What She Wanted (29 page)

He’s thought about this
. “Yeah?”

“Sure. I can reassure you when you have the usual freshmen struggles and you can tell me what it’s like to stand in Times Square.”

I licked my lips and nodded eagerly. “Deal.”

“I’ll always be here if you want me.” Sincerity burned in his voice.

I fought a mammoth smile. “Fine. I get to have everything. Are you happy?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

“It’s a little warm tonight. I’d probably be happier if we slept in our underpants.”

I laughed and rolled off his chest onto the layers of soft blankets. This would never stop being my favorite summer memory, even if I lived to be a hundred.

Heidi angled an over-sized curling iron near my head, searching for any strand of hair that dared not twirl like the rest. “Your hair is magnificent. Why don’t you do this every day?”

I fiddled with my lip gloss in the mirror. “It took you an hour. No one has time for that.”

“Totally worth it.” She air-framed my head with her hands. “Look at this. Seriously.”

I stared incredulously at our reflections. “I like it how it normally looks.”

Her mouth fell open. Offense screwed her face into a knot.

“I like this, too,” I backpedaled. “A lot. It’s gorgeous,” I promised. “I love it and it’s amazing.”

“But?”

“But...” I scrambled for a way to make her smile again. “But all these curls are obviously meant for a special occasion. If I looked like this every day, what would I do when I had a fantastic going-away party to attend?”

She unplugged the curling iron and set it on its legs. “Fine. That’s a good point, I guess.”

I stood to evaluate the complete girl-next-door look. Long sun-streaked hair hung in ringlets down my back and over both shoulders, contrasting sharply with the deep purple hue of my tank top. My jeans were soft and my feet were bare. All I needed were sandals, and I was ready to go.

Heidi had gone with her usual, complicated, pinup girl look. She’d raided her mom’s store for a strawberry red pinafore dress and kitten heels. Her hair flew out in every direction from beneath a white satin headband. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous.” The overall look was adorable and way better than the nineteen sixties A-line femmebot number she had on first.

She did a weird dip, hip, snap move, and struck a pose. “Thank you, darling.”

Oh, boy.
I checked my messages and the time. “It’s almost seven. We’ve got to go. Mark made me promise to be there before people started showing up.”

She grabbed her purse and turned for the door. “Smart. He’s not known for congeniality. I’m still shocked he agreed to have the party in your backyard.”

“Me, too, but he’s trying. I know it’s hard for him.”

“How was fishing this morning?”

“Perfect. The fish were biting and Mark caught one he’ll be talking about in ten years.”

We passed a pile of sealed boxes and colorful plastic totes on the porch. Heidi slowed to stare at them. “This is the last time we’ll ever leave my house together before we go to college. Who knows what we’ll be like the next time we’re here like this? We could be totally different next time. Everything can change in a year.”

Everything can change in a minute
. She probably didn’t need to hear that right now.

“What if this is our last time together on this porch? Ever?”

The fine hairs on my arms stood at attention, and I rubbed them down. “Not going to happen. When do you leave?”

She blinked emotion-filled eyes and long false lashes. “Mom’s driving me to Kent after breakfast. When’s your flight?”

“Ten fifteen. I have to be at the airport an hour and a half early, so Dean’s picking me up at seven. I’m getting up before dawn to double check my packing.” Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t sleep.

“Is Mark going with you to the airport?”

“No, but he’s making pancakes.”

She was silent for a moment before seeming to accept it. “So, this is it.” She bounced onto her toes and squeezed my hands in hers. Her fruity body spray wafted up my nose. I tried to take a mental picture of her like this, young, happy, wonderful. “Everything’s changing.”

Tears hung heavy in my eyes. “Hey, I thought you couldn’t wait to leave. Where’s that enthusiasm now? It’s not fair to go sentimental on me before my good-bye party. I’ll show up a sobbing mess.”

She dropped my hands to dig a pair of tissues from her purse. She handed one to me and carefully collected the tears at the corner of her eyes. “This is basically horrible. Why do people grow up? Why does everything change? The idea of going was great…but this.” She sniffled. “This sucks.”

I pulled her against my chest and held her tight. “Everything always changes. It’s okay.”

