CHAPTER FOUR - LIZ
CHAPTER FOUR
LIZ
It’s not a heart attack.
The first time Liz had a panic attack, that’s what she’d thought was happening. And this wasn’t even a full-blown one right now. She just had sharp pains in her chest, right above her heart. Angina was the medical term. She wasn’t getting a good supply of blood to her heart because she was in fight-or-flight mode—for no good reason.
She sat on the wooden stool in the kitchen of her mom’s bakery and closed her eyes, sucking in a cleansing breath that was thick with the swirling aroma of cinnamon, melted sugar, caramel, chocolate, and butter. She still loved her long-lost friend, but so many memories had come rushing back at the sight of her yesterday and again this morning. Too many memories. And then there was the charm bracelet which had appeared out of nowhere, almost like a ghost.
Everything was suddenly fast and loud. Liz needed to shut it out for just a moment. She focused on the steady, mind-numbing hum of the vent like Dr. Mayer had once taught her. She breathed as she listened to the flow of the air conditioning.
She used to pray for amnesia, thinking it would fix everything that was wrong in her life. It would be amazing to wake up one day, to open her eyes and not have that wave of reality come bearing down on her. It started with a heaviness on her chest. And then, even though it’d been nine years, she remembered that Alyssa was dead. Her friends were gone. And she was left here on her own, with her mountain of fears.
Liz blew out another breath and then opened her eyes as the oven’s timer went off. She stepped over to check on her baked goods. Then she turned as the bell on the bakery’s front entrance dinged, announcing yet another customer.
Without thinking, Liz put on a smile that was far from sincere and stepped into the front area of her bakery. She looked up at her customer and her breath froze for just a moment.
“Hey there,” Matt said with an easy smile like he did every day.
She loved seeing Matt. She did. There was also this little part of her, though, that wished he could go somewhere else for his breakfast. That’s because the little flutter he caused in her heart was in direct contradiction to the stutter in her brain whenever she saw him. The past collided with the present and, for a moment, she was that terrified girl again, staring up into his eyes and wondering if she was having a nightmare.
The problem with small towns though—or at least Trove Isle—was that there was only one bakery. This one. “Um, hi, Matt. You need a muffin bite?” she asked. He came in every day and always got the same thing.
“Please,” he said. “And an extra strong coffee, if you don’t mind.”
“Long day already?” She glanced at the clock as she busied herself preparing his beverage. It wasn’t even noon yet.
“I’ve had a few calls for minor things. No big deal.”
“Keeping the town safe is a huge deal,” she said. And that’s another thing that made her feel so conflicted. He’d kept her safe. He was the one who’d pulled her from the vehicle all those years ago. She should be grateful to him. There should be a welcome mat with his name at the entrance.
A slow grin formed on his mouth. “Trove Isle isn’t exactly running over with crime, Liz. The most action I’ve gotten on the job lately was breaking up a Bunco fight at Pearl Lauderdale’s house.”
Liz laughed, her heart winning the good fight against her mind, which didn’t like any stressors or reminders of the accident. Her mind looked for calm. But Matt made her laugh, and that had its advantages. “Sounds pretty dangerous to me. Pearl Lauderdale can be feisty when she wants to be.”
“Don’t I know it? I barely escaped that house with my life.”
Liz pressed the lid on the to-go cup and then slid his coffee across the counter. “Here you go. No charge. Just keep on protecting the citizens of Trove Isle.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“My treat.”
“Thanks.” His dark brows lowered and formed two lines between his brown eyes. “I was worried about you after the run-in with Melody yesterday. You sure you were okay?”
Liz met his gaze. She always had this feeling that he could see right through her. “Yeah. I mean, it was a shock to see Melody, of course, but I’m glad she came back. I just wish she would have gotten here before Jo . . .” Liz trailed off.
Matt frowned. “Jo’s illness was quick. Melody might not have even gotten the word.”
“No, I don’t think she did.” Liz shook her head. “Anyway, back to your original question. Yes, I’m fine.”
“Well, I was talking about the accident. You were pale and I was halfway tempted to follow you back to your house and check on you again.” He held up his hands. “But you said you were okay, and I didn’t want to be one of those guys.”
Liz tilted her head to one side, watching him. “One of which guys?” she asked, feeling the corner of her mouth turn up.
“You know. The ones who women get irritated with just for being alive.”
Liz laughed, a bigger, harder laugh.
Matt smiled as he watched her. Then he reached for his drink and brought it to his lips. “Your coffee is just as good as your mom’s. I’m glad you’re okay. And that Melody made her way back to Trove Isle for a visit. Thanks again for the coffee, Liz.” Turning, he headed toward the door.
