The Davis Years (Indigo) Read online

  The Davis

  Years

  Nicole Green

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  INDIGO LOVE STORIES

  An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.

  Publishing Company

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  P.O. Box 101

  Columbus, MS 39703

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

  Copyright © 2011 Nicole Green

  ISBN: 978-1-58571-458-2

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition

  Visit us at www.genesis-press.com

  or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0

  Dedication

  To my sister

  Acknowledgments

  First, I would like to thank all of the people who helped me write a stronger, better book. The things you like about this book wouldn’t have been possible without their help. I have to thank my line editor, Mavis, for her hard work and guidance. I must also thank the members of my critique group, the Lovestory Group, from the Internet Writers Workshop, for putting up with me and for being wonderful people all around. And I must thank my first readers, Ashley, Jen, and Pepper. Their input was invaluable.

  To my Beanery writing buddies, Laurin and Phyllis, thank you. Thanks also to the Beanery staff for an inexhaustible supply of iced tea and smiles.

  And, most of all, thanks to my readers. I couldn’t do this writing thing without you.

  Chapter 1

  Jemma wasn’t ready for the train to stop, but it did anyway. She grabbed her bags and joined the line of people in the aisle who were making their way out of the car and onto the platform. She’d come home for the first time in six years, and hopefully the last.

  The humidity weighed everything down, and she felt it the moment she stepped off the train. If air could sweat, it was doing so that day. She pulled her suitcase behind her, scanning the faces of the people on the platform. She wanted to surprise Emily Rose with her returxn, so she’d asked Mary to pick her up from the train station. She hadn’t been looking for her very long when Mary grabbed her.

  Mary said, “It’s so good to have you home.”

  She squeezed Mary’s shoulders. “It’s good to see you, too. It’s not permanent, though,” Jemma said, not wanting her to get her hopes up over something that wouldn’t happen. “I’m just here for the wedding, really.” She’d come home to see her best friend get married. Even accounting for the other thing she had to do, she’d be out of Derring in three weeks. Tops. If possible, she was leaving earlier than that.

  Mary nodded. “I know that’s what you keep telling me.”

  On the drive home, Mary chatted away about life in Derring for the past six years. Jemma was fine with that, as it didn’t require her to say much. She was lost in thought as they passed landmarks she hadn’t seen in years; they simultaneously seemed familiar and yet oddly distant.

  Emily Rose and Jemma had found each other again over the internet. Whatever else had happened in the past six years, Emily Rose wouldn’t get married without her.

  “I knew you’d come home to us,” Mary said as they pulled into her yard. Jemma stepped out of the car. Yellowed grass crunched under her brown flip-flops.

  Jemma nodded, choosing not to remind her so soon that the situation was temporary. She walked to the trunk to grab her suitcase.

  “No, girl, let me carry this for you. You had that long train ride and everything? You just go on in there.” Mary handed her the house key and shooed her away. She wondered what it would have been like to have Mary as a mother. She often wondered that.

  Carrying only her shoulder bag and her purse, she walked up to the front door of Mary’s cozy house, which was more cottage than anything. The sky blue exterior paint had started to peel, but it still seemed cheerful somehow. After unlocking the door, she breathed in the familiar scent of cinnamon. Six years and nothing important about Mary’s home had changed.

  She walked to the room Mary had let her use for those last few weeks before she ran away. A faint smile played on her lips as she crossed the threshold. Mary had transformed the space from her quilting room into a bedroom. There was a small white lamp on a white night stand. A beige comforter covered the bed. A white dresser and matching desk were against the wall opposite the door.

  “I fixed it up for you. I knew you’d be back,” Mary said from behind her.

  She walked farther into the room. “Oh, my goodness. Where did you find this? I don’t even remember taking this picture.” Jemma picked up a photo of herself, Mary, and Fred in their work uniforms. They’d all been cashiers at the Gas and Go, a small convenience store in “town”, if you could call any part of Derring County a town.

  She felt a brief pain inside for that sad little girl with horrible split ends and the straight, skinny body. But she wasn’t that person anymore. She’d changed. She was sure of it.

  Mary said, “Oh. That. You know that’s the only picture I have of you? I keep a copy in my room. On the dresser.”

