Need You Now (32 page)

Darlene was quiet. She swallowed hard. “What I need is a friend. Things with Brad are maybe a little worse than . . .” She took a deep breath.

Layla didn't question her, but grabbed her hand again and squeezed. “There's something you should probably know. When I make a
real
friend, it's a friend for life.” Before Darlene could answer, Layla let go of her hand, then stood up. “So now we're friends.”

“For life.” Darlene stood up too. She thought about her friendship with Gina back in Houston, but their relationship had revolved around the kids and their activities. Darlene hadn't confided in Gina about personal family matters. She missed the companionship, but once Gina's divorce was final, Darlene realized that their friendship wasn't likely to last. “I've never really had a close woman friend who I could confide in. I wonder why that is.”

“Women are catty. Most of us anyway. And a lot of times we don't play well with others.”

Darlene really didn't think she fit into that category, but she was curious why she'd never had any close girlfriends. Then she realized why. Brad had always been her best friend. She'd told him everything.

Layla ate dinner with Darlene and her family the next two nights, then from Wednesday on, Darlene noticed a white car parked out front. Tom, she was sure.

When Darlene saw that the car was gone on Saturday, she went to Layla's.

“Well?” she asked when Layla opened the door.

“It was wonderful. We talked a lot.” She motioned for Darlene to follow her inside, and the first thing Darlene noticed was that Layla had put framed photographs all around the house. She picked up one of Layla standing next to her daughter in a pink dress.

“It looks very nice in here, Layla.” Layla had never looked more radiant, as if she could step onto the big screen without missing a beat. Darlene wondered if she would ever try to make a comeback.

Layla grimaced. “Your eyes are puffy, and you look old.” She studied Darlene's face for a moment longer. “How is everything going? Did Grace go to another counseling session? Those are very important. I wish that—” She stopped, sighed. “Anyway, sit down.”

Darlene touched the deep circles underneath her eyes as she sat down on the couch. “How old do I look?” Without waiting for an answer, she went on. “I think Grace is doing better. The counselor said it was a good session, and her friend Skylar has been coming around a lot. She's good for Grace too.” Darlene laid her head back against the couch. “School starts back next week, though, and I'm worried about that. But I have to trust that God is paving the way for Grace and that she's getting better.”

“What about Brad? Things better there?”

“No.” Darlene closed her eyes. “We're just distant. It started with all this about Grace, but now we just can't seem to reconnect. And I can't figure out why.”

“Men. A difficult bunch.” Layla tucked her legs underneath her at the opposite end of the couch. “I think God is giving me a second chance at happiness. I'm not sure why. But I feel so much better. And not just because of Tom. I don't really know what's going to happen with Tom and me, if too much time has passed or not . . . but I feel better inside. Does that make sense?”

Darlene nodded. “Yes,” she said, even though she hadn't felt the peace that Layla spoke of in a long time. She missed Brad more than ever. They were civil, respectful of each other, but very quiet. Darlene wanted more than ever to wrap herself up in his arms, in his love, and for things to get back to normal between them. But something inside her kept him at bay. And Brad wasn't making any huge efforts for them to be close again either.

The following Thursday, Darlene was making her weekly Walmart run when she ran into Dave again.

“We've really got to stop meeting like this,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hi, Dave.”

“I've wanted to call and check on you, but I don't have your cell number. How's Grace?”

“She doesn't say a lot. If you didn't know what was going on, you wouldn't think she had a care in the world. But her counselor said they're making progress, and to the best of our knowledge, she hasn't hurt herself again.”

“Well, thank God for that.”

Darlene tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, knowing she must look a mess in her gray shorts, faded T-shirt, and flip-flops. “How's Cara?”

“Well . . .” He narrowed his brows.

“Oh no. What's wrong?”

“No, nothing's wrong. Cara just . . . well, she shocked us.” Dave smiled.

“How so? Something good, I see.”

Dave leaned his head back and to one side. “I think I can show you better than I can tell you. Do you have five minutes after you finish your shopping?”

“Sure.”

“I'll meet you at your car, help you unload, then we'll take a drive. It won't take long, and I'd really like to show you what Cara has done.”

“Well, I can't imagine, but I can tell that you're very pleased, so I'd like to see.” She glanced at the list she was working from. “Two more items, so when you finish up, I'll see you outside.”

Ten minutes later, Dave met Darlene at her car. They unloaded all her items, nothing perishable since she preferred to shop at the grocery store for actual food, and once they were done, they walked over two rows to Dave's car.

“Where are we going?” Darlene buckled up as sweat dripped down her face. August in Texas was brutal, and this summer was no exception. She glanced down again at her baggy shorts and T-shirt, then tightened the band on her ponytail. She was a wreck.

“We're going to my house,” Dave said as he pulled out of the Walmart parking lot.

