Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Sarah stared through the lens of camera number three, a stationary angle that would record the cash register and front counter of Last Chance Vintage on a continuous basis.
Finally, she was working behind a camera and learning something about how a television show came together.
Who needed a college education when she could assist a super-successful producer like her dad?
She’d waited too long to learn more about her mother’s career and talent.
Now, she’d never have the chance to see her working in her studio again.
But there was no reason she couldn’t learn more about her father’s world and experience it for herself.
The day would be perfect, if not for a trip to the police station hanging over her head.
Shoving thoughts of the letter aside, she played with the focus on the camera, seeing what all the buttons did.
The morning sun shone bright through the front windows of the store crowded with her dad’s production crew and—it seemed like—half the population of Heartache, Tennessee.
Twenty people milled around the front of the building, waiting for the store to open so they could be a part of Interstate Antiquer.
At least, that was her dad’s perspective. She happened to know that all those people on the street were there for Erin because Erin had tons of friends.
Sarah sharpened the focus on the camera, bringing Erin into clear view at the front counter. Erin laughed at something Ally said a second before Mrs. Finley brought out a makeup brush to dust powder over Erin’s face.
“Aunt Erin looks great.” Ally rushed over to gush at Sarah’s side. She glanced down at the viewing window for the camera to see what the scene would look like once it was recorded.
Ally had taken the day off school to be present for the first day of filming. Of course, Ally had already gotten into Vanderbilt in Nashville, so she didn’t need to worry about her grades or her attendance record. Lucky.
“That outfit is killer,” Sarah agreed, admiring the tribal-patterned shorts Erin wore with dark lace leggings and knee boots.
A creamy linen blouse topped it off and she wore her hair up in messy clip.
“I’m glad she didn’t go too conservative like she was talking about with Trish at the clothing drive. ”
“Although this is kind of conservative for her,” Ally pointed out. “She’d been wearing a lot of Goth stuff up until last week. Even her hair is lighter now.”
Sarah wondered if the recent changes had anything to do with her father.
The two of them had definitely spent a lot of time together in the past week and half.
And Sarah had noticed her dad smiled at Erin more than he smiled at most people.
Which was still hardly ever considering he’d turned a lot more serious in the past two years. But she had noticed.
Even now, her dad strolled over to Erin and Bethany to introduce the crew’s gofer who’d brought coffees for everyone. Erin smiled at the gofer kid as she thanked him. For the most part, though, Erin’s eyes seemed stuck to Dad.
“Ally, do you think your aunt likes my father?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. For so long, she’d been hoping he would stop grieving and living in the past.
Then again, she couldn’t picture him with anyone else but her mom.
“I don’t know, but it sounds like your dad is kind of a rock star with the mom crowd.” Ally raised her cell phone and snapped photos of the store and all the cameras.
“It’s weird. I have a teacher who practically drools when he comes into school for a meeting.” Sarah shuddered.
“You don’t live with your mom?” Ally asked while texting, not even looking up.
“No.” Sarah didn’t get asked the question very often. Back at school, everyone had known what happened to her mother thanks to the papers. The internet. The TV news every night for months during the trial. “She died a couple of years ago.”
Ally’s eyes flashed up to hers, her phone forgotten.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Her hand covered Sarah’s wrist in automatic sympathy.
Or was it empathy?
If she’d studied for her SATs, maybe she’d know. Either way, it felt nice.
“Thanks.” She didn’t mention that her biological father had been the reason that her mother was dead now. Or that Sarah was on her way to the police station to let them know what a twisted creep her DNA donor was.
Ally might not feel so sympathetic then. Swallowing back her nervousness about the police station visit, Sarah set the camcorder on Auto-record and shuffled out of the way of one of the production guys carrying in an extra spotlight.
“I’m glad you’re staying in Heartache for a little while,” Ally said. “I’m going to school tomorrow, but then we’re off all next week if you want to do anything.”
“That’d be nice.” Idly, she flipped through a rack of blouses organized by color and size, stopping when she got to a tee with a bunch of female superheroes on the front. “Will there be any more parties? I had fun last night.”
