Unforgivable (7 page)

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Authors: Tina Wainscott

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BOOK: Unforgivable
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Ben smiled. “We’re fine, just discussing a patient.”

Her eyes widened again. “Someone die?”

“No, but a puppy was hit by a car this morning. He’s okay,” he added at her crestfallen look.

“Cool. Let me wash off my makeup, and I’ll take the dogs out.” She emerged without the half-moons of purple over her eyes and matching lipstick. Her short brown hair ended in blonde tips. She was a never-ending font of diatribes about the arguments she had with her mother (over makeup, boys, girlfriends, boys, and clothes) and the fights between her parents. She was helping out after school during this, her senior year, before deciding what she wanted to be in life. 

Katie envied her beyond belief. What she wouldn’t have given to have had teenaged fights with her mom about anything. Or to have had a choice in what she wanted to do with her life. Not that she minded working with Ben. She’d had thoughts of going into nursing, and being a veterinary assistant was close to that in many ways. Since her mama had died, though, Katie hadn’t made one choice of her own.

“How was school?” Katie asked Bertrice later as they shampooed a Great Dane. She held onto the dog while Bertrice lathered. The dog kept eating the suds.

“Blech. Marcy and I got caught smoking in the bathroom, only I wasn’t smoking, she was, but I still got called into the principal’s office. Mom’s gonna have a cow, cause she smelled smoke on me last week and thought I was, like, smoking. I told her, no way, and she said,

I catch you smoking and you’re gonna be, like, under house arrest or something’.”

“You weren’t smoking, were you?” Katie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Naw. I hate the way it leaves my mouth feeling, like an ashtray or something. I got detention, too, next Tuesday, so I’ll be late.” She got a twinkle in her eye and after checking to make sure Ben wasn’t around, lifted the bottom edge of her striped tank top. A gold ring winked from her belly button. “Don’t tell anyone, or Mom’ll, like, skin me.”

Katie was so tickled to be let in on a girl secret, she didn’t even think of admonishing Bertrice. “Where’d you get it done?”

“Guy in Milledgeville does body art and piercing on the side. He’s legit,” she added at Katie’s worried look. “Isn’t it awesome?”

“Cool,” Katie said, using one of Bertrice’s favorite words.

Bertrice beamed and continued to scrub the dog. “You ought to get something done like that. For a change.”

“Ben would skin
me
. Besides, I’m not into that kind of thing.”

“What, like being fashionable? You’ve worn your hair that way for as long as I’ve known you. I’ll bet it’s always looked like that.” Bertrice reached over with a soapy hand and took a strand of Katie’s hair. “Have you ever done anything to it? Like highlighted it or cut it? You’re starting to get the grays.”

“Just a few.” Katie glanced at her distorted reflection on the paper towel dispenser. She’d worn her hair straight and just past her shoulders since she was a teenager. “Ben likes it this way.”

“And what about you?”

She shrugged. “If I had my way, I’d cut it short. Especially for the summer.” Even in the distorted image, she could see the wine stain on her neck. “Maybe to my shoulders. Ben would kill me if I dyed it.”

“Even to cover the grays?”

“Yep. He likes it just the way it is.”

Bertrice rolled her eyes. “I like Ben and all, but I don’t understand why you can’t do what you want with your hair. He’d get used to it.”

“I’ll think about it.” And that’s all she’d do. She didn’t even want to start the discussion with Ben.

“And what about your clothes? I know you wear this boring outfit for the hospital, but what about after work?”

Despite the gentle badgering, Katie was enjoying the conversation. She’d never had a girlfriend before. “I don’t do much after work. Sometimes I pick out something at the K-Mart when Ben and I go out of town. And he orders me things from catalogs.” She pretended to love everything, the same way she’d pretended to love her one Christmas gift from the Emersons every year. Like the bra or the box of tampons.

“Cool stuff?” Bertrice looked skeptical already.

Now it was Katie’s turn to see if Ben was in the vicinity. “Boring stuff,” she whispered. “I don’t go anywhere, so it doesn’t matter.”

Bertrice eyed Katie’s waist. “You wear what, a seven?” 

