CHAPTER 29 #4
She wanted to ask again about Devon, give Marla her number and ask her to call if she heard anything. But she just stayed quiet. You’re overreacting, Rebecca.
“Join us Sunday if you can,” Rev called, and they motored off into the night.
Rebecca jangled her keys, edging toward her car.
“Well, it’s getting late.”
Josh wiggled his eyebrows comically. “This is what they call ‘late’ in the city?”
She giggled, and he looked at the sky.
“The night is young.” He held out an arm, nodded for her to join. “Come. Take a walk with me.”
She bit her lip, then realized that was exactly what she wanted to do—go for a walk with her old friend and let everything go. Just for a little while.
“Sounds like fun,” she said, linking her arm in his.
They walked through the town toward the big gazebo at the center, and Josh told her all about the big community festivals they held there once the weather turned cooler—the back-to-school bash, the fall pumpkin fest, the turkey giveaway, the Christmas walk.
“They’d still hold the St. Patty’s Day Party if Les Newman hadn’t gotten everyone sick with food poisoning from the barbecue that one year. Whew, that was one rough weekend.”
She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my.”
They walked on, the soft pad of their shoes on the pavement and an occasional dog bark or car cruising by the only sounds.
“By the way, I really liked your article on that artist from this week’s paper, the one who does the landscapes? I went to school with him.”
“You did?” Her cheeks flushed, and she felt unreasonably happy at the compliment.
The story had fallen into her pile and she’d almost given it to Tiff, but the girl was overloaded and Rebecca felt like a creative break after the weight of Tamika’s story and the endless cycle of meeting coverage, which at best was tedious and at worst was nitpicky politicking.
The artist, a funny but quiet man named Ralph, had one arm and was missing two fingers on his right hand, but it didn’t seem to slow him down one bit.
He had perfected a special painting technique, and watching him felt like she was witnessing a beautiful ballet, the colors and swirls landing on the canvas in an artful combination of realism and fantasy.
Josh smiled over at her. “You have this …” He waved a hand, laughed.
“I don’t even know how to say it, and I’m probably going to sound like a wacko, but this …
way of catching someone’s attention and making them hold onto the words, fall in love with the subject, like it’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever heard about, ever. ”
“Wow, Josh.” She risked a glance, hoped her pink cheeks weren’t too obvious. “I think that’s the best compliment I’ve had in, well, I don’t know how long!”
He chuckled. “Well, I mean it sincerely.”
The ring of a bike bell from a side street caught her ear as they walked and she turned suddenly, hoping she’d see Devon. But it was another kid on a bike, an older kid, not Devon at all. Her heart sank, though her head knew it wasn’t at all logical she’d see him out, riding around at this hour.
She looked at Josh. “JJ hasn’t mentioned Devon this week, has he?”
“Not since the weekend. Why—everything okay?”
Rebecca shrugged. “It’s silly, but I’ve been worried about him. I saw him yesterday, burgers at the diner, and I asked him about a nasty bruise on his wrist. He got kinda quiet about it, made up some story, and now he’s MIA.”
“Could be sick.”
“That’s what Marla said, that he probably had that nasty virus going around. But …”
“But you don’t think so?”
Rebecca shook her head, not sure how to say it. “Granny said he had some issues at home.”
Josh cocked his head. “You think Devon’s being … abused?”
Hearing him say the word aloud made it somehow sound less hysterical than it did floating around in her head. She chewed her lip, nodded.
“Maybe.”
Josh frowned. “Does Marla think so?”
“We haven’t talked about it. It’s just been this …” She waved her hand like she was shooing stray thoughts. “This strange theory. Call it an instinct.”
He stopped walking. “God gives us instincts for a reason, Becks.”
“Except when you’re confusing instinct with imagination.
And that could get people in serious trouble if it’s unfounded.
” She let out a breath. “I don’t know, Josh.
I mean, I’ve been having weekly meetings with this kid for more than a month now.
We talk—about real stuff, mind you. We laugh.
But I don’t really know him. I’ve never even been to his house.
If he was in trouble, don’t you think Marla or Rev would have clued in to it? ”
He screwed up his face like he was thinking. “Maybe not. Maybe they’re too close to see it.” He looked at her. “Sometimes we miss the things that are right in front of our face.”
He had a point.
They started walking again.
“I suppose I can call Marla tomorrow, see if she has any suspicions.”
“That’s a good idea. And hey, if you’re worried, it can’t hurt to take a drive out to his house. She might want to tag along.”
“Granny and I are planning to bring him some chicken soup in the morning. Maybe Marla will want to come, too.”
They reached the gazebo and stopped, and Rebecca surprised herself by leaping up the steps and onto one of the two oversized glider bench swings. The back of the swing was cool, and the metal felt good on her skin, which was slightly warm from the walk.
