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Then Came You ; Written with Love Page 5
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“Sorry. What do you need?”
She shook her head. “Go into the storage room and grab some more cups and plastic utensils? We’re almost out.”
“Yeah, I’ll get some.” Robyn navigated through the tangle of bodies toward the hallway, then turned toward the storage room at the end of the hall. The music thumped, vibrating the floors, though the sound lessened a bit as she got farther away from the café.
She found the storage room door propped open and nearly tripped over a brick near the door frame. Using the toe of her boot to edge the brick out of the way, she entered the room and flipped on the light.
“Robyn.”
She turned at the sound of the deep voice calling her name.
Troy stood in the doorway.
“What is it?”
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
Her brow hitched up. “About what? I came to get some more supplies for the party.”
He stepped inside the room.
“Troy, wait...”
The words escaped her lips a moment too late, and the door snapped shut. “Crap. That door’s been busted for a while, and it doesn’t seem like anyone’s gotten around to fixing it yet.”
He turned around, tried the knob. It wobbled from side to side worthlessly. A groan escaped his lips. “Sorry about that.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have moved the brick.”
“How long before they notice we’re missing?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. M.E. did send me for something. But with the music as loud as it is, screaming for help is out of the picture.”
“My phone’s on the table.”
She sighed. “Mine is in my purse.”
He laughed. “Dumb luck, huh?”
“Well, what do you want to talk about?” She leaned back against the shelf. “Looks like we’ve got plenty of time now.”
* * *
Troy moved farther into the storage room but left a good amount of distance between himself and Robyn. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, especially in such close quarters.
She shifted a bit to face him, letting her left shoulder rest against the wooden shelf. Hands clasped in front of her, she looked his way. “What do you want to talk about, Troy?”
Fate had chosen a funny way of giving him the chance to explain himself, and he wouldn’t pass that up. “First, I want to explain what happened back then. Why I didn’t show up to take you to prom junior year.”
Her face creased into a slight frown. “Honestly, Troy. You don’t actually believe what Rick said. That I’d hire you to subject you to some sort of juvenile torture plot?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that. I could tell from the look on your face when I walked into your office—you were genuinely surprised to see me.” He chuckled. “I’ve known Rick for years and he’s always been a little crazy. I’ve learned when to ignore him.”
The tightness seemed to melt away from her face. “Okay. I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sure you remember how bad things were back then between my parents.”
She offered a small nod.
“Well, two days before prom, things really boiled over.” He sat down on the concrete floor, feeling as if the weight of the memories pressed him into that position. “It was after eleven at night when I woke up to the sound of them screaming at each other. Dad was railing at my mother about not being discreet with her boyfriends. She yelled back about how he wasn’t man enough for her, and how he was raising me to be as weak as he was.”
Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand.
He didn’t elaborate on how his mother’s words made him feel, how she’d been berating his sensitivity and lack of unfounded aggression since he could walk. He’d felt such pain and confusion because she couldn’t accept him just the way he was. But that wasn’t a factor in this tale, so he kept it to himself. “I overheard most of the shouting match. But the worst part was when she screamed these exact words—‘Get out, Johnny! And take that weak-ass boy with you!’”
“Oh, no.” Her eyes were damp now.
He hadn’t wanted to make her cry, but he wanted her to know the truth—that he’d never purposefully abandoned her. Part of him thought he was saying too much, but now that he’d begun the telling, he couldn’t stop the words flowing from his lips. “Then I heard my dad’s footsteps coming down the hallway. He flung open my bedroom door and said, ‘Troy, we’re leaving.’ We spent about fifteen minutes packing as much as we could take, and then we left.”
“In the middle of the night?” She closed the distance between them, lowering herself to the floor beside him. “Where did you go?”
“Dad drove us to the airport and called his brother. Uncle Carver booked us on a first-class flight to Raleigh that morning, and we stayed with his family a few months. After Dad got us a place in Wilmington, I finished high school there.”
A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. “Troy. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “Not your fault. Not my fault, either. At least, that’s what the therapist said.” He released a humorless laugh, hoping to soften the mood.
“I thought being stood up was rough.” She brushed away her tear. “And it was. But what you went through that night was so much worse. Just...horrible.”
He looked her way, finally asking her the question that had been on his mind since he’d boarded that flight all those years ago. “When you realized I wasn’t coming, did you stay home?”
She shook her head. “No. Actually, once you were an hour late, Kima and some of the girls came over and we all went together in a limo. It turned out to be a great night, considering.”
Hearing that made him smile, despite the sadness lingering inside him. “I’m really glad to hear that. I was worried you’d stay home and miss out on the experience because of me.”
A soft smile lit her face. “That’s really sweet, Troy.”
Silence fell between them for a moment, marred only by the semidistant sound of the music being played in the café, along with the muffled din of conversations and laughter.
To break the silence, he said, “Seems like they’re having too much fun to notice we’re missing.”
