Chemistry Lessons (28 page)

Rosie had always wanted to see the Liberty Bell and Constitution Hall.
Of course, Philadelphia was more than a tourist destination for Destry. It was
his home. He and Mercedes were staying with his parents while they were there. Destry
was that serious about Mercedes—serious enough to take her all the way across
the country and introduce her to his parents. The thought had stayed with her
through the night, breathing its icy chill across her skin so that she shivered
even under the weight of three afghans.

The day was drippy, dreary, and gray—a terrible day for Halloween.
Folding her arms against the cold, she rolled out of bed, stumbled into
Grandpa’s bedroom, and stared into his closet. She needed to get her mind off
of Destry and onto what she should be doing: packing clothes for Grandpa to
take to the nursing home. It was no use. As the rain fell, all she could think
of was how Destry had pulled her out of the flood and into his truck. If she
could only go back in time, she would not have ignored those feelings. Regret
colored everything with its dull, gray haze.

She packed shirts, pants, underwear, socks, and toiletries, writing
Grandpa’s name on each item with permanent marker. She tried to picture him in
a nursing home, watching soap operas and playing card games with a bunch of old
people in wheelchairs. The image made her eyes well up with tears.

Perhaps it had been a bad choice to take the day off to do this. It was
so cold and quiet in the empty house, and Halloween had always been so fun when
her grandmother was alive. But true to the holiday, ghosts and shadows haunted
her, chilling her to the core.

Attempting to cheer herself up, she turned on her playlist of breakup
songs. They only reminded her that soon she would lose everything, including
the house. Right now, the insurance was paying for Grandpa’s stay in the
nursing home, but his policy would only cover a few weeks. After that, the
family would pay for his care out of pocket, and Uncle Jeff had made it clear
that meant they had to sell the ranch.

She would be completely alone. Without her animals. Without Grandpa.
Without Destry.

She collapsed on the floor in front of the closet and stared at Grandpa’s
shoes, wiping her eyes and barely caring which ones to pack. Wile E came up
beside her, sniffing a pair of old boots. Rosie pushed her away. “Shoo, silly
coyote.” But Wile E stepped farther into the closet, sticking her nose into a
cardboard box labeled
Things that won’t fit in the desk
. It was a box
Rosie had looked through often to find note cards or school pictures, but she
hadn’t touched it since Grandma died. Though she had no good reason to look in
it now, she dragged it out of the closet.

She picked up a greeting card laying at the top of the box’s contents.
Grandma had always kept a stash of greeting cards, mostly the sentimental type
that was meant to provide encouragement. This card featured a path through a
flowered meadow. Scripted words ran across the top of the picture “Do not go
where the path may lead. Forge a new path.” She could almost hear her Grandma’s
voice speaking the words.

Most people didn’t realize how much of a path-builder her grandmother
had been. She had a way of planting thoughts in others’ minds, so they thought
they came up with the idea in the first place. Over the years, Grandma had
started the annual county fairs, inspired the library to buy new books, and
helped Farrah’s hair salon overcome its rocky beginning. She never got the
credit for leading the projects, but without her, they probably wouldn’t have happened
at all. If only Rosie could have been more like her grandmother.

What was it Grandpa had said?
You don’t
have all the time in
the world.
He had intended those words for Destry, but Grandma would have
said them to Rosie. And in that moment, Rosie knew exactly what her Grandmother
would tell her to do. It was bolder than anything Rosie had ever done, and
completely out of her comfort zone.

Hands trembling, she dug deeper into the box, rediscovering photographs
from her childhood and youth. There were pictures from church picnics, Fourth
of July parades, and Christmas parties. Here and there, she recognized the
faces of her students from their younger years when Grandma worked as a
kindergarten aide.

She stopped at a picture of a kindergarten-age Janessa in pigtails
sitting on Grandma’s lap. Turning the picture over, she saw that Grandma had
written on the back: “Janessa was my special helper after I sprained my ankle.
She is an unusually sympathetic child.” Rosie read the words again and again,
remembering the way Janessa had cheered for her at the town hall meeting. Maybe
it hadn’t been a joke.

