After the riot of thoughts bombarding me in the quiet of my home, this was what I needed. Familiar faces. Good music.
The only problem was in my own head, as I started watching everyone around me.
All I could see was happiness, and instead of buoying me to their level, it simply pointed a spotlight onto all the things I felt weighing me down.
I saw couples in love, dancing close and smiling wide.
I saw the Winstons on stage, sweaty and grinning and happy as they entertained the crowd doing something they loved.
My own life felt suspended, felt rooted in place. But not in the way I wanted it to be.
Roots were good, if you wanted to be planted solidly in that one spot.
But the way things felt for me, it was like quicksand.
I turned and froze.
And saw Grace Buchanan.
She was crouched down, camera pointed into the crowd, where a little boy and girl were twirling to the music. People moved around her as she snapped away, occasionally pulling the camera back to smile at whatever she could see on that screen.
I wanted to know what it was.
Wanted to know what she’d captured, the thing that caught her attention.
While I was staring at her, unabashedly soaking in the way her hair curled over her shoulders and the way her nose tilted up at the end, someone slung an arm around my shoulder.
“You never call, you never write,” Connor Buchanan said. “People say you’re still around, but I was starting to think it was a myth.”
I laughed, praying my face wasn’t bright red after he all but caught me gawking at his cousin like a love-struck teenager.
“Connor,” I greeted. “It’s been a while.”
“You missed the big day, man.”
I winced. “Yeah, sorry about that. I heard it was a beautiful wedding.”
Connor grinned over at where his new bride stood, sipping lemonade and swaying to the music. “Best day of my life.”
“I wish I had an exciting reason why I couldn’t make it,” I told him, raising my voice so he could hear me over the music, “but it was a conference in Knoxville about employment law.”
Connor laughed. “That sounds like the most boring way I could possibly think of to spend a weekend.”
“I would’ve much rather been at your wedding, trust me.” I sipped at my water and struggled not to stare openly at Grace as she stood, wincing slightly as she put weight on her ankle, and walked back over by Sylvia. It was probably a good thing that she hadn’t seen me yet, because I wasn’t sure I was in any frame of mind to talk to her.
A group of women passed Grace, frank appraisal clear on their faces, then the telltale whispering to each other as soon as they walked away. No, there were too many eyes in this place for me to have any sort of conversation with her.
I was too confused, it was too loud in that gym, and admitting to myself that I was attracted to her was too new in my head.
Sylvia waved at Connor, then gestured in our direction. Grace nodded, and I held my breath as she turned her face and saw us.
It would be impossible for her to ever hide what she felt, I realized.
Not when she was taken by surprise.
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened when she saw me standing next to Connor, who was still talking happily about his wedding day.
Grace’s cheeks flushed pink, and when I felt a desperate tug to know why, I knew I had to leave.
Maybe that was stupid, because I was going to see her in the morning, and we’d be alone. Then I’d have to let myself feel stupid, because I was at my limit for what I could allow myself for one day.
If I stood next to her, I’d want to stand closer.
If I talked to her, I’d want to lean in so I could hear her better.
If I let myself, if I knew that no one was watching, I’d ask to her to dance just so that I could feel her in my arms.
And I would never do that to Magnolia.
“Connor, it was good talking to you,” I said, as the two women approached.
“Didn’t you just get here?” he asked. He wrapped an arm around Sylvia’s shoulders.
“Forgot about something I need to get wrapped up before tomorrow,” I told him, then nodded at Sylvia. “Belated congratulations, Mrs. Buchanan. I’m sorry I missed it.”
She smiled. “Good seeing you, Tucker.”
Grace was fidgeting with her camera when I finally gave myself permission to look at her.
Those slim shoulders raised as she took a deep, fortifying breath, and her eyes raised to mine.
“Grace,” I said.
“I’ll see you in the morning?”
By my estimation, I had less than twelve hours to get myself under control, so that I could manage a simple conversation with this person.
I nodded. “See you then.”
Less than fifteen minutes after I walked in the door, I walked back out again, accompanied this time by the realization that I couldn’t run away from a single one of my problems, no matter where I went.
Chapter 38 Tucker
She got there before I did, which surprised me, as I arrived at the empty fairgrounds ten minutes before nine. But when I pulled my truck into the spot next to her now-functioning car, I saw her sitting on the picnic table underneath the sprawling tree that I used to climb as a boy, no matter how often my mom told me not to. Seeing her underneath it, white shirt, jean shorts, and a messy knot of golden hair on top of her head, was a strange dichotomy—a split picture of the two versions of my life the last few days.
Tucker the lawyer and the long-term boyfriend.
Tucker who ditched work to go on