Darlene's stomach quivered for a moment, but then she realized that she had nothing to be anxious about. A few minutes later, they pulled up to an iron gate—similar to Layla's—and Dave pushed a remote on his visor. The gate slowly opened. Dave eased his car down the gravel driveway, and Darlene's eyes widened when Dave's house came into view. She should have guessed from his expensive car and clothes, the private fees he paid for Cara to attend The Evans School, the items he'd bought at the gala . . . Dave was wealthy, and his enormous house was evidence of that.

“I got a really great deal on this property since I'm in the business,” he said, almost as if apologizing. Darlene wondered what he must have thought about their partly restored old farmhouse. Layla had made several comments about it, things she'd change or add. But that was just Layla. Dave was too nice to have said anything.

In front of her, a massive white-brick house hugged a circular drive with lavish flower beds of summer blooms. The driveway curved around a grassy area sporting a fountain. Its water spilled into a small fishpond.

“Wow. This is beautiful.” She let her eyes drift around the grounds. There was a red barn with the traditional white X on the doors. It looked freshly painted. And there was what looked to be a gardening house.

“That was Julie's greenhouse,” he said as he pointed to the structure. “I don't have a green thumb to save my life.” He nodded toward the flowers filling the flower beds around the house. “I paid Bargas Landscaping to put those flowers in.”

“How many acres do you have?”

“Four hundred and sixty, but most of it is leased to Bill Walsh to run his cattle on. Taking care of me and Cara is about all I can handle.” He pointed to his left. “All those Longhorns are Bill's.”

Darlene stepped out of the car, feeling even more underdressed than she did before. Dave was perfectly put together, as always, in his tan khaki shorts and a white button-down polo shirt.
Does the man ever even sweat?
Darlene dabbed at her forehead as she followed him up to the front door.

The entryway was gorgeous, a large chandelier hanging overhead, and to the left was a large granite hutch with a display of pictures. Darlene picked up one of the pictures. “Is this Julie?”

Dave flipped a light on, then walked closer. “Yes.”

“She's beautiful.” Darlene studied the women's exquisite features, her long dark hair, stunning blue eyes.

Dave's hand landed on Darlene's as he reached for the picture and looked at it for a moment. “Yes, she is.” He gazed at the photo for a few moments before giving his head a quick shake. “Come on in. Make yourself at home. I'll get us something cold to drink.”

Darlene looked around the massive living room and wondered why he and Cara needed all this space, but the property was in a prime location and beautiful. If he could afford it, why not?

Dave returned a minute later and handed her a glass of iced tea. She took several large gulps before she asked, “So what did you want to show me?”

“Oh. Cara's paintings.”

“Paintings?”

Dave motioned for her to follow him down a long hallway. He walked into a room on the left that reminded Darlene of Grace's room. Lots of pink. Hanging on the wall was a picture of a chicken, not painted in traditional colors, but in unusual shades of red and blue speckled with white dots. Darlene knew nothing about art, but if someone had told her the piece was worth fifty thousand at an art gallery, she would have believed them. It wasn't just the vivid colors, but the expression on the chicken's face, almost as if the bird was staring right through her. “Dave, that's amazing. When did she do that?”

“Last week. She still brings home pictures that she's drawn at school, and some of them are really good. So I bought her a starter set of acrylics, and this is what she came up with.” He smiled. “I couldn't believe it. So I bought her more paints.” He waved with his hand. “Follow me. I've got one in my study and one in my bedroom too.”

They walked into a large room with an oak desk, a large bookcase, and a sliding glass door that led out into a garden with another small fountain. Dave pointed to a framed painting of a house that hung on the wall. It was in the same color scheme as the chicken, but this was almost abstract. Darlene studied the painting, surprised at Cara's abilities. Cara's pencil drawings at school had been good, but nothing like this. She'd often heard that autistic children sometimes possessed a special talent, but most did not. Perhaps Cara was just now discovering her hidden passion for art.

“And the last one is in my room.”

Darlene followed Dave into his bedroom, which felt a little strange, a little too intimate, like the way she felt at the gala when they were dancing. But she looked where he was pointing. Hanging above his dresser was another framed painting.

She edged closer, unable to take her eyes off it. “Dave . . .” She reached up to touch it, then stopped and just stared in disbelief. She turned to face him. “It's
you
.”

He walked up beside her. “Yeah. Isn't it amazing?”

“Cara has real talent,” Darlene said as she looked at the intricate details of Dave's face set against a background of various shades of green. “How did she . . . I mean, wow.” She smiled. “Her drawings were always good, but who would have thought she could paint something like this? It's beautiful. Truly amazing.”

When he didn't answer, Darlene turned to face him. He was staring at the painting also. “Yeah, I just couldn't believe it.” After a while, he snapped out of the trance he was in and turned to face her. “Come on. I'll show you the rest of the house.”