Josh joined her, and the swing swayed heavily as he sat, her feet lifting off the ground. She found herself smiling, closing her eyes as she leaned back and let herself enjoy the rhythm.
She could sense Josh next to her. He was a big guy, she let herself realize.
Not overweight, but tall, with broad shoulders.
She imagined he’d need the strength for his work as a contractor.
She remembered what he’d said about her being his first crush, wondered why she’d never thought about him that way.
She opened her eyes, saw he was leaning back as she was, hands behind his head.
He’d been so easy to talk to, all those years ago.
Like a sounding board. She’d rant about her parents, her friends back home, whatever guy she was currently obsessed with.
And yet, a crush. Did he still have one? It had been more than twenty years. He’d become a man, had a wife, a son. Been widowed.
“You know I came here to Dahlia because I hit rock bottom.” The words were out before she could help herself, but once they were she felt better. Bolder. Stronger.
He opened his eyes, nodded slowly. “I wondered.”
“It wasn’t good.” She hesitated. “I’d been in the hospital.”
He kept his eyes on her. “You don’t have to tell me.”
But she wanted to, found herself opening up like the old days, telling him about Peter, Alyssa, the Bannister Group.
“I’d taken too many pills. I didn’t think I was trying to kill myself, didn’t mean to, but looking back, I think that’s exactly what I was trying to do.
Take away the pain. Escape. Whatever you want to call it.
” A lump settled in her throat, and she swallowed, gazing out at the town, at the little sparkles of streetlight making the whole square look magical, almost like fairy lights.
“I felt like I’d lost everything. They’d been my world, and I was cast aside like an afterthought. ”
She felt rather than saw him reach over, his skin warm as he folded his larger palm over her hand. A shiver ran through her.
“You’re no afterthought.” His words were soft, and she had to strain to hear him.
Turning her head, she realized how close his face was to hers. How close his lips were. It would be so easy to move her own head a fraction of an inch, turn her face up to his. To lose herself in the tumble of romance and feeling.
But this was Josh. And then what?
His eyes were locked on hers, and her heart thudded so loudly she thought he could hear it. Their fingers laced, tighter now. She wanted to kiss him, she realized, wanted to take that tumble. Felt herself leaning in, felt the heady fall begin to take over.
But she put a hand on his chest.
I can’t.
“Josh—I...” She didn’t even have the words. Gently, she pushed him back, slid her hand from his. Scooted back so she could turn and face him. Put some distance between them.
He nodded, but not before she saw a flash of disappointment.
“I—It’s just too soon, after …”
“It’s okay, Becks. I understand.”
She looked at him. “You do?”
She knit her fingers in her lap. Her left hand felt cold without his, solitary. Her heart was still hammering against her chest.
“I do.” He gave a small smile. “I’m also remarkably patient.”
Something about the way he said it gave her a little thrill, as if her insides had gone from solid to liquid in an instant.
A soft female laugh glided across the air, and they turned to see a couple, hand in hand, strolling across the grass, lost in each other.
They were young, and Rebecca couldn’t tell in the darkness, but she thought it might be Tiff and the kid from Smathers Grocery.
The couple walked on by, their progress painfully slow.
After what felt like hours, they were far off, down the street, their laughter an echo on the summer air.
“Thanks for trusting me.” His voice was quiet.
She gave a wry smile. “Thanks for listening. I know I walk a good game, like I’ve got it all together, but some days that hospital room feels like yesterday. I’m a long way off from ‘normal.’”
“Normal’s overrated. And you’re stronger than you think you are, Becks.”
She could see he believed that, and looking back at him, she believed it, too.
In that moment, he reminded her of Devon.
Devon looked at her the same way. Like he had utter faith in her character, like he knew she was bigger than the image she projected or even the job she did.
She had more to offer than skills and marketability—Ed Bannister’s word.
She thought of her former boss, of his grizzled sideburns and cynical grin, and for the first time in months smiled at the memory instead of winced.
They’d been friends, the two of them, in spite of what had happened with her job. That was worth holding onto.
Suddenly Josh was on his feet, tugging her up. “Come on. Race you back to the cars?”
She beat him by a good three yards, smacking her hands down on her car hood in victory.
“Home free!”
He gave her a high five, jangled his keys. “See you around this weekend?”
“Hope so.”
“Night, Becks.”
“Night, JJ.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Josh.”
He stood a respectable distance away as she got into the car, waited as she turned the key and drove off back to Granny’s.
Through the rearview mirror, she watched him wave as she pulled away, the memory of his warm hand covering hers a comfort as she navigated the empty streets of Dahlia, a million miles from everything she’d ever been.