Season of Sisters (17 page)

"Rock climbing. Out at Mineral Wells State Park. Bill takes climbing trips all over the country. He's going to teach me how to get started. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time now. It's going to be one of the items on my Life List. Item number one, in fact." She rose and crossed the room to where she'd left her purse. Digging a small notebook and a pen from inside, she returned to the table, opened it, and wrote:

Maggie's Wish List

1. I will go rock climbing in Arizona.

"So, are y'all ready to help me figure out the rest of it?"

Holly set dessert—a chocolate ice cream-and-brownie sundae—and three spoons at the center of the table. "As long as you don't make sex with the pool boy one of the items, yeah. What else do you have in mind?"

"I just have a couple vague notions. Show us your list, Holly. Maybe that will give me some ideas."

They spent the next hour laughing and giggling as they offered up ideas and suggestions for Maggie's Life List while they cleaned up after dinner, then returned to the front flower beds to finish planting the petunias. Some of the suggestions were silly. Others, serious. All worth consideration.

"After all," Maggie said as she worked plant food into the soil, "collecting nail polish colors is as legitimate as collecting quarters."

By the time Ben arrived to escort Grace home, Maggie had settled on items one through three. "Rock climbing, touring the great churches of Europe, and winning a ribbon for my chocolate cake at the State Fair. I'm comfortable with those. For my number four, I still want to think a bit about the volunteer work. As much as I love my baby-rocking hours at Methodist Hospital, I'd like for whatever I add to be a different venue entirely."

"What about five?" Grace asked, eyeing the notes she'd taken during the discussion. "Have you made up your mind about it?"

Maggie glanced over Grace's shoulder at the rounded, regular writing on the yellow legal pad. She smiled. What was listed in the number five slot had come directly off Holly's list, her number twenty-one. "I will do something deliciously wicked," she read aloud. "Yes. Oh, yes. That one is definitely on my list. It's my number five. In fact, I have something already in mind for my number five."

"Not the pool boy," Holly groaned. "Please, tell me not the pool boy."

"No, not the pool boy." Maggie gave a sly smile. "But it does have something to do with water."

* * *

As was her habit, Holly remained in her classroom during lunch period on Friday to grade weekly tests. She had considered putting off the task until this evening just to give herself something to do, but she had a handful of students who regularly stopped by after school on Friday to get their scores. She didn't feel right about making them wait just because her social life had imploded.

She finished her first period exams and had started on the second when a knock sounded on her door. She glanced up to see one of her students from last year waving at her through the narrow rectangular window. Holly motioned for the girl to enter the classroom.

"Hi, Miss Weeks," Taylor Dodd said.

"Hello, Taylor. How's algebra going?"

"It's
so
hard," she said. "I'm doing terrible. I hate it." She gave her blond ponytail a dramatic toss, then sighed heavily.

Recalling the girl's tendency toward theatrics, Holly arched a skeptical brow. "What's your average?"

"Ninety-four."

"Ninety-four on a one hundred point scale. Have your parents grounded you yet?"

"No, of course not." The girl flashed a grin. "I'm office aide this week and I have a message for you from Mr. Thompson. He wants you to come to his office right away."

"Oh? Am I in trouble with the principal?"

Taylor's eyes rounded. "I don't know. Did you do something bad?"

Immediately, she thought of Justin. Holly shook her head. "I guess I'd better see what he wants. Please tell Mr. Thompson I'll be right there."

Holly slipped her shoes back on, rummaged in her desk drawer for her keys, and locked her classroom door behind her. With the children at lunch, the seventh-grade wing was relatively quiet, and her footsteps against the tile floor echoed off the walls as she made her way down the hallway.

She rounded the corner and turned onto the main corridor leading to the cafeteria and the school office. With her thoughts on why the principal had sent for her, she didn't notice the children holding the poster right outside the lunchroom until one of them called her name.

The sign was decorated in glitter and gold stars and read: CONGRATULATIONS, MISS WEEKS!