  “Does Fred still work there?” She traced the woman’s dark, weathered face in the photograph with her finger. Her full name was Alfrieda, but for some reason, everyone had always called her Fred. Mary still worked at the store. She’d told Jemma that on the drive to the house.

  “Yeah. She still works the day shift.”

  “Emily Rose come in much? Or Wendell?” She couldn’t bring herself to name the one she really wanted to ask about.

  “Sometimes Emily Rose does when she’s home. Wendell moved away from here. He hardly ever comes back that I know of. I think he’s in D.C. now,” Mary said. “Well, I better try to get some sleep. I work tonight. You know you’re welcome to anything I have. That includes my car. If you go anywhere, make sure you’re back around eleven so I can get to work on time.”

  Jemma nodded, taking the car keys. She forced a smile for Mary.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. And thanks. For letting me stay here.”

  Mary disappeared down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “You know you’re always welcome here.”

  She’d told herself that the time she spent in South Carolina was supposed to change everything. Being back in Derring, smelling the air and seeing all the places she’d grown up in, made her think maybe she’d lied to herself. Maybe time wasn’t such a great healer after all.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the slip of paper out of her purse with Emily Rose’s number on it. She hadn’t put the number in her phone yet. She stared at the black ink on the white scrap of paper, thinking about how long it had been since she’d seen Emily Rose, not counting photos online. And thinking of how long it’d been since they’d talked—really talked, not just messaging each other online.

  She wanted to see Emily Rose, so dialing the number shouldn’t have been so hard for her. Still, she had no idea what would happen when she dialed it. Six years was a long time, and she’d avoided the person who was supposed to be her best friend all of that time. It was wrong, she knew that now, but she’d needed to cut Derring out of her life in order to
move on. Emily Rose hadn’t seemed angry when they’d talked online, but things might be different face-to-face.

  But wasn’t that why she’d come home? To be there for Emily Rose on her wedding day? To make things right with her? With a heavy sigh, she dialed the number.

  ***

  They met at the community center. Emily Rose was there doing a walk-through since that was where the reception would be and she was her own wedding planner. Jemma was halfway across the parking lot when she heard the squealing.

  All she saw at first was a swirl of blonde hair against dark blue. “Jemma!” Emily Rose squeezed her close.

  “Em Rose, you look great,” she said, pulling back from the hug a little. And she really did. Her blue shirt dress complemented her curvy figure.

  She struck a pose and laughed. “My wedding dress is a size ten. Can you believe it? I’ve never owned anything in a ten. Oh, my goodness. Come on, why are you still standing there? You have to meet Michael’s mom. I have so much to tell you. I can’t believe I’m getting married in a little over a week. I wish I had time to get you a bridesmaid dress. You should’ve let me know you were coming.” She grabbed Jemma’s hand and headed across the parking lot.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said, allowing her friend to pull her into the community center.

  Emily Rose introduced Jemma to Ms. Fletcher, Michael’s mother. She was a tall, slender, severe-looking woman with her brown hair swept into a bun and her pale lips drawn into a line. She didn’t look nearly as thrilled as Emily Rose about the wedding. Then again, she didn’t look like the type to get thrilled about much at all.

  “Emily, dear, why don’t you and your friend catch up and we can talk later about the flowers? There’s a conference call I said I’d dial into if I had time,” Ms. Fletcher said.

  “Sure,” Emily Rose said. When she was gone, something changed in Emily Rose’s face. “She’s really been riding me about every choice I’ve made. I don’t think she wanted it to be here. In Derring. I think she wanted it up in Manhattan. And sometimes, I don’t think she wanted me to be the bride, either.”

  Before Jemma could respond, the storm cloud passed over Emily Rose’s face and was gone. “Well, she’s right about one thing. We have tons of catching up to do. I still can’t believe you’re really here.” They linked arms and headed out to their cars.

  They went back to Emily Rose’s parents’ house for lunch. They were at work so Jemma didn’t get a chance to say hello to them. Michael was getting in that afternoon from New York. After lunch, Emily Rose was taking her along to the airport to get him. It had been a hard-fought battle with Ms. Fletcher to get that privilege, apparently.