With her back aching, Rosie raised herself from the floor, staring at
the picture. She had avoided Janessa for the past year and a half. It had only
been a few months since Rosie had managed to look her in the eyes again. It
wouldn’t be easy for the two of them to have a serious conversation. But she
knew that talking to her could be the key to everything. It was one of the
things her grandmother would do. And now was the perfect time to find Janessa
alone—two o’clock on a Thursday afternoon.

For Rosie to accomplish all she planned, she had to hurry. It turned
out, though, that it was easier than she thought to arrange things. Thanks to
Tanner’s nagging, she had enough money to buy a plane ticket and pay the oldest
McFerrin boy to take care of the ranch. After a few minutes on the computer and
the phone, all she had to do was pack her suitcase and the rest of Grandpa’s
things.

Driving into town, she pulled over to the side of the road twice to
re-read the greeting card and the words on the back of the picture. She could
do this. She could forge a new path.

La Cocina’s parking lot was empty. It was exactly what she wanted . . .
and exactly what she
didn’t
want—the perfect opportunity to talk with
Janessa. Rosie got out of her car and walked inside, waiting for someone to
respond to the sound of the door opening. No one came. Wringing her hands, she
wondered whether Janessa’s standing ovation could have been a sarcastic
gesture. Even if it was, she had to try something before Destry moved. She
needed all the people she could get on his side.

Taking the photograph of Janessa and her grandmother from her purse,
she read the words on the back. Then she opened the restaurant’s front door
again so the bell would sound once more.

Janessa came bouncing out the kitchen door, flashing her fake smile. “What
can I get for you, Ms. Curtis?”

Rosie forced herself to look into Janessa’s eyes. “I wanted to talk to
you . . . if you have time.”

Janessa blinked and tilted her head. “You want to talk . . . to me?”

Rosie bit the inside of her cheek. She tried to put a friendly note
into her voice. “Do you mind sitting down with me for a minute?”

Janessa gazed out into the empty parking lot and then gestured toward a
booth at the back. “As long as we don’t get any more customers.”

Rosie slid into the booth, placing the photograph in the middle of the
table. “I found this in my grandmother’s closet this morning. I thought she
would want you to have it.”

Janessa sat down and stared at it, covering her mouth with her hand.
Her usual cheerful expression faded, and her face crumpled with grief. Had she
been hiding this emotion all along, punishing herself underneath her happy
façade?

Rosie turned the picture over so Janessa could read what Grandma had
written on the back. “It’s time we both got on with our lives. That’s what she
would want.”

Janessa traced the edge of the photograph with her fingers. “I think
about her every day.” Her voice trembled. “I’m so sorry.”

Rosie couldn’t bring herself to respond with
I forgive you
. She
swallowed. “I need your help.”

Janessa’s brows pinched together.

“Destry’s decided to sell his ranch,” Rosie explained. “He’s giving up
on his plan to help former addicts.”

Janessa frowned, staring down at the photograph. “I guess it was just
too good to be true—someone like him moving here and building a place like
that.” It seemed her standing ovation the other night had been sincere. Maybe
Grandma was right—Janessa was unusually sympathetic. “And I was hoping to get a
job there.”

Rosie straightened in her seat. “It’s not too good to be true. And we’re
going to make it happen.”

Janessa looked up, her eyes wide. “We?”

“I feel like you can help more than most people. You come from an
influential family, and you talk to a lot of people here at the restaurant.
Have you told your parents you want to work at Destry’s resort?”

“No.” Janessa squinted one eye. She probably had no idea how much the
Moores ran this town.

“I think if they knew, they might help convince other people that it’s
a good idea. Not that we’ll be able to convince everybody, but the more people
we can get on our side, the better.”

Janessa scrunched her nose. “Maybe.” She stayed quiet for a minute, but
then she began to nod her head. “That presentation Tanner gave at the
meeting—that’s the type of thing we’ll need to do if we want to get people back
on Destry’s side. We’ll need a Public Relations campaign. I learned about that
kind of stuff in college.”

Rosie couldn’t help smiling. “Tell me what we need to run a Public
Relations campaign.”

