The Spring of Candy Apples (A Sweet Seasons Novel) (14 page)

“What do you mean?” Candace asked. “She’s there all the time.”

“Directing yes, dancing no. This whole thing hinges on her. Without a star we’re nothing more than a glorified chorus line.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped further.

“Roger, relax, I’m sure Becca can dance.”

“You would think so, but some of us are getting concerned.”

“Then why don’t you ask her about it?” Candace asked.

“I’m afraid to.”

“Okay, why doesn’t Gib ask her?”

“I think he’s afraid to too.”

“So, you’re telling me this because . . . ?”

“I’m hoping you can talk to her.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Please?”

“Okay, I guess I can talk to her about it,” Candace said.

“Thank you! That would be awesome.”

“You know, I’m sure you’re all worrying for nothing,” Candace said. “I mean, whose idea was it to do the Irish dancing?”

“Becca’s.”

“See, she wouldn’t suggest something that she couldn’t do.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m definitely right.”

“But you’ll still ask her?”

“Yes, Roger, relax.”

“I’ll try.”

“So, are you off probation with the Muffin Mansion yet?”

He shook his head. “Not until after Talent Show.”

She stared at him for a minute. “Is this why you’re stressed out?”

“I’m sure it isn’t helping,” he said, misery clear in his voice.

She came out from around the counter and gave him a hug. “It’s going to be okay, Roger.”

“I hope so,” he sighed.

Roger left, and Candace went back to the cash register. Five minutes later Becca came through the door. From the look on her face it wasn’t a happy coincidence.

“Hi, Becca.”

“I know Roger was in here. Spill.”

Candace cleared her throat. “He just has some concerns.”

“Concerns?” Becca asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

“About?”

Candace squirmed. This was not the way she wanted to go about having this conversation.

“It’s about Talent Show, isn’t it?”

Candace nodded.

“And, I’m guessing he’s not the only one?”

“No, he’s not.”

“So, what is it?”

“They’re just worried because none of them have seen you dance yet.”

“I knew it!” Becca said.

“So, maybe you could just do your part in practice this week just so they can calm down,” Candace suggested.

“I can’t do that,” Becca said.

“Why not?”

“I can do Irish dancing. I had five years of lessons as a kid. That’s not a problem. I showed all of them how to do it and they’re fine.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“In order to dance as fast as I have to and jump as high as I need to for my part, I have to be jacked up on sugar.”

“Oh,” Candace said.

“So, you see my problem. I was trying to avoid doing my part until the actual Talent Show.”

“Well, maybe you can show them what it looks like a bit slower,” Candace suggested.

Becca shook her head. “I’ve tried to do that part slow, without sugar, and I trip over my own feet. If I show them that, they’ll panic for sure when there’s no need to worry.”

“Well, just explain the problem to Gib. He takes such an active role in keeping you away from sugar that I’m sure he’d understand.”

“Maybe.”

“I think that’s your best option.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

She turned and left, and Candace shook her head. A minute later, Sue walked in.

“Not you too!” Candace said.

“What?” Sue asked, startled.

“Never mind, what’s up?”

“I wanted to tell you that I need to push back practice tomorrow night by twenty minutes.”

“That’s easy. Done. Anything else?”

“No,” Sue said, looking at her like she was crazy. “But Candace?”

“Yes?”

“I think you need to relax, you’re acting a bit high-strung.”

Candace smiled. “Thanks for the tip.”

14

When Candace got home, Tamara was already waiting for her in her room. She had strewn half the contents of Candace’s closet on every surface she could find. Candace sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to putting it all back after Tamara left.

“Well?” Candace asked.

“I’ve narrowed down your choices to what you see on the bed,” Tamara said.

Candace looked closely at her bed. “I see a pair of my jeans and a bunch of your clothes.”

“Exactly,” Tamara said brightly.

“Tam, as much as I love your clothes, I want to wear my clothes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Long, long afternoon,” Candace said.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay, then let’s get you packed.”

“That’s what I love about you, Tam. There’s no stopping you when you make up your mind about something.”

