Lessons Learned (34 page)

“You’ll love New York in the springtime.”

“We could have used some time away from this place,” I muttered.

Spring Break was just too far away, although you wouldn’t know it by the weather outside our window. While his parents were braving a blizzard, our temperatures were now hovering in the fifties.

“Mountain weather is so strange,” Lucas said as we watched our local forecast. The rest of the week was much of the same—scattered rain showers and above normal temperatures.

“We had a white Christmas,” I reminded him.

He was actually pouting, and I giggled at the wounded expression on his face. I grabbed the remote and turned off the depressing weather forecast before climbing into his lap. His pout turned into a sexy smirk when I wiggled against him.

“Marry me,” he said softly, nuzzling my cheek.

“I already said yes.”

“Actually, you didn’t,” Lucas muttered, trying so hard to sound serious. “You just
nodded.
”

He was right. A nod was all I’d been capable of in the moment. Smiling, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself closer to his chest.

“Yes,” I whispered against his lips.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

A soft, contented smile crept across his face. “Today?”

“Now, you’re pushing it. Your mother would kill us both.”

“That’s true,” he admitted with a sigh. “Do you have a date in mind?”

“Eager, Mr. Miller?”

“Slightly.”

“Hmm.” I really hadn’t thought much about setting a date. Of course, we’d only been engaged a few days. I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t think Lucas would want a long engagement. “Maybe June?”

He smiled. “I like June. Do you want a church wedding?”

I shook my head. “Not unless you do. I think I want it outdoors.”

“We could get married here,” Lucas suggested, his arms tightening around me. “Right in the front yard.”

Suddenly, I had an idea. “What about at the falls?”

His face brightened, and we spent the next hour discussing wedding plans. We just wanted a small ceremony, overlooking the falls, surrounded by our closest family and friends.

I had a brief pang of sadness when I thought of my parents and grandma, but Lucas reminded me his family was now mine, and I’d never be alone again.

The New Year came and went, and before I could blink, school was back in session. The news of our engagement was thankfully overshadowed by talk of college acceptance letters, and the entire month of January was filled with excited seniors announcing which schools they’d been admitted, and which colleges were offering the best scholarships. The local community college in Winslow always offered scholarships to the top ten percent of our graduating class, but seniors with big dreams and unrealistic expectations rarely gave the little college a second glance.

I could relate, because once upon a time, I’d been one of those students.

“Community college is for people who can’t get accepted to a real school,” Carrie said as she breezed into the room. “Or for people who can’t afford to go anywhere else.”

Howie turned to me. “How many schools did you get accepted to, Miss Bray?”

“Three,” I replied, leaning against my desk. My answer caused a few raised eyebrows and a lot of hushed whispers.

“How many did you
apply
to?” Carrie wondered.

“Three.”

My reply began a discussion about how many schools everyone had applied to, and that’s when I realized college acceptance was a competition to these kids.
How many schools did you get accepted to?
I’d heard the question all week, not realizing our kids were in serious competition with each other over something ridiculous.

Didn’t they have enough pressure? Did they really need to add more stress to their lives?

“I applied to Memphis, North Carolina, and Winslow Community College.”

A few of the students rolled their eyes at the mention of the little school.

“What a lot of you need to understand is it doesn’t matter how many schools you’re accepted to. You need to find one that’s a good fit for you, not to mention, the one you can afford. I was just like you. I wanted as far away from Sycamore Falls as I could possibly get, so when Memphis offered me a full scholarship, I jumped at the chance. However, don’t discount Winslow just because it’s a community college. You can always transfer later, and sometimes, a smaller school is a better option for you. It just depends on what you need.”

Needless to say, we didn’t write in creative writing that day.

I was still thinking about my seniors when I arrived at Matt’s later in the afternoon. As I walked toward the porch, I noticed his mother sitting on her porch swing. Her eyes were tortured and hard, and my stomach dropped.

“Debbie, what’s wrong?”

Suddenly, I could hear screams coming from inside the house.

“Matt wasn’t accepted to Florida State,” she whispered weakly. “His . . .
altercation
with Patrick caused the admissions office to take another look at his application. We’ve been on the phone with them all afternoon, but now Patrick’s father wants to press charges . . .”

“Oh, Debbie
,
I hadn’t heard.”

“Neither had we, until yesterday.”

