Right Where We Started

CHAPTER TWO

AUDREY SLOWED THE car and peered closely at the Dublin home as she passed. For the last eleven years, she’d averted her eyes anytime she drove by, trying to pretend the family who lived there no longer existed. It was a silly mind game, but she did it as a kind of homage to Win, aka her sister, Calinda—Callie to everyone else. If Win was no longer allowed to exist in her world, it seemed only fair the boy who caused her death shouldn’t have a place in it, either.

But he’d appeared back in her world today—in a prominent place in her daughter’s life—and the unfairness of it all made Audrey’s eyes blur with tears. Tess would never have the opportunity to share even a single memory with her Aunt Callie, yet memories of Mark Dublin would be permanent.

He wasn’t the same Mark she remembered, though. Not physically. Oh, the deep-set green eyes with the long dark lashes women would kill for were the same. But the golden highlights in his light brown hair were more prevalent, and the tan he always sported was darker. Permanent. Had he actually grown a couple of inches? He seemed taller, and she’d noticed the corded muscles in his arms with not an ounce of fat. His legs had always been hard and sinewy; the rest of his body had caught up.

Audrey chastised herself for lingering on those thoughts too long and forced her focus onto the house she was inching past.

The white cottage, with its hunter green door and shutters, looked as neat and tidy as ever with the lawn mowed and the boxwood hedge trimmed to perfection. Deloris’s foundation plantings of Annabelle hydrangeas were in full-bloom, as were the climbing roses that covered the trellis outside what used to be Mark’s bedroom.

Was he living there? Audrey’s chest tightened at the thought and then squeezed hard as the answer to the question came into view when she made the turn onto Beecher Road. A bicycle leaned against Pete’s oversized garage at the back of the property. Fully equipped with all the bells and whistles necessary for the serious enthusiast, it wasn’t something she could picture either Deloris or Pete riding and unfortunately brought a head full—and a heart full—of memories to the surface, along with the sickening realization that Mark was once again her nearest neighbor.

She stepped on the gas and sped past the ancient weeping willow at the edge of the pond. No way was she going to let memories of that favorite childhood hideaway steal into her thoughts.

Not today, and not ever if she could help it.

Fifty yards down the road, she turned into the familiar driveway leading back to the green, two-story frame house she would always call home.

As she came through the door, Faith met her with a smile, which immediately shifted into a look of concern. “That didn’t take long. You okay?”

Audrey looked past her toward the kitchen. “Where’s Mom?”

“Out back.” Faith’s thumb pointed over her shoulder. “We’ve been watching the robins in the birdbath. I just came in to fix her another tea.” She held up an empty cup. “Want some?”

Audrey tossed her bag onto the recliner. “Not unless you’re lacing it with Wild Turkey.”

“Sorry.” The preacher’s wife grinned and gave a shrug. “Earl Grey straight up, I’m afraid. But tell me what has you needing bourbon at nine thirty in the morning?”

The scarf around her neck added an additional weight on her shoulders she didn’t need. Audrey jerked it off and threw it on top of her bag. “Mark Dublin is Tess’s teacher.”

“Well...yeah.”

Faith’s head tilted in question, as if what Audrey was implying wasn’t obvious, so she spelled it out. “Nobody bothered to tell me he was back.” Her hands flew up in a gesture of annoyance and landed on her hips.

“We, ah, everybody figured the less said the better. If we didn’t make a big deal out of Mark’s being back, we hoped you could forgive and move on...” Faith’s voice trailed off.

Audrey was incredulous. “Forgive and move on.”

“Yeah. I mean, everybody remembers how the two of you were inseparable from the time you were...what? Five?” Faith held up a finger. “Hold on. I want to check on Helen.” She moved to the kitchen window and peeked out. “She’s fine, still watching the birds. Anyway, we hoped you could be friends again. You haven’t had any contact?”

“No contact. Not for eleven years.” The emotion of the morning finally caught up with her, and Audrey slumped into the nearest chair. “I’m sorry, Faith. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’ve been so kind about helping with Mom.”

