Blind Her With Bliss

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Alan, the real hero of my life—who’s taught me to laugh and love without
reservation

 

Tilling Passions Series Book 1

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…

How could this have happened to someone so young? Julie Tilling dabbed at the tears ruining the makeup she’d meticulously applied to her rounded cheeks. She stared at the coffin suspended eerily over the marred earth of the cemetery, not sure what to make of this farce. Her best friend from high school was dead, and it seemed everyone in the small town of Delmont, except her, believed Jason McCarty had perished at his own hand. There were rumors circulating about gambling debts, medical school cheating scandals, and even unrequited loves, but Julie didn’t believe any of it. Jason simply had had too much to live for to take his own life.

She’d known Jason for—well, she couldn’t remember a time when the McCarty and Tilling families hadn’t been friends. And though she’d graduated from high school nearly a decade ago, memories of her and Jason still made Julie smile. She’d shunned the backbiting and name calling of her female peers, and he hadn’t been the jock type. The two of them had spent four years running the thespian and honor societies, Key Club and yearbook. Though he’d gone off to medical school, and she’d studied her way to an MBA, they’d always found time for each other over the years.

The loss of her best friend had ripped away a piece of her heart and Julie doubted the ache it left in its wake would ever subside.

Like a good sheep, Julie joined her parents in the procession of town’s people paying their last respects. But unlike the other mourners filing between the coffin and Jason’s father, Julie was not avoiding the man’s vacant stare. Julie wanted old Doc McCarty to know she would not let her questions over his son’s senseless death be buried with the coffin.

Hunched into an overcoat, Doc McCarty looked much older than his sixty-two years. As if reading her thoughts, his head lifted, and he caught her eye. Lines of misery morphed his normally serene features into a grotesque mask of pain and anger. The menace in his eyes speared pain straight to her heart. Of course, he was angry; the poor man was now alone in the world. Julie choked back a sob as someone stepped in front of him, breaking the string of tension momentarily connecting them.

Repeating the action of others, she pulled a white rose from one of the arrangements flanking the casket and placed it on Jason’s coffin and made a silent promise. She would continue to dig for information about his death—even if the local police hadn’t bothered.

* * * *

The sun was well past its zenith, but that didn’t diminish the weight of the July heat glistening on Julie’s skin. A couple of weeks had passed since Jason’s funeral, and she still couldn’t shake the unsettled feelings about his death. Perhaps today it wasn’t grief making her sluggish as she dragged out of her tiny car, but the oppressive humidity. It must be somewhere around ninety-five percent. Maine summers weren’t very long, but they could certainly be uncomfortable.

Julie trudged across the parking lot into the floral shop at Tilling Garden and Plants. She ran her fingers through the thick strands of hair she’d meticulously straightened that morning. There was nothing left of the salon-sleek hairstyle save for a rusty mass of frizz. What a pain in the ass.

“I’m here,” she called out in unison with the bells jingling over the door. The scent of eucalyptus and jasmine filled her nose and she breathed deep, letting the calming aroma fill her.

“I’m out back.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Julie mumbled, winding her way through the displays of silk flowers and potted plants, past the empty front counter to the back work room.

“That’s a pretty outfit, Jules. Not everyone can wear grey. But it’s definitely a good color for you.” Her sister Meghan barely turned away from the assortment of roses scattered on her workbench.

Julie wasn’t sure that was a compliment, but she knew her younger sibling had intended it that way, so she took no offense. “Thanks.”

Younger by a year, Meghan looked radiant as always. Nothing ever looked good on Julie. Her sister’s chestnut curls were pulled back in an elaborate French twist with tiny wisps framing her pixie features. Meghan didn’t need to wear the makeup accenting her almond eyes and high cheekbones. Her flawless skin would have been beautiful without the subtle strokes of color. Unlike Julie who attempted to cover the smattering of freckles across her nose and thicken the sparse eyelashes she’d been blessed with.

“So what’s up with the frantic phone call, Meg?” Julie asked, leaning in to give her sister a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “Nice bridal bouquet. Hard to believe you’ll be carrying your own soon.”

“I know. How cool is that? Just like Mum and Daddy.” Meghan held out her left hand. The three-quarter-carat marquis diamond caught the afternoon light shafting through the window and sent it dancing on the walls.

Julie tamped down the quick spike of envy. The fact that her sisters seemed to have all the luck in the love department while she continued to strike out certainly wasn’t their fault.

“Anyway, the
phone call
.” Meghan giggled, shrugging her shoulders. “I just can’t figure out the new filing system you set up in the office. I need the bill for the Harriman wedding tomorrow and Chelsea’s paycheck, but I couldn’t remember the combination to the safe. Then I had these invoices from the flower delivery. Those I just threw on top of the desk, along with the mail for the last couple of days.”

At least she had the grace to blush at her own shortcomings.

“It’s Friday, Jules. Peter and I have a date,” Meghan continued. “I knew you wouldn’t be busy. Could you be a peach and dig it all out for me? You’re so much better at all the organizational stuff.”