She nodded frantically and pushed away from me, smoothing her dress. “Okay. Jeez. Don’t get me started with the crying. I can’t stop once I get going. Don’t mess up your hair. Do you know how long that took me?”

“Yeah. An hour.”

She lifted her chin. “That’s right, so be careful.” Her small smile was sad but hopeful. “We’ll always be best friends, right? Even if you meet a million uber-chic people in New York and think Woodsfield is for Betty Sues and cow tipping and you get way too famous to come home. Even then, we’ll still be cool, right?”

I grabbed her again and buried my face in her big red hair. “Yes, and when you become a world-famous designer and visit New York for Fashion Week and don’t have time to sleep or call home, you’ll still make time to have coffee with me, right?”

She pulled away and quirked her ruby lips to the side in faux consideration. “Will you do your hair like this?”

“If I don’t cut it off in an adorable pixie cut to show my newfound big-city confidence, then yes.”

“Don’t even.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We rode in silence to my house.

I stretched and curled my fingers outside the open window, trying and failing to hold onto the warm summer air and this moment in time. Our favorite song from junior high school boomed through her speakers, transporting me to a time when things were simple and nothing changed. Now, my life was in flux, everything was changing, and I wanted to hold onto this reality forever. I also wanted to let it go and fly away.

“Why are all these people carrying blankets and folding chairs?” Heidi slid her car against the curb at the end of my street. “Who did you invite tonight?”

“I don’t know. Your mom and Sylvia thought a community-wide send-off for the seniors would be fun. They said they were making a few calls.”

She pulled her car keys out of the tumbler and rolled her head against the rest. “Yeah. I think that was a lie. I think they took out an ad on the evening news.”

I opened the passenger door and the muffled bass of a country song drifted through the air from somewhere beyond our rear gate. The front lawn teemed with locals hauling covered dishes, chairs, and coolers. Twinkle lights lined the porch, the fence surrounding our backyard and the driveway. Worry coursed through me. “Mark must be crapping his pants right now.”

I drifted along the sidewalk to the drive and made my way into the backyard with Heidi at my side. Music poured from speakers propped in the kitchen window. A hodgepodge of card tables with plastic cloths and mismatched dishes from every house in town lined the fence. An onslaught of scents, from spicy fried chicken to rich homemade fudge, saturated the air.

I smiled and waved as I made my way through the crowd. “This is unbelievable.”

Mark was on the back porch in a “Kiss the Cook” apron, looking like he might flatten anyone who tried.

“Nice apron.” I tugged the rough fabric between my fingertips.

He harrumped. “Sylvia insisted.”

“Really?” I extended the word, pondering the implication Sylvia could get him to wear such a stupid thing or have this massive party.

He looked freakishly at home, pushing masses of hotdogs over hot grates.

Heidi grabbed my elbow and turned me toward the knots and clusters of laughing people. She named everyone in sight. “How did I not know about this?”

“You couldn’t know,” Mark chimed in. “You’ve got a big mouth.”

I laughed at the spot-on jab.

She was unfazed. “It’s just wrong. I could’ve helped.”

He shook his head, clearly done talking to her.

I was thankful for his consistency. “I think this is very cool. Half the town’s here. It’s a giant see-ya-later-seniors barbecue.”

“Right!” Heidi’s mom wiggled through a set of old men on the porch steps. “We may have gotten carried away with the guest list.”

“Not at all,” I teased.

“Well, spreading the word is easy in a small town.”

I scanned the crowd for my beloved boss. “I can’t believe you got Sylvia to help plan this. She agreed to barbecued chicken and hotdogs?” My smile widened. I couldn’t imagine her having any part of such a regular glamour-free event.

“I wouldn’t say she agreed as much as gave up. I’m tough to argue with.”

Heidi hugged her mom. “I can’t believe how many people are here.”

Her mom pulled me in to their embrace. “You know, you might’ve felt alone all these years, but I look out there”—she released Heidi and I and motioned to the scene before us, laughing neighbors, racing children, neighbors toting plates with samples from one another’s favorite recipes—“and I see your family everywhere.”

