20. Clara

CHAPTER 20

CLARA

You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Clara. I never want to lose you. - Nick

Fall in Green Valley was always beautiful and to celebrate the bounty there was an entire festival for it every year. It had started out as a tiny festival set up at the edge of town and had grown over the years to include something for everyone to enjoy. There were booths run by local business, carnival rides and games, food of every kind imaginable, and a charity dunk tank run by the Green Valley High PTA—those ladies had big plans, or so I’d heard. Pindich was the number one target, followed by everyone’s favorite substitute teacher—not me, of course. All the ladies were dying to see Court in a wet T-shirt. They were in the process of guilting him into the tank right now. Between wet-teacher beefcake and the possibility of a Pin Dick drowning, the PTA was going to raise a bunch of money for new uniforms or equipment or whatever—honestly, I didn’t care that much. I was only subbing at the high school for Gracie’s sake.

Speaking of . . . Gracie and I would be working with our mother at the Lavender Hill booth and this year, for the first time ever, I didn’t dread it.

Like she’d done the past few years, Momma had recreated the Lavender Hill farm stand right here at the festival. It was a mini stable, complete with big bushels of lavender—both fresh and dried—set in the front, and along the counter and displayed on a shelf behind us were all the things she made up at the farm: herbs, jams, tea, sachets, honey from her bees, to name a few. If it could be labeled as farm fresh and crafty, she made it and sold it. She was going to make a fortune here today. This year she’d even added a QR code for her website so she could take online orders.

“This is something else,” I remarked as I took it all in.

“The QR code was my idea,” Gracie informed me as she sorted lavender wands and crowns into neat piles.

“She’s a little entrepreneur, isn’t she?” Momma beamed with pride. She’d come so far since she started seeing her therapist. It was only a couple years ago she’d grounded Gracie for taking on jobs outside of the farm. “She has you to thank for that, doesn’t she?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so,” I muttered. I let my eyes drift across the festival; I was not in the best head space today. The idea of being around this many people was daunting. I squinted, trying to make out someone in the distance. Was that Malcolm?

“That’s the dick from your old office, isn’t it?” Gracie hissed in my ear. “What the hell is he doing here?”

I nodded as I zeroed in on him buying a bunch of cotton candy at a booth across the way from ours.

Momma was oblivious, sorting through tea bags with her back turned. “Well, I’m proud of you too, Clara. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I’m sorry for a lot⁠—”

“It’s okay,” I said as I refocused on her. “You don’t have to keep saying you’re sorry.”

She turned. “If you want me to stop, I will.” Her smile was soft. “But when things come up that remind me of my mistakes it’s hard not to.”

Our eyes met. “I think I understand. On second thought, it might be a good thing. As long as it makes you feel better too.”

I was still shaken by the Malcolm sighting, but I remembered his mother lived in Green Valley somewhere and relaxed a bit. Why would he be here for me?

“Don’t worry about me, sugar. How are you? You look tired.”

“I’ve been going through some things⁠—”

“She just spotted her old co-worker who sexually harassed her,” Gracie told her. I gave her a hard glare that told her exactly how I felt about her divulging this information to our mother. “What? Maybe she can find him and destroy him mentally or something.”

“Is he giving you trouble? You can always come stay at the farm with me and my shotgun.” Threatening to shoot a fool was always her default reaction. It made me laugh. It also kind of made me wonder if she’d ever done it; her temper used to be horrible.

I waved a hand in dismissal. “No, it’s fine. I just spotted him near the cotton candy is all. He has family in the area, I’m not worried about him. He didn’t see me.”

“Oh! Maybe I should have gone to her about Marianne and the bully bitch trio,” Gracie joked. “Problem solved on first day of school. Boom!”

“Marianne?” She turned from the counter to face Gracie. “Marianne Tanner?”

“That’s the one,” Gracie confirmed. Her eyes went wide. “Wait, don’t shoot her. Be reasonable. How advanced are you in your therapy? Like, my anger management class has me pretty Zen about all this—most of the time, anyway.”

“I won’t shoot her. But I can’t guarantee a reasonable reaction yet,” she teased. “I may need more therapy for that. Listen, I’ll talk to her mother next time she comes to the farm to get her sleepy tea and lavender pillow spray. Marianne won’t bother you anymore if I threaten to cut her mother off. She likes her sleep. She’s forever droning on and on about it whenever we stop to have a chat. And there’s no need to mention the fact that she’s been seen swapping spit with a man who is decidedly not her husband. One of those little tidbits ought to be enough for her to get her daughter under control. I’ll start with the first and if Marianne is still bothering you, I’ll move to the second. I guess I have learned something from therapy,” she joked. “The old me would have gone scorched earth.”

