Fire and Rain, Season 2, Episode 5 (Rising Storm) (3 page)

She felt her dearest friend press her cheek softly to the top of her head. “You’ll never have to find out.”

CHAPTER THREE

Since Jacob’s death, Lacey had pretty much been convinced that Ginny Moreno was the cause of all of her problems. It had been almost satisfying to watch the other girl brought low, but now, Lacey had come to the unpleasant realization that even with Ginny out of the picture, Lacey’s life remained as messy as ever—more so, if she was honest.

Maybe Ginny wasn’t the problem in her life.

Or at least not the only problem.

Lacey’s family was still falling apart. Her mother was despondent. Her father was absent. Her older sister was busy. And her brother was gone. Forever.

It was only when she felt she’d been abandoned by everyone that she’d begun to realize just what that meant, how lonely it made her, and how ill-equipped she was to deal with the reality of Jacob’s loss.

Normally she would have turned to her friends for comfort. Only, thanks to her own stupidity, she didn’t have any friends now. She’d alienated them all, and for what?

She wasn’t even sure. At the time, she’d been so wrapped up in proving to Mallory that she could get Luis Moreno for herself.

Of course, she hadn’t proven that. She’d proven the opposite. But that wasn’t what was so awful about the whole thing.

The worst part was that she’d lost her best friend. That she had deserved to lose her best friend. Her escapades had been wild. Mindless. She hadn’t given a thought to how they’d hurt anyone else. She hadn’t wanted Luis. And she certainly hadn’t wanted to hurt Mallory. She’d simply wanted a few brief distractions from the real issue, which was the pain of losing her brother. A pain she’d done a lot to distract herself from.

It was only now hitting her just how pointless and destructive she’d become.

The barrage of thoughts ran through her head as she lugged the last of the groceries to the car, all the while hoping that her aunt and grandma could manage what she, her father, and her sister had not.

Please
, she prayed.
Somehow let them get through to Mom.

Everything would be better if her mom would just act like herself again. Things would fall back into order, and her dad might even stop working so much. He was gone more often than he was home. The pharmacy wasn’t even open for as many hours as he was working at it, so surely that couldn’t last forever.

She opened the trunk and dropped the bags with the fruits and vegetables she’d picked up at the small farmer’s market on the square into the car, and then stood there, realizing she didn’t want to go home.

The only problem was that she didn’t have anywhere else to go.

How sad was that?

She slammed the trunk and started walking aimlessly, only realizing where she’d headed when she nearly bumped into Anna Mae Prager right smack in front of the Storm Oak.

“Excuse me.” Lacey stepped back, holding up both hands.

“Not at all. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” The older woman smiled. Something she saw in Lacey’s expression seemed to give her pause. “Are you all right?”

“No. Not really,” she said, staring up at the old tree. “Jacob loved this spot.”

“Oh, Lacey. I’m so sorry. Jacob was such a nice boy. We all miss him. You more than most, I suspect.” She sighed. “Maybe we should find you somewhere to sit down?”

Frowning, Lacey looked around. The closest bench was across the square. “There ought to be a seat under this tree. Someplace to sit beneath the branches in the shade.”

“I never thought about it, but you’re right.” Anna Mae nodded to her sister, Rita Mae, as she came up to stand beside them. Lacey had always liked the two sisters. Rita Mae was older by a little bit and definitely more straight-laced than her sister. But they were both good people.

“What have the two of you been talking about?” Rita asked, her gaze full of concern as she studied Lacey.

Anna Mae looked over at the tree and then back at her sister. “We’ve been remembering Jacob. And we were talking about benches. Lacey was wondering why there isn’t one beneath the tree.” She pointed at the thick trunk. “Right there.”

Put that way it seemed like a brilliant idea. An idea began forming in Lacey’s mind. “Do you think the mayor would allow a bench here?” she asked.

Anna Mae smiled gently. “Won’t know until you ask.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. It was your idea, after all. You can organize a campaign to make it happen. Raise the money and get permission. Place a bench for Jacob, right here. Everyone will want to help.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Lacey said, but she could feel excitement building inside her.

