5. Tessa
5
Tessa
I wake the next morning to slamming doors and a flurry of activity. The fair. I forgot. What I didn’t forget is Beau asking me, no , telling me I should go with him.
A door downstairs swings shut and it rips me from my thoughts. Mama is the head of every committee in this town and on event days, I’ve often woken up like this. Hurrying to get dressed, I tip-toe out into the hall to look over the banister. People are running back and forth carrying boxes and trays and I can hear her downstairs giving orders. I have to get out. If she knows I’m up, she’ll set me to some endless chore and I’ll never have time to think of an excuse for Beau.
I run back to my room and close the door quietly. After a little mascara and my shoes, I’m ready. At the window, I sweep my hair into a high ponytail and push the curtains aside to make sure it’s clear. It’s not hard to go out this way, I’ve done it before. The only problem is the squeaky window. It has an unmistakable sound and Mama will immediately recognize it. The window is already up a tiny bit to let in the breeze, but when I push it up slowly, it groans the whole time.
I don’t move for a couple seconds, listening to see if anyone heard. But when none of the noise downstairs stops, I don’t either. A childhood spent as a tomboy pays off, because even in a dress, I can quickly shimmy down the tree outside my window. Once my feet touch the ground, I take off down the back path.
I’m just walking for the sake of walking. Lost in my thoughts and letting my feet carry me, I realize I’ve come straight into town. The decision has been made for me, then. Coffee shop it is. When I’m here, surrounded by shops and people running early-morning errands, I can almost forget how quaint the place is. There are already cars parked up and down Magnolia, the street that runs through the center of town, but they don’t take away from how pretty Pelahatchie is in the summer.
Everything has a vintage sort of feel, exactly what you’d find if you googled a picture of small-town America, but the town center has grown a lot in the last few years. I can’t help but feel a small amount of pride. My family has a lot to do with the restoration. Stores and businesses branch out from the center in a loose wagon-wheel of streets, with everything from a diner and café to specialty shops and a brewery with an outdoor stage for live music.
It was a nice place to miss in college, when I’d feel the occasional twinge of homesickness. But being here now feels a lot more like a stepping stone than a soft place to land. I’m ready to see it in the rear view. It’s going to be a long summer.
On my way to the coffee shop, I pass Mama’s gallery on the corner and glance in the window as I walk by. She’s a local artist and draws a pretty big crowd with her paintings. People come from all around to see her landscapes, but she rents space in the gallery to other local artists and there are a few people inside already looking around.
A man steps up beside my reflection in the window and I don’t immediately recognize that it’s Shep until I turn and look up at him. A soft smile lights up his face.
“I was on my way to your house. Hoping I’d get to see you.”
“Oh really?” I look back at our reflections. “And what errand are you running for Ella now?”
“That obvious, huh? Shouldn’t you be helping your mom? Is that why you’re here?”
“No, I snuck away before she could enlist me.”
“I see you and Beau had the same idea,” he says. “He’s gone, so I got sent to your house for the parking signs from last year. Does no one in this town have a phone? Mom keeps sending me off on errands like I’m ten years old. Perks of coming home.”
“Why do you do it?”
He pulls a face like I’ve said something stupid. “She's my mother.”
“And you’re such a good boy?” I say, talking to him like you would a puppy.
“No. She scares the shit out of me.” We both laugh because I know he’s telling the truth.
We face each other on the sidewalk. “I’m not heading back just yet, but she’s at the house.” I motion backwards, but he sticks his hands in his pockets.
“Me neither. Coffee?”
“Sure. I was headed that way.”
He changes direction and we cross the street, strolling past a drugstore, a wine shoppe, and the bank. I can see the sign for Carriage House Coffee up ahead and my stomach rumbles loudly. Shep raises an eyebrow.
“I didn’t have time for breakfast when I was shimmying out the window,” I huff.
“You really didn’t want to help if you climbed out a window.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Are you sure you have time for coffee?”
“For you, I do.”