Faith gave a dismissive wave.

“But, seeing Mark this morning was such a shock to my system. I never dreamed... Until this morning, we hadn’t spoken since the day of the funeral.” She took a deep breath, but the air seemed weighted with sorrow and it filtered through her system. “How could people think I would do that? Have they completely forgotten about my sister? About what happened?”

Faith pulled a chair up next to her and took her hand. “Nobody’s forgotten Callie. Her death shook our town to its core.” She leaned down slightly and caught Audrey’s eyes, held them with her own. “But it was an accident. Accidents happen. Nobody’s going to think any less of you if you and Mark make your peace now. Fact is, everybody’s been kind of relieved, thinking you might be...” She paused. “Friends again.”

Audrey blew out a frustrated breath. “Welcome back to Taylor’s Grove, where everybody knows your business—sometimes before you even know it yourself.”

Faith winked and gave her a small smile. “Only sometimes.”

“But they don’t know what’s in here, Faith.” She pointed to her head and shook it, trying to rid it of the images that had been popping up ever since Marta had said Mark’s name. “I keep hearing him dare her to go up those steps. Me begging her not to.”

Faith squeezed her hand. “I know it was horrible. But no matter how many times you relive it, you’re never going to change the outcome. So every time you relive it, you’ve wasted precious time in your life. Time you could’ve spent remembering the good times, like she would want you to.”

“At some level, I know you’re right.” Audrey pressed a thumb and middle finger into the area over her eyebrows and pushed to release the tension. It didn’t help. “But I have a child now. She’s my whole life. And I’m expected to entrust her care to the person whose thoughtless words sent my sister up those steps?”

“Callie took the dare, Audrey. She made the choice.”

Audrey’s teeth clenched so hard, a pain shot through her jaw. “But if Mark hadn’t dared her, there wouldn’t have been a choice to make.”

Faith looked at her a long time before she spoke. “From the day we’re born, our lives are filled with the choices we make. We act on those choices, and all of our actions have consequences, either good or bad.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “If one solitary mistake is going to be the criteria we’re judged on for our entire life, most of us would be afraid to do anything. And not doing anything can do just as much harm.”

Was Faith saying she should’ve done more to stop Win that night? That weight of guilt had lain in the pit of her stomach for so long it probably had moss covering it.

“You’re back at home now with a child and a mother to watch over,” Faith went on. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. Don’t make the pressure worse by dragging around the worries of the past. Like the book of Matthew says, ‘Today’s trouble is enough for today,’ sweetheart.” She gave Audrey’s hand a motherly squeeze before letting go.

Audrey couldn’t deny she was feeling pretty overwhelmed, and sitting here talking was not taking care of any of the multitude of things she had on today’s list. She stood and picked up her mom’s cup, which still sat empty on the table. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Faith looked at her watch. “I need to be going, but I can come back this afternoon if you need me.”

Audrey shook her head. “I appreciate it, but Miss Gertie told me I could use the adult day-care program at the nursing home when I need to—until Mom gets to be too much for them to handle.”

The shadow in Faith’s eyes said she didn’t expect that wait to be too long, but she covered it quickly with a smile. “You know my number. Call me anytime. Day or night.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“I’ll go out this way and tell Helen ’bye.” Faith let herself out the back door while Audrey filled her mom’s cup with tea from the pot sitting on the counter and stirred in two sugar cubes and a spoonful of milk.

As she came down the back steps, she saw the vacant look in her mom’s eyes change to a questioning one.

“Hey, Mom. It’s Audrey. I’m back from taking Tess to school.”

Recognition dawned slowly as her mom took the cup and sipped from it. The doctor had given specific instructions not to rush her with too much information too quickly—give her mind time to process one thing at a time.

“The little girl’s at school.” It was a statement instead of a question, which Audrey took as a good sign.

“Yes. Tess is at school.” She really needed to unpack Tess’s things and get the child’s bedroom set up. Making this place home to her daughter as quickly as possible was a top priority. But she could spare a few minutes to sit and enjoy the quiet time with her mom.