“Or eight. But I’ve got a flat butt.”

“No, you don’t.” She glanced at her own behind. “At least you don’t have a fat butt, like me. Anyway, I’ve got some stuff you can have. It’s a little out of style, but, like, what does it matter? Step out of middle-aged-lady stuff and start dressing your age.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Katie said with a smile. The prospect of getting something stylish, even teenage stylish, made her giddy. “I wish I’d had someone like you for a friend when I was your age.”

“But you had sisters, didn’t you?”

“Not really. I was the intruder. They were nice, but I didn’t really belong. Don’t get me wrong; I was lucky to have them, to have a home.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes I hate my mom, but then I think what I’d do if she weren’t around.” She gave Katie a sympathetic look. “Hey, we should go shopping sometime.”

“Uh oh,” Ben said, walking around the corner. “Sounds like a conspiracy we can’t afford.”

Bertrice rolled her eyes. “You must make a fortune here, with all your customers.”

“Not when he gives his services away half the time.” Katie never wanted to begrudge Ben his generous nature.

“What else can I do? Turn away a sick or injured animal? It can’t be helped.”

“You’ve got a good heart, Dr. Ferguson.” Bertrice’s smile was genuine.

“Katie, the town council is having a meeting tonight, trying to come up with strategies about the land.” 

That’s what everyone called the acreage the town had been trying to buy for two years: simply,

the land.’  Now that the historical district had been fixed up, even with a board depicting where the old jail and courthouse used to be, the town was vying for more business. Without a historical claim to fame, it was tough to woo people to move to Flatlands. A lot of folks were moving closer to Gray or Macon.

“Celine Inc. still won’t return our calls,” Ben continued. “I think we’re going to send someone up to find their offices. We’re tired of playing games with them. Anyway, we can grab a bite at Pie in the Sky and then you can head on home. I’ll catch a ride from Tate or Harold.”

Katie nodded. She already knew asking him if she could sit in on the meeting would be fruitless. As the suds slid down her hands and down the drain, she felt the first impish glimmer light in her stomach. She pushed it away.

 

Ben preceded Katie into the diner that served as the hub of town despite its non-central location. Dinah Simpson had bought the ailing diner with the money her late husband left her. At forty, her short, black hair and stylish outfits, along with her lucrative business, garnered her more marriage proposals in one week than a woman got in two lifetimes, Katie suspected. The menu was an eclectic mix of down-home and
nouveau
cuisine that Dinah copied from Atlanta restaurants. Every night the specials were something interesting, like salmon with mango salsa and grits or trout with dill and wine sauce. She’d classed up the joint with fancy wallpaper borders and a European décor, then sold out to greed by displaying area advertising everywhere one looked, even in the bathrooms. 

“Hey, Ben!” Dinah greeted with a warm smile. “How’s it going?”

“For a man going to the dogs, as good as can be expected,” he answered.

Dinah and two men at the counter laughed, even though they’d heard the reply every time Ben walked in. 

Dinah’s smile cooled considerably when she laid eyes on Katie. “Hey,” she said, then turned to wipe down a section of counter that already looked clean.

“Hi,” Katie said warmly, then turned to the men. “How are you?”

They nodded, then resumed their conversation.

She joined Ben at a booth, and Linda sauntered over. “Hey ya, Ben. Katie,” she added as an afterthought. “Ice tea?” She waited for Ben to answer, though he nodded for Katie to order.

“People don’t like me,” Katie said when the waitress left.

“Sure they do.”

“You didn’t notice the difference in response we get? It’s so obvious.”

He glanced over her head to see the specials written on a blackboard in florescent marker. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I, Ben?”

He set his menu down and looked across the slate table at her. “Katie, what possible reason could anyone here have to dislike you?”

“I don’t know, but they do. I’m not imagining it.” 

She glanced around the diner. Those who met her gaze nodded briefly—no smile—before returning to whatever they were doing. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t know her. She’d been born in Flatlands but had participated in very little in town. A pink flier in the window asked for volunteers to help at the County Fair. Then Ben would be by himself, and she’d feel guilty all day and more for it.

Harold Boyd walked over and planted his beefy hands on their table. “Hey, ya’ll. How’s it going?”