"What's this?" she asked as they motioned her into the cafeteria. Holly stopped abruptly as her eyes went wide. Her students—a boy and a girl from each of her six classes—were lined up on either side of the doorway, each child with a yellow rose in his hand. They quickly surrounded her, pressing the flowers upon her.

Holly laughed with delight as she collected golden buds, then abruptly fell silent in surprise as she heard Mr. Thompson announce, "Faculty and students, please join me in congratulating Bonham Middle School's Teacher of the Year, Miss Weeks!"

The cheers and applause brought tears to her eyes. The testimonials from her students made her laugh.

When the time came to return to her room for afternoon classes, she all but floated down the hall. It was the best day of her teaching career.

As she drove home, she wanted desperately to share the news with her best friend. Except, her best friend wasn't speaking to her anymore because she'd banished him from her life.

The grief in his expression when she sent him away would be burned on her mind forever.

That was three weeks ago now, and every day since she'd second-guessed herself, wondered if she'd said the right thing. Done the right thing. Justin's absence left a huge hole in her life. She missed making love with him, of course, but it was so much more than that. She missed his enthusiasm. She missed seeing his smile. She missed his stupid jokes and the heat of his body lying next to her as she slept. Most of all, she missed their daily talks when they shared the minutiae of everyday life and offered each other insight and opinion and support.

Justin would be so proud of the Teacher of the Year award. Middle-school teachers seldom had an opportunity for professional recognition, and Justin had complained about that in the past on her behalf. She imagined telling him about it. She could picture the light that would dawn in his eyes and the beam of his smile. He'd pick her up and whirl her around. Maybe do his "wah-hoo" noise of celebration. Then he'd kiss her, a big, smacking, you-are-such-a-WOMAN kiss. That would probably lead to sex, and celebration sex was always among their best. Come to think of it, had they ever had celebration sex because of her accomplishments?

No, it had always been Justin's accomplishments they'd celebrated. She'd tried to get him to make love after her first—and only—bungee jump, thus meeting goal number twelve on her Life List, but he'd gotten snippy about it. Justin did not like her doing anything the least bit risky.

And yet, he wanted her to marry him. What could be riskier than staking his future on her? Go figure.

At home, she changed clothes and tried not to reach for the phone. She held off by working in her yard until dark, then sitting down with a bowl of microwave popcorn to watch a rented movie. Under the circumstances, her choice of romantic comedy was a poor one, and when the ending credits rolled on the TV screen, she cratered. She put her mind on hold and allowed her heart to take control.

Holly grabbed her purse and keys and dashed for the garage. She made the half-hour drive to Justin's house in just over twenty minutes, anticipation rising in her blood with every turn of the tires.

She didn't even know if he'd be home. She had no clue what his hospital schedule was this week. But she prayed he would be there. She needed to share her news. She needed to see him.

Oh, Justin. I've missed you so much.

Justin's home was a two-bedroom brick cottage in the hospital district of Fort Worth. Built in the 1930s, the house had been completely updated by the previous owner. It had charm and character and a small enough yard to give a busy doctor the pleasure of home maintenance with minimal commitment. The best feature of the cottage was its big front porch. Holly had spent many a night sitting on the porch swing necking with her fella.

Maybe he'd sit out here with her tonight. The setting was lovely. Silver moonlight bathed the yard and the scent of roses drifted on the cool evening air. It was a perfect night for romance.

But you didn't come here for romance. You came for friendship. Remember that.

She noted the slight tremor in her hand as she pressed the doorbell. Her thoughts were in a whirl. Did he miss her, too? Would he be happy to see her? Would he slam the door in her face?

Surely not. She'd hurt him, angered him. But Justin wasn't the type to hold a grudge. Justin liked to move forward. He didn't stay mired in the past like Holly was wont to do. Of course, his past was a whole lot different than hers.

No matter what, he would be proud of her award. Holly knew that without a doubt. She knew in her heart that no matter what happened between them romantically, she could always count on Justin to be her friend. Her best friend.

