Chance of a Lifetime (5 page)

“Tomorrow,” Paulette whispered and closed her eyes. “We might go swimming. I’ve got a new two-piece.”

Emily watched her for a while remembering how her mother had always said Paulette Parker was fragile, like fine china. Sometime in the years since she’d seen her mother’s best friend, the woman had broken and Emily had a feeling all the medicine in the world wouldn’t fix her.

As soon as they were in the hallway, she asked Tannon, “How long has your mom been like this?”

He shrugged. “I have a hard time remembering when she wasn’t like this. Dad used to just say she needed her rest. Even when I was little, there were days she didn’t get out of bed. She used to say that she was given to depression, but she hid it from everyone outside the house. When your folks died and my dad was hurt so badly he was in a wheelchair for almost a year, she couldn’t handle it. I came home from college and took over the business for Dad and he tried to get well while he took care of her.” Tannon ran his hand through his midnight hair. “My dad’s insides were slowly shutting down, and it was still all about Mom.”

“I didn’t know.” She’d really never thought about what had happened to the Parkers after the car wreck. She knew they’d survived it, and her parents had not. She’d come home for the funeral and stayed a week to close up the house and then gone back to college. At college she could pretend that nothing had changed until holidays and breaks with nowhere to go.

Then she’d been offered the library job and had returned to Harmony for the first time since her parents’ death. As she’d driven into town, she’d stopped at the cemetery and went to stand at her parents’ grave. “I’m home,” she’d said with a smile.

It had been almost a dozen years since then and she’d never known about Paulette’s condition. Tannon had always kept his answers simple: “She’s fine” or “She’s better.” He had never shared his troubles. Not until tonight.

“Did your dad ever go back to work?”

“No. Once he could walk, he took care of Mom until he died. Then, because I had to run the business, I hired a live-in nurse and a housekeeper for Mom.”

Tannon opened the door for her and offered his hand as she climbed into his pickup. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk about his mother anymore, so they drove silently back to Emily’s apartment.

“Thanks for coming,” he said when he’d stopped. “I haven’t seen her that happy in a long time. Maybe next time you could ask her what the fortune-teller said.”

Emily didn’t know what to say. She didn’t think there would be a next time. Part of her wanted to remind Tannon that they were no longer friends. They hadn’t been for years. He’d hate knowing that she felt sorry for him, but she couldn’t help but see the weight he carried. His shoulders were broad, but even strong men sometimes break and she didn’t want to think of that happening. She knew how it felt to be broken.

“You want to come in for supper? I left ribs cooking in the slow cooker. They should be falling off the bone by now.”

He waited so long to answer that she wished she could take back the offer. She didn’t actually want to spend time with him, not really, and she certainly didn’t want to hear his made-up reason why he couldn’t come in.

“You sure you got enough?” he finally said. “I’m starving.”

“Yes. I always cook for the week on Saturday and Sunday.” She opened the door and climbed out of the truck. Without another word, she pushed the four-digit code to the main door and walked into the lobby.

He followed.

At the elevator, he waited as she punched the fourth-floor button. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d bolted.

Once inside her place, he looked around appreciatively. “Nice,” he finally said.

“It’s not much,” she admitted, thinking that she probably should have moved to a larger apartment, but she liked the top floor. “I kind of just collected the furniture over the years. Some of it was tossed away and I rescued it.”

He touched an old Bentwood rocker that was next to a Victorian tea table. “It all seems to go together.” He glanced up at the bookshelf circling seven inches below the ceiling. “If the library ever needs books you could loan them a few hundred.”

Emily laughed. “I’ve never been able to say good-bye to books. I thought of having someone come in and steal a dozen a month until I notice the space in the shelves.”

“Might be a good idea,” he agreed.

After he toured her other two rooms, she handed him a plate of ribs.

“This looks great.” He remained standing until she joined him.

They were halfway through the meal before she remembered drinks. “All I have is water and a few diet root beers.”

“I’ll take the water,” he answered.

When she jumped up to get the drinks, he asked without looking at her, “Why didn’t you move back to your parents’
house? I’ve driven past it a few times over the years. It’s all boarded up.”

“I guess because I’ve closed that door.” She lined up three chocolate kisses above his plate. “For dessert.” She smiled.

“You’re pretty good at closing doors,” he said more to himself than her. “I kind of have the opposite problem. Every door I ever walked through in my life seemed to be revolving.”

They finished the meal in silence. He took his plate to the sink, picked up his hat. “Thank you for the meal and for what you did for my mother tonight.”

“You’re welcome.” She watched him closely, thinking there was little of the boy she’d once known. The man before her was far more stranger than friend.

He shifted, widening his stance as if preparing for a blow. “I’d like to return the favor. Maybe I could buy you dinner so you don’t come out a day short on food this week.”

“Maybe,” she said, the only thing she could think of that wouldn’t be a yes or a no.

As she watched Tannon Parker walk toward his pickup, she tried to decide if she should let him back into her life. She’d spent years living in Harmony without having to face her past, but if she let him into even a small part of her world, she might not be able to close the door again.

It was well after ten when she pulled her spiral journal out and wrote a moment of Tannon smiling with a touch of barbecue sauce on his cheek. She’d almost reached over to brush it away.

