RaeAnne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer\Woodrose Mountain\Sweet Laurel Falls (48 page)

“You look beautiful,” Evie had said when Taryn had tried to take it right off. “It will get easier. Believe it or not, this is good practice and will help you regain your fine-motor skills.”

She didn't want to do that. She just wanted everyone to leave her alone.

“What do you say, Taryn?” she asked. “Are you in the mood for a visitor? It's really up to you.”

It was better than therapy. Evie could talk for her. “Wash…this…off first,” she mumbled, with a gesture to her face with the hand that still worked okay.

Evie rolled her eyes. “You look perfectly fine, but whatever.” To Mrs. O., she said, “Give us five minutes, will you, so we can primp a bit.”

Mrs. O. smiled. “Of course. I can chat with her out in the foyer for a few minutes.”

Evie helped her stand to transfer to the chair and then wiped off the ugly makeup. “Want me to put more makeup on?”

“Eye…shadow,” she muttered in her stupid mushy voice.

Who was here? she wondered. Probably Brittni or Lyndsey. School was starting soon. Maybe they had new cheerleader uniforms to show.

Evie put on Taryn's makeup and it looked okay. Better than what she'd done before.

“Are you ready?” Evie asked.

“Yeah.”

Evie opened the door to let Mrs. O. know she could let the visitor in. Not Brittni or Lyndsey, she saw, surprised. Hannah Kirk. Her old best friend. She looked big and kind of sweaty.

“Hannah. Hi!” Evie smiled, happy to see Hannah.

“Hi, Ms. Blanchard. I didn't know you would be here.”

“I'm helping Taryn for a few days while she settles in at home.”

“That's nice of you.”

“I'm glad to do it,” Evie said. “It's been fun.”

Lie, Taryn thought. She wasn't glad and it wasn't fun. Evie didn't want to be there at all, Taryn could tell.

“I'm sorry I haven't been at String Fever to help you with your mother's earrings,” Evie said. “I'm afraid I've been a little distracted the last few days.”

“No problem. I haven't had time anyway. I've been working pretty long hours at the Snow Chalet. That reminds me,” she said suddenly, pulling her hand out from behind her back. “I brought Taryn a blue raspberry. That's the kind her dad ordered for her the other day. I thought she might like another one. It's so hot!”

“That's really thoughtful of you,” Evie said, smiling.

Taryn stared at it, wishing she could think of something to say.

“It melted a little while I was riding my bike up the hill but I put it in an insulated coffee go-cup I brought from home. It should be okay.”

“Aren't you clever? Taryn, look what Hannah brought you? Isn't that nice?”

She looked at Hannah. At the cup. At her hands. She couldn't hold it, drink it, without help. Like a baby.

“That is the perfect thing on a hot August afternoon. Here, honey, would you like some?”

She frowned. “No.”

Evie blinked. “No?”

“I don't want it.”

Hannah turned pink, like watermelon ice. Taryn felt bad but her words were slippery. She looked at Evie, pleading.

“Later.”

“You're probably full from lunch, right? We can put it in the freezer and then see if you're more in the mood in an hour or so.”

“Good. Yeah.”

“I'm just going to put this in one of the cups from the kitchen and rinse yours out so you can take it home. Will that work?” Evie asked Hannah.

“That would be good. My mom takes that one to work at the grocery store. She might be mad if she can't find it.”

“Why don't you two have a visit for a minute and I'll run to the kitchen to take care of this?” Evie said.

Taryn wanted to yell at her, tell her to stay so someone would talk to Hannah but Evie left too soon.

Hannah looked down at her legs. They were chubby but tan. At least
her
brain could make them work. Finally she looked up. “Your dad said it was okay if I came to visit you, but you don't really want much company, do you?”

No. Go away.
She shrugged.

“I know we haven't really been friends since about sixth grade. I understand. You're smart and pretty and popular and all that stuff. I'm, well, not. But even though we haven't been best friends in a long time, I'm superglad you didn't die in the accident. Everyone is.”

She
wasn't. She should have died.

