CHAPTER TWELVE
The First Annual MacLeod Farm Fourth of July Bash was everything Seth had promised—loud, crowded, friendly, with lots of food and chatter and competition. Des’s head was spinning the entire time. She helped Seth with whatever needed to be done: watching the grill when he had to step away, chatting with people he introduced her to, gathering abandoned paper plates and cups and soda cans and tossing them into the appropriate containers. The day had almost ended when it occurred to her that she had in fact, as Seth predicted, fallen into the role of hostess without even realizing it.
The thought had come unbidden, but there it was. She’d never had a better time, never felt more comfortable in her own skin, never felt more a part of something bigger than herself, other than with her shelter staff back in Montana. Thinking of them gave her a pang—she missed them, even chatty Fran, who never met a story she couldn’t drag out. This was different, though. It was as if Hidden Falls was part of her. When had that happened?
She wondered how her father had been able to leave it behind, then reminded herself that in time, she would be doing the same.
She’d watched Seth walk up the hill from the grapevines with his arm around a tall, pretty woman in a linen dress that buttoned down the front and looked so much cooler than the shorts Des wore. The resemblance between them was so strong that Des was certain the woman could only be his sister, Amy.
When Seth sought her out to introduce her, Des said, “I’d know you anywhere. You must be Amy.”
“And you must be the girl my little brother can’t stop talking about.”
Des looked up at Seth, who was one of the tallest men she’d ever known. “It’s tough thinking of you as anyone’s little brother.”
“There was a time when I was taller, if you can imagine that.” Amy’s eyes were dark and warm like Seth’s, her dark curly hair tucked behind her ears. For the first time, Des wondered what color hair Seth had been born with. Maybe sometime she’d ask.
“This is some bash, isn’t it?” Amy glanced around at the crowd. “I understand you had a hand in organizing all this. Nice job.”
“Thanks.” Des grinned. “I wasn’t so sure he was going to be able to pull it off, but he did. There must be over a hundred people here.”
“Oh, easily. And before too much longer, there will be even more. The folks who clean up at the park will be finishing up real soon, and I heard they’re all heading over.”
Des must have looked horrified, because Amy patted her on the arm.
“Not to panic. They’re bringing more burgers.”
She’d have liked to have spent some time talking with Seth’s sister, but Amy was on call and her beeper went off. She excused herself, took a call, then came back with apologies.
“I’m so sorry. I have to go. Could we have lunch one day, just you and me? I’d like to get to know you. I know my brother is very fond of you. He’s never really talked about anyone he’s dated, but he talks about you all the time. And you got him to take in not one but two dogs. Seth, who never expressed any interest in having a pet, has two dogs.” Amy shook her head. “You must have put a spell on him.”
“She has.” Seth put an arm around Des. “Wait up, Amy. I’ll walk you out.”
“No need. I’ll call you this week. Des, it’s been a pleasure. I’ll get your number from Seth and I’ll call you to see about that lunch.” Amy disappeared around the corner of the house.
“Having lunch with my sister, eh? Think you’re going to find out all my secrets?”
“Of course. That’s what sisters do.” Des looked around the backyard. Cara and Joe were sitting with a group under the maple tree, Joe apparently entertaining everyone with a story. Allie, however, was nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen Allie?” she asked.
Seth shook his head. “Barney’s over there by the picnic table, and I saw Nikki with a bunch of kids down near the pond, but I haven’t seen Allie. She must be here somewhere. Everyone else in town is.”
“Is Ben here yet?”
“I haven’t seen him, either. He’d better show up soon. The baseball game starts in ten minutes, and he’s covering second.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “How are you in the outfield?”
As it turned out, she was terrible, even with Nikki backing her up. Cara played a mean third base, Mark pitched, Seth played third, and Joe was the catcher. Ben never did show for the game, so one of Mark’s friends filled in. Des hadn’t ever really been part of a sports team, so all the hooting, hollering, and trash-talking was a bit disconcerting at first. She struck out every time she came up to bat, to the point where the opposing team applauded when she walked to the plate with the bat over her shoulder. She found it liberating to laugh at herself, as if celebrating her shortcomings with a group of friends was a good time.
