Hidden Deep (33 page)

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Authors: Amy Patrick

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Urban, #Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology

BOOK: Hidden Deep
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Trying not to focus on the fact that I would live the rest of my life without love.

I read the words of his life-giving message over and over. At least Nox didn’t seem furious at me. The thought of it lifted my spirits, giving me hope. I would find him at the ballpark tonight and apologize, ask if we could start over and be friends again.

The bell jangled as The Skillet’s door opened. I looked up from wiping a table to see Nox stroll in. Dropping my towel on the tabletop, I hurried over to him, mentally rehearsing my speech.

“Hi. Listen, can I—” The words died on my lips as Savannah Ford, as in cheerleader-Homecoming court-class-beauty-Savannah Ford, followed Nox into the diner. My gaze lowered to their joined hands. I’d never had a problem with Savannah, but she was never one of my close friends either. Apparently she was one of his now.

Stopping right inside the doorway, he pulled her close and gave her a kiss that could’ve fried all the eggs in The Skillet’s breakfast orders. Then he moved an apathetic gaze over me and raised one eyebrow.

“Yeah, Rye?”

Savannah suddenly noticed my existence and smiled like we were best friends—I guess when you’re walking around in a cloud of pheromones, everyone’s your buddy. “Hi Ryann!”

“Hi,” I answered through a throat dry as unbuttered toast.

Nox kept his eyes trained on me, daring me to object or react in any way. Stammering and blushing ferociously seemed to be the best I could do.

“Uh… table for two?”

“Yes. We’ll take this one.” Savannah flounced past me heading for a round two-top near the front window and pulling Nox behind her. “Come on, sweetie.”

“Okay fine,” I mumbled to no one in particular. I walked over to the counter where Dory was working and asked to go on break. Before going to hide in the employee break room, I peeked back over my shoulder at Nox and Savannah. She was studying a menu, chattering happily.

He was looking straight at me.

And so began two weeks of unadulterated hell. I reminded myself forty times a day that I’d done the right thing. In both situations. I believed it was true, but the fact that both Nox and Lad were better off without me was beyond depressing. Lad was gone. Nox didn’t want to be friends—he wanted to punish me—and I probably deserved it.

Emmy was moving forward with her plans to go to Los Angeles, and she’d forbidden me to say a word against it. And the clock continued to tick toward the day the IRS would take Grandma’s home—our home—and land away. There seemed to be no solutions for any of it.

Just as I had after my parents’ separation, I kept on keeping on. I went to work, I saw my friends. I didn’t even try to date, though. It was way too sad.

Grandma Neena was the only person I could talk to honestly. We were running errands before heading home to share an exciting Friday night of microwave popcorn and
Friends
. I wasn’t up to going out tonight.

“Is it ever going to stop hurting?”

“I can’t say it ever goes away entirely.” She reached over and patted my back gently. “But it does get easier to live with. I think when you truly love someone, a piece of you stays with them forever. But you’re very young, and there’s a lot of life and love left for you. Someday you’ll meet someone else who’s special to you. When you do, you’ll be able to share the piece of your heart that doesn’t belong to Lad.”

I appreciated what she was trying to do, but I suspected the part left over might be too infinitesimal for anyone else to bother with. My cell rang. I looked down to check the screen—Mom—no doubt calling to say good-bye. She was heading to Atlanta for the weekend. At first, she’d been happy I’d broken up with Lad, but I knew she was getting more and more alarmed at my mood.

“Are you going to be okay? Want me to call Davis and tell him I can’t make it this weekend? I wouldn’t mind. Really. I’d rather stay here with you, if you need me.”

“No, Mom. Don’t worry. I’m fine. Grandma’s here, and you and Davis need to go ahead and get everything worked out.” I put on the happiest voice I could manage.

She and Davis would be having “the discussion” this weekend. My father had accepted the job at Ole Miss and was living in an apartment in Oxford, making it easy for him to drop in on us frequently. Anytime Mom happened to be around, he made it obvious he’d jump at a second chance with her.