“A memorial bench in Jacob Salt’s honor,” Rita Mae exclaimed. “What a sweet thing for you to do for your brother’s memory. It’s perfect.”

“Come back to the B&B with us,” Anna Mae added. “I know I have just the contacts to call for that bench.”

Swept up in their enthusiasm, Lacey followed the sisters to their place. While she waited for Anna Mae to dig through her contacts, Rita Mae offered a plate of cookies and a glass of cold milk.

“I ought to bake my own,” Rita Mae confided.  “But no one makes white chocolate macadamia cookies as good as Marisol’s.”

Lacey smiled as she reached for another cookie. It had been years since she’d had milk and cookies. The sisters clearly thought she was still a child, but she didn’t mind one bit. It felt good to have someone mother her.

Her heart twisted. It had been a long time since anyone had.

“If you want, you can stay for dinner,” Rita Mae said as she took away the empty plate. “We always have more than enough food, and we’d be happy to have you.”

Lacey thought that sounded great. She knew this was where Mallory worked, but her ex-best friend was nowhere to be seen, so it wasn’t even awkward. She opened her mouth to respond with a yes when she recalled that she still had the groceries.

“Sounds wonderful, but I can’t,” she said. “I was running errands for Aunt Payton, and I need to get back. I appreciate the thought though.”

“That’s fine,” Rita Mae said. “Another time.”

She beamed at the older woman, basking in the warmth of her smile. “I’d love that.”

“Here you go,” Anna Mae said as she walked over to hand Lacey a piece of paper with a list of names and numbers. “That should be everything you need to get started on planning the bench for your brother.”

Lacey slid the paper into her purse, feeling energized in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you so much,” she said and meant it. Sometimes it seemed help came from the most unexpected places.

Her heart lighter, she said good-bye to the Pragers and headed home, groceries in tow.

The house was quiet when she arrived, her aunt and grandmother already gone, and she was pretty sure that their visit hadn’t gone as they’d intended it. Still, Lacey thought with a sudden wave of optimism, perhaps
she
would be the one to get her mother’s attention locked onto something productive.

The memorial bench had swiftly gone from being a random idea to a concrete one in Lacey’s mind. It not only gave her something to do, it meant that her mother could help as well.  And that could only be a good thing. In fact, the bench might just be a way to bring her whole family together and honor Jacob’s memory all at once.

She was so convinced that it was the remedy they all needed that she went straight up to her parents’ room to tell her mother. This was just the sort of work that her mom excelled at. Surely this was something that would pull her mom from her lethargy.

She went in without knocking. She knew from experience she’d get no answer.

“Mom,” she said, rushing over to where her mother sat huddled on the bed. “Today when I was in town, I had a wonderful idea. Something we can do for Jacob.” The words spilled out in a rush. “I’m going to organize a drive to finance a memorial bench under the Storm Oak. For Jacob. Won’t that be perfect?”

No response. Her mom didn’t even look up from the photo she was staring at.

“Mom? Will you help me?”

“Not right now, Lacey,” her mother said, not even bothering to look up. Lacey’s heart plummeted. But then maybe she just needed to enlist more help.

Her sister would know what to do.

It took a few hours, several texts, and three phone calls to get hold of her, but Sara Jane finally answered, heard her out, and responded enthusiastically to the idea of the memorial bench.

“So you’ll help me?” Lacey asked her sister.

“Of course I will. We can start by raising money at the shops on the square.”

“That’s a great idea, but I also want to Mom to help, too,” Lacey interrupted. “This is just the sort of thing she’s best at. I’m hoping it’ll help pull her out of her depression.”

“It’s a good thought.” Sara Jane hesitated. “Have you spoken to her about it yet?”

“I tried,” Lacey replied, resignation filling her voice. “But she wouldn’t listen. Maybe if you talk to her? Call her? Or come by or something?”

“I hate for you to get your hopes up.” Her sister sighed heavily enough that Lacey winced. “And she definitely won’t answer if I call, but yes, I’ll come over in a bit. Is Dad home yet?”

“No.”

There was another sigh on the other end of the phone, but her sister’s voice was gentle with affection when she said, “I’ll be over soon.”