“That’s true.”

“Show me what you’re thinking.”

It took over an hour, but they finally agreed on several outfits including one just-in-case formal. Tamara opened one of Candace’s drawers and tossed a bikini onto the pile of clothes.

“What’s that for?” Candace asked.

“I think they have a pool.”

“Oh.”

Tamara snagged a pair of boots out of the closet. “Do you think they have horses?”

“Tam, change your address; you’ve officially moved to Fantasyland.”

“Can’t blame a girl for dreaming.”

When they finished, they sat down on Candace’s bed and surveyed the damage.

“I think we did well,” Tamara said.

“I think I have enough clothes packed for three weekends,” Candace sighed.

“You know, if they ask you to stay next week, it would be okay with me,” Tamara said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally excited that you’re spending the week at my house, but I’d understand.”

“And something tells me you and your bikini would be putting in a regular appearance,” Candace teased.

“You know it.”

Candace hesitated. She knew she needed to talk to Tamara about college, but she had been putting it off. She wasn’t going to get a better opening, though.

She hugged Tamara. “I’m so grateful to have a best friend who understands,” she said.

“Me too,” Tamara said.

“We’ll be best friends forever, no matter what.”

Tamara’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to go to Florida Coast, aren’t you?”

“I think so,” Candace said.

Tamara stood up abruptly, her eyes flashing fire. “Candace, we’ve been planning UCLA for years. That’s the only place I even applied. How could you turn your back on me and go to some school in Florida you never even heard of until a couple of months ago?”

“Because I think it’s the right thing to do,” Candace said. “Up until a couple months ago I didn’t have any ambition, any plans. Now I do.”

“So, what, you think I don’t have any of those things? Well, I do. I planned to go to UCLA with my best friend. Suddenly that’s not good enough? What, you want me to be a doctor or lawyer or something? Kurt wasn’t good enough for you and you dumped him. Now you’re doing the same thing to me.”

Candace had never been so angry at Tamara before. She stood slowly, hands balled into fists. “Knock it off, Tammy!”

Tamara turned completely white and started shaking. “How dare you say that to me!” she hissed.

Tammy had been what Tamara’s one truly evil relative had called her when she was little, refusing to acknowledge that it wasn’t her name. Tamara hated the name with a passion and until that moment Candace would never have dreamed of using it.

“Because you’re acting like a spoiled five-year-old, and it’s really ticking me off,” Candace said, forcing her voice to be cold.

In that moment it seemed like their entire friendship flashed before her eyes, and Candace believed it was the end. It was a stupid thing to throw fifteen years of friendship away on, but there was a line in the sand. She stood her ground and matched Tamara glare for glare. Once upon a time she would have caved, apologized, and backed down. Not anymore. They stared at each other for what seemed like five minutes without saying a word. Then, to her surprise, Tamara crumpled to the floor and buried her face in her hands.

She cried, and Candace let her. She knew that this was as hard on Tamara as it was on her, maybe even more so. Candace was breaking their long-standing plan to go to college together. Tamara must feel left behind.

Finally Tamara looked up; her eye makeup running down her cheeks. “You promise me you’ll call every other day?”

“Yes.”

“Promise that you’ll come home on breaks and I can visit you.”

“I promise.”

“Promise that I’ll always be your best friend no matter what?”

“Always,” Candace said, taking a seat next to her on the floor.

Tamara threw her arms around her neck. “Florida isn’t going to know what hit it,” she sniffled.

“Neither is UCLA,” Candace said.

“You’re right, we can cause more damage apart,” Tamara said, choking on a laugh.

“Absolutely. I’ll shake up the East Coast, you shake up the West Coast, and I’ll meet you in Texas,” Candace said.

“And we’ll have barbeque,” Tamara said.

“The best in Texas.”

The next day, Candace found herself again under the crosses in the Holiday Zone. She didn’t know exactly why, but it seemed like they kept calling out to her. She had been a Chris tian since she was four and had seen dozens of crosses both small and large, but somehow these touched her more deeply.

“Hello,” a soft voice said beside her.