“Does she like her class?” A bright red cardinal landed in the birdbath, capturing her mom’s attention, and Audrey thought it might be a good time to ease into the subject of Tess’s unfortunate nonchoice of teachers.

“Yes. I think she does. She’s in Mark Dublin’s class.”

Her mom’s face broke into a smile, though her eyes remained on the bird. “I’m glad they’re in the same class.”

Audrey’s heart sank. Her mom had a hard time remembering who Tess was. She even called her Audrey most of the time. “Mark is the teacher,” Audrey said gently.

Her mom nodded. “He taught her to ride a bike. They’re such good friends.”

Audrey wished she’d fixed herself some tea. Maybe the warmth would loosen the lump that appeared in her throat. “Yes, they...were,” she whispered.

But everything’s changed now.

* * *

THROUGH HIS CLASSROOM WINDOW, Mark watched the parents gather on the sidewalk in front of the school to pick up their children. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t watching for Audrey in particular, but his heart betrayed him by doing a quick double beat when she appeared, and he had to think back to what had been on his tongue before his thoughts had been spirited away.

What was it? Oh, yeah. “Next week, we’ll begin our unit on animals, and we’re going to cover this wall with pictures of all kinds of them.” He walked over to the azure-blue wall next to the door and patted it. “If you’d like to, you can bring a picture of your own pet or a pet you’d like to have.” He had quite a collection of animal pictures he’d taken in Africa, and he couldn’t wait to see the children’s faces when they got their first look at some of the wild beasts he’d encountered.

An excited titter went through the group as they all started talking at once. All except Tess. She’d been talkative all day—not the least bit shy—but suddenly it appeared the cat had her tongue.

Before he could make his way to her, the bell rang and the kids converged on him like a swarm of bees, each wanting to give the first hug goodbye. As he opened the door into the hallway, Tess got up slowly from her seat and stood at the end of the hug line. He exchanged squeezes with them, telling each child, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” But when he got to Tess, she latched on to his neck and started sobbing.

“Hey.” His heart wobbled at her emotion. Had he done something to upset her? “What’s the matter?”

The child’s sobs became wails, and she clutched him tighter.

“Can you tell me why you’re crying?” She shook her head, and he stooped down, positioning himself at her eye level. When she let go, he’d be right there. “I’ll bet you can if you try.” Dampness soaked into his shirt, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d just wiped her nose on his shoulder. “Usually we find out things aren’t so bad if we talk about them.”

“What’s going on? What did you say to her?” Audrey appeared beside him, her tone sharp with accusation.

“I’m not sure what upset her.” He tried to stand, but the little girl’s grip held tighter as her mom tried to pry her away. Afraid of losing his balance, he sat down in the floor.

Audrey shot an angry glare his way before kneeling down beside Tess. She patted her daughter’s back. “What’s wrong, punkin? Why are you crying?”

“I want my kitty,” the child blubbered. “I miss Bobcat.”

It was Mark’s turn to send accusing glances. “She has a bobcat for a pet?”

“No, her stepmom has a tomcat named Bob, so they all call him Bobcat.” Audrey’s eyes misted over, too, and Mark shot her a not-you-too look. “He lives with Tess’s father’s family in Florida,” she said.

Tess finally loosened her death grip and tilted her tearstained face up to look in his eyes. “But I wanted to bring him here with me.”

“We couldn’t.” Audrey kept her voice as gentle as the touch she used to guide Tess into her own arms. “He’s lived with his family for a long time, and he would miss all of them a lot.”

“But... I miss...him.” Tess sniffed, her voice catching on her stuttered breaths.

“I know you do.” Audrey kissed her daughter’s forehead.

Mark’s insides twisted as the hidden memories of that touch fought to break free. He shifted his attention back to Tess. “So it upset you when I said you could bring a picture of your pet to put on the wall? It made you miss Bobcat?”

Tess’s bottom lip jutted out and she nodded.

