose in my business?

“
No. I was with Thatcher, but it was a business dinner.” This wasn’t entirely untrue, because we
had
talked about the wedding. For a minute or two.

“I’m prying, aren’t I?” she asked.

“A little.” I let out a nervous laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine. It’s… complicated, is all.”

“
I can understand that.”

“
I’m sort of in a weird place these days.”

She nodded and lowered her
gaze.

“
But, anyway. Enough about my derailed love life. I’ll call the barbecue place tonight.” I made a notation in my binder. “All right, what are we thinking for flowers?”

***

A little over three hours later, we finished our meeting with the florist, and I arrived back at the vineyard in search of Thatcher. I needed to find him and track down the number to the barbecue place. And besides, I wanted to show off my new hair.

And maybe kiss him again.

As I pulled the car off the main road and into the drive, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Carl’s Creek looked today. The sign seemed as if it had always been there. The meandering driveway was shaded by a peaceful canopy of verdant trees, and the grapevines were restored into neat manicured rows.

Outside the barn, Jake was unloading a collection of antique-looking stools from the bed of Carl’s old truck. I rolled down my window and waved to him.

“Hey, Tessy. Picked these up at an auction this morning. Thought they’d be good for the tasting room. You like them?”

“
Yeah, I do. Good find.”

“
Did you cut your hair?”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
It looks nice.”

“
Thanks. Hey, have you seen Thatcher?”

“
He’s up at the house looking over some paperwork with Sara.”

“
Oh, good. I need to talk to him about something for the rehearsal dinner. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“
See ya, Tessy.”

I made my way up the driveway to the house and parked the car, checking my reflection in the rearview mirror before stepping out. The front windows of the house were open, and I could hear the hum of the washing machine from inside.

As I approached the porch steps, I could hear something else, too. Sniffling. No, it was more than that. Someone was crying. Hard.

I stopped on the second step and listened for a moment. The sound of hushed voices wafted through the window. I tiptoed up the remaining steps
and stood in the shade of the covered porch. More crying, more hushed voices.

This was not the time to interrupt. Whatever was going on in there seemed… private. I knew I should turn and leave. And yet, something inside of me
needed to know what was happening. I took another step toward the house, and then another, weaving my way past the rocking chairs until I was leaning with my back against the siding, tucked into the space between two windows.

“
It’s gonna be all right.” It was Thatcher’s voice.

“
How can you say that?”

Sara. From what I could tell, it was just the two of them in there.

“Please talk to him, Thatch. This was a mistake. Our whole life is a huge mistake. It should have been you.” She broke into a fit of sobs.

I perked up.
It should have been you?

“
You know I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I’ll always look out for you. But I’m not getting in the way here, Sara. It’s not my place. This is between you and Jake. Maybe it’s time for me to step out of the picture.”

“
No! I have to tell him. But it’s going to break his heart. I don’t want to do this to him.”

“
I know. I know. Shhh. It’s going to be okay. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

“
Please don’t. I need you.” With that last word, her voice broke and she sobbed again.

I took a slow step away from the wall and turned around, peeking into the open window. They were wrapped in an embrace. Thatcher had his back to me and was holding Sara, who
se face was buried in his chest. It was an intimate pose.