“For one thing, we’re going to need more people. Farrah and Mercedes
will probably want to help. And maybe some of the kids at the school.” Janessa’s
cheerleader voice had returned in all its exuberance. “We’ll talk to people
one-on-one, write some articles for the newspaper, share positive stories about
Destry online, maybe print up some pamphlets.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve
got a break in a few minutes. We can start to work on an article if you have
time to stick around.”

Rosie didn’t want to squelch her enthusiasm. “I’d love to, Janessa, but
I can’t today. I have to take some things to my grandpa in the nursing home and
then I’m getting on a plane to Philadelphia.” She realized how inconsiderate
she sounded—asking Janessa to help right before she left town.

Janessa only grinned. “Philadelphia? Isn’t that where Destry is right
now?” It was obvious from the exaggerated pitch of her voice that she suspected
Rosie might have a romantic motive.

Rosie found it impossible to keep from giggling. She was done hiding
her feelings. “It is. I’m stopping there on my way to New York City to see the
paintings I’m auctioning off. I won’t have a lot of time in Philadelphia, but I’ll
see what I can do to find some positive stories about Destry while I’m there.”

It took Destry longer to get his work done than he had anticipated.
There were so many meetings and interruptions. At least fifteen different employees
came into his office to gush about how much they had missed him. He knew it
couldn’t all be genuine—people were rarely genuine with their bosses—and it
made him homesick for a chat with old Mr. Curtis, who always spoke his mind.

Plus, he kept thinking of how sad Rosie had looked at the hospital. If
any of those feelings had been for Destry’s sake, wouldn’t she have said
something by now?  She already knew how he felt. No, that sad look had more to
do with her grandfather’s injury.

Today was the day the old man would move into the nursing home. He
wondered how that had gone. Looking at his watch and calculating the time
difference, he figured Rosie would be home now, feeding her animals. He could
see her standing in the tall grass beside her barn, a stiff autumn breeze
blowing through her hair. As soon as he had a minute, he would call her.

Of course, with this being his first day back, he never got a minute.
He didn’t have the luxury of taking a taxi home from the office either. Since
it was Halloween, his vice president claimed a taxi would take too long and
gave him a ride instead.

 It was a little after seven p.m. when he walked into his parents’
house to find Mercedes placing photos from old albums through a scanner. She
waved and put a finger to her mouth. His mother lay asleep in her recliner.
Never one to dress down around company, his mom wore a lavender sweater set
with gray slacks. He promised himself that he would carve out some time this
weekend to spend with her. The two of them hadn’t sat down to talk, face to
face, since his brother’s death.

His father dozed in a matching recliner, a bowl of Halloween candy on
his lap. As Destry plucked a candy bar from the bowl, he wondered how many
trick-or-treaters would have come to his house in Lone Spur. No one had come
begging treats at his parents’ house last year. The big bowl of candy was just
his mother’s wishful thinking.

He sat down on the sofa next to Mercedes and watched as an old photo
appeared on her laptop screen. In it, he and his dad were showing off a fish
they had caught. “What are you doing?” he whispered to Mercedes.

 “Gathering evidence.”

 “What crime are you trying to convict me of, fishing without a
license?”

 She stifled a laugh, tilting her head toward his dozing mother. “Being
a good guy. Janessa asked me to help her with your PR campaign.”

Janessa Moore
was conducting a PR campaign? That didn’t sound good. Still, how could things
get any worse than they already were for him back in Lone Spur? “I didn’t know
I had a PR campaign.”

“Well, we just started it today.”

He pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his collar. “You and Janessa?”

“And some other people at home.”

It would be five p.m. in Lone Spur right now, about the time Rosie
usually e-mailed him about his lesson plans for the week. He could see her
sitting in her dining room, her laptop open on the table. There was no point in
thinking of her though. She had rejected him, even after she broke up with
Tanner.

 Mercedes’s voice broke into his thoughts. “So who do you think we
should interview?”

He’d obviously missed something she said. “Interview?”

“Long day at work, huh?” She stepped behind him to massage his
shoulders.

 He froze at her touch, checking to see whether his mom and dad were
still asleep.

“You’ve got a huge knot here,” she said, kneading the area behind his
neck. “Janessa wants me to get some videos. Your mom said you coached a little
league baseball team a few years ago. You don’t happen to have any pictures or
videos of the games?”

