The Peach Keeper (13 page)

“I think so,” she said.

Colin paused, and she could tell what conclusions he was coming to. “Are you drunk? There’s an empty whiskey bottle in your living room.”

“No, not anymore. And get out of my house.”

He laughed. “What happened?”

“Like I’m going to tell you.”

“You know I’m going to find out sooner or later.”

“Over my dead body,” she snarled.

“Okay, all right. Listen, the reason I called is because I don’t seem to have much authority when it comes to the Blue Ridge Madam. People want to talk to
you
, not me. Meet me at the police station. I need some answers about clearing the scene in order to move that tree, and I need them now.”

“Right,” she said, trying to rally. “Give me an hour.”

She hung up, then sat there, her head cradled in her hands. Even her hair hurt. She didn’t know how much time had passed before Willa came back and said, “Are you all right?”

She looked up at her. She was holding a cup of coffee and a bottle of Advil. She handed both to Paxton. “You saved me last night,” Paxton said. She’d never forget the glare of the lights of the Jeep as it came to a stop, then the sight of Willa getting out and coming to her rescue. She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life.

Willa shrugged. “You were out of your element.”

“I can’t believe you did that for me. Why?”

Willa looked like she thought it was an odd question. “When someone needs help, you help. Right? I thought that was a tenet of the Women’s Society Club … your ‘sparkling good deeds,’ ” she said, quoting what Paxton had put on the invitations to the gala.

Paxton wasn’t sure what bothered her most, that Willa saw her as a charity case or that she could never imagine any of her friends in the club coming to her rescue like that. The Women’s Society Club was about helping people in the most distant way possible, about giving money and then dressing up and celebrating it. The Osgood family charity trust that Paxton ran did real work, and didn’t ask to be congratulated. So why on earth did she still continue with the club? History, she supposed. Legacy. That was important to her.

She swallowed a few tablets with the strong coffee, then set the coffee and bottle of Advil on the coffee table in front of her and felt the contents churn in her stomach. “Thank you. For everything. I’ve got to go. Where is my tote bag?” She suddenly panicked. “Where is my
car
?”

There was a knock at the door. “I don’t know where your tote bag is, but your car is still at the Gas Me Up. Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of it,” Willa said as she went to the door and opened it.

It was, of all people, Sebastian. He took one look at Willa in her little sleep outfit and said, “My God, there’s a woman under those jeans and T-shirts, after all.”

Willa rolled her eyes but smiled.

The morning light was hitting his pale hair, making him seem angelic. He should have been a welcome sight, but he was the last person she wanted to see right now. Paxton stood to turn away but immediately regretted the move. Her head felt full and tight, which made her slightly nauseated. “What is he doing here?” she asked Willa.

Willa closed the door behind Sebastian, and the light left him, making him human again. “He kept calling your cellphone last night. I had to get up and answer it. He was worried about you. I told him you were fine and sleeping over here.”

Sebastian walked up to Paxton and pushed some of her loose hair out of her eyes. He managed to bring everything that had happened between them last night back to her with just one look. All she wanted. All he couldn’t give. “She forgot to mention that, at some point, a substantial amount of alcohol was obviously involved,” he said. “Darling, if your eyes were any more red, you’d have X-ray vision.”

Paxton stepped back, avoiding his eyes now. “I’m fine. It’s just the pepper spray.”

“The
what
?”

Paxton looked to Willa, who shook her head. She hadn’t told him. “Nothing.”

Sebastian gave her an assessing look. “I told Willa I’d come get you and take you to your car this morning, but I’m not sure you’re able to drive.”

“Of course I am,” she said. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about me. I just need to use the bathroom first.”

“It’s through the kitchen, at the back of the house.” Willa pointed, and Paxton gratefully stumbled in that direction. She walked through the pretty yellow kitchen and found the half-bath. She closed the door and put her hands on the sink, taking deep breaths so she wouldn’t get sick. She couldn’t believe Sebastian saw her like this, pitiful and hungover, obviously drowning herself in her sorrows, as if she couldn’t handle her stresses any better, as if she couldn’t handle his rejection.

Why had Willa let him come over? She remembered telling Willa that she was in love with him, the
one
thing she’d sworn she’d never say out loud. She should have known. Secrets always find a way out.

She splashed her face with cold water and managed to scrub the mascara from around her eyes. She’d put mascara on? She looked down at herself. And a red dress and heels. All this to go to a convenience store for wine. What had she been thinking? That was the point, she guessed. She hadn’t been thinking. She pinned her hair back and sighed. It wasn’t much help. She decided to get this over with, and walked back to the living room.

Sebastian and Willa were talking easily. They both went quiet when she entered the room, the proverbial pink elephant.

Sebastian turned. “Shall we?”

“Yes, I know you want to get to that free clinic you have this weekend,” Paxton said as she walked to the door. “Thanks again, Willa.”

“Sure,” Willa said. “Anytime.”

Once they were outside, Sebastian opened the door to his Audi, and Paxton slid in. He got behind the wheel and pulled out of the neighborhood in silence.

“Do you want to talk about what happened last night?” he finally asked.

“No.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about what happened between us,” he said quietly. “I was referring to what happened with you and Willa.”

“It’s just between us girls,” Paxton said, staring out the side window. She smiled weakly. “Well, I guess you are one of the girls.”

“I’m not a girl, Paxton,” he said, and the coolness in his voice made her turn to him.

