Hidden Deep (12 page)

She took a swallow from one of the glasses lined up before her on the table. “Ryann, this is so good, but my hips and thighs are begging for mercy. I already have ten extra pounds of un-tanned cellulite. I don’t need any more.”

“Please. Don’t give me that.” I shot her a look. “And don’t let any of your friends hear you talk like that, or they’ll want to slap you silly. You look about ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter than any of the other moms.” It was true, though she’d been dying her hair for at least a decade, thanks to the hereditary premature grays.

“Well, I have to admit, the Divorce Diet is pretty damned effective. Maybe I’ll write a book.” She gave me a grim smile.

“Mom? Grandma grew up out here, right?”

“Yep. This place was a small hunting cabin when Momma and Daddy got married. He offered to buy her a house in town, but she loved these woods so much, he added on to this house. Why?”

“Well, I met some old guys today at The Skillet. They were telling me about Grandma when she was young. They said my grandfather told them he found her in the woods and brought her home… like a wildflower.”

Grandma Neena walked into the kitchen, her white curls floating even more wildly around her face than usual. “Oh, Benjamin used to say outrageous things like that—drove everybody crazy.”

I jumped in guilty surprise. “Hi Grandma. I thought you were asleep already. Were we too loud?”

“No ma’am,” she said. “I was thirsty, that’s all. What’s going on in here?”

“Producing a few thousand gallons of sweet tea. I’m starting working at The Skillet next week, and Dory wants me to make tea deliveries even on the days I’m not there. Want some?”

“I’d better not, or I’ll be up for the rest of the night.” She poured a glass of milk and sat down with Mom and me.

I really wanted to ask her about the things I’d heard today, but I hated to bring up painful memories for her. She never spoke of her life with my grandfather.

“Grandma, where was your house when you grew up? I know you lived around here, but where exactly?”

“Oh, way out in the woods. I don’t even know if the old place is there anymore. It’s been so long, I can barely remember life before I met your grandfather and had your momma. Don’t get old, darlin’. This is what you’re in for,” she joked.

Grandma reached over and took my hand on the tabletop and squeezed it. Then she stood quickly—well, quickly for her—and carried her glass to the sink. “Guess I’d better put these old bones back to bed, or I won’t be able to get up and do my chores in the morning. Looks like my top helper’s going to have her hands full tomorrow.” She nodded meaningfully at the gallon jugs lined up on the counter.

“They said you were quite a beauty,” I called out as she padded out of the room.

Grandma stopped for a moment and looked back. “Benjamin thought so, and that was good enough for me,” she said with a wistful smile then continued down the hall.

What was that like, a love so strong the memory of it was enough to sustain her all these years? I’d never be able to deal with such loss. And I had never allowed myself to be in a position to lose anything before.

But now, with Lad—thinking of our conversation today, our kiss—it kind of scared me to realize how afraid I was of losing him. Even scarier—the prospect of being with him, even as “just friends,” was way more appealing than the idea of dating anyone else.

Emmy called early the next morning to tell me she was sick and wouldn’t be going to school, so our usual carpool was off. Mom drove me to school before she went to work. I promised her if I couldn’t get a ride home, I’d walk to Channing’s and study for finals there until she got off. There was certainly no shortage of quiet study space at the funeral home.

As it ended up, I decided not to even ask anyone for a ride. Channing’s was only a mile and a half from the school. I was young and healthy, right? But after about ten minutes on the blistering sidewalk with a full backpack, I started to regret my decision. It must have been ninety-five degrees out with one hundred percent humidity.

I slogged along, sweating and cursing Mr. Allen for assigning a massive year-end U.S. History paper, necessitating the transport of my massive U.S. History book.

A car pulled up beside me, rolling to a stop. It was a huge chunk of metal, an old Cadillac. Mud brown. Glancing over at the driver, I did a double take. Nox was behind the wheel.

I’d never seen him driving before, and
this
was the last vehicle I would’ve expected him to drive. A sleek black sports coupe, sure—even one of those souped-up muscle cars. I was tempted to check the back window of this thing for an afghan and a box of tissues.

“Jump in my lady, your royal chariot awaits,” Nox said through the rolled-down passenger-side window without a hint of automotive shame.

I hesitated for a moment.
Should I?
Then a cool wave of air-conditioning floated past my face. I climbed in. The air inside was blasting at a gas-guzzling, absolutely heavenly sixty-five degrees. I directed the vents at my face and melted into the oversized leather seat. “Royal chariot, huh? I guess that makes someone in this scenario a handsome prince?”

“Shhhh.” He ducked dramatically, one finger over his full lips. “I’m hiding from the stalkerrazzi, and I don’t want them to find out my true identity.”

“Oh, sorry, your Highness,” I whispered with a bow. “So… is this your grandpa’s car?”

He raised an eyebrow at me, grinning, putting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb. “You dare disparage the chariot?”

“No, no.” I giggled. “It’s very… spacious, and I’m sure it was quite hot in its day… whenever that was.”

“1979, as a matter of fact. And I assure you, this car was never, ever hot. But I bought it from an old lady in town who put about forty-eight miles on it total. You can’t argue with the pillow-y ride. Best of all, it was five hundred bucks and it runs.” He shrugged.

“No, I mean, it’s great. It’s just… uh… not what I pictured a Rock God driving.”

