The Peach Keeper (18 page)

“I’m just glad that nasty bit of business is over,” Sophia said. “It didn’t reflect well on any of us. Paxton, you should hold a special meeting to tell the club that everything is fine with the Madam now. I heard a rumor that some members actually wanted to change the venue for the gala. Imagine! After the invitations have already gone out.”

“Yes,” Paxton said. “I heard that, too.” She knew she shouldn’t have said it the moment it came out.

“And you didn’t tell me? I had to hear about it from Shane Easton!” Twenty-five years ago, Sophia had been president of the club, and she’d groomed Paxton to be the same. When the time came for Sophia to leave the club, Paxton had had a difficult time trying to keep her mother from still trying to control things through her. She’d been so happy the day Sophia stopped asking for every single detail of meetings the moment Paxton got home. That’s not to say she didn’t still expect to be kept in the loop.

Colin cleared his throat. “I’d like to make an announcement,” he said. “I don’t want anyone at this table setting me up with a date for the gala. I know you may be tempted to. But don’t.”

“But Colin, I was thinking about that nice Penelope Mayfield,” Sophia said, immediately distracted.

“Ha!” Colin said, pointing a finger at their mother with the hand holding his wineglass. “I knew you were planning something. No. I refuse.”

“Oh, Colin,” Sophia said indulgently. Colin looked at Paxton and winked. He’d done this for her.

After dinner, Colin retreated quickly to the patio, something he had taken to doing all week. Tonight, Paxton followed him.

“I don’t get it,” she said as she took a seat in the lounge chair next to him.

“Get what?” Colin asked, his head back against the cushions, his eyes closed.

She tried to mimic his position but couldn’t get comfortable. “Mama adores you. Daddy isn’t trying to make you play golf anymore. And still you can’t wait to get away.”

“You should know this better than anyone, Pax. It takes a lot of energy to keep up that deflector shield.”

“If you moved back, you wouldn’t have to eat dinner with them every night. I do because I live with them. You’d have your own place.”

“I know.”

“When are you moving back?” she asked. “You don’t have to live in New York for work. This could be your home base.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Ready for what? To be here for your family? Gee, Colin, it must be nice to be you.” She had no idea why she was picking a fight with him. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t even the real reason she was upset.

“I’m here now, aren’t I? You asked me, I’m here.”

“For a month.”

His chest rose as he took a deep breath of calming air. “I’m tired, Pax. I don’t want to fight with you.”

Her brother never slept well. That, at least, was something they had in common. “I don’t, either. I’m sorry.”

The crickets made up for their lack of conversation for a while. Clouds were rolling in, dimming the light as they passed over the moon, making it seem like a power surge. Paxton could feel her emotions mirrored in the sky. Bright surges of happiness. Dark periods of moodiness.

Paxton finally said, “It’s Willa Jackson you’re taking to the gala, isn’t it?”

“I’m working on it,” he said with a smile. He turned his head on the cushion to look at her. “What about you? Who are you going with?”

Before last week, before the kiss, she would have said Sebastian. But now she wasn’t so sure. He’d volunteered at the free clinic over the weekend, but now it was Tuesday, and she still hadn’t heard from him, even after leaving him an apologetic message today. She didn’t like being apart from him. It left a hole in her life she didn’t know how to fill, because he’d been her best friend, her only friend. But how could she look him in the eye after what happened, after knowing, definitively, that he could never give her what she’d wanted so much, what she’d wanted all her life? For a moment, she envied her brother’s nice, untangled life. For a moment, she understood why he stayed away.

“I think I might go alone,” she said. “There will be
too much to do for me to pay attention to a date, anyway.”

“I’ll be your date,” he offered.

“No, get Willa to come. She should be there for her grandmother.” Paxton paused. “Willa was at the tree planting today. Did you see her?”

“Yes, I saw her,” he said. “I invited her to come.”

Paxton gnawed at her bottom lip. “So you two … talk?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I guess she told you all about what happened Friday night.”

“No, actually,” he said. “I asked. She wouldn’t tell me.”

That surprised her. “She didn’t tell you anything?”

He lifted his head. “I’m getting the same impression from you that I got from her. Is there more than one secret? What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Colin sighed and turned his face back up to the spotty moonlight. “That’s what she said.”

Late that night, Sebastian sat in the back booth of the quiet, sagging Happy Daze Diner on the highway and nursed a cup of coffee, just like he used to do when he was a teenager. The only difference now was that he didn’t have a satchel of books to read well into the night.

Well, that and he was better dressed and wasn’t wearing eyeliner.

His father had been an alcoholic, so Sebastian spent every hour he could away from him. He would sit at this diner on the highway, the one his great-aunt used to take him to when he was a boy, the only place she could afford, and nurse a cup of coffee and read library books until he was too tired to stay awake, then he would go home and sleep on a couch on the porch, just so he wouldn’t have to face his father and his verbal abuse. He called Sebastian a fag a lot, particularly when he was drinking. Then Sebastian would get up and go to school, and hear much of the same.

“Hey, baby,” Lois said, coming to a stop at his booth in the back. “I thought you might like some pie.”

