The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love (26 page)

Hannah stretched out on the blanket and let the hood of her sweatshirt act as a pillow. She looked up at the gray December sky and wondered when full-on winter would arrive. She did her best not to think about the thing bothering her, a subject that troubled her enough that she’d almost gone to Mrs. Carson to talk about it. At the last minute, she’d changed her mind. She
wasn’t sure Mrs. Carson knew much more about men—or in this case, boys—than she did.

The winter formal was next Friday night, and Josh still hadn’t mentioned it. He couldn’t possibly be unaware of the event. The school halls were plastered with signs, and the cheerleaders had set up a table in the cafeteria to sell tickets. Josh had to know the dance was next week. And he had to know she was expecting him to ask her, especially after the homecoming incident.

“Are you asleep?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice and scrambled to a sitting position. Why hadn’t she heard him coming through the underbrush? Because she’d been lost in thought, daydreaming about him, of course. On her own little Josh Hargrove planet.

“Sorry” He plopped down beside her on the blanket. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He wore jeans, a long-sleeve T-shirt, and a fleece vest.

“You didn’t.” She smiled at him and tried not to look too eager. “I was just thinking.”

“About me?” he teased, and when she blushed, he laughed and leaned over to kiss her. “Excellent.”

She didn’t know whether he meant the kiss was excellent or he liked the fact that she was thinking about him, but she didn’t care. He was happy to see her, and that was all that mattered.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “My mom wanted me to do some stuff for her before I left.” He frowned at the mention of his mother.

Hannah shrugged. “No big deal.” But she’d noticed in the last week or so that he’d started to show up just a little late for whatever they’d planned to do.
Don’t be paranoid
, she told herself, but she couldn’t quite silence the doubts that had taken root.

“What do you want to do today?” he asked.

Hannah nodded toward her backpack. “I brought some sandwiches. We can just hang out if you want.”

She wanted to talk to him, draw him into conversation, and somehow, in a subtle way, bring up the subject of the winter formal. Or better yet, get him to bring it up. If they were going together, she needed time to talk to Mrs. Carson about a new dress. Camille had one at the shop that had almost made her drool, a dark purple silk that looked sophisticated without being too old. It was an amazing dress, and although Hannah wasn’t particularly a girly-girl, she desperately wanted that dress. Even more desperately, she wanted to wear it to the winter formal as Josh’s date.

“What time do you have to be home?”

Hannah glanced at her watch. It was a little after noon. “I told Camille I’d come by the dress shop in a while and help her do some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Cleaning. Pricing things. Just stuff.”

“I still think it’s a ripoff that she doesn’t pay you.”

Hannah looked away. She’d been too proud to tell Josh that
she worked at the dress shop in exchange for clothes. It sounded too pathetic, too… trailer park. “I like helping Camille.”

“Can’t you blow it off, just for today? I’ve barely seen you this week.”

His dismissive attitude irked Hannah. She didn’t like being taken for granted as a girlfriend, but her real fear was that maybe he wasn’t taking her for granted at all. Maybe he just liked her as a friend and she was reading too much into it. But how could you read too much into a guy’s feelings when he kissed you on the sidewalk after a football game in full view of God and everybody? That had to matter more than who he took to homecoming.

“I have a life, too, Josh.” She turned away to dig in her backpack for the sandwiches. Mrs. Carson had helped her make them—thick piles of turkey on fresh bread from the bakery on the town square. The librarian didn’t think a sandwich was finished until you’d put some fancy mustard, lettuce, and tomato on it. For Hannah, who had lived on bologna and Wonder Bread for years, it seemed like a lot of bother. But it also seemed nice.

Josh put his hand on her shoulder, and she swiveled back around to find him looking at her sheepishly, apology in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m being a jerk.”

She nodded. “Yes, you are.” She only wished she had the guts to elaborate on that statement.

“Can I still have a sandwich?”

“Have two.” She tossed a couple of Ziploc bags at him. “Or
else you’ll be hungry in an hour.” All that weight lifting must burn off a jillion calories, because Josh was always hungry.

“Thanks.” He leaned forward and brushed another kiss across her lips. His mouth, so soft against hers, made her think of Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler. Before Josh, she would never have understood the hoop-skirt-wearing main character. But now…

“Josh—” She stopped, unwrapped her sandwich, and stared at it as if it contained the answer to all the mysteries of the universe.

“What?” He took a bite of his sandwich large enough to choke a horse.

“I was wondering…” How in the world was she supposed to ask without asking?

Josh chewed, swallowed. “Wondering what?” He grinned. “Great sandwich, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She picked at the bread, tore off a few crumbs, and tossed them to a bird perched on a rock a few feet away.

“What were you wondering? How I got to be so awesome?”

His teasing grin made her stomach flip, which she would have enjoyed more if she hadn’t just swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“I guess I was wondering”—she took a deep breath—“I guess I was wondering if I needed a new dress for the winter formal.”

She waited, her heart pounding, for his response. For a long
moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her with an unreadable expression.

“Hannah—”

Now she really regretted that bite of sandwich. She could see the pity in his eyes. She’d been a fool, read too much into his attention. He didn’t want to date her, not openly. But then why had he kissed her? Taken her to the Dairy Dip? She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.