She turned to see Lisa standing next to her.

“Hi.”

She wasn’t sure what else to say so she turned back to the crosses. They stood for a minute in silence before Lisa broke it.

“Thank you for inviting me to your youth group.”

“I’m glad you came, although I was sorry that I didn’t get a chance to talk with you afterward,” Candace said.

“I really wasn’t in the mood to talk.”

“I get like that sometimes,” Candace said.

“I’m jealous of you,” Lisa said. “And I don’t know how to stop. I’ve been thinking about it, and no matter how many times I try to hurt you, it never works out that way. I feel like I’m only hurting myself.”

“There’s really not that much to be jealous of,” Candace said.

Lisa laughed, a soft bitter laugh. “I think the sad part is that you really believe that.”

“Everything that’s happened to me is not that big a deal.”

“Don’t, please.”

“Okay,” Candace said. She had no idea how to help Lisa. She was still somewhat amazed that she wanted to help her.

“My parents are not nice people,” Lisa said. “I moved out last year on my eighteenth birthday and tried my best to forget my past. I got myself a job and a nice boyfriend who made me feel safe. I managed to trash the relationship, though, and I put my job at risk by taking my anger and frustration out on you.

“You have a good home and parents that care. You waltzed in here and managed to win over everyone here, including Kurt. You got the fame, the praise, and the guy. The worst part was, you didn’t even seem to appreciate what you had.

“I’d have given anything to have what you were handed on a silver platter. Life’s not fair, though. I learned that before I learned how to walk, and yet it still surprises me sometimes.”

“I’m so very sorry,” Candace said, not sure what else she could say.

“I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what makes you special. It wasn’t looks, or wit, or talent. I finally convinced myself that you weren’t special, just incredibly lucky.

“But you are special. I’ve finally begun to see it. The funny part is, it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with what you believe. I hated being at your youth group. Everyone there has had a good life, a decent upbringing, and no understanding of how cruel the world really is. I did like what your pastor said about God, though. That he saw and cared even when no one else did. I want him to see and care about me.”

“He already does,” Candace said quietly. She pointed to the cross. “That’s what this is all about. Jesus sacrificed himself for each one of us.”

“No one has ever sacrificed anything for me,” Lisa said.

“Yes, someone has, and now you know it.”

“I think I know why so many people like to say they don’t know if there is a God.”

“Why?” Candace asked.

“If they acknowledge that he exists, then the burden is on them to do something about it.”

“You know there’s a God,” Candace said.

“Yes, I can’t explain it, but I know he must be real.”

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

“I want to be like you.”

“All you have to do is ask Jesus into your heart and to forgive you for what you’ve done.”

“I’m afraid,” Lisa said.

“Of what?”

“Of losing who I am. If I let God forgive me, does that mean I have to forgive others?”

Candace bit her lip as she struggled to figure out how to answer her.

“No, you don’t have to, but ultimately I think you’ll want to. It will make your life better. Look at what you said about me. How you felt about me only hurt you. But, no, it’s not a requirement of salvation, although it often ends up being something of a side effect.”

Lisa nodded. “Will you pray with me?”

“Yes.”

Standing there under the cross, they bowed their heads and as Lisa prayed, Candace began to cry.

“Let’s take it from the top,” Candace said, picking up her stacking cups.

“Stonehenge at quarter speed and in rhythm,” Pete said.

“Then the Eiffel Tower at half speed with take down slightly faster,” Sue said.

“Last the Pyramids of Giza at full speed with lightning take down,” Traci said.

Corinne nodded. “If we can pull this off, it’s going to look amazing.”

They had finally gotten all three patterns down. Doing it in order and at the right speed was the next challenge. Talent Show was coming up fast, and Candace could tell they were all getting worried. She figured all they needed was to make it through once, and then they wouldn’t have to stress until after Easter.

Pete knelt and began to pound out the rhythm for Stonehenge. Then they began. She kept her eye on Sue as she worked. She and Sue were still evenly matched in speed. Sue was slightly better at staying with the rhythm, so watching her helped.