“Hell yeah!” Gracie pointed in the distance. “Now do Mr. Neal. He’s over there getting a funnel cake, the stupid, cranky, old grouch.”

My mom stopped and turned. “Do you mean Geoffrey Neal?”

“Uh, yeah . . .” Gracie and I exchanged a look.

“Do you know him?” I asked, dying of curiosity given we didn’t know much about our mother’s past. “How? Tell us?”

“I dumped him during my senior year of high school to date your father,” she informed us. “He didn’t take it very well. It’s debatable who would have been the better choice, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes. “Is he giving you trouble?”

“Only since forever, and I guess now we know why,” I answered. “It started in high school and again when I moved into my house down the street from him. He’s meaner than a damn snake. He used to call us hillbilly trash. He slut-shamed Sadie out of the library for getting pregnant by her dumbass ex, for eff’s sake.”

“He’s still a total asshole,” Gracie confirmed. “Everyone hates him. I had to start stealing books instead of checking them out because he wouldn’t stop asking me if I could actually read.”

“Gracie!” I chided. “I’ll buy you all the books you want. Don’t steal.”

“No need.” She rolled her eyes at me. “I bring them back when I’m done. I just don’t let him scan them into the system. I don’t need to put up with his shit, and I like the idea of him looking around for missing books and wondering where they went.”

“Well, that’s okay then.” I hugged her into my side. “I can respect that.”

Momma interrupted, smiling at the two of us. “You’ve been working at the school, Clara. Is he still bothering you?”

I looked at her with my eyebrows raised and nodded. “Yeah, but I feel a bit better about it now that I know that you broke his tiny, shriveled little heart,” I teased.

Her mouth tilted up at the corners, though it was not quite a smile. It was actually a little scary. “I’ll take care of him too.”

“I like this new you.” I beamed at her. “It’s like you’re using your powers for good now.”

“Well, I have a lot to make up for with y’all. I should have been protecting you all these years, and I’m glad I have the chance to do it now. And as for Geoffrey, it looks like he’s getting into the dunk tank. I always did have good aim . . .” She grabbed a few bucks from the lock box and stomped off to dunk our common enemy.

“This new mom is awesome.” Gracie grinned at me. “I’m still staying with Willa and Everett though. I don’t—I don’t even want to say it out loud.”

“It’s hard to trust the changes in her and that’s okay,” I deduced. “Dr. Simon agrees. Do not feel bad about it. Momma wouldn’t even want you to feel bad, okay?”

“You’re right, she wouldn’t. She even said so herself. You should listen to Dr. Simon more, by the way,” she added under her breath.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re getting hit with a lot of shit right now and you’re gonna get buried under it if you don’t start asking for help. You can’t do everything on your own and you have to talk about your problems.”

I gaped at her. “What the hell, Gracie? How⁠—?”

“Why are y’all so surprised when I figure you out?” she retorted. “Hello? You’ve been paying for my therapy since I was ten, Clara. It stands to reason I’d be better at sorting shit out than you are. I’ve had more practice, and arguably, I’m less fucked up than you, Willa, and Sadie. Momma has been getting her shit together and I’m still a kid. The rest of y’all grew up like that and spent a lot of your adult years dealing with it too.” My eyes must have glazed over a little because she waved her hand in my face. “Hello?”

I shook my head to clear it. “Ouch. I mean it makes sense, but still—freaking ouch.”

“You just got dumped by that idiot Chris, and he hurt your feelings no matter how much you say he didn’t. Sadie and the boys moved out, and Mr. Easton moved in next door—Hello past? It’s me, Clara. Don’t punch me in the face too hard,” she sing-songed. “Malcolm, the perverted co-worker from hell, is here in town and most likely he’ll end up being a dick to you at some point, because dickheads gonna dick, am I right? What else is going on?” She gave me a once-over. “Are you on your period? Ha! You got sick awhile back, didn’t you? Your body is betraying you and you’re on track for a major stress-related freak-out.”

“Yeah, and? I’ve been taking care of myself for years on my own. I’m fine. Or at least I will be fine. This too shall pass, and all that crap. Right? And how do you know about Nick and me?”

“Oh my god! Please for once in my life give me some credit. Don’t you know better by now than to question how I know stuff? I’m practically omniscient, but even if I wasn’t, the two of you could not be more obvious. You two are always casting longing gazes into each other’s sappy faces and a person would have to be a moron not to see all the sexual tension spilling out all over the school and throughout the neighborhood. Give me a damn break, Clara.”