Of course, they were all Seth’s friends—most were Barney’s friends as well—but everyone offered that same friendship to Des. She held babies while their mothers pitched horseshoes or served cake, tied shoelaces for toddlers, flipped burgers, and complimented everyone on the dishes they’d brought to share. As for the food itself, she’d never seen so much in the same place. Seth had borrowed folding tables from several of his friends to hold all the dishes that had been brought, and even at that, there were bowls waiting in the refrigerator for space on the tables. She’d never have imagined there were so many ways to make potato salad, from the classic mayo and celery to salads made with purple and gold potatoes, salads with bacon or hard-cooked eggs—several with both. There were mountains of macaroni salad, platters of roasted vegetables sprinkled with balsamic vinaigrette (which Des had noticed Cara went back to several times), salads with mixed greens, plates piled with sliced tomatoes, and several green bean salads. Des had been tempted to sample a little of this and a little of that, and at the end of the day, she had to admit she’d never tasted better food.
“I told you it would all work out just fine,” Seth told her after most of the guests had left to head into town for the fireworks display, leaving behind a small cleanup crew consisting of Joe and Cara, Mark, his sister, a few of their friends, and Nikki.
“You did. I have to admit having had a few minutes of panic now and then. It just seemed like such an overwhelming number of people.”
“Yeah, we had quite a crowd.”
“I was surprised by how many people I actually knew,” she said. “People I’ve seen around town and people I’ve met in passing with Barney. Everyone knew about the theater and asked when it would be open again.”
“Think that’ll ever happen?” He was tying off a large plastic bag filled with discarded paper plates.
“I don’t know. I’d like to think that someday, someone will take it over. Buy it from us, maybe.” Des hadn’t really wanted to think about what would happen to the Sugarhouse once they’d done their part.
“Could you do that?” He paused. “Sell it to a stranger and just walk away?”
She had no answer, so she simply shrugged and went inside on the pretext of cleaning up in the kitchen, which she and Cara had already done.
Most of the cleanup completed, the crew took off. Seth brought in the dogs—exhausted after endless games of Frisbee and fetch—and locked up the house. They rode the bike into town, and once at the field, Des sat on a blanket on the lawn between Seth and Joe, leaning against Seth’s strong chest, and watched spectacular fireworks overhead. They ooh’d and ahh’d as each display lit up the night sky, and flinched every time a rocket went off with a bang.
“Just like Devlin’s Light,” Cara said. “Except the fireworks are going over the field instead of the Delaware Bay.”
“Best display yet,” Joe proclaimed once the show was over.
“We say that every year, bro,” Seth reminded him.
“Every year it’s true,” Joe said.
Des and Seth returned to Hudson Street and settled into a lounge in the backyard together.
“So. Your first Hidden Falls Fourth of July. Your thoughts?” Seth asked.
“Best day ever.” Des relaxed back in his arms. “I’m exhausted. It was like living three or four days in one.”
“We’ll have to do it again next year.”
“Right. This having been the First Annual MacLeod Farm Fourth of July Bash.”
“You’ll be there?” he asked tentatively.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Ever.” The thought that in time, another woman might be playing hostess crossed her mind, and she shooed it away. She couldn’t think about that now, not when Seth’s arms were around her, his breath soft against her forehead, the many moments of their shared day yet to be relived.
“I can’t even tell you how much you being there meant to me,” he was saying.
“I’m a good second in command.”
“It wasn’t just that, and you know it. It felt right, you being with me. This is my life, Des. My farm, my family, my community. It meant a lot to me that you shared it with me.”
She wanted to say how much sharing it meant to her, too, but she couldn’t find the words that wouldn’t sound like a promise she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep.
Instead, she said, “Hey, I had a great time. Best birthday party I ever had.”
“You didn’t tell me your birthday was today.” He sat up, his forehead creasing as he frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, it’s not really until Saturday, but close enough. And this was like the biggest party anyone ever had. It was almost overwhelming. My head was spinning like that girl in The Exorcist.”
“Why’d you have to put that movie in my head?” Seth covered his eyes. “I had nightmares for years after I saw that. Didn’t even stay till the end. Ran out of the theater screaming like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum.”
“You did not.” She laughed softly at the visual image that flashed through her mind.
“Ask Joe. Or Ben.” Seth paused. “I’m still wondering what happened to Ben today. He never did show up at the farm. I tried to call him a couple of times but he didn’t pick up, didn’t respond to any of my texts, either.”
“Maybe there was some kind of police emergency. Maybe an accident or something,” she suggested.
“That would make sense. He probably worked at least one shift today since it was a holiday and I know he likes to give his guys days off when he can. He didn’t mention it this morning when I asked him if he’d be at the farm, though.”
“I thought I saw him at one point at the field when one of those big rockets went off, but it was just for a second, and he was gone. If it was him.” Des glanced at the house, where the only lights were in the kitchen and Barney’s room upstairs. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see Allie, either.”
“That’s a really strange coincidence,” he noted.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation. In the meantime, want to come in?”
