Dress Me in Wildflowers (17 page)

She laughed and was tempted to see just what his invention produced, but there would be nothing between the two of them and she didn’t want him thinking there would be. And he’d at least entertained the thought.

“Thanks, but I need to get back. I have sketches to fax to my office and need to start work on some more.”

“Who knew the world needed so many dresses?”

A memory of that long-ago prom dress flashed in her mind, and she swallowed against old pain.

“Feel free to start on the gardens whenever your schedule allows. Thanks for the tour.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime.” He sounded like he truly meant that.

She stepped off the tiny porch and headed back through the warren of pathways, glad Drew didn’t follow her. This was one of those moments when the past seemed like only yesterday and she desperately needed to be alone.

As she left Drew’s property and followed Riverview Road to the point it connected with Highway 7 that led to town, she successfully pushed out the memories by focusing on her plans for the inn and the work waiting for her in the guestroom at Faye’s. When she reached the stop sign at the end of Riverview, however, she didn’t make the turn. The past assaulted her as she sat in the encroaching dark.

****

Farrin, sixteen and daydreaming, slid her fingertips over the magazine pages, caressing the photograph as if she could feel the red and white satin. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in that dress, her long dark hair swept up following a luxurious afternoon at a salon with a French name. So what if the closest Oak Valley had was Dawn’s Cut and Curl? This was her fantasy, and she could populate it with whatever she liked.

And she liked the image of the new Farrin dancing with Drew Murphy. Sure, she’d had crushes on other boys — Eric Brenaman, Josh Overby, Kevin Miller — but none lasted. Her interest always returned to Drew.

She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly, she saw shooting bursts of white light. If she just wished hard enough, maybe the dress would materialize. Maybe Drew would be daring and notice her, ask her to the prom. Maybe—

Farrin jerked. Reality returned in the form of the macaroni and cheese boiling over. She turned down the heat under the pot and glanced at the clock. Her mother should be home any minute, and after feeding nearly four hundred students in the school cafeteria and then waiting tables at The City Cafe, the last thing Doris Taylor wanted to do was cook. The at-home cooking had fallen to Farrin when she was nine. And here she stood eight years and innumerable boxes of mac and cheese later, still not able to imagine hard enough to make her dreams come true.

One last look at the beautiful dress in the magazine sent a pang bumping into her heart. She hated feeling sorry for herself, but sometimes you ached for something so much you couldn’t stop. Just once, she’d like to know what it felt like to have boys think she was pretty, ask her to dance.

Farrin shook her head. Enough dreaming. She had work to do — finishing dinner, cleaning the kitchen, and then her pile of homework.

At the sound of gravel and the familiar rumble of her mother’s coughing car, Farrin set the table with the mac and cheese, bread, and pork chops her mother had found on sale because of their impending expiration date. But instead of her mother coming in and collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs as she normally did, Doris entered carrying a plastic bag.

“I have something for you,” she said as she held out the bag to Farrin.

“What is it?”

“Look inside.”

Both curious and nervous, Farrin took the bag and was glad it didn’t wiggle. Nothing alive, thank goodness. One never knew with her mother. She’d once brought home a baby opossum who’d evidently lost his mother. Binky had stayed with them until he was old enough to live on his own and then promptly gotten his cross-eyed self squashed on the highway. Her mother had wailed for half a day after finding him.

“Go on. It isn’t going to bite,” Doris said.

Farrin’s mind clicked through possibilities, but none matched the reality when she slipped the contents out of the bag to find a red satin dress with short, poofy, off-the-shoulder sleeves. Her heart drummed as she held it up and let the length unfurl.

“Where did you get this?” Farrin asked.

“Mothers get to keep some secrets, you know. Do you like it?”

Farrin’s eyes threatened to water. “Yes.”

“You’ve about worn out that prom magazine from last year. Thought maybe you’d like to have something besides pictures.”

“Thank you.”

Part of her wanted to run into her mother’s arms and hug her, but embarrassment prevented that impulse. Things had been simpler when she was younger, when hugging her mother had been common. But the intervening years had magnified the consequences of every action, especially showing affection for parents. That her classmates teased her about her mother being one of the lunch ladies only made things worse. Sure, they were alone now, but she’d formed the habit of distance and found it difficult to break.

“Try it on,” her mother said.

Farrin ran to her room and couldn’t get her worn jeans and sweatshirt off fast enough. When the smooth satin settled on her skin, she closed her eyes and sighed, afraid to hope. Maybe this time, she had imagined hard enough.

****

Farrin pushed herself, continuing to climb the trail even when the muscles in her thighs and calves screamed for mercy. By the time she and Tammie were halfway up the three-mile trail, they were huffing and puffing so much conversation was impossible. That was okay with Farrin. She basked in the clomp of her borrowed hiking boots, the breeze rustling the leaves and sending some of them sailing through the air, and the sweet songs of birds she hadn’t heard in years. Several yards behind her, Tammie occasionally exhaled a grunt.

“You headed to a fire or something?” Tammie managed to say between deep inhalations.

“I’m afraid if I stop or slow down, I won’t get going again.”

“I could just roll you down the trail.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

Her explanation for pushing up the trail at the current speed was the truth, but only partially. She hadn’t hiked in a while, and despite trips to the gym she wasn’t in hiking shape. But the climb also moved her farther away from the memories that had brought tears to her eyes the night before. She had no idea how long she’d sat at the stop sign drowning in 1997, but it had taken a honk from a vehicle behind her to pull her back to the present.

