Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Amber
I grab the Hicks Creek High School coffee mug out of my Keurig and set it down on the granite counter. I pour the oat milk creamer in with a little cinnamon and collagen before I stir it. An easy, laid-back Saturday morning is just what I need, but it’s not what I’ll get.
I let out a sigh and look around at the kitchen. My parents did such a great job with the remodel that it was hard to believe this was the same house my grandparents lived in. I smile, settling against the counter as I eye the mountain of boxes in the living room.
“Ughhhh, there’s still so much I need to unpack. Whyyyyyy do I have so much stuff?” I say out loud before my phone starts ringing.
“Hey, we’re having a barbecue tomorrow. I expect you to be here,” my older brother says.
“I’m aware. Your wife told me on Monday.”
“But we didn’t plan it until yesterday.”
“That’s what you think.” I giggle.
“Whatever,” he says with a laugh. “How’s school going?”
“It’s great. It’s nice to get to see my nieces every day, too. They make sure to run into my classroom every morning.”
“Sof said she couldn’t figure out why they were always ready to go so early in the morning, but then you told her they were coming to visit you.”
“Auntie Amber may have special treats for them every morning.” I laugh.
“Just what they need. What, are you lacing them with donuts or something?”
“No, sir. I told them that Elsa from Frozen had sent me her favorite breakfast recipe. It’s avocado toast and yogurt with blueberries and strawberries.”
“They hate avocado.”
“Correction, they did hate it.”
“I swear, you have a gift.”
“That I do.” I grin.
I walk around searching through boxes for my red sundress, mentally cursing myself for not doing this sooner. I don’t have much time before I’m supposed to meet up with Bree to look for bridesmaid dresses.
Oh, I think it’s in the box with the red tape.
I turn around quickly and trip over a different box, cursing as I do.
“You know, Sofia could come over and help you unpack,” Teddy says.
“I’ve unpacked.”
“Then what did you trip over?”
“None of your business,” I say quickly.
I can hear my brother practically cackling on the other end. I roll my eyes and laugh at myself.
“What’s it like living in Grandma and Grandpa’s old house?” he asks.
The house was a college graduation gift when they moved to Florida. Since I lived in Connecticut, it was sitting empty. My parents took it upon themselves to update and turn it into an Airbnb temporarily to give me a little extra income.
They’re really the greatest.
“It was really nice that I didn’t have to scrounge for housing or stay with our parents when I came home for this job. It’s not the same inside, though. So it just feels like a new house that also reminds me of them,” I say.
Since it came furnished, I tried to sell as much furniture as I could on Facebook marketplace before I left Connecticut. Whatever I didn’t sell, I donated to a local shelter. Maybe having to unload furniture would have helped me to unpack all of this stuff.
“Also, Mom is talking about coming over and unpacking for you. Don’t let it come to that,” Teddy teases.
“I might let her. This is overwhelming. I threw a lot away, but now, I’m wondering why I kept my collection of Marvel coffee mugs.”
“I guess having Mom to help with stuff is a perk of coming home.”
“For sure.”
“How’s Casey Townson doing?”
“That’s random. How do you know her?”
“Her dad’s one of my best friends.”
“Wait, is that the Derek you play pool with? Sofia said that guy was hilarious. There’s no way that’s the same guy.”
“Same guy. He’s been through a lot.”
“He was married to Sharon Livesay, the Wicked Witch of the West, so that makes him, like, the jerk behind the curtain. I don’t know.”
“He’s not a bad guy.”
“My interactions with him say otherwise.”
“He’s a little rough around the edges, especially since Sharon died. He had a lot dropped on his plate.”
“He must be something special that the Livesays allowed him to keep running the farm, I guess,” I say offhandedly.
“I don’t think they allowed that. I don’t think they had a choice.” He chuckles dryly. “They went to Mike, the lawyer here in town, and said they wanted Derek and the kids evicted from the property and wanted him out of the farm because they planned to sell it.”
My stomach drops. I grip my coffee mug a little tighter than necessary.
How could someone want to evict their own grandkids?
That’s horrific, even for the Livesays.
“Wait, what? Is that a possibility?”
“They seem to be leaving him alone now, but you know how they are.”
“I definitely do. It’s not hard to understand where Sharon got her nasty behavior from. Why would they try to evict him and the kids, though? That doesn’t make sense.”
“They blame him for her death, claiming that he murdered her. All of the farmhands watched Sharon leave on the horse and even told her not to take her because she spooked easily. She didn’t listen.”
My stomach drops. He says it so nonchalantly, which I guess as his best friend, he would know him better than anyone, but this is a big deal. I stand there for a minute, processing everything he said.
“Say that again.”
“He didn’t kill her.”
“I mean…he’s been mostly a jerk to me since I met him, but I don’t see him as the murdering type. However, no one saw Ted Bundy in that light either.”
My brother groans and lets out a half-hearted chuckle.
“You, of all people, should remember how ridiculous that family is. Remember when they accused our high school principal of taking bribes from our parents when you got the lead in the school play?”
How could I forget?
He’s not wrong. I also remember her mother accusing the principal of sabotaging the student council and homecoming votes when Sharon didn’t win something.
Could Derek be a murderer, though? Is that why Casey’s demeanor suddenly changed this year? Is it because she remembers things?
Shoot, get that crazy out of your head.
“I’m just saying that there’s usually a reason behind accusations.”
After realizing my last boyfriend was a cheater and pathological liar, it would seem that I am not the best judge of character, seeing as how I kissed someone who people believe to be a murderer.
I groan to myself and shake my head. I don’t believe that Derek is a murderer, not in the slightest. I know the Livesays well enough to know they have an ulterior motive. But there is still a little fear surrounding the possibility of being wrong.