“I don’t remember any.” He doubted old videos could do much to change
things in Lone Spur anyway. “I’m not going to let you spend your vacation doing
some project for Janessa when you came here to see the sights. Did you get to
go anywhere today?”

She nodded. “Your parents were so sweet. They took me to Independence
Hall and Reading Terminal Market.” She bent to whisper in his ear. “But
sightseeing wasn’t really my motivation for coming here.” Her voice turned
sultry, even with his parents sleeping in the background. If he stayed here
with her, she might do something that would give his parents the wrong
impression.

He already had plans to take her out for a night on the town. “Have you
eaten?” he asked, standing up from his chair.

She placed a hand on her hip. “Don’t tell me you haven’t! There’s
leftover chicken pot pie in the fridge.”

He patted the tickets in his pocket, making sure they were still there.
“Let me go change. I’ve got a surprise I’ll tell you about when I get back.”

He had walked down the hall and entered his room—his mom had put him in
Cody’s old room—before he realized that Mercedes was following him. “You were
quiet,” he said as she slid her hands up the sides of his dress shirt, a touch
that should have set his nerves on fire. What was wrong with him? She was gorgeous,
and he felt nothing. He bent to kiss her, but she wasn’t wearing her heels, and
he had to bend over more than usual to compensate for the difference in their
height. They bumped noses before their lips connected.

Destry looked around at Cody’s old futon sofa. It wasn’t high quality
furniture—Cody had probably found it on the side of the road—but it would do.
He sat on it, pulling her down to sit beside him. As he expected, the sofa
swayed a bit.

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pulled his face
toward hers. “That’s better.”

Their lips met once again, and he pulled her closer—until the doorbell
rang.

She hesitated. “Should we get that?”

“Kiss me first,” he said. “Then I’ll get the door.” He pulled her back
in, trying to convince himself that she was the one he wanted, the woman he
could spend the rest of his life with.

She started talking right as their lips touched. “I don’t want them to
wake up your parents. I’m afraid I wore them out today.”

“Okay,” Destry said, standing up. He ran down the hall to the living
room, grabbed the bowl of candy off his dad’s lap, opened the door, and dumped
the entire bowl in the kid’s bag. “Happy Halloween!”

He shut the door and ran back to Mercedes. All he needed was a little
more time to feel that zing of attraction. He dove down onto the futon,
grabbing Mercedes at the same time. His weight must have been too much, though.
The sofa creaked and wobbled, leaning to its right. Destry reached for the side
arm, trying to steady it, but he was too late. It collapsed beneath them.

“Destry?” his mom’s voice called from down the hall. She sounded
hoarse, testament to how much she had enjoyed talking with Mercedes. “Destry?
Are you okay? I heard a crash.”

He lay on the floor with Mercedes giggling soundlessly on top of him. “I’m
fine,” he called.

“We saved your dinner for you. I’ll put it in the microwave.”

“That sounds great,” he yelled,
covering Mercedes’s ear with his hand.

Mercedes lifted herself onto her
hands and knees. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she whispered.

He rolled to his side and nodded. “Are
you?”

“I’ve never been better.” She stood
up, surveying the broken furniture and shaking her head. “Do you think we can
fix this?”

He lifted himself up onto his
elbow. “I’ll figure something out.” It might be best if he just bought a
replacement. He could pull the futon onto the floor for tonight.

Mercedes dusted herself off and
then opened the door. “I’d better go help your mom in the kitchen. She’s a
great cook. I’m learning so much from her.”

So much for the kiss. Destry
changed out of his work clothes and into some jeans, making sure to transfer
the tickets he had bought earlier to his pockets.

He ambled out to the kitchen, where
his Mom and Dad sat at the table with Mercedes. A generous helping of chicken
pot pie sat at his place, and his stomach growled at the sight.

“Dig in,” his dad instructed. “We
said grace earlier.”

Destry obeyed, slipping a warm
forkful into his mouth. The taste of rich cream and homemade goodness met his
tongue. He had missed this.

 “We had such a fun time today with
Mercedes,” his mom said. “I’m so glad you two found each other.”

Destry nodded as he swallowed. “Me
too.” He took another bite.