“I’ll take a rain check. I want to get home, let the dogs out one last time, then fall face-first into bed. I’ve got chickens to feed in the morning and a bunch of stuff to pick to take into Clarks Summit to a friend’s restaurant first thing. And I know you’re tired. You worked your tail off today.”
“I did, but it was totally worth it. Your first party was a huge success.”
“I don’t know that I can wait till next year for another one. Maybe we should start thinking about Octoberfest. Or Halloween. Or—”
“Stop.” She laughed. “Let me recover from this one first.”
She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, and she smiled when she felt what she’d come to think of as a little zing in the pit of her stomach.
“Are you smiling?” He leaned back and observed. “You are smiling. I never heard of anyone smiling and kissing at the same time.”
“I’m smiling because kissing you makes me happy. If it bothers you, I’ll try to stop.”
“Are you kidding? That’s the cutest thing I ever saw. Let’s see if I can make you smile again.”
“Betcha can.”
“Bet I can.”
He did.
“Keep the weekend open for me,” he told her as he was leaving. “We’ll celebrate your birthday.”
Des lay upon the quilt that covered her bed, images from the day running through her brain like a film on fast-forward she was unable to slow down. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she told Seth she’d been overwhelmed. Every one of her senses had seemed to be hyperaware. Everything had seemed more vivid, every sensation more intense. The people, the chatter, the laughter. The food. The music. The games. The scents wafting from the grill and from the clover field near the orchard and the various bouquets of flowers guests brought for the tables.
More than once during the day she’d stopped to look around, wondering if the mysterious J was in the crowd, if she’d been part of the crowd that had stood on the sidewalk as Barney drove Lucille through the town, or if she was at Seth’s that afternoon, maybe one of the many women she’d met and shared idle chatter with. She couldn’t help but wonder who the woman was. It shouldn’t have mattered—she knew that—but it was in her head and she couldn’t seem to shake it out.
On a whim, Des got up and turned on the light, then opened her laptop. Assuming J would be around Fritz’s age, she might have been born between, say, 1948 and 1952. She went to a search engine and typed. Within seconds she had a list of popular baby girl names for the late 1940s through the early 1950s. She glanced over the list and found little variations for those four years: Judith and Judy, Joann and Joanne, Jean and Jeanne, Joyce, Janice, Janet, Jane, Jo, and Jacqueline, the popularity of which she attributed to so many Americans having made the trip to France after the Second World War and becoming enamored of all things French. But nothing stood out as a name she’d heard that day.
She turned off the laptop just as she heard giggling from the room across the hall. Praying that it wasn’t a drunk Allie giggling to herself, she went across the hall and peered in through the open door. Allie and Nikki sat on the bed, Nikki relating a story Mark had told that afternoon.
“I’m sorry you weren’t feeling well enough to come out to the farm. It was the best party I ever went to,” Nikki was saying. “I have never had so much fun in my life.”
“What did you do that was so much fun?” Allie asked quietly.
“Everything. We played baseball. I got to play in the outfield with Aunt Des. Mom, I love her, but she was terrible. She couldn’t catch the ball and she couldn’t hit it.”
“Sad but true.” Des was smiling when she came into the room. “Is this a private party?”
“Aunt Des, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” Nikki looked totally chagrined.
“Not to worry, pumpkin. Every word was true. I suck at team sports.” Without waiting for Allie’s invitation, Des sat at the end of the bed. “Cara, on the other hand . . .”
“Aunt Cara was awesome. She hit a home run.”
“She hit two home runs,” Des corrected her. “And she was awesome.”
“So what else was so much fun that it was the best party you ever went to?” Allie prodded.
“I learned how to throw horseshoes—that’s sort of a game—and I learned how to row a boat. There’s a little pond out by the woods and I swung on a rope over the water, but I didn’t jump in. Some of the other kids did, though.”
Allie toyed with Nikki’s hair while they chatted, and while Allie appeared to be totally present, there was something almost foreign in her expression.
“Oh, and I ate like—I hate to say this about myself, but I ate like a little piggy. I ate all day long.” Nikki began to run down the list on her fingers. “I had a burger. I had a piece of chicken. I had roasted carrots and potato salad that had green beans cut up in it, and I had regular salad, for like, fiber. Then I had strawberry shortcake. Oh, and a cupcake. I gained five pounds today, I just know it.”
“I’m amazed you didn’t throw up, all that eating and rope swinging and tossing horseshoes.”
“I know, Mom, right?” Nikki yawned.
“Nik,” Des said, “could it be you’re actually running out of energy?”
She nodded. “I’m going to bed. Besides, Mom was sick and she should be sleeping.” Nikki kissed first her mother, then her aunt, then stumbled on her way to her room.