Lacey made use of the contacts Anna Mae had given her while she waited. It was late, so the retailers were closed, but most had websites where she could compare prices or submit a form to request an estimate. She needed an idea of how much money they would need to fund the bench. She intended to follow Anna Mae’s advice to get several estimates before she decided who to order from, and from just this cursory research she could tell that Anna Mae had been right. The prices varied greatly.

Sara Jane showed up at the house less than an hour later. “Still no sign of Dad?”

Her sister sounded surprised, but Lacey wasn’t. She doubted he’d be home for hours yet—sometimes he didn’t come home until everyone else was asleep—but she simply said, “No.”

“Oh. Well. Doesn’t matter. We can talk to Mom about it first.”

“If anyone can get her attention, it’s you,” Lacey told her.

Her sister smiled but it was strained. Together they walked up the stairs to their mother’s room. Lacey didn’t think Celeste had moved an inch.

Sara Jane will get through to her,
she reassured herself again. Her sister had always had a way with their mother. She had a way with everyone, really.

Sara Jane went directly to Celeste, perching tentatively on the bed, right at her hip. Her hand covered one of their mother’s, and for a second Lacey thought she saw a light in her mother’s eyes that had been absent for too long.

“Mom,” Sara Jane began, “we have a family project we’re working on. Lacey came up with a wonderful idea to honor Jacob, and I just know you’ll want to be involved.”

“Sara Jane,” Celeste said softly, like she was just now seeing her daughter.

Sara Jane smiled at her tenderly. “Yes. It’s me. We need your help. Lacey, tell her your idea.”

Lacey explained again about the memorial bench to her mother, what they needed to do, and how she was planning to do it.

There was no sign that Celeste was listening, but Lacey forged ahead, too excited about the project to be dissuaded. “And we need to figure out what the plaque should say. Something from all of us,” she finished explaining to her mother, who had yet to look at her.

“What plaque?” her father asked from just inside the doorway of the bedroom.

Lacey hadn’t even heard him come in. She beamed at him. He couldn’t have chosen a better day to come home from work at a halfway normal hour.

She repeated her idea for a bench, hoping he’d like it.

“I think it’s amazing,” her father exclaimed, his smile making her chest feel warm. “I’m sure we can use the pharmacy to help get the word out. We could put out a collection jar or something at the registers. Just tell me how I can help. I’m so proud of you, sweetie, for coming up with something so thoughtful to keep Jacob’s memory alive.”

She felt her eyes tearing up, and for once it was with happy tears. She’d made her father proud. It meant the world to her. Maybe somehow her family would get through this intact. Maybe their loss wouldn’t always make them avoid each other. Maybe this would bring them all back together again.

“Thanks, Dad. I know we can do this if we all work together.”

That seemed to get through to her mother, only not in the way she’d hoped. Celeste’s bloodshot eyes shot to her husband, then to Sara Jane, then finally to Lacey. “This won’t bring him back, so what does it matter? Nothing will bring him back.” She closed her eyes, dismissing them all.

“Come on, girls,” their father said quietly. “Let’s take this downstairs and let your mother rest.”

Lacey tried to shake off what her mother had said. Surely, she’d come around, and in the meantime, she had her father and sister to help her, which made the idea seem more than manageable.

“We can go around and see which local businesses would like to be involved,” Sara Jane offered.

“Great idea,” Lacey told her. “Anna Mae and Rita Mae Prager already agreed to help.”

“I’ll print out some flyers tonight,” her sister said.

The three of them had moved into the dining room.

“I looked up a few different companies that do this sort of thing,” Lacey explained to her father and sister. “Three had pricing information on their websites, and the rest had online forms and are supposed to get back to us tomorrow with estimates. After that, we can decide which one of them to work with and how much money we need to raise.”

“You’ll need to talk with Zeke Johnson and get permission for the bench,” her father said.

“You don’t think he’ll say no, do you?”

“I think it’ll be fine. But you do have to ask. Anyway, it sounds like you’re well on your way to making this a reality.” Travis smiled. “I’m so proud of you both. Tell me what else I can do to help.”