Authors: Tammy L. Gray
CHAPTER 12
A
sher stepped out onto his back deck and studied his workmanship. The stain he’d sprayed on the railings that morning had soaked in nicely. Tomorrow he’d do one more coat and then finally place the order for the outdoor furniture set he’d had bookmarked on his computer for over a year.
Only a hint of sadness came now when he thought of Jillian. She had helped him choose each piece. They’d daydreamed of a wedding outdoors. Imagined kids running along the grass in their bare feet. It was a dream he’d held on to for way too long.
“You finished.” Katie bounced up the steps and then spun around while staring at the wood slats. “Great color choice.”
Asher had gone with a dark mahogany stain to match the trim around the house’s windows.
“Thanks. How about you? That dining room finally cleared?”
“Almost.” She pulled out her phone, glanced at the screen, and slid it back into her pocket. “I have six more boxes to go through, and then I’ll have to figure out a way to organize the stuff we kept so my mom can sell it.”
He opened up two folding chairs and dropped into one of them. Since he’d helped her move the couch, she’d come over twice, both times after her parents had gone to sleep. She’d ask to be put to work, but in the end they’d spent more time talking than being productive. Their conversations never went too deep, but what they did talk about lingered long after she’d left for the night.
Asher stared beyond the trees. The sky had dulled into a gray blue, and soon reds and oranges would split the clouds, unencumbered by artificial lights. His favorite thing about living in the country.
“Is your mom still badgering you about the work space?” He motioned for Katie to sit, but she paced the perimeter of the deck instead.
He’d wanted to show Katie this beautiful phenomenon from his back porch, wanted to ask her opinion on the furniture. He’d even wanted to tell her just how much her friendship mattered. But something stopped him. Tonight felt different. Her entire countenance was off.
“You okay?”
She checked her phone again. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I was just supposed to meet someone and I didn’t go.” She strolled over to him and sat as if she was forcing herself to. Her knee bounced and her heel tapped the metal leg of the chair.
“Why didn’t you go?” He didn’t know if that was crossing some imaginary line they’d drawn, but he pressed anyway.
Katie shot to her feet and found a stretch of woodwork to admire. “I didn’t want to.”
“That’s a fair reason, I guess. Who were you supposed to meet?”
She glanced at him but didn’t answer his question. “Why did you come back to Fairfield? You got out. You went off to college. Nobody ever comes back here after they go away to school.”
Asher rose to his feet. He hated sitting while she stood. He hated everything about their interaction tonight. She was edgy and distracted. “I grew up here. I wanted my kids to grow up here.” He crossed the deck, leaned a hip against the rail, and studied her. It wasn’t just the scattered thoughts or skittishness. She looked lost, defeated, tired. He should comfort her, wrap her up and chase the sadness away, but that wasn’t their relationship. So he just stood there, next to her, hoping his proximity was enough. “What happened today?”
She hung her head. “I swore I’d never come back here.”
“Famous last words. Seems like God always changes the game when we do that.”
She covered her face with both hands. “I can’t do this. I can’t be different and be in this town. There are too many ghosts. Too many memories. Too many people I’ve hurt.”
The earlier pain in his chest returned. Two years ago he wouldn’t have understood, but now he did. The church, Jillian, his own failures. It had all ripped apart the fabric of his plan. “I wish I could offer you some advice, but I don’t have any.”
Katie lowered her hands. “You say that like you’ve been there.”
“I’m living it.” He scanned the yard and the thick surrounding woods, not offering more. He wasn’t sure he was ready to blur the lines around . . . well, whatever they were doing. But, he also refused to pretend anymore. A year with Jillian had cured him of that particular ailment.
The first hint of pink shot out in rays from the thinning clouds.
Katie didn’t pry, like he had. She just watched the sun dip lower in the sky. When the ball of orange had disappeared beyond the horizon, she pointed to one of the fence posts.
“Is this your next project?”
He sensed disappointment behind her question. “Nah. I’m gonna wait. I still have to build some benches and the countertops around my grill. I want the outdoor kitchen done before we start hitting three digits.”
Katie pushed off from the railing and walked toward the side of the deck where the kitchen equipment and countertop would go. He’d built out areas for the mini fridge, a stainless sink, and the industrial-sized grill he planned to install. Right now, though, the wood framing had more holes than appliances.
“Where did you learn how to build this stuff? Your dad?”
