Water's Edge (18 page)

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Before Tom went to sleep he received a text message from Rick asking him to come a few minutes early. Shortly before dawn, he drove up the long drive to Rick and Tiffany’s house. The sun was still below the tree line, the sky streaked with gray. Tom parked in front of the quiet house. Before he got out of the car, the front door opened. He expected to see Rick.

It was Tiffany.

She was wearing jeans, a loose-fitting top, and boots. She was holding two mugs of steaming coffee. She lifted a mug to Tom as he got out of the car.

“Thought you might like a hot one,” she said.

“I never turn down a cup of coffee when I have to get up this early in the morning. Where’s Rick?” Tom asked, looking past Tiffany. “He sent me a text asking me to come early.”

“He’s still snoozing. I sent the message. I wanted a few minutes with you alone before you left.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, I thought you might want to see the horses. Early in the morning is one of my favorite times to go to the barn. I have a mare filly you have to see.”

Tiffany started walking toward the barn. Tom took a sip of coffee and followed. Tiffany’s jeans were too tight for horseback riding. The grass was wet with dew, the air chilly. Tiffany hugged herself with her arms.

“I should have brought a jacket. Are you going to wear wet suits on the river?”

“Probably.”

Tiffany slowed down so they were walking side by side. When she did, she brushed against him. Tom glanced back at the house.

“I went rafting on a slow section of the river in July,” Tiffany said. “It was hot enough to wear a bikini. Did you take any trips to the beach this summer?”

“A couple of times.”

“With Clarice?”

“Once,” Tom answered.

“What was that crazy girl thinking when she dumped you?” Tiffany asked, shaking her head.

“That she didn’t want to deal with my issues.”

Tiffany laughed. “You’ve got it more together than any other man I know.”

They reached the barn. The dark wooden structure was a state-of-the-art horse stable. Tiffany pulled back a large door set on rollers. It opened smoothly. There was a broad aisle with stalls on the left and storage rooms on the right.

“How many horses do you have?” Tom asked.

“Seven right now. One is for sale, and I’m interested in buying another one.”

“One for each day of the week.”

“Not really. It has more to do with why each animal is here.”

They stopped in front of the second stall.

“Here’s my baby.”

A skinny filly whinnied when she saw Tiffany, who held up her hand and waved it in front of the gangly creature’s head. The filly stretched out and shook her tail.

“Isn’t she a beauty? They stretch or park out like that without being taught. It’s bred into them.”

“What’s her name?”

“She has a fancy registered name, but her barn name is Lizzie. In a few months we’ll start training her.”

They continued down the row of stalls. Tiffany talked about each horse. The uneasiness Tom felt about her asking him to come with her alone to the barn began to ease. Anyone who loves a hobby wants to share it with others.

“I can see this is your happy place,” Tom said when they reached the end of the row.

Tiffany patted the nose of an old gelding that had been a grand champion, then let him nibble a carrot.

“Yes, it is.” She sighed as the horse took the last piece of carrot into his mouth. “Do you ever think back to our high school days?”

“Not really.”

“I do,” Tiffany said, turning so she faced him. “And for the past year I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind that I made a huge mistake going to the senior homecoming dance with Rick instead of you.”

“That was a long time ago,” Tom said with a nervous laugh. “And I didn’t ask you.”

“You were going to, and Rick stepped in. He’s told me the whole story. At the time I was flattered, but life isn’t about convincing a lot of guys to like you; it’s about finding the right one and not letting him go.”

“And who has enough money to finance all this?” Tom gestured with his hand.

“I could walk away from everything and not look back, but I won’t have to. You and I both know if I got a divorce based on irreconcilable differences, it would leave me a rich woman. All I’m asking for is a chance to make it work with you.”

“Tiffany, don’t—”

“Rick will be hurt at first,” Tiffany continued. “But he’ll find a woman who wants to go four-wheeling with him and be happier in the long run.” She stepped closer to Tom, who backed up against the wall. “What woman wants to waste the rest of her life with someone who doesn’t have a clue who she is? I’m not talking about an affair. If we can’t be together until the divorce is final, I’ll have to suffer through the wait. I can endure anything if I know you’ll be waiting for me at the end.”

Tom slid to the side and out into the aisle.