“I didn’t mean to imply you were. Not literally. I just meant—”

“Where is your car?” he interrupted her by asking.

“The Gas Me Up on State Boulevard.”

“What is it doing there? Did it break down?”

“No.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

She turned back to the window. “It doesn’t matter.”

Sebastian pulled into the lot of the Gas Me Up, and the place was busy with early-morning commuters making pit stops. He parked beside her BMW, which was, mercifully, intact. She’d had no idea how she was going to explain it to Sebastian or her family if those cretins had trashed her car in revenge.

“You don’t happen to have any Visine on you, do you?” she asked. “My mother is going to hate seeing me like this.”

“I have some at home,” he said. “Do you want me to take you there?”

“No thanks.” She was thirty years old. She shouldn’t have to sneak back home after a night out. “This would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to go home and change.”

“Bring some clothes to keep in my house. If you need them, they’ll be there.” She turned to him, surprised by the intimacy of the offer, especially after last night. “Why didn’t you call me, Pax?” he asked, and she realized, incredibly, that he was hurt. “If you didn’t want to go home, you could have stayed with me.”

“Willa offered to drop me off at your house, but I told her not to,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because I was drunk. And we both know that me out of control isn’t a pretty sight.”

“I always think you’re beautiful.”

She couldn’t handle this. Not now. She opened the door. “I’ll see you soon. Thank you for the ride.”

He reached out and took her hand, not letting her get out. “I want to help you, Pax.”

“I know you do. That’s why I’m not asking again.”

When Paxton got back to Hickory Cottage, she grabbed her tote bag, which she had obviously left in her car and had been so relieved to find, and entered the house as quietly as possible. Her mother was a late sleeper, her father an early riser in golfing weather. There was a good chance she could just slip through and not be seen.

Once Paxton got to the kitchen, she thought she was home free. She smiled at Nola, a square older woman with red hair fading to gray, and so many freckles that she looked like she’d been splattered with a paintbrush. She was kneading dough on the kitchen island. Plumes of flour were floating around her, making her look like she was in a snow globe.

Paxton’s smile slowly faded when she realized there was someone else in the kitchen.

“Mama!” Paxton said. “What are you doing up this early?”

Sophia was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of her. She was in her long white eyelet nightgown and robe, her hair pushed back with a wide headband. She slept in her diamond stud earrings every night. Even if she hadn’t worn them that day, she actually put them on to go to bed.

“I heard you leave last night,” Sophia said.

“Yes,” Paxton said. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Do you want to tell me where you’ve been?” Sophia asked. “Were you with that Sebastian person? I couldn’t believe it when he just dropped by last night. I … I don’t know how to act around him.” She tugged at the lapels of her robe.

“No, Mama. I wasn’t with Sebastian last night.”

“Well, I don’t want you coming in at these hours, especially when there’s so much going on right now with the Madam. Where is your head? Honestly, Paxton, what’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” she answered.

Paxton and her mother had had a good relationship
throughout Paxton’s childhood, mainly because Paxton felt there had been no other choice. Her mother had been fanatical about planning special bonding times. When Paxton was a teenager, her friends had even envied her relationship with her mother. Everyone knew that neither Paxton nor Sophia scheduled anything on Sunday afternoons, because that was popcorn-and-pedicures time, when mother and daughter sat in the family room and watched sappy movies and tried out beauty products. And Paxton could remember her mother carrying dresses she’d ordered into her bedroom, almost invisible behind tiers of taffeta, as they’d planned for formal dances. She’d loved helping Paxton pick out what to wear. And her mother had exquisite taste. Paxton could still remember dresses her mother wore more than twenty-five years ago. Imprinted in her memory were shiny blue ones, sparkly white ones, wispy rose-colored ones. She remembered watching her mother and father dance at charity functions and parties. From a very young age, she knew she wanted that for herself, not the dresses—though she’d thought for a while that was all it took—but the dream of dancing with the man you love, having him hold you like he never wanted to let you go.

It was only this past year that things with her mother had gotten tense, and she was beginning to understand why. She and her mother had never had an adult relationship. And getting to one was like trying to walk in thick mud, one excruciating step at a time.

Paxton inched her way toward the French doors. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to change and leave again.
Colin called me this morning. I’m going to meet him at the police station to see what we can do about getting the scene cleared at the Madam for the tree planting.”

That made Sophia smile. “Colin and his trees.”

It made Paxton smile, too. Colin had always had a thing about trees. He’d spent half his childhood in the hickory grove on the estate, just lying there and staring up at the branches, as if the history of the world could be found there.

Sophia’s smile suddenly faded. “Just because he stayed out all night when he first got back doesn’t mean you get to do it, too.”

It was a double standard Paxton was used to by now. Sophia had focused all her efforts on shaping Paxton into who she wanted her to be, but she had only a peripheral effect on Colin, whom everyone had assumed was being molded by their father in some mysterious man way on the golf course. But Colin had broken away from whatever ephemeral expectations their father had, and by then it was too late for Sophia to rope him back in.

Sophia stood, then sighed. She looked around the kitchen in a drowsy, languid kind of way. “I’m going to lie down until breakfast. Nola, wake me if I fall asleep.”

Nola and Paxton watched Sophia leave, like something out of an old movie. “Will you be staying for breakfast?” Nola asked when Sophia had made her exit.

Paxton swallowed. “No. I don’t think I could handle food right now.”

Nola smiled as Paxton walked out. “It’s about time,” she said.