She watched him go, her chest light and airy. There was nothing like a good laugh. Or a run-in with a handsome man who engaged her in flirty banter. Her cell phone pinged from below the counter. Lowering her gaze, she picked it up and groaned at the text from her sister, the light and airy feeling dissipating immediately.
Rose: I’m sick. I need your permission to check out of school.
Sick? Rose had looked fine last night when she’d come in from the mall. “Fine” meaning she had a tight scowl and went straight to the guest bedroom.
Liz tapped her fingers along the screen.
Liz: I’ll call the school nurse and see what she thinks.
If Rose was throwing up or had a fever, then she could go home. If not, she needed to stay and learn. That’s what Liz’s parents would do if they were here. Right?
A quick reply pinged from Liz’s iPhone.
Rose: Don’t bother. You are the worst.
* * *
It was a quarter after six when Liz finally left the bakery that evening. Rose was supposed to help after school, but unsurprisingly, she was a no-show. Liz was getting used to Rose’s flakiness when it came to helping out at their mom’s business. Were all sixteen-year-olds this way? Liz didn’t remember shirking her duties at the bakery back then when it’d just been a part-time gig to fund going out with her friends.
Liz flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED and stepped onto the sidewalk of Seagull Street. Her arms were tired from reaching inside the glass case and the oven. Her legs were tired from standing and walking to and from the kitchen. Even her face was tired from the constant smile she offered customers. Even so, she couldn’t wait to take a few pictures while there was still a little bit of daylight left.
Looping her camera around her neck, she headed over to the community bike rack. After unlocking her vintage Schwinn from the metal bars, she swung her leg over the crossbar, straddling it while she shifted back and forth to gain her balance. As she did, she appreciated the cool salty air on her bare arms. It was the peak of spring. The surrounding trees and flowers were blooming with bright purples and deep pinks. Crimson reds and flashy oranges.
Liz pushed her right foot forward on the pedal and the bike propelled forward as she navigated to the far edge of the street, moving with traffic. She never felt scared on her bike, even with cars whizzing by. The fear came from being inside one of those cars, specifically behind the steering wheel.
She pedaled faster, racing against the slow-setting sun. The evening’s destination was the town fountain. She could get there, spend fifteen or twenty minutes taking pictures, and then head home to upload them to her computer while eating a microwave dinner. That was the plan at least.
As she rode, she waved at several familiar faces that she passed. There was no time to stop and chat. And even if there had been, she was all talked out. That was the hazard of working a full day at one of the town’s favorite hangouts.
Up ahead, Liz spotted the fountain and her heart lifted. She was eager to feel the familiar click of the camera’s shutter button beneath her index finger. Once she reached the fountain, she got off her bike and walked it to a safe spot. She used her foot to push the kickstand into place. Then she excitedly turned to look around her. She’d photographed the spray from the fountain a dozen times already. The cement wall that encircled the fountain too. She’d also snapped photographs of the flowers and the trees. And the memorial plaque on the nearby bench in Alyssa’s honor.
The plaque had been paid for by Liz’s family. Melody’s father had shut himself off after the accident and Melody had left town. Bri’s parents were never too involved in her life to begin with. They never had been from the moment Bri arrived in Trove Isle during third grade. It was Liz’s parents who carted Bri off to afterschool activities. Bri had become an honorary member of the Dawson family. Even though Bri’s real family was physically available and usually on a couch in their living room when Bri arrived home. Even when Bri had been injured after the accident and had gotten addicted to alcohol and prescription pain medication, her family had seemed unconcerned as her life had spiraled downward for years. It was Liz’s family who’d staged interventions. Who’d offered to pay for rehab and even sent her once.
Bri’s grandmother was the only one who supported Bri. She took care of Bri’s daughter Ally, sharing custody with Ally’s father in California. Liz’s family went to visit Bri, month by month, year by year, for four years now. It went to prove that blood didn’t make a family. You got to choose who you were loyal to. Who your family was. And in Melody’s case, she’d chosen who it wasn’t anymore.
Liz stepped in front of the bench memorial and lifted her camera to peer through the viewfinder. She’d taken this exact shot many times before, but it looked different today. Maybe it was the exact location of the sun in the sky, but the metal plaque seemed to shine. The shutter clicked beneath her finger as she pressed down.
Click, click, click.
She stepped back and forth to photograph from different angles, fascinated by how bright the silver plate looked through her lens this evening.
Click. Click. Click.
“Liz?”
