Pretend You're Mine: A Small Town Love Story (31 page)

She found Karen peering into the dining room. “This is all new. Luke was in such a hurry to get out of that townhouse. He sold it for less than they paid and sold or gave away every stick of furniture. He got rid of everything they owned, everything that was hers.”

“And you think he did that because he wanted to move on?”

“There’s no other explanation.”

“I think there might be. I think you’re wrong about Luke. Let me show you something.” Harper opened the basement door.

“You’re not taking me down there to chop me into pieces to feed to the dogs are you? I’m not ready to be one of those ‘missing and never heard from again’ people,” Joni said.

“Very funny. Now let me just go get my rusty axe.”

“Ha ha.” But she followed Harper down the stairs.

Harper paused outside the door. “Luke is still in love with your daughter. He never stopped.”

“What did he tell you?”

“It’s not what he told me. It’s what I found.” She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. “Go ahead. You can look through it all. I’m going to go make us some coffee.”

Joni nodded, but her attention was on the contents of the room.

Harper gave Joni her privacy and went back upstairs. She took the dogs out in the back yard while coffee brewed.

She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing. But spending years believing your daughter’s husband had cast aside her memory and moved on without a second thought? A mother deserved to know the truth.

She gave it another half an hour before venturing back into the basement with a tray of coffee, sugar, creamer, and tissues.

“Joni?”

She found her sitting cross-legged on the floor holding a photo album. “He kept everything,” she whispered tearfully.

Harper saw the box with the onesies was open. She set the tray down on the floor and sat next to Joni.

“Everything. Every article of clothing, every picture, every newspaper clipping.”

“They were going to have a baby.” Joni ran a finger over one of the onesies. Her eyes welled up again. “I was going to be a grandma.”

Harper handed her a tissue.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Joni said, tears falling freely now. “I always knew it wasn’t, but when I thought he had just moved on ... I blamed him for that. It was easy to point the finger.”

“At the funeral — Oh, God. The things I said to him. And he kept my secret. He knew and never told a soul.”

“Your secret?”

“It was my fault,” Joni said, crumpling the tissue in her hand. “Karen died because of me.”

“I
t was an accident,” Harper started.

Joni shook her head. “I was the reason she was in the accident. I texted her to tell her I was running late. She was reading the text when ... when it happened. The police told me. Luke knows.”

“Joni,” Harper laid a hand on her arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“If I had just waited. I knew she always checked her phone while driving. I should have known not to text her.”

Harper shook her head. “Karen was running late, too. You couldn’t have known that. You didn’t make her pick up her phone. You didn’t make her car drift into the other lane. You’re not responsible.”

“Two little words. ‘Running late.’ They seemed so important at the time.”

“Between you and Luke and your misplaced sense of responsibility,” Harper shook her head. “Neither one of you is to blame. Neither one of you is responsible. It was a terrible accident. Nothing you did or didn’t do caused it. You have to understand that. And blaming yourselves isn’t helping anyone. Is that what Karen would have wanted? The two people who loved her most in this world wasting the rest of their lives blaming themselves for her death?”

Joni shook her head, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off of the album in her lap.

“Blame doesn’t heal anything. Acceptance and gratitude do.”

“How can I be grateful that my daughter is dead?”

“You can be grateful that she lived.”

Joni nodded slowly. “It makes sense, but how? How do you stop thinking about the loss?”

“It’s not easy, but what’s the alternative?”

Joni glanced around the room. “Point taken.”

“Joni, there’s no amount of grief and guilt in the world that will change the past. What matters is what you do now,” Harper said, stirring sugar into her coffee.

“So what does ‘now’ mean for you two?” Joni asked. “Does Luke know you know?”

Harper shook her head. “It’s not a conversation we can have while he’s gone. I don’t know what it means for him, for us, for me. He tells me he can’t love me. I didn’t understand why before. Now that I have a name for it, for her, I don’t know if I can live in her shadow,” Harper said.

“Is that what we’ve been doing?”

“Maybe you’ve been living in the shadow of her death.”