Asher’s snort made him feel a little guilty. His father really did try. “No, my dad should never be given a power tool. See those three posts over there?” He pointed to the area his father had helped with. The posts all leaned several degrees to the left, and while it wouldn’t ruin the fence line, it would forever bug him. “He was supposed to use a level after pouring the concrete. He eyeballed it instead. My dad is gifted with big-picture vision, but the minute details? Well, they tend to annoy him.”
Katie grinned and tilted her head to study the posts. Even in shorts, a faded T-shirt, and hair that encircled her head like a mane, she had a presence. An aura, almost, that in one sense screamed
back off
and in another begged to be rescued.
“It’s still weird for me to think of Pastor Powell as having flaws. My whole life he’s been this beacon for goodness. Even people who hate religion seem to respect your dad.”
He cleared his throat. Her comment had slipped under his skin, even though he doubted that was her intention. “There are no perfect people, Katie. Just some who try harder than others to do the right thing.”
She circled back to him and stopped a foot away. “And what is ‘the right thing’?” She made furious quotation marks in the air, her hands trembling.
“What do you mean?”
Her entire demeanor had changed. Or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe all that pacing and fidgeting had simply distracted him from the blaze of exasperation in her eyes.
“How does one define ‘right’ when everyone is raised with a different standard? ’Cause I’m trying to do the right thing. And yet I keep hitting this wall. So maybe I don’t know what the right thing is. Maybe because I didn’t get the memo early, like you, I’m doomed. Trapped by a lifetime of making choices I can’t take back.”
The accusation filled the void between them, heightening his senses, and wrapped chains of defensiveness around their standoff. This was the battle he’d always fought. This idea that being a pastor’s kid made him immune to sin.
He laid hands on her shoulders and resisted the urge to shake her. “You’re not being fair. I struggle just like you do. I face the worst parts of myself every day.” His voice felt full of gravel, and a rising ache brought with it every failure. “Growing up in church doesn’t give me a magic cloak that protects me from mistakes. I make them all the time.”
Katie blinked as if he had pulled her out of a haze, then returned her focus to the west, where the sun had long ago disappeared. A break from the tension. Or maybe just from him.
He dropped his hands and rubbed one over his face, wishing the motion would ease his frustration. If this was where a friendship with her would take him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Despite everything, all they’d shared, she still saw him as a stereotype.
“We may be from different worlds, Katie, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have things I wish I could take back. It doesn’t mean I’m without my own share of demons.”
Her head dropped and her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you. I’m just so tired. I’m so incredibly tired, I don’t even know what it feels like not to want to run away.”
He thought of the months he’d spent hiding. Spent licking the wounds inflicted by people he’d trusted. But none of it had helped; it just made returning so much harder.
He backed away from her, feeling an alarming urge to pull her into his arms. He wanted her to understand, to know that sometimes life is a hard-fought battle, no matter what weapons you’ve been given. “A little over ten months ago, my life shattered. And even with my faith and my family supporting me, I haven’t been able to get past the hurt. Sometimes it’s worse when you know what to do. When you know that you have all the power inside you to experience peace, and yet still feel nothing but shame.”
“But what if you didn’t feel anything at all? Wouldn’t that be better? What if you could simply pack away the past and focus only on what’s ahead?” Her wistful eyes seemed to beg for a yes.
But he wouldn’t lie to her. “Nobody can do that long term.”
“I can.” The words seemed to drop on the ground in front of them, and she watched them as if they’d exposed her soul. “I have to.”
“Do you?”
She finally stopped staring at those words, but even when she looked at him, he couldn’t find the woman he knew in that face. She’d retreated, closed herself off.
Asher dared to touch her, just a slight brush of his fingertips against her skin. “I know you think hiding is your best option. But trust me, you have to feel something in order to heal. Ignoring pain only makes it worse.”
CHAPTER 13
I
’m not getting rid of any of those, so just stop pushing.”
Katie rubbed her throbbing head. “Mom, you have six more boxes of costume jewelry in my room. I’d like to actually unpack my duffel bag at some point.” Right now, she couldn’t even get to the dresser to start cleaning it out.
“I paid good money for this stuff.”
“And you’ll never make any of it back until I can sort through it and find what’s valuable.” They sat on the porch despite the hot breeze. Katie had carried out a couple of dining chairs, making sure to bring one with armrests for her mother to lower herself into. There was a ceiling fan erratically spinning from the gable, and outdoor furniture pushed off to their left, but the aluminum chairs had long ago been rendered useless by flowerpots, piles of water hoses, and bags of seed and soil that were leaking out of their containers and onto the cushions and concrete.