“We really shouldn’t be having this conversation. You made your choice, and Rick is a lifelong friend.”

“I’ve agonized over this speech a thousand times. Do you think it’s easy for me to tell you this?”

“I didn’t say anything about hard or easy. I just—”

“Please, don’t!” Tiffany cut the air with her hand. “Look in your heart, and you’ll see the truth I know is there. When you do, I’ll be waiting and take all the blame.”

Tiffany turned and started walking toward the barn door. Tom followed. They trudged back to the house in silence. When they reached the front steps, Tiffany held out her hand for Tom’s coffee cup. He handed it to her. She let her fingers touch his. Her eyes closed for a moment.

“Rick is probably up by now,” she said as she took the cup. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

The door closed. Tom rubbed his eyes. His head was spinning. He couldn’t deny that Tiffany’s words contained more than a grain of truth. There had been a unique quality to their high school romance. Tom had experienced deep passionate feelings for Tiffany he’d never duplicated with multiple girlfriends since. Images from their days and nights together crept out of his memory vault. There had been lots of good times, not just of the romantic variety, but also long talks on the phone and walks in the woods. Agitated, Tom started pacing back and forth in front of the house.

His thoughts were interrupted by a car coming up the driveway. When it stopped, Tom didn’t recognize the man behind the wheel.

“You must be Tom Crane,” the sandy-haired man said, getting out of the car and extending his hand. “Rick told me you’d be joining us.”

“Yes.”

“I’m Nick Whalen, a horse trainer at a stable near Chattanooga. Riders from my place often compete against Tiffany, and I recently sold her a nice filly.”

“Lizzie.”

“Right.”

“I met Lizzie a few minutes ago when Tiffany and I went to the barn.”

Nick looked past Tom. “Where’s Tiffany?”

“Inside with Rick.”

Each mention of Tiffany’s name made Tom’s stomach twist in a knot. Glancing at his car, he wondered if he could feign sickness so he could get away from the property.

“I’ve sold Tiffany a couple of other horses,” Nick continued, oblivious to Tom’s torment. “She’s always in the market for an upgrade.”

A shiny red pickup truck rumbled up the driveway. The vehicle had oversize tires on chrome wheels. As it drew closer, the driver gunned the engine, causing the truck to lurch forward.

“Do you know Hal Millsap?” Nick asked.

“No.”

The front door of the house opened, and Rick stepped outside. Tiffany wasn’t with him.

“Good morning, boys,” he said, stretching his arms in the air.

When he saw Rick, Tom replayed in a split second his entire conversation with Tiffany at the barn. He shuddered. Rick slapped him on the back.

“I’m glad you decided to come.”

Tom didn’t reply. Hal pulled his truck directly in front of the other three men and lowered the window. Rick motioned for him to keep going.

“Move on,” Rick said. “I don’t want that thing sitting here all day. Someone will think I’m sponsoring a tractor pull.”

Hal spit out the window, leaving a small brown stain on the pristine white concrete. Rick swore.

“Hey! I’ll have to wash that off before we leave,” Rick said. “If Tiffany sees it, she’ll have a fit.”

Hal parked his truck and got out. He was a tall gangly man with black hair and a goatee. His right cheek bulged. When Tom shook his hand, Hal grinned, revealing specks of tobacco scattered across the front of his teeth.

“Hal works in human resources at Pelham Financial,” Rick said to Tom. “He hires and fires all the folks working the customer call center, mailroom, and telephone solicitation departments.”

“And I love doing it,” Hal responded. “Especially the firing part. There’s nothing more satisfying than bringing in a single mom with three or four kids at home and telling her to hit the door and don’t look back. Just last week I got to terminate a woman like that. You could hear her screeching in the parking lot. I had to turn up the country music on the CD in my office to drown her out.”

“Don’t believe a word of that garbage,” Rick said. “The people who work for Hal love him, and he needs that oversize truck of his to deliver turkeys at Thanksgiving and toys at Christmas. Hal, tell Tom where you went to college.”

Hal rubbed his goatee. “I helped Vanderbilt fill its federally mandated quota of rednecks.”

“Where he was Phi Beta Kappa in psychology and human relations,” Rick added. “Tiffany wishes my IQ was half of his. But be careful, Hal, Tom is a brainy guy too.”

