Here in My Heart: A Novella (Echoes of the Heart) (9 page)

Before she could answer, the back door to the employee parking lot jingled open. They sprang apart as Sally rushed inside, Lisa tagging along behind her the way Travis had said the girl often did.

Travis had filled Brad in on how involved Dru had been, settling Lisa in at the Dixons’ home—including encouraging Sally to invite Lisa along on Saturday mornings, if Sally kept the younger girl out of trouble and out of the way in the kitchen.

At the moment, Dru looked desperate to shoo both kids away.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Sally said.

She hurried to the apron rack beside the enormous refrigerator, looped one off its peg and over her neck, wrapping the long, frayed strings twice around her waist before tying them behind her. She grabbed another for Lisa and repeated the process, the younger girl’s hem nearly grazing the ground.

“Our water heater gave out this morning,” Sally chattered on. “There’s water all over our garage. I was helping my mom and dad bail us out before everything got soaked. We lost track of time.”

“It’s okay,” Dru said as Sally headed for the bushels of locally grown potatoes the Dream Whip cut into fresh homemade fries. Lisa followed at her heels, glancing at Brad and Dru over her shoulder. “We still have time to—”

“I could help out this morning—” Brad interrupted, directing his offer to Sally. “If your parents still need you at home. When I was your age, I peeled and cut my weight in potatoes every week.” He nodded in the direction of the manual french-fry cutter bolted into the wall above one of the stainless-steel counters. “Doesn’t look like the technology’s changed a bit.”

Dru’s eyes narrowed. “The fries here have been fresh-cut since the day your grandfather opened the Whip. People still travel from everywhere to buy a bucket, drench them in malt vinegar, and see how much ketchup they can consume while they devour every crumb. Why would we change anything?”

“Hey, I’m a true believer. You’d know that, if I hadn’t had to avoid this place for most of the last seven years to keep from ticking you off.”

Dru was close again, close enough for him to smell the same strawberry shampoo she’d used when they’d been kids. It was maddening how much he wanted to keep smelling her, to reach out and touch her.

“Feel free to tick me off anytime you want.” She glared up at him. “It’s not like I’ve wasted a second of my life wondering whether you’d grace this place with your presence, the two times a year you’ve actually make it back to town.”

“Then how do you know it’s only been two times a year?”

He caught Sally’s snicker.

He tried and failed to stifle his own.

Dru homed in on her young employee. Sally made herself busy piling up a bin of potatoes and hefting them to the sink for the scrubbing they needed before they went through the cutter.

“I hear things,” Dru said more quietly. “Everyone in Chandlerville hears things, whether they want to or not. I can’t help it if people gossip with me when they place their orders.”

She inhaled. Her soft chest pressed against his. She stepped away, looking as shocked by the contact as he’d felt. While she fought to control her breathing, he filed away a note to piss her off as often as possible. Then he mentally smacked himself upside the head.

Pushing Dru’s buttons, tempting her to fight with him enough that she might one day forgive him, wasn’t why he was there. Nor were her feelings for him, or how much more he wanted her today than he had when she’d told him off in the YMCA lobby.

She braced her hands on her hips and stared down at her pink sneakers. She’d always loved pink, smelled pink, blushed pink when he’d made her laugh or teased her. He hadn’t seen the color in seven years without missing her.

He backed up, giving them both room.

He had to get out of there.

“Think about what I said.” He headed for the door to the back parking lot. When he turned around, she wasn’t watching him leave, but she wasn’t pummeling hamburgers again, either. “Forget about me. Do this for Vi. Do this for yourself.”

“Do they really hate each other?” Lisa asked Sally.

They were in the Dream Whip dining room, restocking the napkin holders instead of washing and cutting potatoes. Dru had asked them to, after she’d finished fighting with Officer Douglas and he’d left. Only the grown-ups hadn’t wanted Lisa and Sally to know they were fighting, and Dru had made it sound like nothing was wrong.

“I heard someone at the Y last night,” Lisa said, “say they’ve hated each other since they were in high school, and Officer Douglas did something bad and had to run away.”

“He didn’t run away.” Sally pulled another wad of napkins from the big bunch she’d dug out of the storage room. She handed them over. “I heard it was Dru’s older brother, Oliver, who left. Except he didn’t run. The Dixons made him go. But Officer Douglas left town, too. And Oliver’s girlfriend. No one knows what it was all about, it was so long ago. No one in this town knows what anything’s really about.”

“That makes Oliver my older brother, too, right?” Lisa asked. “My foster brother, anyway, just like he’s Dru’s?”

Like their foster brother Travis, at the sheriff’s department.

And Oliver had gotten into so much trouble, he’d had to run away, or leave, or whatever. Just like Lisa kept getting into trouble wherever she went.

It had been so cool at her radKIDS graduation having everyone be so nice to her. But even after last night, she knew the kids in her class at school still wouldn’t want her around. Not when she was noisy again, or got into trouble again.

People thought she was weird, even the other foster kids at the Dixon house, when she couldn’t sleep at night and kept them up doing whatever she could in the dark, but still making too much noise. And she kept bringing notes home from her teacher for Mr. and Mrs. Dixon to sign, because she’d broken more class rules: blurting out questions, not keeping her hands and her things to herself, not staying in her seat, not being quiet even when she had silent lunch because she was in trouble for talking too much in class.