“Okay, okay. Fine, you got me. I’m a mess, I need at least ten naps, and I’ve been neglecting my yard, which sucks because that’s my main stress reliever. Maybe you can come over and help me weed.” I shot her at toothy grin and a mock salute. “I bow down to your observational skills, okay?”

She laughed. “I’m not talking about that kind of help, but I’ll help you weed if you want me too. Bet I can get you to spill your guts too.”

My text notification pinged in my pocket. “It’s Leonard. Mari is sick in her car, and he wants me to check on her while he deals with the band.”

She rolled her eyes. “Talk about another stressed-out head case . . . ,” she muttered.

“Nice, Gracie. I’m going to see if she’s okay. The band is about to start playing soon and he’s worried about her. You got the booth?”

“Yeah, I got the booth. Bring me back some deep-fried whatevers and a huge lemonade. I’m not picky and I’m ready to get food wasted. I want to spend the rest of the day riding a sugar high and relaxing with my thoughts.”

“You got it.” I waved goodbye and headed for the parking lot.

I passed the dunk tank and stopped to watch as my mother proceeded to dunk Mr. Neal while simultaneously cussing him out and lecturing him about letting bygones be bygones. I dropped a kiss to her cheek on my way to check on Mari.

“Miss Clara!” I spun to find Sasha waving at me. She was with Morgan, Ethan, Nick, and Malcolm.

I froze and tried not to gape at them like a fish stuck in a tank. Trapped inside the glass and at the mercy of everyone outside of it.

Shit.

What the hell was going on?

Malcolm’s steely eyes narrowed on me as I greeted Sasha while at the same time trying not to make it obvious how horrified I was to see him here with them.

“This is Clara, my neighbor. She’s also a substitute teacher at the school,” Nick introduced me to a trying-to-send-me-messages-with-his-eyes Malcolm.

Nick was quite impersonal with the introduction, and it stung more than I cared to admit.

I knew he was dropping them off with Morgan today, but I didn’t know he’d planned on staying here to hang out with them.

“Hey there, Clara.” Morgan took my hand as she looked me up and down. “I’m waiting for your RSVP. Still coming to the wedding with Nick?”

“She is,” he answered for me.

“This is Malcolm, Morgan’s fiancé.” Nick gestured to Malcolm and my brain short-circuited as I took his hand to shake it. Her fiancé?

From now on I’d have to start communicating from the afterlife, because I think I just died.

“Nice to meet you,” I muttered. “Kids, I’d love to stay and chat with you, maybe go on a ride or something, but I’m in a rush. I have to go check on a sick friend.”

Thank you, Mari. I’m sorry you’re sick, but you’ve just become the perfect excuse to get the hell out of here.

We’d planned to tell the kids about us at some point after the festival, but Nick didn’t have to be so distant. He hadn’t even met my eyes, and his smile was barely there. He could at least pretend to be my friend in public, right? I rubbed a circle over my chest and took a step back. I had to get out of here; nothing good was about to happen, I could tell.

I turned tail and left, practically running to the parking lot to find Mari. It was hard not to look over my shoulder like a paranoid freak to make sure that asshole Malcolm wasn’t following me.

I wanted to get in my car and leave but I had to work the booth with Momma and Gracie. Damn it.

I found Mari in her car, asleep. I knocked on the window and she startled awake; she waved and started mumbling. Poor Mari looked terrible but alive. I snapped a pic and sent it to Leonard, then made my way back to the booth, stealth mode, stopping at all the fried treat stands on the way.

By the time I’d made it back to Gracie, I’d stress eaten half of what I’d bought and was about to recreate my stomach-flu-induced, technicolor yawn from the other day all over the pavement.

“Here you go. Whatever you do, do not eat as much as I did on the way back here.”

“Uh, okay? I’ll pace myself. You look like you are about to lose your shit—or toss your cookies.” Gracie snickered. “What happened? Too much food, or did you see an enemy? Between the two of us, we have so many here. How scandalous and exciting are we?”

“Where’s Momma?” All that talk about not shooting anyone would go right out the window when she found out how freaked out I was over Malcolm.

“She saw Marianne and her mother over by the tilt-a-whirl. She’s busy doling out pieces of her mind over there.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I don’t even care anymore. As long as Marianne leaves me alone, I’m fine. It’s also kind of nice to have my actual mother handling a problem for me. What a novel idea, right?”

I reached across the counter and hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Gracie. But also, it’s good she’s helping now. I wish I knew the right thing to say about this.” With a family as screwed up as ours, triggers were everywhere. I’m glad I was here for this one.

“You say plenty of the right things and you always have. I’m sorry I didn’t go to her in the beginning. You’re a substitute teacher because of me, for eff’s sake. Like, what the hell?” She huffed a laugh.