“It’s amazing how much can change in a morning.” Joni sighed and picked up a coffee mug. “I just don’t know how to let go of the guilt.”

“Well, maybe you can start by letting the Garrisons back in?”

***

T
hey started with breakfast at the diner with Charlie and Claire. And it gave Harper hope to see slates wiped clean and what was once a strong friendship began to rebuild.

She wondered what Luke would think if he could see his parents talking about chickens with his mother-in-law and for once was glad he wasn’t present.

Joni might be ready for a fresh start, but there was no telling what Luke would be ready for.

She decided to put it out of her mind. There was no point in worrying about what she couldn’t control. She was relieved to head back to the office on Monday and distract herself with work rather than all the reasons she shouldn’t panic about what Karen and Joni meant to her future with Luke.

She was plowing her way through her to do list when her desk phone rang.

“You’d better send another crew over here cause I’m about to walk off the job,” Frank bellowed through the phone.

“What’s your problem now, Frank?” Harper asked, rolling her eyes.

“My problem? My problem is this idiot lackey didn’t bother showing up to work today and now I’m down a pair of hands for drywall.”

“Does you calling him an ‘idiot lackey’ have anything to do with him not showing up?” she asked mildly.

“Just get an extra pair of hands down here now,” he growled and disconnected.

Harper sighed and hung up. She brought up the week’s schedule on her computer. Every crew was swamped. They had managed to hit critical points in several projects at once and while that was good for the bottom line, it made the logistics tricky. She dialed a few of the foremen and got the answer she knew they would give. “Can’t spare anyone until next week.”

She scrubbed her hands over her face. Well hopefully Frank wasn’t going to be too picky about what pair of hands showed up.

***

S
he hopped out of the car at the job site. Frank was overseeing the addition of an in-law suite on the back of a cute little bungalow for the Delanos. Garrison had built the home ten years earlier, and now that Mr. Delanos’ mother was getting a little lonely, they wanted her closer.

Harper had looked up the plans before she left the office. The addition was going to be a large bedroom with a sunny sitting area and bathroom and good-sized walk-in closet. There was even a private back porch accessed through a set of French doors.

She tugged her ponytail through the back of a Garrison baseball hat and grimly set her shoulders. Time to deal with Frank.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded from where he was wielding a pencil over a sheet of drywall on sawhorses.

“Nice to see you, too, Frank. I’m your extra hands. And before you start complaining,” she held up said hands as a warning, “I’m literally all you’ve got. None of the other crews can spare anyone.”

Frank swore colorfully and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Why me?”

Harper ignored him and looked around the framed-out addition. The insulation was in and the cathedral ceiling was, thankfully, already dry-walled. New windows had been installed, making the whole space feel bright and airy.

“This is really good work, Frank,” Harper said, poking her head into the bathroom.”

“Of course it’s good work. I did it. Why does everyone always act so surprised?” he grumbled.

Harper hid her smile.

“Well, if you’re the best I’m going to get, we might as well get started,” he sighed. “How much can you lift?”

It turned out it wasn’t much, but it was enough to help Frank tackle the walls. Harper was sweating in minutes.

“Bet you’re missing your desk now, huh?” he snickered as Harper huffed and puffed trying to hold an eight-foot sheet in place.

“Can you screw a little faster?” she gasped.

“That’s what she said,” Frank said, nimbly moving the screw gun around the sheet.

“I’m sorry. Was that a joke you just made?”

“Oh, now don’t go getting your undies in a bunch over a ‘that’s what she said’ joke. If you can’t take a joke, you shouldn’t be on a jobsite.”

Harper snorted and stepped back from the wall. “I’m not offended, I’ve just never heard you do anything but whine and complain. A ‘that’s what she said’ joke is pretty impressive.”

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of insults and heavy lifting. Frank showed Harper how to cut drywall using a T-square, her foot, and a utility knife. “Not bad,” he said, rubbing his grizzled red beard as Harper triumphantly snapped a sheet in half. “Let’s put this up and then you can take me to lunch.”