He smiled and wiggled her nose with the tip of his finger. “Well, having a picture of him with you might help you not miss him so much. Or—” he added some excitement to his voice “—remember I also said you could bring a picture of a pet you’d like to have. Anything you want. A cat or a dog or a seal or a zebra.”

Tess’s eyes widened. “Or a dolphin?”

He nodded and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Or a dinosaur! Any animal you want. Think you can find one?”

She nodded and reached for Audrey’s hand.

“You don’t need to bring it until next week, so you have plenty of time to look and decide on one. Okay?” She nodded again. “Okay then. See you tomorrow.” He allowed his eyes to travel from the child to the mom with the same message.

Tess let go, then ran back to her desk and started rummaging through it.

Mark took the moment to ask the question that had been on his mind since that morning. “Could we, ah... Could we talk sometime? In private?” He scanned Audrey’s face, watching for the true reaction that would come right before she settled the mask of hatred in place.

“You can talk to me anytime.” There it was! Just a brief glimpse of wistfulness, but enough that his heart surged with a hope—right before the guilt tamped it down. “As long as it has to do with Tess,” she added pointedly.

Tess ran back to them and thrust a piece of paper toward his face. “I made this for you.”

The shape of a heart drawn with a child’s unsteady hand, colored with a hurried scribble of bright red.

“Thank you, Tess.” He patted the child’s mass of red curls and from the corner of his eye caught the tight look of displeasure on Audrey’s face. Whether it was Tess’s ready affection for him or his pat on her head that caused it, he wasn’t sure. Probably both. “I’ll hang it on my wall.” He pointed to the space behind his desk that proudly sported all sorts of drawings the other children had made for him.

Audrey turned toward the door and was leading her away. The child turned back to wave. “See you tomorrow.”

He waved and nodded.

This was going to take a very long time. But today was the start. With nine more months of school, he had approximately one hundred and eighty more days to win back Audrey’s friendship and the forgiveness he desperately longed for.

CHAPTER THREE

Labor Day

“I STILL CAN’T get over how much Tess looks like you, Audrey. Every time I see her, I’m back in grade school again.” Bree Barlow shifted the toddler in her arms to her other hip. “She getting along okay? She seems to have adjusted well to the move.”

Audrey craned her neck to check on her daughter’s whereabouts, finding her at the picnic table with a group of children whose faces were shiny and wet—and no doubt sticky—with watermelon. “Yeah, she’s doing great. And I can’t deny she’s a mini-me although I see a lot of her dad’s personality in her.” She reached out and stroked a finger down the tiny face resting on Bree’s shoulder. “Isaiah’s precious, too, and what a big boy!”

Bree nuzzled her nose into his hair and kissed the top of his head. “He’s a handful—literally. I may have to grow another set of arms when the other one gets here.” She patted the bump on her tummy.

“Two children under the age of two.” Audrey shook her head in mock sympathy. “What were you thinking?”

Her friend laughed and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Thinking had no part in it.”

Audrey laughed, too, and fanned her face, which flushed at the innuendo and the heat of the late-afternoon sun. It was nice to have time with Bree again. Although a couple of years older, she’d taken Audrey under her wing when they’d been cheerleaders together in high school. And she’d been a godsend when Win died. Having lost her dad two years earlier, she knew exactly the right things to say.

But today wasn’t the time to dwell on sad events. Days like this, full of celebration and mingling with old friends at the park in the center of town, confirmed to Audrey that she’d made the right decision moving back. The resort where they’d lived in Florida had been a small community, but it wasn’t the same as being home. Everyone there had relocated from somewhere else—an eclectic blend of accents from around the world, which was great. But people from Taylor’s Grove sounded mostly alike—Southern drawls with a heaping side of western Kentucky twang for flavor. Today, it tasted especially delicious.

She checked to make sure her mom was still doing okay and spotted her sitting on the bench under the gazebo, surrounded by women whose faces were probably familiar though most of the names forgotten. They’d all been so wonderful the past couple of weeks, volunteering to keep an eye on her mom while Audrey moved in and got things set up. She’d even been able to get a little work done—but not much.