The headache that had accompanied her back to town had also followed her to bed. Thankfully, it had been just a normal, everyday headache and not a debilitating migraine. And though she’d suffered the residual effects that morning with her coffee, it’d begun to subside when her boots hit the trail.

Only when the overlook at the end of the trail came into sight did Farrin slow her pace. She reached the fence placed at the edge of the cliff to warn hikers about the drop below and sucked in great gulps of air. Her lungs cursed her for making them work so hard. Didn’t she know they were used to more civilized breathing?

By the time Tammie, hampered by shorter legs, reached her, Farrin had her own breathing under control.

“It’s even more beautiful than I remembered,” Farrin said. The expanse of the tree-rich valley from which her hometown derived its name spread out in red and gold waves. She felt almost as if she could dive into it and swim through those vibrant colors.

“We finally had the right amount of rain this year to make the fall colors pretty. Last year, it was so dry and hot, they just shriveled up and turned brown. Year before, it rained so much you couldn’t even see the mountains for all the fog.”

“You know, I’ve traveled through New England in the fall and it’s stunning, but there’s just something about this spot.”“Can’t beat a gorgeous view and good memories.”

Farrin tore her gaze away from the valley to look at Tammie. “I guess you’re right.”

“So, you going to tell me what happened last night?”

“When?”

“Before you came back to the house. You looked like you’d been crying. Did you let Janie get to you?”

Farrin walked over to a large boulder and scrambled to the top of it to sit. The sun had baked it, and she allowed the delicious warmth to soak into her throbbing legs.

“Not the present-day Janie, no.”

Tammie perched on another boulder, looking like a psychologist waiting for her client to spill her deepest secrets. “Did something happen?”

Farrin glanced out at the ridges. “I went out to look at Drew’s gardens because he’s going to be working on the ones at the inn.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why, but I started thinking about prom night.”

“It was bound to come up at some point.”

“I didn’t say anything. Neither did he. I’d seen enough to know he’s a talented landscaper, so I left.”

“He didn’t say anything?”

“Not about that. We were just talking about my business, and all of a sudden I had this sharp image of my prom dress. And I swear, I heard Janie’s voice as clearly as if she was sitting beside me.”

“I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to hire her. Maybe you should find someone else.”

“I’ll be gone soon.”

“Avoidance doesn’t solve the problem.”

Part of her found cutting Janie loose very attractive, but what were the chances of Janie finding another job? And it was only temporary.

“I’m responsible for her losing her job. And she’s got two kids to support on her own. It was hard enough for my mom with just me.”

“They’re hardly the same person. Janie has much more in the way of resources.”

“She’s smarter, has an education, yes. But if her father fired her, do you honestly think he’d give her money?”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. She’s done it before, and I can’t help thinking she’s taking advantage of you.”

“I’m wiser than I used to be. I don’t need Janie Carlisle’s seal of approval.”

“That’s good.”

Farrin ignored the edge of doubt in Tammie’s words. Some memories might still stir deep pain, but she was confident in her reason for helping Janie. It was the right thing to do and she needed the help, nothing more. They weren’t about to become best friends or anything.

“Wasn’t Drew’s place amazing?” Tammie asked. “He’s probably done more, but I saw it in the spring during the garden tour.”

“It’s beautiful. I have to say that even after seeing your mom’s back yard, I was stunned.”

“Football player turned green thumb. I think Drew might give you a run for you money in the category of person who’s changed most since high school.”

“He is a lot different. I can’t imagine him talking about wildflowers with his football buddies.”

“Probably not. High school blows that way. Nobody feels like they can be who they really are.”

“So, any more ideas about your plans to expand?” Farrin asked. Despite her assertions that Drew didn’t affect her, she found it uncomfortable talking about him with Tammie. Maybe it was because they’d talked about him so much as teens. It embarrassed her how hopelessly she’d desired him — not in a sexual way but just to hold his hand, to have him smile at her. How pathetic she’d been.

Farrin pushed Drew from her mind and focused as Tammie talked about how she just couldn’t find the right location for her second store. “Nothing feels right. I love the place I have now.”

The Sweet Tooth did have that old-time bakery feel to it. The historic downtown building had once been a general store, and Tammie had used the glass display cases, yellow poplar floors and pressed tin ceiling to perfect effect.

Farrin raised her face to a gentle breeze and looked down at the distant rooftops of Oak Valley. Maybe they called this spot Inspiration Point for a reason. “What if you expanded out of Knoxville, to appeal to new clientele?”

“You mean like Nashville or Chattanooga?”

“No, I was thinking smaller.” She faced Tammie. “The inn might be a more attractive to a buyer if it contained thriving businesses.”

“You want me to set up shop in Oak Valley?”

“Maybe. Where do people here get their special bakery items, wedding cakes and such?”

“Johnson City, I guess, or they make it themselves.”

A surge of excitement propelled Farrin off the rock. She paced, much as she did when she conducted business on the phone. “The building has a historic feel like your main store, and if one person moves in, maybe others will give it a try.”

“Have you seen the downtown? I’ll go broke.”

“Not if you start small. It might be good to initially expand in small ways. You don’t want to try too much at once and overextend.”

Tammie looked toward the town and chewed her bottom lip.

“Listen, you don’t have to decide today. It’ll be a while before the building is ready for occupants anyway.”

“It’s so far away from the other store.”

“But your mom would probably get a kick out of running things. After all, she’s an awesome cook. And I bet she knows lots of women who are excellent bakers as well.”