Exasperated, Julie bit her cheek to hold in a sigh. “Meg, the combination is the month and day of our parents’ anniversary.
Simple.
Four numbers.”
Since Meghan wasn’t really listening to the details, Julie walked into the little office off the back room as she talked. “The invoices go in the basket on top of the desk marked ‘in’. And you could have sorted the mail to separate the junk from the bills,” Julie muttered the last observation. Two days’ worth of sale flyers and bills littered the otherwise immaculate desk.

“What?” Meghan hollered from the workbench.

“Never mind, I’ll do it. Like always,” Julie said to no one.

“Hello, anyone here?”

The backdoor slammed. Another two steps and her baby sister, Deirdre, would have seen Meghan. Julie rubbed at the annoyance pounding behind her temples.

“Jules is in the office,” Meghan replied.

Tilling Gardens and Plants had been the brainchild of her sisters. Open five years, her younger siblings had floundered financially for the first two. When Julie received her MBA with honors from Northeastern University in Boston, she’d had plans too big to fit into the rural town of Delmont. But her sisters’ not-so-subtle hints at bankruptcy had piled onto her already high level of guilt at leaving home. Add the weight of aging parents with declining health and it had become a burden she couldn’t ignore.

Returning to Delmont as their partner and business manager had ensured Julie would be close should her parents need
her.
Of course it didn’t hurt that the floral and landscaping business had flourished under her business guidance and was now supporting the three of them quite nicely. Still, the strains of her family obligations often stretched her patience to the point of breaking—like now.

“Oh, Jules, glad you’re here.” Deirdre’s work boots trailed mud and who knew what else through the work room into her office.

“Hey, Dee, watch the mess,” Julie said.

Deirdre ignored the reprimand. “I’ve got a couple of checks.” Fishing through the deep pockets of her cargo shorts, Deirdre produced a wad of crumpled papers. “Sorry about the gum wrappers,” she said and dropped the multi-colored mess on the desk. “There’s a check there for the
Nabin’s
stone walk and a deposit for the English’s job. And since you’re here, let me run back out to the truck and get the estimate for some tree work and my mileage log for the week.”

“We pay her mileage?” Meghan stepped up behind Deirdre. “That hardly seems fair.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “We’d pay yours too, if—”

Her words were lost in the heated exchange of her siblings. Julie didn’t have the patience for her sisters’ petty debate. Air whistled through the fingers pressed between her lips before thought snapped over her synapses. After twenty-nine years, Julie had found it was the only way to get their attention.

Struck dumb by the piercing noise, both women stared at her. Julie swallowed her irritation before patiently walking them through Business 101 for the umpteenth time.

* * * *

Damon Corey leaned low over the handle bars of the liquid cooled Harley. Wind whistled past the tinted visor of his helmet, but it couldn’t muffle the roar of the chrome dual exhaust. Noise equaled power, and at the moment, he had both. The only time he had control over his life was on the bike. Kicking the motorcycle up another gear, he watched the red needle creep toward one hundred miles per hour.
This
was freedom.

Damon had at least thirty-five miles of back roads through the Maine woods before he hit the outskirts of Bangor and the residential neighborhoods. That was plenty of time to think and reevaluate the priorities in his life.

He seemed to be doing it a lot lately.

He’d moved to Delmont while snow still blanketed the ground like a layer of thick icing. It seemed like a life time ago. It hadn’t taken him long to endear himself to his neighbors. He felt at home in his rented house sitting back from a quiet street where everyone waved when you passed. He wondered what their reaction would be if they knew who he really was.

Though many people pined for more action than rural towns could offer, Damon wasn’t one of them. Growing up on the streets of Philly, he’d been involved in more than his share of excitement. If that hadn’t cured him, the stint in the army before college definitely had. At thirty-one, he was more than ready to find a place he could permanently call home.

He hated where he was going, what he had to do when he got there.

Damon didn’t want to think about that now. Now, he’d enjoy the sky as the sun slipped behind the trees, trailing crimson streaks in its wake. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh scent of the pine forest whizzing by.

He could only hope that someday soon this would all be over.

* * * *

The phone on Julie’s dashboard let out a melodious tone and vibrated in a small circle. Checking the display, she pushed the button on the hands-free set. “Hello, Meghan.”

“Hey Sis, Peter and I are sitting in the restaurant having an argument.”

She heard Peter, Meg’s fiancé, speak into the phone, and then plant a juicy kiss on her sister’s cheek, loud enough for Julie to hear.

“Stop,” Meg said away from the phone. “He’s only sucking up because he wants you to agree with him. Now, when it comes to fish
raised
in a farm over organic beef…”

Julie half-heartedly listened to her sister’s jabbering. Meghan didn’t really want anything, just the reassurance Julie would be on the other end of the phone. Why wouldn’t she? Julie never had plans. Julie never had a date. Julie was just Julie; solid, dependable, everyone’s Rock of Gibraltar. Wouldn’t they all be surprised to know where she was headed?

Stretching her neck to peer in the rearview mirror, she checked the scarlet lipstick painting her mouth. The silken, black strands of the wig swished around her cheeks as she shook her head. She liked this look, even the black liner circle her eye.