Katie was pretty sure it wasn’t just the pulsing tic on Harold’s right eyelid that made her uneasy. He couldn’t help that just like she couldn’t help the wine stain on her neck. She nodded before returning her attention to the menu. Maybe it was his bear-like physique or the way he liked to hover just a little too close. 

The men talked over some small-town gossip for a minute, and then Harold rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. “Got to head back to the barn.” She was unnerved to find him looking right at her. “I’ll see you around.” He even touched her arm in an affectionate gesture before heading out.

“See, he’s friendly toward you,” Ben said.

When she drove home an hour later, she was convinced that she was nothing more than a selfish, dissatisfied woman. Everyone worshipped Ben, and he was a wonderful man. She, on the other hand, had leached off of him from the time she was nine, eagerly taking the security he offered. 

When she passed her own driveway, she chastised herself again. 

What are you doing, Katie

Just going to see why he

s back in town, that

s all. 

That was her thought as she turned down the long-unused driveway that led to Silas’s house. The drive wasn’t as long as it had seemed to her that awful day. A warm breeze ruffled through the lush green leaves of the maples and oaks. Then it got darker as the large oak trees took over. And then, there was the house. 

The sawhorses were still set up outside, and Silas was reclining at the top of the porch steps with his dog. He looked like a man who had worked hard all day. And perhaps he had, because new windows were now installed in the front of the house. He was watching her as she pulled next to his car. Or was it a truck? A Lincoln Navigator, one of those SUVs. Very nice, which made her wonder what he did for a living. That’s why she was here, because her curiosity was eating away at her. Curiosity didn’t always kill cats, did it?

He pulled himself to his feet as she stepped out of her car. The Boss merely raised his head and woofed softly. Silas’s gaze never left her as she made her way to him, like a wolf sizing up his prey

“Hi. I was on my way home and thought I’d come by and see how things were going.”
Lame, Katie, so lame.

He glanced toward the house. The front door was on, and he’d installed two new windows. “It’s getting closer to livable.”

“They’re having a town council meeting right now, that’s where Ben is, to see what to do about this property.”

“What do they want to do with it?”

“That’s the big debate. Some want to put shopping centers to attract the area townspeople and travelers to stop. Others want to put some kind of amusement park, with miniature golf and the like. The only thing most of them agree on is that we need to do something. We’ve lost three businesses in the last year, and seven families have moved out of town to find better prospects.”

He regarded her with amused curiosity. She found herself crossing her arms in front of her.

“What do you think they should do with this property?”

“I...” She blinked in surprise. “You know, I’ve never thought about it. No one ever asks my opinion on stuff like that.”

He leaned against the massive column. “As I recall, you were happy enough to supply it anyway. When you were a kid, I mean. You were the feistiest kid I knew, a fighter if I ever saw one. You were also fearless; I saw the scratches on Gary’s face.”

“Fearless,” she said in a low voice, trying to remember that girl. “I was fearless, wasn’t I? And feisty.” Her gaze fastened on the frayed bottoms of his jeans.

“What happened to you, Katie?” he asked after a few moments. His voice was low and soft, laced in Southern honey.

She looked at him at last. “People change, I suppose.”

She could see a visible strain in his posture, as though he wanted to come closer, but held himself back. Which was a good thing, a really good thing. He hadn’t changed much, other than filling out and looking even more interesting than he had before. 

“People are s’posed to change for the better.” He ran his hand back through the long waves of his hair. “What I mean is, people are s’posed to get stronger.”

Should she be insulted by his words? She felt a twinge of something, but not anger. “What do you do, Silas?”

“I work for a newspaper in Atlanta. And you work for your husband.”

“With my husband. I love working with animals. Since Boots’s ordeal, I’ve become very interested in animal welfare. The people in town probably think I’m bossy.”

Silas slid down the column and sat on the top step. He patted the area next to him. “What happened with your kitten?”

She eyed the spot warily, but her body took her to it. She kept a safe distance between them, an appropriate distance between a married woman and a man she didn’t really know. 

“God, I loved that cat.”

“He lived for a pretty long time, didn’t he?”

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