As the bell's echo faded, she swayed sideways toward one of the long windows flanking the door. She tried to peer through the waves in the leaded glass for signs of life in the softly lit entry hall. Nothing. She couldn't hear anything, either.

"Come on, Justin. Be home." She cupped her hands around her eyes and leaned against the pane. Ah hah. Light in his study and in the hallway upstairs.

She rang the bell a second time, then saw movement on the staircase. She jerked back to stand innocently in front of the door and heard him call, "I'll be right there."

As the door swung open, he said, "Sorry we forgot the bag... Holly."

Pleasure flared in his eyes, but was quickly banked. He was dressed in a tux, sans jacket, his tie looped around his neck, the ends dangling. The link on his left cuff was missing, his sleeve rolled midway up his forearm. She wondered why he was all dressed up. Some fundraiser for the hospital, most likely. He looked so handsome he took her breath away.

"Holly," Justin repeated, his expression shifting to... what was that... dismay? "What are you doing here?"

So much for being happy to see me.

"Is something wrong?" he continued. "Is it your dad?"

Her throat tightened and she worked to force the words out. "No. Nothing's wrong."

Justin visibly relaxed, then seconds later abruptly straightened again. He glanced back over his shoulder. His dismay grew more pronounced. In fact, he appeared distinctly uncomfortable. "It's uh... late."

"I needed to..."
See you, touch you, love you.
"...to talk to you. I have something to tell you."

He stepped out onto the front porch, pulling the door shut behind him. Holly was taken aback by his action. He wasn't going to invite her in?

"Are you pregnant?"

Pregnant? Pregnant! Where did he come up with that? And was it hope in his voice? Or dread? Dread with a dash of panic. "No, I'm not pregnant."

He briefly closed his eyes. "The way you said you had something to tell me sounded serious."

Holly simply stared at him as she tried to understand her own response to his reaction.

"Look," he said, raking his fingers through his hair, a defensive note in his tone. "It's late. I thought maybe you were, too."

He abruptly shut his mouth. An eternity of silence stretched between them, uncomfortable and awkward. She hadn't expected it to be like this. She wasn't exactly certain what she
had
expected, but certainly not this.

Stepping back, she fumbled for the car keys deep in a jeans pocket. Coming here had been a mistake. Thinking she could salvage their friendship had been a mistake. She couldn't tell Justin about her Teacher of the Year award. Not now. She should make up an excuse and go, but she couldn't quite make her feet move.

"Is this about your plans to move? Have you decided to leave town early or something? Have you come to say good-bye?" Justin folded his arms. Anger radiated off him in waves.

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked rapidly, shifting her stance so that her face fell into shadow. "No. That's not why I wanted to see you."

"If it's about that business over at Maggie's house, if Mike Prescott has tried to fill your head with his paranoid prattle—"

"No, Maggie and Grace told me what happened. I know Mike was acting stupid. You wouldn't start an affair with Maggie."

Justin grew unnaturally still; the force of his stare was palpable. In a deceptively soft voice, he asked, "How come you're so certain? She's a beautiful, sexy woman, and frankly, I like her very much."

Holly wrinkled her nose. "She's a beautiful, sexy,
married
woman, and I know your views about marriage vows. You won't be a party to cheating, even if they are separated."

Justin scowled but didn't respond. He couldn't argue with the truth.

Tension swirled in the rose-scented breeze. Holly halfway expected to hear the crack of thunder, never mind that the night sky was free of clouds. She should turn around and leave right now. She knew it. Instead, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Justin, it's nothing serious. It's something to do with school. I had good news I wanted to share. If you have a few minutes, I'd like to tell you about it."

"I don't." His arms fell to his sides and he took half a step backward. "I don't have time tonight to listen. You should go, Holly."

He might as well have hit her with his fist. "Oh. All right."

Still reeling from the blow, fearing the tears would spill before she reached the safety of her car, she turned to leave. She was halfway down the front walk when the second gut-punch arrived in the form of a long white limousine that pulled up to the curb in front of her car and she heard Justin mutter, "Oh, crap."