Her foster parents had known about her problems with school when they got her. Foster parents always thought they knew everything. They’d read her file. The people at the county had told them about the other homes Lisa had been in. But the Dixons had had her for months now. She could feel them sometimes not liking her—or not liking the things she did, Mrs. Dixon said. How long would it take for her to do something so bad she couldn’t stay with them, like Oliver hadn’t?

“Do Officer Douglas and Dru really hate each other?” Lisa asked again.

She liked Dru a lot. Dru was always nice to her. She didn’t think Dru could hate anybody, especially Officer Douglas. He’d been so cool last night.

Sally shrugged. “I think they really like each other.”

“I heard they were fighting at the YMCA yesterday, in the hall before radKIDS.”

“Sometimes people don’t like it when they like each other too much. So they fight.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Sally said, all grown-up-sounding.

Sometimes she confused Lisa more than the adults did.

“Don’t you and Cade Perry fight all the time at school?” Lisa asked her.

“So?”

Sally and Cade were like the most popular kids at Chandler Middle. They’d been boyfriend and girlfriend when they’d been at the elementary school, too.

“So,” Lisa said, “is that like Dru and Officer Douglas fighting in the kitchen? You know, how when you and Cade aren’t kissing each other at lunch, you get mad over stupid stuff? That’s what I heard, from one of the girls in my class. Her sister goes to middle school, too.”

“No.” Sally looked mad. She’d never looked at Lisa like that before. “Cade and I don’t fight
all
the time. What do you know, anyway? Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“No.” Lisa shrugged. “Well, sorta . . .”

If she counted a friend online she’d never met and probably never would.

“So,” Sally said, “stop talking about stuff you don’t understand. Lisa and Officer Douglas and Cade and me.” She headed back to the kitchen, leaving Lisa behind. “I have potatoes to cut. Go home when you’re done with the napkins.”

The kitchen door shut behind Sally before Lisa could say she was sorry. She’d messed something up again. All she’d meant to do was ask a question, but she’d said too much, just like always. She never knew when people wanted her to stop talking until it was too late and they were already mad at her. She looked down at the napkins and tried not to care that maybe Sally didn’t want to be her friend anymore.

No one ever wanted to be her friend for long.

Lisa threw the napkins to the ground and ran out of the Dream Whip, racing down the street toward the Dixons’ house, even though it was a long way away and Mrs. Dixon was supposed to pick her up in an hour. If Lisa made it back to the house early, she’d maybe be able to score some extra computer time with Matthew.

He never got mad at her. He was in her same grade, but at a different school. He never treated Lisa like she was stupid or annoying. He’d never stop being her friend. She ran faster.

He’d said last time that his parents might drive him over from Atlanta one day. That he wanted to meet her. She’d said no. Everyone said kids should say no when someone online asked them to meet, that there were a lot of bad people online who hurt kids. But not Matthew.

Not that she was going to meet him, not anytime soon, anyway. Even if he’d meant what he said, even if his parents really would drive all this way, it was Thanksgiving next week. She’d never be able to get away by herself over a holiday. But she could talk to him about it, say yes, and dream about having a real friend like him, who understood how hard it was for her to act right, because he had ADHD and had to try as hard as she did not to mess up the rules.

“She’s sleeping as comfortably as can be expected,” said Vivian’s floor nurse at Harmony Grove.

Dru had called the center as soon as she’d closed the Dream Whip and driven home to the Douglas house.

“Her grandson spent most of the afternoon here,” the nurse continued. “He left for a while so she could rest—to meet up with her oncologist at the hospital, I heard him say to Ms. Vivian’s hospice coordinator—and then he sat with her while she had some dinner. Last night took a lot out of her. She’s not resting more than a few hours at a time these days. Her team’s talking about upping her meds, but she’s still telling them she wants to wait.”

Dru nodded her head.

Can the bullshit, Dru.

She’d meant to stop by and see Vivian once the dinner rush slowed and the counter staff had things under control. She could have trusted them to close the place up tight. But she’d have run into Brad. Travis had stopped by the restaurant and had just talked with Brad, who’d been returning to Harmony Grove from the hospital.

“I’ll be by in the morning for breakfast,” she said to the nurse. “Let her know for me, please, if she wakes up before I get there.”

“You know I will. You’re so sweet to spend so much time with her. Don’t you worry. We’ll take good care of Ms. Vivian.”

Everyone Dru had met at Harmony Grove would. She’d never doubted that, even as challenging as Vivian could be at times, wanting things her own way. The palliative care the center provided gave Vi choices she wouldn’t have at a hospital. A doctor’s goal was to prolong life for as long as possible. When a terminal case was transferred to hospice, the focus shifted to quality of life, for as long as that could be preserved.

Vivian had lived a good life. At ninety-one, she’d lived a long life. And she’d embraced the chance to control as much as she could how that life would end. Dru was grateful for each good day Vi’s compassionate hospice team could give her. And Dru would be there to visit her friend in the morning, just as soon as she settled things with Brad.

She could have headed straight for Marsha and Joe’s for another night. But avoiding Brad again would only delay the inevitable. At least he hadn’t been waiting for her at the Douglas house. She had a little more time before he got home to collect her thoughts.

The doorbell rang. Her stomach did a nosedive. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. How could she possibly feel so nauseous? She walked toward the door and yanked it open, wondering why Brad would bother knocking.