“She’ll be asleep by the time her head hits the pillow.”
“I’m sure. Isn’t that your cue to follow suit?” Allie leaned back against her pillow.
“Not until you tell me why you didn’t come to Seth’s.”
“Since when do I answer to you?”
“Since you were visibly upset after that thing with Ben in the park. Since I’m still your sister and I love you.”
“How could you? I’m not a nice person, Des.”
“Sometimes that’s true, but not always.” Des moved closer to Allie and put her arms around her. “You’re my sister, and I love you. I always will, Al.”
“I’ve been so mean to you,” Allie reminded her.
“True. You have—and I love you in spite of it.”
“You heard what I said to Ben today.” Allie began to cry. “Talk about being insensitive.”
“You didn’t say it, Allie. You caught yourself before the words came out.”
“But he knew what I’d been going to say. He knew, and it hurt him. Of course it hurt him, his only son—his only child—died.” Fat tears ran down her face. “Oh, Des, that little boy was so adorable. And he had this beautiful tiny little smile and the biggest eyes. It’s wrong that he died.”
Des sat back and stared at Allie. “Wait. How would you know what he looked like? That accident happened long before we moved to Hidden Falls.”
“I saw his picture.” She sniffed and reached for another tissue from the box on the bedside table.
“Where?”
“On Ben’s mantel.”
“Okay. Do I have to ask, or are you going to tell me why you were in Ben’s house?”
“Apartment. And I went there to apologize.”
“Allie, that was very big of you. I’m sure he appreciated—”
Allie’s laugh was harsh. “Yeah, right, after he ripped me a new one, he showed his appreciation by showing me the door. He called me several names, which I would not repeat in front of my daughter, and when I told him how terrible I felt, he accused me of making it all about me. About how bad I felt, about how sorry I was.” She brushed away the tears. “Well, of course I felt terrible, and of course I was sorry. I couldn’t even find the words to tell him how sorry I was.”
“So I’m guessing he didn’t accept your apology.”
“Showed me the door. After he showed me the picture of his son. It was one of the worst moments of my life.”
“So you shut yourself in and drank all afternoon?”
“What?” Allie sat up straight. “No. I didn’t drink at all. I just couldn’t face anyone. I felt like everyone could tell just by looking at me that I’m an insensitive bitch.” She drew an imaginary B on her forehead. “I know everyone hates me now. I hate me now.”
“Al, no one hates you. Sweetie, I’m so sorry. God knows you have your moments, but I know you would never deliberately hurt anyone because of something like that. So I guess you left it—”
“With me leaving and Ben slamming the door behind me.” Allie covered her face with her hands. “If you could have seen the look on his face when he opened the door and saw it was me. Like I was the most loathsome creature. You’re right, I have had my moments, but I’ve never felt as ashamed of myself as I felt standing in that man’s living room looking at a photo of his beautiful dead son.” She started to cry again. “God, what that man went through, losing his wife and his baby boy. I can’t even imagine how you live with something like that. And there I was, reminding him . . .”
“Look, maybe in time, he’ll come to realize you didn’t mean to hurt him, that you didn’t think. Maybe in time he’ll get over it.”
“I doubt it. I wouldn’t.” She blew her nose. “And I wouldn’t forgive me, either. Here’s the thing about Ben. There’s always been this sort of weird vibe—I know you’ve noticed it, everyone has. I don’t know why, but we set each other off. He thinks I did this because, hey, just one more way to tweak his nose.”
“No way would he think that.”
“He does. He said so.” She blew her nose again. “ ‘Nice, princess. Guess you told me, right? Way to get in the last word.’ ”
“He did not say that.”
“He did. Those were his words. That’s how low he thinks I am.” The tears began to fall again. “And maybe I am.”
“You’re not, Al.”
Allie pulled the sheet up around her abruptly. “I want to go to sleep. Could you hit the overhead light on your way out?”
Des hesitated before pushing off the bed. “I know it seems like it now, but this will pass.”
“I know you’re trying to be a good sister, and you are. I may not always act like it, but I do love you, Des. Even when I was a bitch to you, I still loved you.” Allie turned her back to the wall. “Now good night.”
Des opened her mouth, but realizing there was nothing more to be said, turned off the light and went back to her room.
As exhausted as she was, sleep wouldn’t come. The day had been too full. At two in the morning, she got up and turned on the shower, hoping a steady stream of hot water would help. When it hadn’t, she dried her hair, slipped into a nightshirt and her robe, and went downstairs into Barney’s sitting room, where she curled up on the love seat. Buttons followed, jumped up next to her, and they both finally fell asleep.