They finished up that afternoon. Harper dumped the dustpan in the garbage bag. “If you’re good to go, I’m going to head out. I have some stuff to catch up on at the office.”

Frank nodded. “I guess you did okay today.”

“I’ll take that as the glowing compliment you meant it to be.”

“I heard you talked to Joni Whitwood this weekend.”

“Did you also hear what I had for breakfast?” Harper rolled her eyes. “Yes. I ran into Joni and we talked.”

“How is she?”

Harper tried to gauge from his expression what his interest in the topic was, but came up empty.

“She’s doing okay.” She slung her bag over her shoulder.

“She’s had a rough time. Her and Luke.”

Harper nodded.

“It looks like Luke’s starting to do better what with you and all. It’d be nice if the same could be said for Joni.”

“Do you know her?”

He looked at the toes of his boots. “I used to. A long time ago.”

She waited for him to continue, but he went back to checking the lid of the drywall mud.

“Will you need help tomorrow?” Harper finally asked, digging her keys out of her bag.

“I’ve got the mudding covered. You can go back to sitting on your ass behind a desk.” The rudeness was there, but it sounded softer somehow.

“You’re welcome, Frank. I’m happy I could help, too,” she quipped on her way out the door.

T
he Fourth of July was an even bigger deal in Benevolence than the Not-So Polar Plunge.

The town festivities kicked off in the morning with the Red, White, and Blue 5k. Aldo had surprised her the day before with an American flag tank top and a racing bib.

“A 5k? I can’t do a 5k!”

“Like hell you can’t. If I’m doing it on this stupid hand cycle, you’re running with me.” He had flopped down on her couch.

Aldo’s therapists had put the kibosh on him walking the race on his new leg and instead wrangled a hand cycle for him.

“If you’re flailing around like an idiot beside me, no one will notice ol’ Peg Leg Aldo on the freaking circus bike.”

“Don’t even pretend you’re embarrassed. You’re going to eat up all the attention,” Harper poked him in the shoulder.

“It’s kind of hard to impress a girl when you’re acting like you’re handicap.”

“Just take your shirt off and no one will care if you’re doing the race on a miniature pony. Is there any girl in particular you’re trying to impress?”

He took a swig of water. “Maybe.”

Now they were lined up next to each other at the start. There had been a flurry of people coming up to shake Aldo’s hand, hug him, and thank him for his service. He handled the attention gracefully. She thought about the reclusive Luke on the receiving end of attention like this. The well-meaning attention after Karen’s death must have smothered him.

More racers filled in around them at the start line and the clock ticked toward 9. Harper put a hand over her fluttering heart. “I’m so nervous! Is it normal to be nervous?” she hissed at Aldo.

“It’s not nerves. It’s excitement.”

The race’s announcer cut in on their conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for our National Anthem, sung by Peggy Anne Marsico.”

Aldo climbed off of the bike to stand at attention in a military salute. Harper felt tears well up watching a man who gave so much for his country salute the flag.

What would Luke and his unit do today to celebrate? Was it just another day? Or did they celebrate with the rest of America?

Peggy shocked Harper back to present with an amazing soprano. An entire crop of goose bumps shot up on every inch of her skin.

She stood in the sunshine of a beautiful Fourth of July morning and basked in her pride of the man she loved and his best friend.

***

“O
h my God. I’m dying. Aldo, I’m dying,” Harper gasped.

“If you couldn’t talk, I’d be concerned.”

“You’re not even out of breath,” she muttered.

He flashed her a grin. “You’re fine. You’ve got a great pace.” He waved from his bike at a group of kids cheering from the end of their driveway. Almost the entire course had been lined with Benevolence residents. Harper could see Mrs. Moretta’s house coming up on the left, but she wasn’t outside.

“Where’s your mom?”

“Finish line probably.”

“How much farther? I don’t think I’m going to make it. Maybe I’ll just wait here. You can come back and pick me up.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Do you hear the yelling?”

“I can barely hear anything over the wheezing of my lungs.”

“That’s the finish line.”