Her mom picked through each of the boxes, alternately grabbing a handful of mangled necklaces and then dropping them. She’d attempt to detangle a few until her trembling fingers forced her to give up with a curse. This was her mother’s typical reaction when her body didn’t obey her mind.
The side effects of the medicine had eased off a little, but the symptoms were getting worse. Two days ago, her mom’s vision had blurred so badly, her dad was forced to call her doctor. He said the flare-up was normal and caused by an inflammation in her nervous system. He assured them that the attack would eventually subside. The night before, her vision had returned to normal, to the relief of all three of them. Permanent blindness was still a real possibility, and her mother’s greatest fear.
Even more reason for Katie to get the house in working order.
“Why don’t you go check on your listings? That way I can take a trip to the post office and Goodwill at the same time.”
Her mom would never say so, but she’d been noticeably happier since they’d created the work space downstairs. Aluminum cases lined the walls of the old dining room and were filled with inventory to sell. Katie had given her labels for tagging items once they were listed on eBay. The process was slow, but her mom had emptied two full shelves. A victory both of them needed.
“Don’t patronize me. I’m not a kid who needs a task thrust at her. And I don’t want this stuff going to Goodwill. There’s a new shopping center out toward your dad’s factory. The right end has a thrift store that sends all the proceeds to help pregnant women who don’t have support. If we’re giving this stuff away, I want it to at least go to them.”
Warmth seeped into Katie’s chest. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“Don’t be so surprised.” Her mother’s lips hardened into a line. “Your fancy new church friends aren’t the only ones who help people.”
Once. She’d gone to Fellowship that one time only, yet her parents had been relentless with their comments. “I never thought they were.”
“Well, the way you’re fawning all over that Powell boy says otherwise. You can give up whatever fantasies you have. I’ve seen his type. She was tall, blonde, innocent as a daisy, and practically wore a halo.” She eyed Katie up and down. “We both know you ain’t seen a halo since your third birthday.”
“Thanks for the reminder. But Asher and I are just friends.” Although a stirring in her gut argued this point.
It wasn’t jealousy. No, it was deeper. He’d become a lifeline of sorts. Her place to fall when all her strength had dried up. He kept her focused, grounded, and encouraged. Kept her from losing her mind while she waited to see if Cooper would follow through on his threats. It’d been five days since she stood him up, and there’d been no sign of retaliation.
“Friends, huh? I guess I shouldn’t worry about him sticking around, then. We both know how well you treat the people you supposedly care about.”
“Don’t.” She’d warned her mom not to ask about Laila. Told her flat out that if she did, she would leave and never come back.
“I’m not. That’s your own guilty conscience tugging at your strings.” Her mom slowly rose to her feet, her face dotted with sweat. She could only bear the heat for so long. The fatigue was bad enough on its own. But on days when she came outside, it seemed to hit with even more ferocity. “I’ll check the sales and print out what needs shipping.”
Good riddance.
Working the tension from her shoulders with one hand, Katie stretched her neck and waited for the sick churning in her stomach to subside. Asher’s advice continued to buzz in her ear, but she wasn’t ready to open herself up to more pain. She wanted to pack things away. Keep the good. Trash the bad.
It didn’t take long to calm herself. She was a pro at pushing aside emotions. She’d been taught by two of the best.
Katie moved the boxes out to her three tarps: one for selling, one for giveaway, and one for the dump, because broken items always seemed to end up in each box.
The sun blazed overhead, sending ribbons of sweat down her neck. She twisted her hair into a high bun. It was only May, and it was already miserable outside. Rumor had it they were in for a record-breaking summer in Georgia.
Great. Just great.
The air conditioner barely kept the house below eighty.
She’d never understand how her father had let things get so bad. It was as if he put on blinders every time he walked through the front door. All the sinks were leaking—the one in the master bathroom so badly, Katie had to bleach away the mold. Worse, since the couch incident, she’d lost any influence over him, getting only an “I’ll take care it” response every time she mentioned a repair. Yet in two weeks, he hadn’t taken care of one single thing.
One task at a time.
She examined a handful of necklaces. All but two were cheap and belonged on the giveaway tarp. She found matching earrings for one set and a “gold” bracelet that would probably turn someone’s arm green.
Halfway through the second container, her heart fluttered. A jewelry box. She quickly pulled it free of the tangle of chains, her pulse beating wildly when she confirmed it was real. She touched every centimeter of the ornate pewter trinket. It was a rectangle, with decorated Queen Anne feet, just like the one she’d held that night. Hope rose up within her. Maybe this was her miracle.