His mom reached across the table to
pat Mercedes’s hand. “I was so surprised when he told me he was in love. He’s
never said anything like that about the women he’s dated before, but now that I’ve
met you, I can see why.”

Destry froze. What was his mom
talking about? He had never told her he was in love with Mercedes. A grateful
smile spread over Mercedes’s face as it dawned on him—his mom was remembering
what he had said about Rosie. Not that he didn’t feel something for Mercedes
that couldn’t grow into love. He had never wanted to love someone as much as he
wanted to love her.

He hurried to chew the chunk of
chicken before his mother could say anything else.

His dad chuckled. “I’ll say one
thing for Destry, he knows how to get things done. When he said he was in love
with a woman who was engaged, we expected it would take him a few more months
to win you over.”

Destry reddened, remembering the
phone call on the day he had taken Mr. Curtis to the cemetery, the day he
kissed Rosie. That was when he had said he was in love with an engaged woman.
He glanced into Mercedes’s wide, devastated eyes. What could he say to make her
feel better?

He fumbled for words. “I think you
must have misunderstood something I said, Dad. What I meant was that Mercedes
was still hurting from her last relationship.” Somehow, he managed to keep his
voice steady. Now, if he could just keep his knee from bouncing up and down
under the table.

Mercedes looked away, and Destry
was sure she had figured him out. She wasn’t stupid. She glanced from him to
his dad. “How long ago was this?”

“Let’s see.” His dad tilted his
head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’d say it’s been six or seven weeks.”

That was it. Destry had to get her
out of here. He took the tickets from his pocket and slid them across the table
toward her. “I called in some favors and got us tickets to the Halloween ghost
tour. It starts in an hour.”

Mercedes wrinkled her nose. “A
ghost tour?”

“Oh, I’ve heard that’s fun,” his
mom said. “They start at a graveyard and go through all the old places, telling
ghost stories. They say Philadelphia is America’s most haunted city.”

Mercedes shivered. “I hate
graveyards.”

Maybe it hadn’t been such a good
idea to surprise her with a ghost tour. “Would you rather go to a masquerade
ball?”

She clutched the front of her
sweater. “Anything but a ghost tour. I hate graveyards.” But Destry wondered if
it was more than that. She was upset and possibly even lashing out. He’d never
argued with her before. Was she the type to throw a tantrum or give him the
cold shoulder? It made him realize that he didn’t know her well at all. How
could he possibly consider a serious relationship with her at this point?

He passed the tickets to his mom. “Would
you and Dad like to go?”

His mom looked to his dad, who
checked his watch. “Good thing I took that nap.”

His mom grinned, clapping her hands
together. “We’d love to. Thanks, Destry.” She kissed his cheek as she left the
table. “I better go get dressed.”

At least Destry had made one woman
happy tonight. Two months ago, he wouldn’t have believed he could be back home,
visiting so easily with his mother, but Rosie’s art had helped break down the
barriers between them. It had also helped when he told his mom he was in love.
Like most women, she was a sucker for romance. He just wished she hadn’t
mentioned it to Mercedes.

Once his parents left the kitchen,
he took another few bites of chicken pot pie. Mercedes wrote something on her
phone. It didn’t seem likely she had already forgotten what his dad said about
him being in love with an engaged woman.

 “Are you upset?” he asked.

“No.” She clipped the word off
short, but her tone was cheerful. It could mean she was fine, or it could mean
she was livid.

He ate the rest of his pot pie
while Mercedes fixated on her phone, paging through recipes.

He made another try. “Should I get
us tickets to the masquerade ball?”

She shrugged, still staring into
her phone. “Funny how you never told
me
you loved me.”

Destry had always believed in honesty, but he had to stay on guard, so
he wouldn’t hurt her. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his trip with a woman
holding a grudge. “I guess you’ve already figured out I was talking about
someone else. That was before we started going out. I had already written her
off by the time you and I got together.”

They sat in silence for a minute,
Mercedes paging through images on her phone. His parents came in to say goodbye
before they walked out the side door to the garage, taking Mercedes’s smile
with them. After their car left and the garage door closed, the sound of the
grandfather clock was all that broke the silence—tock, tock, tock.

Finally, Mercedes spoke. “Would you
have brought me out here if you’d known Rosie was going to break up with
Tanner?”