Nox frowned. “I told you, Ryann. That’s not the real me. It’s a front.”

“And the real you drives a 1979 brown Coupe De Ville?”

“Exactly.”

I giggled. “Okay then.”

Now he was smiling. “So… where to?”

“Route sixteen? Then I’ll have to tell you the turns—there aren’t any street signs out in the sticks.” I sighed with pleasure, starting to cool down. “Thanks for stopping. I was dying.”

“No problem. I didn’t know you lived out there in the county.”

“Yeah. We lived in town until recently, but after my parents… well, my mom and I live with my grandma now. If it’s too far, don’t worry about it, I can—”

“No—it’s no problem,” Nox interrupted. “I just didn’t know.”

As he drove, I pushed buttons until I found something good on the radio. Adam Levine begged me for one more night, and I relaxed, soaking up the artificial climate perfection.

Sometime after we’d left the bypass and turned onto the county road, Nox pulled over abruptly and slammed on the brakes. Jumping out of the car, he dashed over to the shoulder of the road on my side.

I rolled down my window, alarmed. “What is it? What happened? Did you run over something? Are you going to throw up?”

In answer, Nox beamed at me and bent down to gather large handfuls of Oxeye daisies growing wild along the roadside. He strolled up to my window and presented me a bouquet.

“Flower emergency,” he explained with a nonchalant shrug.

“You are insane,” I told him, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

My smile faded when it occurred to me that this might mean something. Nox got behind the wheel again and resumed the drive home, but I was suddenly at a loss for conversational topics. The last few minutes of the ride were mainly silent.

There was an awkward moment when we reached the log house. I felt like I should invite him in or something.
That would probably be a mistake
. I decided to go with my gut—if I read him right yesterday at The Skillet, Nox was interested in being more than friends, which was a nice balm to my bruised ego. But in spite of his frustrating hot-then-cold behavior, Lad was the one I wanted to be with. I was supposed to meet him in about an hour. Just friends, of course, but I was still eager to see him.

“So… thanks again for the ride.” I opened the door and started sliding out of the front seat.

Nox caught my wrist and stopped me before I got all the way out. “Ryann?”

My heart tripped over a few extra beats. I looked at him a bit wide-eyed. “Yeah?”

“Are we friends now?”

I exhaled and smiled at him. “Absolutely.”

“Give me your phone then.” He let go of me and turned up his palm.

“Why? You need to make a call? Is yours dead or something?” I pulled it from my purse.

“Just give it to me.” He took my phone and put in some numbers then placed it back in my hand. “There. Now if you ever need a ride again, you can call me—anytime.”

“Oh. Okay.” Emmy would die if she knew Nox had given me his number. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Friends did that kind of thing, right? “Well… thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I slid out and started to shut the door, but his voice stopped me mid-slam.

“Hey, don’t forget your flowers.” He held them out to me.

I took them and headed for the back door. My phone rang as I opened it and let myself in. Was Nox calling me? I looked at the screen, relieved to see it was Mom.

Nox was nice—a lot nicer than I’d given him credit for—but he wasn’t the guy I wanted to call me. Not that Lad had ever asked for my number.

“Hi, sweetie. Did you find a ride?”

“Yes. I just got home.”

“Good. Listen, I wanted to let you know, I’m going to be a little late tonight.”

“Another visitation?”

“No. I’m going to have dinner in Oxford with someone. Phil Melvin, actually.” Her tone was defensive, as it should have been.

“
Why
?”

“Ryann! Because he asked, and because he’s a nice man. He’s responsible, well-thought-of…” She left off
deadly boring
.

Phil Melvin went to our church and owned Deep River’s only furniture store, which was appropriate because he had the personality of a piece of wood and strongly resembled a soft, overstuffed sofa.

“But he’s so—”

“I don’t expect you to understand at your age. But trust me—a man like him is the best thing for me. And
you
should be looking for someone solid and dependable, too.”

When I failed to respond, she said, “Well, I’ll see you when I get home. Are you studying?”

“About to. Have fun, I guess.” My tone made it clear I doubted it was possible.

Thursday was the last day of school, and just in time. There was no air-conditioning and the classrooms were roasting. A cool front was predicted to come in overnight, bringing long overdue rain, but when I met Lad in the woods after school, it was still blazing hot.

“Want to swim?” he asked.

“Sure. At the spring-fed pool?” I wore a tank top and some nylon shorts, which would dry quickly, so I wasn’t worried about needing a suit.

“No, there’s another place I know. It’s a bit of a walk, but I think you’ll like it.”

The walk
was
long but worth it when we reached our destination—a two-part waterfall, a stunning, secret place deep in the woods. We came to a stop at the basin of it and looked up at clear water streaming from a high rocky bluff, the tendrils of it fanned out evenly like a comb. Because of the recent dry spell, the water wasn’t gushing—the streams feeding the falls must have been low, but it was still a beautiful sight. Several feet below the bluff, the water landed and ran in sheets down a large sloping rock into the basin. It looked cool and inviting.

“We used to come here when I was little,” Lad said, starting toward the smooth sliding rock, pulling off his shirt and throwing it to the side. He looked back over his shoulder. “You slide down—it’s fun.”

I followed him, nodding and trying to keep my mind on the waterfall instead of his muscled back. Right. It took everything in me not to reach out and run my hand over the perfect sun-browned skin. I took a few deep breaths and folded my fingers into my palms.