Her hands shook as she lifted the lid.
Maybe . . .
An empty red velvet liner. No ring.
A clanking sound and subsequent thud broke Katie out of her free-fall of emotions. Asher stood across the tarp, a long cloth bag at his feet.
“That’s pretty,” he said with a smile she was starting to crave. “You were stroking it like a genie’s lamp. Any chance we’ll get three wishes?”
“No. Unfortunately not.” Katie quickly lowered the jewelry box to the “keep” tarp and stood. “What’s up?”
“Well, I saw you from my nice cool office and decided you needed some shade. It’s supposed to hit ninety today.” He crouched next to the bag and unzipped it. “We use these for picnics at the church. Cuts the heat significantly.”
Asher pulled out a portable shelter and began to set it up on the ground. He was dressed the same as he always was during the week. Tennis shoes, gym shorts, and a white T-shirt he sometimes covered with a button-up if he had an online meeting.
“Thank you for doing this.” She didn’t add that no one had ever been so considerate to her, or that she’d already sweated through two shirts. “I really appreciate it.”
“Here. Take this end and walk backward. Watch your fingers; the top slides up.”
She walked around the tarp and took the end he offered. Seconds later, they were extending poles and positioning the tent over her work space.
“Just hold it steady while I put the stakes in.”
Katie kept her post and watched as Asher pounded metal rods into the ground. His muscles tightened with each strike, and she found herself mesmerized by the movement. So much so that Asher had to repeat himself twice when he told her to come around to his side.
Her cheeks flared. “Sorry.”
Asher pounded until the next stake was in the ground. “You weren’t at church Sunday.”
A wave of tension washed through her. She’d felt guilty all day about not going, yet couldn’t make herself do it. “You noticed?”
“Of course I noticed. You’re one of the few reasons I went. I couldn’t have you tearing out during another one of Dad’s sermons. You might give him a complex.”
Katie knew he was teasing, but she still sensed an underlying disappointment. They’d spent enough time together that she was beginning to detect his actual mood, buried under the one he worked to portray.
She considered making excuses. Telling him she’d been too busy, or was needed at home. But the truth was, she lacked the courage to go back.
“I wasn’t quite ready to try again.”
“I understand,” he said, and went back to his hammering.
Once the shelter was in place, the temperature beneath it felt ten degrees cooler. Katie pulled her shirt away from her body, in and out, creating a breeze along her damp skin. “I owe you big-time. Wow.”
He chuckled. “Nah. It felt wrong to watch you sweat while I sipped iced tea and played on my computer.”
“Play? Somehow, I doubt that’s what you’re doing.” He ran some kind of complicated computer system that went over her head every time he tried to explain it. She put her hands on her hips. “In fact, all I’ve seen you do is work.”
“I enjoy my job and love fixing up the house. My work is my hobby.” He shrugged. “It’s the perfect life.”
She didn’t believe him. Not when every stroke, hammer, or brush over his outdoor kitchen seemed to her like a therapy session. She would bet that he used construction the way she used organizing, as an escape.
Unfortunately, her “escape” was beginning to feel stifling. “We should get you out. Go do something fun.” Her offer wasn’t just for his benefit. She needed a night away from her parents. They’d all been one step from igniting a bomb all week.
“Fun, huh? What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. What do sober people do around here?”
“Well, there’s bowling.”
“No.” Just the thought made her cringe.
“Feller’s Gym has a climbing wall that’s pretty sweet.”
Katie’s mouth twitched sarcastically. “Any idea that doesn’t involve strenuous activity or ugly shoes?”
His laugh confirmed he was messing with her. “Personally, I love the drive-in. It’s one of the last working outdoor theaters in the nation.”
“Sold. How does Friday sound?”
He tilted his head and she made the grave mistake of looking at his mouth, the shape of his lips, the straight line of his teeth. He said something, but she forgot to listen to his answer.
“I’m sorry.” She shook herself out of her daze for the second time. “What did you say?”
His smile was indulgent. “I said Friday sounds perfect.”
Katie told herself this wasn’t a date. They were just two friends who were planning to go see a movie together. Yet the pounding of her heart made the lie nearly impossible to believe. She felt a rush. A high she recognized and still often craved.
She was getting too used to Asher being around. Too dependent on him. And that never led to anything good.
He’s not like the other ones,
she told herself. He wasn’t the type of man to yell or punch or throw things. He was calm, steady, kind.
And above everything else, he made her believe in second chances.