My heart skips a little at the sentiment. Shep’s always been like this, sweet and unassuming. He puts on a stony face for almost everyone, but I know better. He’s five years older than Peyton, Beau, and me, but he’s never made me feel like an annoying little sister. Quite the opposite. I know he knows I used to have a huge crush on him, but he’s never made me feel embarrassed about it.
He holds the door to Carriage House and I’m hit with the delicious smell of roasting coffee beans as I walk in ahead of him. I stop to breathe it in and he laughs.
“Didn’t your mama tell you coffee stunts your growth?” It’s an old joke between us.
“Of course,” I say with my eyes still closed. “Why do you think I look like this?”
The old wives’ tale must be true because my blood is ninety percent coffee and I’m all of five-foot-two. I blame it on my grandmother, both for getting me hooked on the coffee we’d drink together at her house and for coming from a long line of tiny women. But small doesn’t mean meek, not where Jennings women are concerned.
My small stature has its perks though, because standing next to Shep, who’s so much taller in comparison, makes me feel taken care of. But maybe that’s just him. That and his broad hand on my lower back as he steers me towards the counter to order. We wait for our coffees and the pastry he forced me to get as we chat comfortably.
When we’re back out on the street, he looks down at me and asks, “You going to the fair tonight?”
“Yeah,” I say brightly. “You?”
“Yeah, there’s a girl I wanted to ask, but my brother beat me to it.”
My steps falter so I take a sip of my drink, hoping he doesn’t notice. “So he told you then?”
“Did you forget how close Beau and I are, Tessa?” My name is like a splash of cold water. Where everything was lighthearted moments before, I’m sensing something’s changed. “When he came back last night, he said he’d asked you. I told him I was going to do the same.”
My eyes flash up at him. Beau and I hadn’t done anything, but it takes nothing for a rumor to spread in Pelahatchie. Or for people to think I’m coming around to his charm, which is easily the worst thing for me. Shep notices the look of hesitation on my face.
“Don’t worry, no one knows he was at your house. But after the pond, when he went out, it wasn’t a stretch to think he was going to see you.”
I grimace. “I wish you hadn’t seen that.”
“Why?” He laughs easily. “It’s not like I haven’t caught him with other girls.”
The thought of Beau messing around with other girls isn’t something I’ve ever cared about, but I can’t help the kernel of disappointment that lodges itself in my chest. We continue walking past people going about their business or jogging the square, but the heat is setting in, both in the air and inside me.
“Ok, I really wish you hadn’t told me that. But this changes nothing, Shep. Beau and I aren’t friends.”
“Doesn’t it? You looked pretty friendly from what I saw.” He doesn’t even bother to hide the hint of jealousy in his tone.
“Well, we’re not. He just…caught me off guard. You know how Beau is, I can’t stand him.” I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Why are you even asking?”
His jealousy is confusing. I’m surprised he could see me as anything other than a friend, but he shrugs his shoulders at my question.
“I said I wanted to ask you, didn’t I? Why didn’t you tell him yes?”
“Because I don’t want to go with him.”
“Then go with me.”
What is it with men telling me what to do lately? This line of questioning is irritating. A few kisses don’t give Beau any claim on me, but Shep isn’t entitled to one either. I haven’t seen him at all since Easter, when he came home to visit. He lives in Texas and plays minor-league ball there. He actually got out of this town after college, unlike some of us, and I hope he makes it to the majors like he wants. But living in a different area code, with much better opportunities for dating, I doubt he’s even thought about me until now. Sure, we’re friends, but if he wanted to make a move, he would have.
“No, I couldn’t. I’m not going with anyone besides Peyton.” I’m flustered, but I shake my head and try to shake it off.
“Then let’s all go together. It’ll be like old times.”
“Sure, if you’re going anyway. I’ll see you there.”
An odd look crosses his face, but he nods before saying, “I’d better go get those signs.”
He walks back the way we came, when I call out his name. He looks back at me over his shoulder. “I’ll save you a dance.”
He gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and heads back down the street.