“I look forward to testing myself against a worthy adversary,” Hal said. “I’m sure Rick has packed a portable Trivial Pursuit game we can play while we’re on the road.”

Tom didn’t feel like entering into any joking banter.

“Clean it up,” Rick said to Hal, pointing to the nasty brown stain.

“Yes, Mr. Pelham,” Hal said. He stepped into the bushes and grabbed a garden hose. He grinned at Tom and Nick. “I’ve had to do this before.”

Hal turned on the water and washed away the small brown stain. “Just like my sins,” he said.

“If you didn’t chew, you’d have one less thing to repent of,” Rick said.

In addition to his pickup truck, Rick owned a shiny new SUV. All the gear for the trip was stowed in the back of the vehicle. Tom started to get in the backseat.

“No, you’re up front,” Hal said. “Rick told us to treat you like visiting royalty.”

Tom got in beside Rick and tried to put his encounter with Tiffany out of his mind. Hal disappeared for a moment and returned without the bulge in his cheek.

“It’s in a place she’ll never suspect,” he said to Rick. “But when next year the grass is extra green over by that forsythia bush, you’ll know why.”

chapter
FIFTEEN

I
t was an hour and a half to the Ocoee River. Rick skirted Chattanooga and drove toward the mountains that funneled water into the steep valley where the river flowed. Tom spent most of the time staring out the passenger window. It was too hard to look at Rick.

“In May, Nick and I kayaked the upper part of the river,” Rick said. “It made me respect the people who ran the rapids during the Olympics in ’96. Turning around and paddling upstream to a specific point is tough. It’s hard enough just staying upright in the current.”

“Paddling upstream against a strong current describes my love life,” Hal said.

“No woman who still has all her teeth wants to kiss someone with tobacco juice drooling out the side of his mouth,” Rick said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Tom can give you pointers on how to impress the ladies. He’s not been without a good-looking girl hanging on to him since ninth grade.”

Tom clenched his teeth.

“What’s your secret?” Hal asked. “I know we’ve just met, but I let you sit up front even though Rick’s driving makes me carsick if I sit in the backseat.”

“My secret,” Tom responded as he scrambled to come up with an answer that would end the conversation, “is finding a woman who is as afraid of commitment as I am.”

“That’s profound,” Hal said reverentially. “I never learned that in any of my upper-level psychology courses.”

The winding two-lane road reached the edge of the river and passed a hydroelectric power station built in the early 1900s. For more than sixty years, a wooden flume diverted the majority of the water from the riverbed to the power station. It wasn’t until repairs were required to the flume in 1976 and the normal flow of water was restored that the white-water potential of the river became known. The Tennessee Valley Authority planned for the release of water into the riverbed to be temporary, but the resulting outcry led to a compromise in which the TVA designated about a hundred days a year for water to cascade over and around the rocks.

They reached the upper section of the river. The Olympic course was actually a river within the river. Massive boulders were repositioned to create a narrower channel that intensified the force of the current. Rick pulled off the road and they got out of the vehicle to stretch. Nick pointed across the riverbed to the new channel.

“Those rapids lead to the Edge of the World.”

The greenish water foamed in the distance. Hal took a bag of chew from the back pocket of his jeans and popped a wad into his right cheek.

“You can’t appreciate it from this far away,” Rick said. “When you’re sitting in the middle of the current and know there’s no turning back, it is a major adrenaline rush.”

While they watched, a helmeted kayaker entered the rapids.

“He’s about to get to the worst part,” Rick said.

At that moment, the kayak surged up in the air and disappeared.

“Wipeout,” Nick said. “It happens so fast you don’t have a chance to react.”

The kayaker reappeared for an instant, then was swept from view.

Hal spit onto a smooth stone. “Tom, are you sure you’re up for this? Riding this river looks like total commitment to me.”

“You’ll be the first one to kiss a rock,” Rick replied. “Tom knows how to handle a paddle.”

They returned to the SUV and drove downriver to the entry point for the middle Ocoee section. Rafts were piled up on top of colorfully decorated school buses displaying the names of different rafting companies. Rick pulled into a reserved spot for one of the rafting companies.