“Never mind.” She jammed her sandwich back into the Ziploc bag, then stuffed it into her open backpack. “It’s not important.” She reached for the zipper, knowing that she had to get out of there. Had to run and run and keep running. She was such an idiot. In a flash she was on her feet and swinging the backpack over her shoulder. “I’ve got to run. Camille’s expecting me.”

“Hannah, wait.” He was on his feet too, and he caught her arm, holding her in place. “I need to explain.”

She whirled around to face him. “Who are you taking?”

One tiny sliver of hope still lodged in the vicinity of her heart. Stupid, idiotic hope. And then she looked in his eyes, and it died.

“I’m taking Courtney.”

Hannah bit her lip to keep the tears from flowing. Pain was always better than weakness. She’d learned that from her mother at an early age. “Whatever.” She looked down at his hand on her arm. “Like I said, I’ve got to go.”

“You know I’d rather take you.” He released her arm but didn’t move away. “But my mom—She’s been a mess since the divorce. She hates it here. And it made her so happy when I took Courtney to homecoming.” He frowned. “It’s just a stupid dance.”

“Then why go at all?” She shouldn’t ask. Shouldn’t stand there and let him grind her heart into the sand beneath their feet. “Tell your mother you don’t want to go.”

“She just wants the best for me—” He broke off when he saw her bite her lip again, almost drawing blood. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I understand.” Hannah shook off his hand and stepped back. “Your mom wants you to date the perfect little pompom girl, Merry McGavin’s precious daughter. Not some piece of trash like that slutty Tracy Simmons’s spawn.”

“Stop it.” Now he was angry too. “You know that’s not true.”

But it was true. “Nice try, Josh.”

“I just need time to get her used to the idea of you and me. After my stepfather dumped her, we didn’t have much choice but to move back here. She’s been really depressed. She talks about Courtney nonstop, keeps pushing me to ask her out. I wanted to tell you, but—”

“But what? You thought my feelings might be hurt?” Her laughter was short and sharp, like a dog’s bark. “Smart guy. No wonder you’re in honors classes.” Bitterness poured from every word. Why had she trusted him? She knew better. She’d always known better.

“You’re not the only one who’s had it tough, Hannah.”

“So says the star quarterback.” Why was she even standing here, listening to this? “See you around.”

She took off toward the trees, half wanting Josh to follow her and half praying he didn’t.

“Hannah!” he called after her.

Before she had reached the underbrush, she was crying. She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t make any telltale noises. More than anything, she did not want him to know how badly he’d hurt her.

By the time she made it back to the road and into town, it was clear he wasn’t coming after her. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her forehead, and she swiped at it with the back of her hand.

Never again. He could apologize all he wanted, talk about his mom until he was blue in the face, but it wouldn’t matter.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But it wasn’t Josh she was mad at. She was mad at herself for letting down her guard, for thinking that a childish connection might still lay between them.

For believing that she would ever, ever, in a million years, be good enough for someone like Josh Hargrove.

Merry looked down at Hunter’s sleeping form in the hospital crib. Tubes and sensors decorated his little body like some macabre Christmas tree. She reached out, stroked his cheek with her finger, and felt the guilt rise up in her throat like bile.

Kawasaki disease. Rare, but treatable with intravenous gamma globulin. Merry looked at the bag of medicine hanging from the IV stand. Ten thousand dollars a pop. Thank goodness Jeff hadn’t let their health insurance lapse. They’d been at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital for five days already, and she had no idea how much longer they would keep Hunter.

“He’s going to be okay, Merry.” Jeff slipped his arm around her shoulders. “He just needs time for the medicine to work.”

“I know.”

Jeff’s hand cupped her shoulder, caressing it. “I’m sorry I have to leave.”

Merry turned to him and rested her head against his chest.
“Daphne Munden was sweet to offer to look after the kids today.”

She felt Jeff nod. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” he asked. “Go home, just for tonight? I’ll stay with him.”

Merry shook her head. “Will you explain to the kids?” She wished she could see them, hold them, for just a moment. Courtney in all her adolescent arrogance; Jake, smelling of sweaty boy; and little Sarah, who had made Hunter a get-well card out of construction paper and stickers.

“They understand, Merry. It’s okay.”

If only she hadn’t gone back to work full time. If only she hadn’t left him at day care.

“Merry.” Jeff spoke softly, but his voice held a note of reproof. “You have to quit doing that.”

“Doing what?” She tried to play innocent, but how could she when she only felt self-reproach?

“Hunter didn’t get sick because we put him in day care.”

Merry’s shoulders slumped. “I know it’s not rational, but that doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t real.”

“But real and reasonable aren’t always the same thing.”

Merry pushed away from him. “Jeff—”

He reached for her, but she eluded him. “You’d better start home,” she said. “It’s already getting dark outside.”

His gaze lingered on Hunter. “Night, pal,” he said. He looked at her. “I’ll try to get back up here tomorrow.”

“Stay with the kids. They need one of us to be there.”

“Merry?”

“What?” She wanted him to leave so she could cry in peace. She did that a lot while Hunter slept.

“If you blame yourself, then you have to blame me too. I insisted you come to work full time, that we put Hunter in day care.”

“Jeff—”

“Just think about what I said. Sometimes bad things just happen.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you.”