Taryn frowned. Lots of words crowded her throat but she couldn't say them. Hannah was still pink. She looked at the door but Evie didn't come in.

“This is a really nice room,” she said after a minute. “I love the view. You can see all of Hope's Crossing from here.”

Taryn didn't pay it much attention most of the time, except at night when she saw the lights.

“I've never been up here to your house before. It's a lot bigger than the house you lived in by us on Glacier Lily Drive, isn't it? It's nice.”

Taryn remembered her old house. Her little bedroom, the swing set in the backyard, Hannah just across the street. They'd played Barbies and listened to music all summer long.

Fun. Hannah was always fun.

“Do you remember how you used to stay over at our house and we would dress up in my mom's clothes and make up dance routines to old songs? And we were going to have our own band, remember? You were going to be the lead singer and I was going to play the drums. We called ourselves the Danger Girls and we even painted a sign to put on the bass drum of the set I planned to learn how to play. I found it the other day in the back of my closet. I should bring it over sometime for you to see. It was
really
terrible.”

Taryn laughed out loud, even though her heart hurt a little. She missed that time when she could dance and sing and be silly. She missed it so much.

Hannah laughed with her but then her smile died. “I guess you probably heard my dad moved out earlier in the summer. He's living in Steamboat Springs now.”

“Sorry.” She wanted to say more but the words weren't there.

“I know. It sucks.” Hannah's chubby chin quivered a bit and Taryn wished she could help. “I'm doing okay but it's been hard on my brothers. My little brother Jake—remember what a cute baby he was and how we used to push him up and down the street in his stroller so my mom could have a rest—he's six now and he cries a lot more than he used to. It really gets on everyone's nerves. Caleb is even more of a pill than ever. He's nine. Daniel thinks he's too cool to be upset but he's grouchy all the time.”

Even though she was talking about sad stuff, Taryn thought it was nice to have Hannah here.

“My mom. She cries a lot. She had to get a job and it's been pretty hard. I have to watch my brothers a lot more and cook dinner and stuff. That's why I've been working so much at the Snow Chalet, so I can help out a little.”

She was quiet for a long time and Taryn wanted to say something. “It will improve, right? Remember how we used to dance to that old Howard Jones song, ‘Things Can Only Get Better'? I heard that on the radio the other day and it made me think of all the fun we used to have together. I felt good, you know?”

Tears burned Taryn's throat, remembering. Hannah had been her best friend once. What had happened?

“Working at the shave-ice stand isn't that bad. It's only for another week, until school starts. Just about everybody in town stops in sometimes. Lots of tourists come there, too.” She smiled, pretty. “Cute boys, too. Yesterday a couple of guys came in from California. I didn't have any other customers so they stayed and talked to me for a while, asked me about hiking trails and stuff like that.”

Hannah laughed a little. “If you'd been there, you would have known how to flirt with them. You've always been so much better at that than I could ever be. I just gave them their tiger's blood shave ices and took their money and mumbled something stupid about how they should take the Woodrose Mountain trail for the best view of town.”

“It's…nice.” Taryn meant the trail but all of this, too. Having Hannah here, that she remembered to bring her a shave ice, that she brought back memories of fun and being a kid.

“I'm really sorry about what you've been through, Taryn. You didn't deserve to have such a terrible thing happen to you.”

She did. She deserved all of it. Her fault. Layla was dead and it was her fault.

“And I'm sorry I'm babbling on. I mean, why would you ever be interested in my boring life?”

“I am.” She was. She
was.
Struggling, straining, she lifted her hand to touch Hannah's hand. “Sorry.” For everything. Especially for dropping a friend because she wasn't as popular and probably would never be. It hadn't been nice. Or right.

Hannah laughed. It was a good, big laugh. She'd forgotten. “You're sorry my life is so boring? I don't blame you for that. No one is more sorry about it than I am, believe me.”

The door opened and Evie came back, pretty and smiling.

“It took me longer than I'd expected. I got talking with Mrs. Olafson and lost track of time. Are you having a nice visit?”