When she’d started keeping the books for the RV resort owned by her then-husband Alex’s family, she hadn’t meant for it to become a vocation, but picking up a few other businesses as clients had turned it into a part-time job. Since everything was done on the computer anyway, all her clients had chosen to stay with her when she told them about the move to Kentucky. The business-from-home setup was working out perfectly so far, even if much of it was done during late-night hours when Mom and Tess were asleep.

“I think I’m ready for some ribs.” Bree sniffed the air. “You hungry yet?”

Audrey nodded, suddenly aware of the smoky flavor that was making her mouth water. “I’m always ready for barbecued ribs.”

The rib competition had grown to fourteen competitors this year, with barbecue grills set up along the outside edge of the park, all in a row, and each one manned by someone who boasted that his were the best.

Tank Wallis had won the competition for the past seven years with his secret recipe of dry rub that made you want to lick your fingers, yet burned your tongue when you did. But that he claimed domination didn’t stop the others from trying. Word was Bree’s father-in-law, Cyrus Barlow, might just topple the crown from Tank’s head this year.

“Are you hungry, Mom?” Audrey made a stop on the way to the grills.

Her mom tilted her head in question. “Must I order now?”

“Only if you’re hungry.”

“I’ll have spaghetti with two meatballs then, please.” Her mom folded her hands demurely into her lap.

“I think we may be all out of spaghetti and meatballs today, Helen.” Patti Stroud, owner of the Grove Diner, spoke up. “We’ve got some really good ribs and potato salad, though. How does that sound?”

“I’ll have two racks of ribs, a pint of potato salad and a pint of slaw. To go, please.” Her mom’s hand rested at the base of her throat. “My family has such big eaters.”

Audrey met the surrounding sad looks with a shrug. Nobody had said this would be easy.

Patti stood up and laid a hand on Audrey’s arm. “You go eat. I’ll fix her a plate.” She turned Audrey around and gave her a gentle push. “Go on. Helen’s fine with us. She’s enjoying herself.”

Her mom did seem okay today. Audrey had been afraid the crowd would be too much for her, but the familiar setting seemed to have the opposite effect. It was like she associated this place with good memories.

Audrey caught up with Bree at Cyrus’s grill. Her friend’s father-in-law had stepped to the side and was holding his grandson, who patted his cheeks with pudgy hands, while Ollie Perkins doled out ribs in pairs. “Whooee, Audrey.” Ollie made a smacking sound as he held out the tongs full of juicy meat. “These are gonna be the finest ribs you ever put in your mouth.”

“Can’t wait to try them.” Her stomach growled in anticipation.

Tank, whose grill was set up right next to Cyrus’s, motioned toward his own pile of racks. “And when you decide you got to get the taste of those off your tongue, you come right back over here, and I’ll give you a sample of how real ribs should taste.”

“Dry rub can’t hold a candle to ribs dripping with sticky honey hickory sauce.” Cyrus made a raspberry sound against Isaiah’s palm, eliciting a delighted squeal that bubbled out of the little boy and could be heard by everyone within hearing range.

Bree gave her father-in-law a peck on the cheek. “Can you watch him while I eat?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cyrus pumped Isaiah into the air. “Who’s your favorite?” He brought the child down to touch noses. “Pawpaw!”

He repeated the action several times as Bree and Audrey finished filling their plates from the table of side dishes provided by the women of the town.

Bree giggled as she and Audrey found a spot at the picnic table nearby. “We refer to my stepdad as Grandpa, and Cyrus is terrified Isaiah will say Grandpa or, heaven forbid, Ollie, before he says Pawpaw.”

The easy way Bree referred to what Audrey considered major changes in their tiny village—namely Bree’s mother’s, Stella’s, marriage last year to a man in Paducah and her subsequent move there, and, even more shocking, Cyrus and Ollie’s gay partnership—served as a constant reminder time was moving on and Taylor’s Grove was evolving with it.

She was only three bites into Cyrus’s every-bit-as-fabulous-as-he-boasted ribs, when Bree’s squeal caught her attention.