She and Lucas had been making out in the woods before her father’s arrival. Total buzzkill.
“Did you? I wondered if everything was okay since your dad came to get you.”
“Right. Well that part was a major downer, but I was having fun until then.” Why did he try to pry confidences out of her that were supposed to be private between her and Theresa?
“Is he worried about you being with Lucas?” Ally passed her a bright blue miniskirt. “This would be cute with the superheroes tee, by the way.”
“Why would he worry about Lucas?” She couldn’t focus on the skirt. She moved out of the way of a rolling camera as it followed another customer through the store.
“Oh.” Ally shook her head. “No reason. I just wondered why your dad wanted you to leave.”
Ally sounded sincere, yet her cheeks turned pink as she leafed through the clothing racks faster.
“Why does everyone think Lucas is trouble?” Sarah kept her voice low, since the cameras were probably picking up audio now. There weren’t any close to them, but she knew the microphones on her dad’s equipment were much better than anything she had on her phone.
“I’m not sure, honestly.” Ally shrugged. “I don’t want to spread rumors anyway.”
“Ally—”
“Sarah?” Her dad interrupted—as always—just when things were getting interesting. “Are you ready to go?”
He must have ESP in addition to all his other protector-father instincts.
“Okay.” It’s not like she’d have this conversation with her new friend in front of him anyhow. “Text me later,” she told Ally as she brought the shirt and skirt to the front of the store. Turning to her dad, she asked, “We’ll stop by the shop afterward, right?”
“I can drop you off here if you like, but I’m probably going to get some work done at the hotel.”
“Or you can just drop me off at the soccer field and I’ll pick up my car.” She handed the clothes to Ally’s mom, who still stood by the front counter while Erin helped a customer. “Can I hold these until later, Mrs. Finley?”
“Of course,” she said, smiling, though Sarah was pretty sure she had a tear in her eye. “I’ll let Erin know.”
If there hadn’t been other people around, Sarah would have asked her if she was okay. She didn’t want to put Mrs. Finley on the spot, though, so she simply thanked her and followed her father out the front door.
“Dad?” She hurried to catch up to his long steps.
He’s mad at me. She kept thinking it even though Theresa always told her that he wasn’t mad just because he didn’t have much to say.
Pausing outside the rental car, he waited for her to speak.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the letter sooner.” She hated it when he became quiet. It reminded her too much of those months right after her mom’s death where he’d barely spoken.
She slid into the passenger side of the big four-door Lincoln and buckled up. Then she locked the door, too, knowing how much he appreciated it when she took extra safety precautions.
He didn’t speak for a long moment as he got in and started the car.
He looked tired. Sad. She remembered days when he’d been so full of energy even after he came home from a business trip.
He’d race into the house with surprise concert tickets for her mom or a new phone with a shiny pink case for her.
She missed that—not for the phones or tickets—but just seeing him full of life and happiness. Finally, he looked at her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
A million answers came to mind. Any of which would have been true since there were—literally—a million reasons why. But she went with one she hoped he might understand.
“I keep thinking we’re finally done with the nightmare, and then something new happens to make it come back.” She couldn’t look at him when she said it or she would cry and that would hurt him worse. “I just couldn’t stand for this letter to undo all the hard work we’ve done to put it behind us.”
“That’s the problem.” Exhaling a long breath, he pounded the steering wheel lightly with his fist. “The past isn’t really behind us, is it?” He picked up the stupid envelope with the postmark from Pollock, Louisiana.
“Maybe if we tried harder to move forward, it would be.” She’d never said it in so many words to him. But that’s what she wanted more than anything.
She held her breath waiting for his verdict, her chest really tight.
“I think we have different ideas of what it means to try hard, Sarah.” He set the letter down in the console between them. “For you, it means forgetting. For me, it means making sure nothing like that can ever touch us again.”
His expression seemed so distant, his words a reminder they were moving apart in every way possible.
She’d already lost her mom. Soon she’d lose the only man she’d ever really thought of as a father, and not just because she’d need to take more responsibility for herself after high school ended.
Also because the man she used to know was fading a little more every day, his happy spirit smudged by grief and worry.