Hannah stood. “You know, we really are. But I'd better go. My mom is working late and I have to go fix pizza for my brothers.” She paused. “Would it be okay if I came back, Ms. Blanchard?”

Evie looked at Taryn, the question in Evie's eyes.

Taryn formed the word carefully, so there could be no mistake. “Yeess.”

Hannah had been her best friend. Maybe they could be friends again.

“I just had a great idea,” Evie exclaimed. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“My shift doesn't start until two.”

“Are you free in the morning?”

“I think so. Friday is my mom's day off.”

“Great! I still want to help you make the earrings for your mom's birthday. I've got a few other things I need to do at the store and I've been trying to juggle everything. Why don't I take Taryn down to String Fever tomorrow and we can all work on them together?”

“That would be terrific!” Hannah was happy.

Taryn wasn't. She was scared. She was too different and too many people she knew came to the bead store.

Evie saw her frown. “Are you okay with that? We can go early enough in the day that the only people there will probably be your grandmother and Claire. Won't it be good to spend some time somewhere besides a hospital room and your house?”

Not really. Not when people might stare. But Hannah looked happy and Taryn didn't want to ruin it. She shrugged.

“We'll see you at nine-thirty then. Does that work for your schedule?”

“I think so. I'll call you if it doesn't. Thank you. Thank you so much, Ms. Blanchard. I'll see you both then.”

Taryn watched her go, mad at herself that she hadn't said no. She didn't really deserve friends. She didn't deserve to be happy, to get better. She should tell Hannah to stay away. She would only hurt her again, like she hurt everybody.

* * *

S
LOW
PROGRESS
was still forward momentum. Evie refused to believe it was anything else. She had listened outside the door as Hannah had spoken so kindly and warmly to Taryn. Through the crack in the doorway, she had seen the excitement in Taryn's features at having her friend there to talk to her. Though she hadn't spoken much, Taryn had seemed brighter and far more interactive than usual. Evie was certain she had genuinely enjoyed having her friend over for a visit, just like any other teenage girl.

The whole one-step-forward, two-steps-back thing had her ready to tear out her hair, though. If Evie had expected Taryn to be cooperative after Hannah left, she would have been doomed to disappointment. For the rest of the afternoon, Taryn fought her at every turn. She was sullen and distracted and didn't seem to want to do anything, no matter what Evie tried.

For the first time, she even refused to cooperate with the speech therapist Brodie had hired, a very nice middle-aged woman who, like the O.T., drove from Denver three times a week to work with Taryn.

All in all, what had started as so promising with Hannah's visit deteriorated into a long, frustrating afternoon. By the time the home-care nurse arrived for the evening to help Taryn shower and administer her evening medications, Evie wasn't sure whether she or Taryn was more exhausted. Every joint and muscle ached. She'd forgotten the sheer physical toll this kind of work could take on the therapist, twisting and stretching and lifting.

“I'm coming back tomorrow,” she told Taryn. “You can keep trying, but you're not getting rid of me this easily. What will it take for us to have a better day?”

“Maybe…I should…put makeup on you.”

She stared at Taryn. “You made a joke! Wow! And it was a great one.”

Taryn's smile was tired but mischievous. “No joke. I want to.”

The laugh bubbling up inside Evie was probably just a by-product of her emotional and physical fatigue but she didn't care. It still felt great, especially when Taryn laughed along with her.

Warmth seeped through her like water trickling under the gate of an irrigation canal. Yes, Taryn might be sullen and uncooperative. Who wouldn't be, given the lousy hand of cards she'd been dealt? She was a teenage girl whose world had been completely rocked. Despite it, she had these flashes of humor and grace that made her very, very tough to resist—even for someone determined not to care about her.

“All right. It's a deal. Tomorrow before we go to the bead store, you can put makeup on me when I get here.”

“Even…lipstick?”

The way Taryn still struggled with fine-motor command, Evie shuddered to imagine what she might end up looking like but she vowed not to complain. A surreptitious tissue would take care of the worst of it, if matters came to that. “If you swear to work harder tomorrow, I'll even let you put lipstick on me.”