T
ANNON
P
ARKER DROVE BACK TO HIS PLACE
. M
OST FOLKS
in town thought he still lived in the big rambling house his dad had built for his mother forty years ago. Ted Parker had been almost twenty years older than Paulette and no one mattered to him except her, not even his only son.

Without turning on a light, Tannon climbed the stairs to his quarters above the Parker Trucking offices, his company and home since he’d left college his junior year. The old man hadn’t even bothered to clean out his desk—he’d just turned everything over after the car wreck. “Run the company and pay the bills, boy. I’m going home to your mother.”

That first year Tannon had worked night and day learning the trucking business. He’d made mistakes and more than once had to drive a load himself because a driver didn’t like taking orders from a kid. He’d learned to be fair and hard. He’d learned to be the boss. He’d learned to stand alone.

Somewhere in the chaos of those first few months, he’d
finished out the second-floor loft and moved in. He told the staff it was just a spare room to use when he worked late, but Tannon never spent a night in his parents’ home once it was finished, and he doubted either of his parents had missed him.

When his dad died, Tannon hired round-the-clock care for his mother. He stopped by every day to check on her. Sometimes she didn’t feel like talking to him. Sometimes she wanted all his attention. Whatever he gave or did was never enough. He couldn’t seem to measure up to his father in the undying devotion department, and Paulette wasn’t used to settling.

As he flipped on a lamp tonight, the warm colors of his place greeted him. Emily had decorated in the same earthy browns and dark greens. His might be mostly comfortable overstuffed leather and hers with too many frills and clutter, but they’d used the same palette. Where his place was clean lines and cold in the way of a high-end hotel room, hers was homey. It made him want to settle in at her place and never leave.

She had no idea how closely he’d kept up with her over the years after her parents died. When she’d graduated from Texas Tech, he’d been there. He’d driven to Lubbock and watched her walk the stage in the United Spirit Arena. When families flooded the gym floor after graduation, he’d stood in the stands and watched her standing alone with her diploma in her hand. He’d wanted to go to her, but an ocean of people and memories stood between them, then and now.

A
FTER POURING A DRINK
, T
ANNON WALKED ACROSS THE
hardwood floor that echoed around his open loft. He might be only thirty-two years old, but tonight he felt like a hundred. He’d asked Emily to talk to his mother because he hoped to calm Paulette down, but once they were at the nursing home, he knew he’d wanted the favor more for his sake. Tannon needed normal in his life, if only for an hour.

He lit the fireplace and relaxed back in his favorite chair. For a while tonight, he’d almost had normal. He would have been happy with just being with Emily at the nursing home, driving there, driving back to her place. Only she’d given him far more. She’d invited him in for dinner, having no idea what a rare gift she’d handed him.

Emily Tomlinson was the last person in Harmony he’d expected to be kind to him. When he’d first taken over the business, he’d learned to be rigid if he wanted to survive. From the drivers to the stockyard owners, the men he worked with would have spotted weakness and eaten him alive. The few people who did offer friendship eventually went away when he rarely returned their calls. He told himself he liked the way he lived. It left him not having to answer to anyone. It left him time to work. It left him alone.

The ringing of the phone ended the silence of his night.

“Parker,” Tannon answered as he always did whether at work or home. His trucks were on the road twenty-four hours, seven days a week and every driver knew to call in if there was a problem.

“Mr. Parker, I’m calling with a message from your mother’s doctor. He just made night rounds and wanted to thank you for whatever you did tonight. Paulette is resting calmly. She even agreed to eat her dinner. We’ve guarded hope for improvement.”

“I’m glad,” Tannon answered, thinking his mood was improving also, but no one cared about him.

No one ever had.

“Well,” the nurse said, “I’ll call you if there is any change.”

When he put the phone down, he flipped off the overhead lights and looked out the long windows running along the south wall of his apartment. He could see the four-story apartment building where Emily lived. What he guessed were the lights from her apartment were still on. He wondered if she was reading or watching TV, or maybe washing up the dishes. If he were there, he’d help her clean up,
or probably talk through whatever program she tried to watch, or sit silently beside her while they both read.

It would be heaven to have someone to just be with. Not do anything. Maybe not even think. Just be.

“If wishes were horses,” he said aloud, “beggars would ride.”

S
UNDAY MORNING

B
EAU
Y
ATES AND HIS FRIEND
B
ORDER
B
IGGS SPENT AN
hour organizing their meal plan. Ronny, who had the duplex next to the Biggs boys, could be counted on for at least one meal a week and sweets delivered now and then. Border’s grandmother always made dinner for the boys on Sunday night at the bed-and-breakfast where she worked. It went unsaid that Beau would be invited. The meal was great, but they’d have to put up with Martha Q Patterson, the owner. Harley fed them on the nights they played at Buffalo’s and sometimes on the nights they just went in to rehearse. Only problem there was all he served was hamburgers and wings.

So if they ate cereal for breakfast, snacked on whatever leftovers they found, supplemented with PB&J sandwiches, that meant they only had to buy two meals a week. Border thought they should go to the all-you-can-eat buffet on
Wednesdays at the truck stop. The downside to that was most of the food was left out until someone ate it. The second plan was to order two big meals, eat half, and bring home the leftovers for another meal.