Could it be that I was never alone?
The truth of the thought was a boulder on my chest. I’d spent my life praying for family, and I had one right under my nose. “I’m so crazy happy right now.”

“Good.” Heidi clapped. “I hope you’re also hungry because this place smells amazing. I want to eat it all. Will this count toward my freshman fifteen if I don’t get to campus until tomorrow afternoon?”

Her mom shook her head in the negative. “Nope. Especially not if you get me some apple pie while you’re at the buffet.”

Heidi bounced away.

“Katy!” Mark called my name from his post at the grill.

I excused myself and headed to Mark’s side.

He shoveled a fresh load of hotdogs onto a platter and opened another package. “How many people are coming? Should I buy more hotdogs?”

“I don’t know how many are coming, but we don’t need more food. Everyone’s bringing something to share.”

He lowered his shoulders in relief. “This is nuts. Freeloaders. I don’t think they’re all from this town.”

“They are, and you know it.”

“I don’t know it. I also don’t know how I got stuck cooking or who’s going to clean up.”

I inhaled his nasty Brut cologne and tried to make it into a memory. “Thank you for this. I appreciate it more than you know.”

He paid careful attention to rolling hotdogs over the grates. “Well, you didn’t get a graduation party. I owed you that. Maybe some other stuff too.”

“Maybe.”

He slid his eyes my way, briefly, before jerking his attention back to the grill. “Don’t do anything stupid in New York.”

“I won’t.” I was tempted to tell him it was legal to go topless in New York City, but my attempts at humor were usually lost on Mark.

He waved his tongs. “Here come your boys.”

Josh jogged through the yard with Dean on his heels.

They stopped at the porch, slightly out of breath. Josh dropped a football near his feet. “Your boyfriend’s got a good arm.”

I wrapped my arms around Dean’s waist. “Yes, he does.” Dean had a good everything.

“Wow,” Josh complained. “It was a tiny compliment. Get a room.”

I peeled away and pressed a hand over my mouth. “Sorry.” What were the rules with PDA and a newly present father figure? “Okay.”

Josh looked like he’d sucked a lemon. “Never get a room. You got that? It’s a figure of speech. Never. Ever. Get a room. I misspoke.”

“Got it,” Dean rearranged his cap and blushed.

Josh scrubbed giant hands over his face. “I think I’d better get a drink. You want anything, Mark?”

“Yeah, beer.”

Josh headed for the coolers. “Two bottled waters, coming up.”

I breathed easier. Being a daughter was tricky.

Dean laced his fingers with mine and turned our palms together. “How are you feeling?”

My cheeks scorched in remembrance of our night in the barn and the promises we’d made. The sensation of his hands on my skin was still fresh and powerful in my mind. “Overwhelmed.”

He lowered his lips to my cheek. “You want to sneak away for a few?”

I squeezed his fingers with mine. “Is it rude if I dip out to gather my senses?”

“You live with Mark. People expect you to be rude.”

Mark snorted but didn’t argue.

I took that as an approval and pulled Dean behind me through the yard toward his barn, stopping every few steps to thank someone for coming and answer questions about NYFA, New York, and my plans. It took more than an hour to make it to our destination, but it was worth the wait.

Dean pressed my back to the barn door and planted his hands on either side of me, creating a cocoon where we could be alone. “You look beautiful.” He stepped into the space between my feet and kissed my forehead.

“I’m happy.”

The sun had set on my last day in my hometown. Lightning bugs lifted off in their usual, beautiful, reverse cascade. Crickets sang the night score. The world smelled of ash from a nearby campfire and a yard full of food around the corner.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He relented his protective stance and curled a length of hair around my ear. “You know, I was thinking about your list and how hard you worked on it this summer, coming out of your comfort zone to do all these new things. You told me you wanted to be brave, but you were always brave. If you weren’t, you’d never have set a goal like that. You’d never have opened up to all these people, never chosen to love a crotchety old man who refused to extend the same acceptance to you. You were willing to live in a seedy little apartment over Ray’s just to let Mark breathe because you thought you were the reason for his unhappiness. This is all because you’re brave. You did this.”

He meant the enormous gathering of half our town in my backyard. Mark at the grill.