It had her constantly shifting between states of annoyance and nostalgic longing. She was clearly still attached to my dad, but then she’d talk to Davis and be all swoony over him. I didn’t know what to think. She’d promised to consider it seriously and not leave them hanging on indefinitely. I expected her to come home from Atlanta Sunday night with either an engagement ring or an announcement that she was taking my dad back, and I had no clue which one it would be.

“Well, I’m only a phone call away,” she said. “You call me if you need anything. I’ll turn around and come right back.”

“Okay. Have fun and be safe.”

“Oh, wait—Ryann—could you and Grandma do me a favor? I forgot to do it before leaving town. Go by Rooney’s and pick up some flowers for the Douglas family’s visitation tonight. Their daughter Allison died out in Los Angeles. They just got her back here today. Such a shame, a beautiful young girl. I don’t think you met her—she was a good bit older. I feel bad about not being there tonight, but… Ryann? Can you hear me?”

“Uh, yeah. Okay, I’ll do it. Bye Mom.” My chest couldn’t have felt worse if the airbag had deployed and hit me full force. Allison Douglas—the girl from Deep River who’d been
lucky
enough to get into a glamorous fan pod. That was it. I had to stop Emmy from going. She was scheduled to leave for L.A. in a week.

I picked up my phone and dialed her but got her voicemail. Before I could even put the phone back in my purse, it rang again. I expected to see that Emmy was calling me back, but it wasn’t her number.

“It’s a Deep River number, but I don’t recognize it,” I told Grandma. “Hello?”

The caller identified himself as Heath Marston, the manager of Food Star, and said he had some news for me. He asked if I was sitting down.

“I hope you are because you might not believe this. I tasted your tea all right, young lady. You weren’t kidding. It really is something special. I contacted our corporate office in Memphis the same day about striking a deal with you to market your tea line at our store, and they instructed me to send them what I had on hand that night. Well, I did it. You need to come on by the store to hear the rest. Can you do that?”

My head was spinning. So much was happening so fast. “Yes sir. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Luckily nothing was more than five minutes away in the town of Deep River. The way my heart was hammering, I might not have lasted much longer. Grandma drove us to the Food Star and went in with me. Mr. Marston led the way to his office, which was one floor above the store aisles with a large picture window overlooking the meat section. He invited us to sit across from his desk in bright yellow molded plastic chairs with metal legs. He sat back, smiled, and continued delivering the unlikely news.

“Well, like I said, I sent your sample up to corporate. They loved it. They lab-tested it. I don’t know how you did it Miss Carroll, but apparently your tea is loaded with calcium, potassium, manganese…” He glanced down at the report on his desk. “… magnesium, phosphorus, iron, vitamins B2, B5, B6, niacin, biotin, protein, folic acid, fifty-four polyphenols, and somehow has an impossibly low calorie-count.” He threw his hands up in a happy-baffled gesture. “They’re not sure if we should market it as a dieter’s dream come true or the ultimate health food product. And here’s the best part—are you ready?”

I nodded, already wondering how I’d meet the demands of a grocery store on top of what I made daily for The Skillet.

“They want to stock your tea in
all
their stores. Do you know how big that is, Miss Carroll? That’s a hundred and ten stores across the Southeast. And it’s just the beginning. If it takes off, they want to develop the brand to market nationwide.”

Thank God I was sitting down. “Wow.” I had trouble making the word audible. “This is unbelievable. I don’t know what to say. Thank you Mr. Marston.”

“Thank
you
. The head honchos at Food Star think you have a winning product on your hands, and they don’t want you to get away. Of course, I got some pretty good kudos for discovering you.” He grinned widely. “Now… you’ve got some work to do. They want you up and running in four months, working in an approved facility, ready to provide product to all their stores. Can you do that?” He looked at me and then at Grandma, seeking some adult assurance of my competence, I guess. She nodded her head, beaming.