“Derek is not a murderer. Get to know him better, and you’ll see.”
“Doubtful,” I say playfully. “It seems that the farm is doing well. Shouldn’t the Livesays be happy about that?”
“They don’t see the bigger picture and want a big payout now.”
“It’s good to see that they have remained assholes after all this time,” I reply sarcastically.
“For sure. Next time you’re around Derek, cut him a little slack.”
“Are you telling me this because he’ll be at your party tomorrow?”
“No. He and the kids already had plans out of town, so he won’t be there.”
Dang it.
I suck in a breath silently and try to squash my disappointment.
Why does it bother me that he won’t be there?
* * *
An hour later, Bree squeals, tugging my arm as we step into the shop. The scent of roses and freshly pressed fabrics greets us like an old friend. Rows of blush and sage green bridesmaid dresses line the racks, sparkling under the gentle lighting, and I feel a flutter of excitement. Seeing her so happy makes me giddy, too.
“Amber! Look at this one!”
She pulls a deep emerald-green dress off the rack and holds it against herself, spinning slightly.
I grin, nodding with approval. “That’s gorgeous! It would look amazing on your sister, too. Green’s a good color for her.”
She raises an eyebrow, laughing. “Oh, like it’s not going to look amazing on you, too? Please, girl. You could make a potato sack look glamorous.”
We burst into laughter, and for a few hours, everything just feels light, easy, and like old times. It’s a simple joy—just two friends playing dress-up, picturing the big day.
I can’t stop thinking about Derek possibly being my date to the wedding, though. Or what he would think I looked like in these dresses.
I’ve never been so hyperfocused on a man before, and it’s off-putting.
After circling countless dress racks and taking enough photos to rival a magazine shoot, we head to a new steakhouse in Calhoun.
“This place has gotten rave reviews,” she says when we walk in. “Ugh, Charlie’s calling. I bet he’s calling to ask me where I put the remote.” She sighs, giving me an apologetic look.
I laugh, waving her off. “Take your time. I’ll find us a table and get settled in. The crowd will be crazy, I’m sure.”
The scent of sizzling steaks and roasted potatoes greets me as I walk in and tell the greeter that I need a table for two. They’ve got a warm, rustic theme with wood everywhere, even on the ceiling beams. She takes me to a cozy booth near the back, and I settle in, people-watching as I sip on water, waiting for Bree to finish her call and join me. The place is buzzing, with families and couples filling the tables around me.
I pull out my phone, and as I do, I hear a shrill voice speaking a little too loudly. I look up and see David and Nora Livesay sitting in a booth directly across from me. David’s back is turned, and Nora probably wouldn’t recognize me even if she did look up from her menu. It has been at least fourteen years since they last saw me.
Sharon’s family. They were just as horrible to me growing up as their daughter was.
They chat in low voices that gradually become clearer as they stop focusing on their menus and settle into the conversation. I tilt my head down, pretending to scroll through my phone.
I hope they don’t recognize me. I don’t want to make small talk with these jerks.
I’m close enough to overhear their conversation and watch as David leans in, his voice a mix of frustration and arrogance. “You know, I stopped by the farm yesterday, and that smug asshole had the nerve to question why I was there.”
“Did you remind him that we own the place?”
“Of course, I did.”
“The nerve of him to question the hand that feeds him. He wouldn’t have anything if we hadn’t let him keep that shithole.” Nora scoffs and shakes her head disgustedly. “He’s entitled. The boy’s practically a hermit. The only thing keeping him there is some misguided sense of loyalty.” She snorts. “Derek never had the slightest clue how to run a farm, and Sharon always knew it. It’s good that we kept the inheritance from him and those bratty kids.”
Bratty kids? They’re your grandchildren!
I stiffen, suddenly feeling a flash of sympathy for Derek. From the little I’ve seen of him, he’s been nothing but responsible, even if he’s a little…guarded. I also feel irritation as my overprotectiveness for one of my students kicks in.
“I swear, he must have found out that she was going to sell the orchard,” Nora says.
“Ma’am, can I get you something to drink?” the server asks as he stands in my line of sight.
Whatever David and Nora are talking about has been drowned out. It’s probably for the best. I can feel myself getting annoyed with just the little I’ve heard.
Don’t concern yourself with other people’s businesses, Amber.
I smile back at the server. “Um, yeah. Can you bring me two margaritas and an appetizer of the pretzels and beer cheese, please? My friend should be in soon.”
“Certainly.”
The server walks off, and my ears immediately tune back into what’s happening at the other table. I can hear Nora grumbling.
“He couldn’t keep his wife, and he sure can’t keep a farm.”
I feel a prickle of anger creeping up my spine.
Are they still badmouthing Derek? He has to be a damn saint to have been married to their daughter.
“Oh, she hated him as much as we do.” David shakes his head.
My stomach twists as I watch them, a part of me wanting to jump in and tell them how wrong they are. But I stay silent, gripping my phone so tightly that my knuckles turn white.
The server brings the drinks to the table, and I immediately take a long pull from mine. I need something to calm me down a little bit. I haven’t been able to hear a lot of their conversation, but I’ve listened to enough to remind me why their daughter was such a hateful human being.
“I’ll make certain that he has no choice but to sell. He and those brat kids will be off our land and out of our lives for good in no time.”
Fear and anger envelop me. I barely know Derek or the kids, but I’ll be damned if I allow one of my students to become homeless. It’s none of my business, I know, but I can’t allow anything to happen to Casey.
I have to tell Teddy or Derek about this. The Livesays have always been brutal and have never held to any sort of moral code. The kids could get hurt.