She giggled. “I appreciate you telling me all this, Troy. But can I ask you one more question?”
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you contact me? You could have reached out after you were settled in North Carolina, but I never heard from you until you appeared in my office the other day. Why?”
I should have seen that question coming. “Honestly? I don’t know. I can tell you that seventeen-year-old me had no desire to explain what had happened. I just don’t think I had the capacity, or even the vocabulary, to explain it then. And I wasn’t sure I should. My dad didn’t want anything to do with my mom then. He didn’t even want her to know where we were. Contacting you might have meant Mom would find us, Grandeza being as small and close-knit as it is. That was a convenient excuse for me not to face the music with you.”
“And what about all the time that’s passed in the interim?” She gave him a pointed look.
He sighed, knowing he’d have to continue to be honest, and the truth wasn’t glamorous or profound. “So much time had passed, I just figured you’d moved on. Once I allowed myself to believe that, it was easy to let myself off the hook, and not reach out.” He ran a hand over his face. “I will say that part of me is glad I waited. It feels right to be able to do this in person.”
She let her gaze drop to the floor.
“After Dad died in that bus crash a few years back, I waited for her to reach out to me. To send a card, or somehow acknowledge his death.” He rested his head against the cool, painted cinderblock wall behind him. “She never did. I haven’t seen or
spoken to her since the night we left Grandeza.”
“I’m sure she must have heard about it. Everyone in town knew.” Robyn shook her head. “I know she’d sold her house and moved by then, but that crash made national news.”
“I did get a card from you and your family. I remember that.” He leaned closer to her, looked into her eyes. “I remember how I felt when I saw your handwriting. The same handwriting from those love notes you used to slip me in class.”
Her cheeks bloomed with color.
“How did you even find me?”
She shrugged. “I think my dad’s assistant found your address...through the funeral home listed in the obituary. All I did was write in the card.”
“Just seeing the note you’d written inside really helped to soothe my grief, Robyn.”
“You’ve always had a kind heart. It’s what made you different from all the other guys I knew. Honestly, it’s what drew me to you.” Emotion sparkled in her eyes. “I’m glad I could comfort you, Troy. In a way, that’s all I ever wanted to do. Shelter your heart.” She reached up and put her warm palm against his cheek.
“I know. And I could use that comfort again.”
She leaned up, and a moment later, their lips touched. His were eager, seeking. Hers were as soft and lush as the petals of a rain-dampened rose. She looped her arms around his neck, and he circled his around her waist, pulling her against his body, against his heart.
Where she belonged.
Chapter 6
Holding her phone against her ear, Robyn walked up the driveway to her childhood home Thursday afternoon. Located near the geographic center of the ranch, the sprawling single-level brick house hadn’t changed much since she’d gone off to UC Davis.
“Geez, Kima. Quit yelling.”
“I’m not yelling, I’m shouting—there’s a difference.”
She rolled her eyes. “What were you expecting me to do? Call you that night and check in with you? Last I checked, my mama’s name was Thelma Chance.”
Kima sighed. “Girl, I know I’m not your mama. But I can’t believe you didn’t tell me right away that you kissed Troy! That’s headline news and you know it.”
Stepping up onto the wide cement porch, she groaned. “Fine. I’m sorry I made you wait twenty-four hours to find out this earth-shattering news.”
“Apology accepted. Just make sure you keep me up-to-date on what happens next.”
“There is no next, Kima. It was just a little kiss.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Kima sounded unconvinced. “If you say so.”
“I’m at my parents’ for dinner, so can we continue this little inquisition later?”
“Have you told them yet you’re leaving?”
“No. But I will. Soon, I promise. When the time is right.”
“Is the time ever going to be right?”
Robyn didn’t answer. She would do it soon, just as she’d told Kima. Really.
“All right, girl. ’Bye.”
She ended the call and tucked her phone into the hip pocket of her jeans. Kima had been her best friend since forever, but sometimes Robyn found her nosiness exhausting.
Moving closer to the door, she pulled open the screen door and used her key to enter the house.
Inside, she left her shoes on the tray by the door and hung up her denim jacket and black leather purse, then headed through the living room toward the kitchen. The smell of garlic, basil and oregano permeating the air made her stomach rumble with hungry anticipation of her mother’s home cooking.
On a side table between the living and dining rooms, her mother had arranged a group of silver framed pictures. Pausing by the table, Robyn picked up one of the photos, examining it. The image was of her and Lacey, sitting on the front porch eating ice cream. She’d been about five, meaning Lacey had been about two. Sitting there with their pigtails, tiny overalls and little faces smudged with chocolate, they were the embodiment of youthful innocence.
If only things hadn’t gone so wrong.
It’s almost her birthday. She doubted she would ever get over the questions, the wondering what her sister would have been like as an adult. Would they still be so inseparable?
Now, she would never know. The old pain rose again, threatening to bring the tears to her eyes. She returned the framed photo to its proper place and continued into the kitchen.