Sebastian smiled at her. Lois had been a waitress here since he was little. She was a wiry old woman, with painted-on lips and a crooked blond wig. She and another older lady were the only two waitresses in the place, and they wore blue polyester dresses and frilly white aprons. The place had few customers, and most were over the age of seventy. They didn’t pay any attention to him. No one bothered him here, which was why this had been such a safe haven. He’d thought he’d outgrown this, but it turned out he’d been wrong.

“I’m not hungry, Lois. But thank you.”

“Eat it,” she said, sliding the plate on the table. “You’re still too skinny. Can’t hide it with those fancy suits, either.”

She walked away, her orthopedic shoes squeaking on the cracked linoleum floors. Pie, to Lois, was love. And Sebastian appreciated it. The moment he’d walked back in a few months ago, he and Lois had found their
old routine. She still tried to feed him. He still refused. She still let him stay as late as he wanted to. Only these days he could afford to tip her a lot more.

He pushed the pie plate to the side, then looked at his cellphone sitting next to his coffee cup.

He picked it up and listened to Paxton’s message again.

“Hi, Sebastian. It’s me. I haven’t seen you in a few days.” She paused. She was on her cellphone, probably in her car. He could hear the subtle whoosh of traffic. Engine noises. She drove like she did everything else, with confidence and purpose, multitasking along the way. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. For Friday night. For not calling you when I got drunk and needed help. You’re off the hook if you don’t want to go to the luncheon and recital on Saturday. I know you don’t like classical music and were only going for me, anyway. Just … call me and let me know you’re okay. Bye.”

He set the phone back down next to his coffee.

Paxton Osgood was the last thing he’d expected to happen to him when he came back to Walls of Water. It had taken a lot of courage to come back here, but he’d been convinced that finding out about Dr. Kostovo’s retirement had been a sign. From the get-go he had blatantly insinuated himself in circles that had previously rejected him. Those who remembered him perhaps still looked at him oddly, but he’d slid into place so easily. More easily than he’d ever expected. No one said he didn’t belong, which was exactly what he’d wanted. Yet it felt nothing like he’d thought it would. He’d been
prepared to face what he’d left behind armed with bitterness and haughtiness, only to find there weren’t any battles left to fight here. There were only his memories of a confused and neglected little boy, who was too skinny and too pretty for his father to love, who was made fun of by the other kids and misunderstood by everyone. So no, no battles. Only ghosts.

And Paxton.

He’d couched his sexuality a long time ago. It only got in the way, the dissonance between what he was and how he was perceived. And he didn’t think the issue would come up when he first met Paxton. They’d hit it off right away, and Paxton quickly became his friend, which in itself wasn’t much of a surprise. Women often wanted to be his friend, as if friendship with him was something of a trophy. What was surprising was how earnest Paxton was about it, how terribly grateful she was. She’d latched on to him as though she’d been wandering the desert and he was her oasis. And he had to admit it felt good to be her confidant. She was the town’s golden girl, she had everything, and
he
was the one she chose to confide in. But the longer they knew each other, the more comfortable she became in expressing affection, and he slowly began to realize she was feeling more than just friendship. His own feelings confused him, but then, they always confused him. He didn’t know how to address what was happening between them, and since she avoided the subject, he’d assumed this was just temporary, and they carried on like normal.

Until that night at her house.

He took a deep breath, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

She’d been on edge. Tired. She immediately regretted it.

That should have been it, right? But if she regretted it, and he wanted to move on from it, why were they dancing around each other? Why was she telling him he didn’t have to go to social functions with her now? Why was he here, avoiding her?

Did she think she couldn’t keep her hands off him?

Or was it the other way around?

He’d never expected to face this. He thought coming back here would put to bed a lot of old issues. And it had. But it had also opened up a whole new set of issues he’d convinced himself five years ago that he would never have to face again.

And he had no idea what to do now.

TEN
The Magic Man

L
ate Friday afternoon, Paxton couldn’t take it anymore. She had to go see Willa. Why was she keeping quiet? Was she planning on using all she knew against Paxton at a later date? Between the drunken altercation at the Gas Me Up, Paxton’s confession about Sebastian, and, most of all, Nana Osgood’s outburst, the potential for public embarrassment was enormous, and that was the
last
thing she needed right now, more scandal surrounding the Madam. How did she end up so beholden to a woman she barely even knew?

Paxton drove into Willa’s neighborhood and parked behind her Jeep. She straightened her shoulders and marched to the door and knocked. It was still light, and the scent of summer dinners being prepared wafted through the air—sliced tomatoes, freshly popped
beans, the sharp tang of charcoal. When Willa opened the door, the contrast between the two of them couldn’t have been more obvious. Willa was comfortable and casual in jeans and a high-waisted shirt that looked like it was made out of large bandana squares. Paxton was in a beige sheath dress and tailored jacket that she sprayed regularly throughout the day with a wrinkle releaser.

“Paxton,” Willa said, surprised. “Come in.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t be here,” Paxton said as she stepped inside and Willa closed the door behind her.

“I’m always here on Friday night. Friday night is vacuuming night. The fun never ends at Casa Jackson.”

Paxton adjusted the tote bag on her shoulder. “Then what were you doing out last Friday?”