When I get home, thankfully the ear-full I knew was coming is kept to a minimum because Mama still has so much to do. It’s a promise of “we’ll discuss this later, young lady.” It’s not that I don’t want to help, there’s just so much going on in my brain after yesterday with Beau and this new encounter with Shep. I feel like the world is off its axis or something and I can’t get a grip. I don’t know how to feel about either of them and now I’m anxious about an event I look forward to every year.
When I pass the dining room later on my way upstairs, Mama calls out to me. “Out with it. What’s got you sulking?”
I lean on the door frame and watch her packing a box full of tonight’s trophies. She has on her summer uniform, a soft chambray shirt with paint smears down the arms and white shorts. The only thing that changes is the silk scarf she has tied in her dark hair. She’s stylish no matter what she wears. The perfect mix of unkempt and put-together. Southern artist to her core.
“I’m not sulking,” I tell her, walking into the room and crossing my arms.
“Something’s on your mind and I’ll bet it has to do with a boy.”
I shoot her a look, but try to keep my posture neutral, not giving anything away. “Why would you say that?”
“Just something Ella may have mentioned.”
Beau’s mother, Ella McAbee, has been my mom’s best friend since they were little. She’s like an aunt to me and one of the main reasons I think Beau goes along with the idea that we belong together. It’s her and Mama’s greatest wish that we get married and live in Pelahatchie for the rest of our lives, popping out grandchildren for them every few years. I’ve told them both it’s a pipe dream, but they have yet to really hear me.
“What did she say?” I ask.
“That she overheard them talking in Shep’s room last night about which one would ask you to the fair.” She raises an elegant eyebrow and purses her lips, trying to hold back a smile.
I groan, not wanting to get into it. “Before you get too far ahead of yourself, I told them both no.”
“So Shep asked too?” She says with a tone of surprise.
I nod. “This morning when I took a walk.”
“When you were avoiding me,” she states. She’s not angry, but guilt fills my stomach anyway. Sighing loudly, I sit and bury my head in my arms. She keeps working with the trophies, wrapping them in paper before stuffing them into a cardboard box.
“So this is about a boy,” she muses out loud. “The question is just which one. I knew you’d tell Beau no, but you really turned down Shep too?”
I mumble out my reasons, not lifting my head so I don’t have to look her in the eye, but she stops me. “I can’t hear you. Sit up straight.”
I make a frustrated noise and make a show of sitting up unwillingly. “ I said Beau asked me last night and I didn’t exactly s ay no, I just didn’t give him an answer. Shep asked this morning, knowing Beau had already asked, and it seemed wrong to say yes to him after all that.”
“Seems like what you have is a dilemma.”
I glare up at her. “Are you going to help me fix it?”
“I’m not in charge.” Which is Southern lady for ‘you’re doing it all wrong.’ She shrugs her shoulders and says, “You’ve already told them no. What is there to fix?
“Aren’t you going to tell me I have to go with one?”
“No.”
“You’re not going to tell me I was rude?”
“No.” And now she’s the one looking away, but I catch the ghost of a smile. “You’re so dramatic, Tessa. Really.”
I stare at her open-mouthed in shock. “What is up with everyone?” I mutter more to myself than to her.
“Honey, it’s your decision. If you don’t want to go with either of them, don’t. I’m not surprised, but we all know how stubborn you can be. If you really want to go with Shep, then I can’t understand why you would care that it might hurt Beau’s feelings. Unless you suddenly care about his feelings.” She lets her last comment trail off, her words sinking in.
“I don’t care about his feelings,” I say much too quickly. “And I’m going to see them both there, anyway. Why do I have to go with one?”
“Because that’s how dating works. And usually, you choose one. You do know how to date, don’t you?”
“Very funny. I’m so glad you offered your opinion, you’ve been really helpful.” I say, leaning heavy on the sarcasm and rising from the chair. “I’m going upstairs to contemplate skipping the fair altogether.”
She chuckles to herself and tosses over her shoulder as I’m leaving the room, “We’re leaving at six. Be ready to go.”
“Yes, ma’am.”