There, she found her mother, sprinkling fresh herbs over her famous lasagna. Thelma King Chance looked up at her daughter’s entrance and offered her a bright smile. “Hi, baby. You’re just in time—I just took this out of the oven.”
She placed a soft kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Is it half-veggie and half-traditional?”
Thelma nodded. “Yes. You know your father. The more I try to get him to eat healthfully, the more he resists. So, I make compromise lasagna.”
Robyn giggled. At the age of fifty-four, Thelma looked at least a decade younger. Her copper-colored skin, brown eyes and wavy dark hair were glossy and youthful, giving no hint to her true age. She was dressed in a green A-line dress, covered with a white floral print apron bursting with pink-and-yellow blooms.
“Can I help out?” Robyn moved to the sink to wash her hands.
“Sure. You can grab the salad and the dressing out of the refrigerator and bring it to the table.” Thelma slipped her small hands into the burgundy oven mitts she kept hanging on pegs near the stove.
They worked together to get the food on the table, where the three places had already been set. As she put down the still smoking pan of lasagna, Thelma cupped her hands around her mouth. “Cooper! Dinner!”
Robyn chuckled inwardly. Her mother had been calling her father to dinner that way for as long as she could remember. She’d asked her mother about that one time. The response had been “I already cooked. I’m not chasing after him, too.”
Cooper called back, “Here I come!”
They took their seats on opposite sides of the table, with Thelma to the right and Robyn to the left. Cooper entered a few moments later. Dressed in tan slacks and a gray polo shirt, he stopped to kiss his wife and daughter on the forehead before slipping into his chair at the head of the table.
Eyeing the lasagna, he frowned. “Aw, honey-bun. Don’t tell me you made that half-and-half stuff again.”
Thelma chuckled. “Don’t worry, dearest. I turned the side with all the meat and cholesterol toward you, so you won’t have to reach too far.”
Robyn dropped her head, covering her smile with her hands. The way they carried on tickled her. She supposed that after nearly thirty years together, there was little room for pretense in a marriage. At some point, you just said what you had to say and dealt with the fallout.
Cooper rolled his eyes. “Whatever. We live on a cattle ranch, so you’re not about to get me to give up beef.”
“I only want you to cut back, not give it up.” Thelma shook her head. “You’re going to do what you want, anyway, so be my guest, you old mule.”
Despite the harshness of her words, there was a smile in her eyes.
Cooper winked at his wife. “Nice to know you still care, sweetheart.”
Thelma pursed her lips. “You are such a mess.”
After the plates were fixed, they all dug in. Robyn took a small piece from each side of the lasagna pan, savoring the lightness of the vegetarian slice and the richness of the meat-and-cheese-laden one. The dichotomy reflected her parents’ relationship; despite their differences, they went together very well.
The conversation around the table was mostly about town gossip, since Thelma forbade discussing ranch business at her dinner table. Robyn listened as her parents traded tales of the dramatic goings-on in Grandeza, the most shocking being an electrical fire at Martinez Building Supply.
“Anything exciting happening in your world, Robyn?”
She met her mothe
r’s expectant gaze and felt the tightening in her stomach. She loved her parents, and there would always be a part of her that longed to share her good news with them. She wanted them to be proud of her, to share her joy at landing the position. She knew she had to tell them soon, and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be for them to take. She couldn’t face it now, though. I’m pretty sure my leaving counts as “ranch business,” not to be discussed at the table. So, I’ll just set it aside for now. She certainly couldn’t tell them she’d kissed Troy while locked in the administrative-building storage room. Keeping secrets from them bothered her, and she promised herself she’d tell them, right after she’d settled on a replacement. Then she could present them both pieces of news at once: her leaving, and how she’d secured someone to take her place. At least then she’d be taking some worry off their shoulders about how they’d get along without her, since she wouldn’t be leaving them in the lurch without a ranch vet.
So, she gave the only answer she could. “Not really.”
“I expected you’d be a little more...affected by Troy being back in town.” Thelma sipped from a glass of ice water.
Robyn’s eyes widened. “So, you knew, too? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Her question was met with silence.
Finally, Cooper answered. “With Amos retiring, we needed someone with the right skill set to replace him, and we needed them fast. There wasn’t time for a lot of back-and-forth.”
“And you thought what, exactly? That I would interfere with his hiring, because of something that happened in high school?” Ever since Troy had stood her up, her parents and friends had danced around the subject, acting as if she’d been scarred for life. It irked her to no end. Do they really think I’m that fragile? I’m no china doll.
She stood, tamping down her frustration in favor of being respectful of her parents. “Mama, it was delicious. I’m tired, so I’m going on home. Thanks for having me.” Her cottage, just outside the western border of the Cooper spread, was just a short drive away. That had proven to be both a good and a bad thing at various points in her life. Right now, she wished she could escape a bit farther away from this uncomfortable situation.