“Hey. No apologies. I’m spending a lot of time with you every day because you came to me, and I love it. Please look at it that way.”

“I have the best big sisters in the entire world. Give me a funnel cake before I start crying like an idiot.” She snatched one of the bags from my hand and dug around inside. “I’m already missing Weston today. We came to this stupid festival together last year.”

“I’m so sorry about Weston, sweetheart. It’s okay to cry sometimes, Gracie.” I bumped her shoulder conspiratorially. “Let it out. Crying Hill sister sightings are not unusual around Green Valley, no one will blink an eye.”

She wiped her eyes, laughed, and took a bite of her treat. “You got that right.” She took a deep breath. “I think I’m okay now. Saying it out loud made me feel better. Funny how that works, isn’t it?” she mused with her eyebrows up.

“Ugh, fine, you’re right. I have news, too—the unbelievable, horrifying kind. Malcolm is engaged to Nick’s ex. How do you like them apples? I can’t even process this right now.”

“No,” she gasped. “What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. Crawl under a rock? Check myself into a hospital somewhere in Timbuktu for mental exhaustion? Take up permanent residence in my closet?” I threw my arms in the air in exasperation. “What the hell, Gracie? I’m freaking out.”

“I know. Go get some popcorn and tell Momma all about it. She’s in a fixin’ kind of mood today. I say let her take care of him.”

I burst into hysterical laughter. “I almost want to. But no, what I really want to do is go home and think. I don’t want to see him.”

“Go home, I’ve got this. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right here with my fried Snickers and funnel cakes, living my best life.” She stabbed a straw into her lemonade and took a huge sip. “I’m fine now. See?”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. Momma is here and we’ve been talking, I’m fine. But don’t go home and be alone because that’s dumb. Go see Molly at the inn or find Sadie or Willa. You’ll just wear a track in your floor pacing and ranting if you’re by yourself.”

She waved me off as a few customers approached.

“Thank you! I’m leaving.”

“Take a nap later, it’ll help! And maybe some Tums!” she hollered as I ran off.

I found Malcolm at my car waiting for me because, of course. “I assumed you’d be leaving soon,” he said. “You looked shocked when we were introduced.”

“What do you want Malcolm?” I sucked it up and gave him my best don’t-fuck-with-me smile—the one with a lot of teeth that said I’d be more than happy to show him all the moves I learned in self-defense class. Or maybe I should just break his fucking nose again and call it a day.

“It was unexpected, running into you here like this, Miss Hill. A bit out of our usual context, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, what an unpleasant surprise.”

“Of course you will not say one word.”

“One word? About . . . ?”

He ground his teeth together and looked away with a frustrated huff. “About nothing, obviously. That’s the entire point.”

“Ohhh, I get it. You mean that time when you didn’t grab me and force me into your office to grind your tiny little hard-on into my stomach while you tried to convince me that getting on my knees and blowing you was the only way I’d ever make partner? You mean all that nothing? Or are you talking about the time when I didn’t knee you in the crotch and break your nose? It’s a bit crooked now, isn’t it, you dirty little pig?”

“You know better than to mention any of that to anyone, don’t you, Miss Hill?” His smug smile infuriated me. “Isn’t that why you haven’t escalated your complaints against me? Secrets between colleagues are better off kept under wraps, don’t you think? Especially when one of the colleagues has secrets of her own.”

I was so over this guy and all his crap. “Are you attempting to threaten me with something? A little bit of friendly blackmail, perhaps? Spit it out, Malcolm. I’m not interested in playing anymore of your pathetic games. Does your daddy know what you get up to at his law firm?”

“I would never threaten you, Lavender Lane,” he sneered. “I’m an attorney, I know better than to waste my time making idle threats. I always have proof.”

I was at a loss for words, but my face must have given me away. This went beyond shocked; I was mortified, horrified, and also tempted to get into my car and run his ass over—problem solved. He couldn’t tell anyone anything if he was dead. Good lord, was I turning into my mother? Argh!

How did he know?

“To answer your unspoken question, private detectives can be expensive but quite worth it, don’t you think?”

I didn’t answer; I was still too stunned to say a word.

“I see I’ve made my point, so I’ll go. I’m leaving. I told Morgan I had a headache, but I have work to do at the office anyway. This dies here, between the two of us. Keep your mouth shut and I will too.”

He was a creep.

He was a sexual harasser.

And he would become Sasha’s stepfather if I didn’t say something. The very thought of him being anywhere near her made me sick to my stomach.

Damn him.

And damn Nick, too. At the very least, I deserved an introduction as a friend. Maybe I’d reconsider having dinner with him tonight. In this mood, it would do more harm than good to be with him.