“Yes sir,” I said.

I had no idea how I’d manage it, actually. But I knew I
would
do it. I had to. It was our answer. Lad’s gift combined with my hard work might be enough to save my family’s land and his home as well.

“Well, now here’s the contract. There’s some mighty big numbers on this little piece of paper. You know any lawyers, Ryann?”

“Yes sir. Lee Porter,” I said, naming Mom’s divorce attorney.

“Good. You have him take a look at it, make sure you’re happy, and then let’s do some business together. Sound good?”

“Sure does, Mr. Marston.” I stood and shook his hand. Grandma did the same. “Thank you again, sir. You won’t be disappointed,” I said.

“I know that, Ryann, not if you keep making tea like you do, and it sells like we expect it to. Hey, what are you gonna call your company?”

I didn’t even need to think it over. “Magnolia Sugar. Magnolia Sugar Tea Company.”

When I climbed into the passenger seat and looked over at Grandma Neena, I felt a genuine smile emerging for the first time in weeks. “Well, we’re in business.”

We both stared at the contract in my hands. It was enough to get my company started. It was enough to pay off the IRS debt. It was a way for me to take care of myself in the future so I’d never have to depend on anyone else. Grandma drove straight to the lawyer’s office, and I left the contract with his secretary. On the way to the flower shop, my mind flew faster than my mouth could follow.

“Okay, I’ll need supplies—pots—big ones, mixers, containers, boxes, labels, a delivery truck, workers. It’s going to take huge amounts of raw ingredients… oh my goodness, Grandma…” I glanced over and saw the realization hit her as well. “I have to tell Lad. His people have to know there’s no need for them to leave their home now. Grandma, do you think you could find Altum again?”

She huffed indignantly, but then she broke into a grin, and her blue eyes sparkled. “I may be out of practice, but I
am
still an Elf.”

“He won’t exactly be glad to see me again,” I said.

“I won’t be the most welcome visitor, either.”

“Well, we have to tell them—there’s no choice—and we can’t exactly call them up. For this plan to even work, I’ll need a steady supply of saol water to make the tea. The Elves will agree, knowing what’s at stake, won’t they? I want to tell them right away. Can we go in the morning?”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

Already, I was filled with anxiety over the prospect of seeing Lad. On one hand, I was shamefully eager just to look at him once more. On the other, I was dreading the way he would undoubtedly look at me. He’d had plenty of time by now to get over the shock of our last conversation and be well on his way to hating me.

It didn’t matter. I had to find him and somehow hold myself together long enough to tell him what his people needed to know. Afterward when I was alone, I’d deal with the re-opened wound of being close to him again and walking away. Again.

I called my mom, who was still on the road, to tell her the amazing news. She gave me the screaming, joyful reaction I’d expected. I tried Emmy again. No answer. Then I sat staring out the windshield with the phone in my hand, debating about who else to call. That’s when it hit me. I’d gotten exactly what I’d wanted—financial independence. But it felt like a hollow victory.

I could share this information with Lad, for the sake of his people. But I couldn’t share the
moment
with him—not the way I wanted to. Together, we had saved both our homes, but
we
weren’t together anymore. I was safe now, but essentially alone.

It took a long time to fall asleep. I woke again and again from dreams where Lad looked at me with hard, cold eyes and ordered me out of his home, and from an even more painful one where he told me he loved me and asked me to stay. I wondered if Grandma Neena was having any more luck trying to sleep, knowing she’d be returning to Altum tomorrow for the first time in more than forty years.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Back to Altum

 

 

We set out in late morning. Naturally, Grandma didn’t move through the woods the way Lad did, but she was sure-footed and confidently followed an internal compass toward her childhood home. I kept up, trying to plan what I’d say to Lad when I saw him. Every time I thought about it my heart squeezed painfully.

“How are you doing?” I asked Grandma after we’d hiked for a while.

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