Liz lowered her camera and spun around to face Missy Lyons, an old classmate of hers. Missy was a teacher at the elementary school these days and a mom of three. The kind of mom who was perfectly put together with matching everything including her nails.
“Oh, it is you,” Missy said with an energetic smile.
Liz gave a small nod. “Hi, Missy.”
“I thought I spotted your bike over there.” Missy gestured behind her. “Dave took the girls on a daddy-daughter date this evening so I have some rare free time. I’m just out for a walk,” she explained as if she needed an excuse to be out by herself on this beautiful evening.
Liz always felt a little awkward when she ran into classmates who were married with kids. Maybe she was imagining it, but it felt like her former classmates looked at her like she had three heads. Liz could practically hear their thoughts wondering why she lived alone and had no life to speak of. “I’m just out taking pictures.”
Missy looked around with an appreciative nod. “This place is perfect for that, isn’t it?” She faced Liz again. “Hey, do you photograph small events by chance? My parents are having a vow renewal ceremony and their photographer suddenly backed out.”
Liz’s heart leapt in her chest. “Oh?”
Missy grimaced. “I don’t know what price they had negotiated for. My parents can be quite the hagglers, I’m embarrassed to say.”
“Well, I’m not exactly a professional photographer.” Liz was several steps above an amateur though. She’d started taking pictures during a journalism class in high school. She’d fallen in love with the pastime and became self-taught on all the ins and outs of lighting and photography editing. The only reason she didn’t consider herself a pro was because she didn’t hire herself out.
“Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve seen your work hanging in The Bitery. It’s really good,” Missy said.
“Thank you. Where is the event?” Liz didn’t drive, and Rose wasn’t exactly reliable for giving Liz a lift. But maybe if the event was within bicycling distance . . .
“Highland Forest,” Missy said.
Liz’s heart sunk. That was half an hour’s drive away. And a cab ride would eat up any profits she might make on the job. But maybe it’d be worth it for the exposure. Then again, Liz would have to get someone to run the bakery in her absence. Those were all inconvenient pieces to an ill-fitting puzzle.
“How about I give your business card to my mom, and she can call you to see if it’ll work for you to be their photographer?” Missy asked.
“My card?” Liz repeated, feeling completely unprepared.
Missy’s smile faltered. “You don’t have business cards?”
Liz wondered why she’d never thought of getting some made. “I have cards for The Bitery. Hold on.” Liz dug into her bag and pulled out the business cards for The Bitery. She grabbed a pen and wrote her cell phone number and email address on the back. “You can contact me here.”
“Perfect.” Missy slid the card into the front pocket of her purse. “I’ll give it to my mom when I see her tomorrow. It’s all about connections, right?”
Liz nodded. Connections, transportation, time, and apparently, business cards.
“Well, it was good to see you,” Missy said, her warm smile returning to her lips. “We’ll be in touch.”
Liz waved and watched Missy continue on her walk. She felt equal parts invigorated and deflated after that interaction. Just like she had with her earlier conversation with Melody. It’d been brief, but Liz had replayed the moments in her head for the rest of the day. Melody had found the lost charm bracelet. That was a surprise. And she’d tried to pass it to Liz.
Liz felt so rude for turning that chance down. Melody couldn’t just waltz back into town like she’d never turned her back on them though, and try to pass their charm bracelet around like the silly teenaged girls they’d once been. They weren’t those same girls anymore. A lot had happened, creating a wedge between them that couldn’t be repaired in a thirty-minute time span.
Frustrated, Liz returned her attention to the plaque with Alyssa’s name on it. She lifted her camera and prepared to take one more photograph. The sun had sunk lower, and she didn’t like to ride her bike after dark. Plus, she couldn’t wait to get home to edit these photographs. Taking and developing pictures to hang at the bakery was the extent of her photography career. A photographer who couldn’t be available for gigs wasn’t much of a photographer at all. Just like a friend who wasn’t available for, oh, say, nine years, wasn’t much of a friend.
To: Liz Dawson
From: Bri Johnson
Subject: You asked, so here’s my answer
Liz,
When I get out of prison, I’ll finally return to Trove Isle. I’ve thought about this day so many times over the weeks and months and years. I’m a little worried that it’ll feel like I’m coming home with my tail between my legs. Part of me doesn’t even want to go back for that reason. I don’t want to show my face because that’s going to be hard. I know it will be. I’m guessing Melody feels that way too. After all this time, being back and being the subject of gossip. All eyes on her. When it’s me, I’ll want to have a friend by my side. I hope it’ll be you. In fact, I don’t need to hope because I know it’ll be you. Because you’re the strong one (don’t forget it).
B