The shouting was getting louder, and I could hear Mr. Stuart telling his son he was a miserable excuse for a human being.

Hot, angry tears filled my eyes.

“You should go, Sarah.”

Nodding numbly, I slowly walked back to my car.

Florida State had been Matt’s opportunity to get out of this town. To get away from his father. To begin a new life. His chance was now gone, and my heart broke for the young man. He deserved a clean slate, but—in pressing charges—Patrick’s father was going to ensure that never happened.

I cried all the way home.

A few days later, I was searching for wedding dresses online when Lucas walked into the kitchen.

“How’d it go?” Today had been Lucas’s scheduled session with Matt.

“It didn’t,” he said quietly as he closed the door behind him. “Our tutoring services are no longer needed.”

I wasn’t surprised, but it still hurt a little.

“Did you at least get to see him?”

“I didn’t make it past the front door,” Lucas explained, sitting down next to me and kissing me on the cheek. “Debbie did say Matt isn’t doing very well. He absolutely refuses to come out of his room, and he hasn’t eaten in days.”

I closed my eyes and tried to keep my tears at bay. Lucas wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.

“Sweetheart, we can’t save them all.”

“I want to try.”

“I know you do,” he said, nuzzling my cheek with his nose. “It’s just one of the reasons why I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

He kissed my cheek again before turning his attention to the computer screen.

“Still looking at dresses?”

I sighed. “I just want to try to focus on something positive, you know?”

Smiling, he pointed to a particularly short wedding dress with lots of lace and very little fabric. “I like this one.”

I smirked. “Of course you do. Now go away. You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress.”

He laughed and kissed me softly before making his way into the living room. I had been spending most of my evenings online, making notes, and looking at bridal websites. I was surprised how excited I was about planning the wedding. I’d never been a fan of ceremonies, but this was different. It was the one bright spot in my otherwise chaotic life, and I was determined to enjoy every moment of it.

I had just emailed a few dress pictures to Lucas’s mom when he walked back into the kitchen. His face was ashen, and he was holding his cell phone.

“Tommy just called,” he announced quietly. “Matt’s been taken to the hospital in Winslow.”

My blood ran cold.

“What happened?”

“Debbie found him unresponsive in his bedroom,” Lucas explained. “We probably won’t be welcome at the hospital, but if you want to go—”

I jumped out of my chair. “I want to go.”

Lucas nodded and grabbed his keys off the counter.

The waiting room was filled with people—or maybe it just seemed that way—because the room was so small. Tommy and Aubrey were in one corner, sitting next to a pale-faced Howie. My stomach somersaulted, and I clutched Lucas’s arm as Aubrey rushed from her seat.

“He’s okay,” she whispered to us. “We don’t know a lot of details. Debbie’s in the chapel. The pastor is on his way . . .”

I looked up at Lucas.

“I’d like to go see Debbie.”

“Okay.”

The chapel was easy to find. It was small, too, with a few pews and candlelight dancing at the altar. Debbie was sitting up front, and we quietly made our way to her side. Her tearful eyes didn’t seem at all surprised to see us. She just gave us a sad smile when we sat down next to her. I took her hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. Minutes passed, until finally, she squeezed my hand in return.

“The doctor says he’s going to be fine—physically,” Debbie whispered weakly. Her voice was hollow and haunted. “It’s funny. I could hardly get him to take one pain pill when he was in that cast. I told the doctor it had to be accidental—my son would never intentionally try to hurt himself—but nobody accidentally takes that many pills. Not all at once.”

I didn’t ask how many. The number was irrelevant.

“The past few weeks have been terrible,” Debbie continued. “It’s been one thing right after another. First, there was the news about college. Then Patrick pressed charges. Yesterday, Matt got a call from one of the deacons of the church, telling him it might be best if he didn’t help the youth with the Spring Carnival this year. He always volunteers . . .”

Determined to stay strong, I blinked back my tears. Lucas wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulder.

“And his
father
,” Debbie laughed hoarsely. “It’s hard to remember why I ever loved that man. If I’d known what a hateful, stubborn father he’d turn out to be, I never would have married him.”

We sat with her until Pastor Martin arrived. He offered us a quiet hello and a sad smile as he took his place at Debbie’s side. We stood to leave, and Debbie grabbed my hand once again.

“He loves you both so much. Thank you for loving him.”

We simply nodded before making our way out of the chapel.

Chapter 26