  “You should have let me know when your graduation was. I would have totally come.” Emily Rose gave her a small frown before taking a bite of her egg salad sandwich.

  “It wasn’t really a big deal. I was just happy to get the diploma,” Jemma said with a shrug, leaving out how all she’d done was pick up the diploma from the registrar’s office. She hadn’t bothered with the ceremony at all. She hadn’t seen the point. She knew that would have horrified Emily Rose, who loved making a big deal out of such things. She and her aunt had gone out for a quiet dinner the day she picked up her diploma and that’d been the end of it.

  Jemma had been all about business for six years. She’d gotten her GED after moving in with her aunt in South Carolina while working full time. She’d continued to work until she saved up enough money for college, attending a few classes at a community college when she could fit them into her schedule. Then she’d put herself through college in three years and gotten her degree in business with a concentration in marketing. Only school and work had mattered. If she stayed focused on her goals, it was easier to stay strong and forget the past. She didn’t pay attention to things like birthdays, holidays, or graduation celebrations. None of her friends in South Carolina had known when her birthday was. Having never been part of a normal family, she didn’t really miss such things.

  Interrupting Jemma’s thoughts, Emily Rose said, “Still, these things are times for friends and family. You should have seen how many people came to see Michael get his MBA in May.”

  Family. Ha. Her education had never been important to Lynette. The woman had stopped paying attention to her grades somewhere around the sixth grade. “Tell me more about Michael. He’s coming from New York, right?” Jemma said. “He had to stay up there a few extra days?”

  “Yeah, he’s been busy with interviews since a little before graduation.” Emily Rose looked up from the bridal magazine she’d been flipping through. “It must be nice to have a job already, huh?”

  Jemma nodded. She’d told Emily Rose about the job she’d been offered with a small PR and consulting firm in Jacksonville, Florida. She was starting as assistant director right out of college. Earlier that year, the director had decided to retire and the assistant director was taking her position. They’d liked her work as an intern so much the previous summer, they’d asked her if she wanted to take the assistant director position. That summer of working as an unpaid intern during the day and working retail at night to pay her rent had been worth it. Her new job started in about a month. Just enough time to see Emily Rose get married, take care of the other thing she needed to do, and say her goodbyes to Derring for good.

  “I’m still looking for a teaching job, but I dunno. I’m not that excited to be moving to New York for good, you know?” Emily Rose said with a little frown. “I mean, I love Michael and I’d go anywhere for him, but still . . .”

  “Yeah. I know,” Jemma said, but she didn’t. She didn’t see why anybody who had the opportunity to get out of Derring wouldn’t jump at it. Then again, Emily Rose’s Derring experience had been different from her own. “How’s Wendell?” she asked, sipping her sweet tea. “You said you guys keep in touch.”

  “He’s doing well. He’s in law school at Howard. He’s staying in D.C. this summer. He has some sort of law internship up there. He and his girlfriend are coming to the wedding.”

  “Oh, he’s dating someone?” That was good. Wendell had never dated in high school. She was probably part of the reason why, but she didn’t like to think about that. The way her friendship with Wendell had soured before she left was yet another disaster of her past. She’d been good at making a mess of things.

  “Yeah, her name is Stephanie. You’ll meet her at the rehearsal dinner.”

  Jemma wanted to ask more about him and how he’d been, but she didn’t feel like she had any right to do that. He’d taken the fact that Jemma had abandoned them much harder than Emily Rose had—on the outside at least. He’d refused to even say goodbye to her.

  She cleared her throat. She knew asking her next question would make things more awkward, but she had to ask it.

  “And how’s, um, Davis?” she asked. “Do you ever see him? Around? When you’re here?” They just stared at each other for a long moment, both no doubt going back to their painful junior year of high school.

  Finally, Emily Rose cleared her throat and said, “Jemma, Davis hasn’t been doing so great since—well, for a long time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After he lost his scholarship—”

  “He lost his lacrosse scholarship?”

  “Yeah. He messed up his knee really badly. He can still walk and stuff, but no more lacrosse.”

  “Oh.”

  “He dropped out of school pretty much right after that. He moved back home after staying with his brother in Pennsylvania a few months. He was taking care of his dad until a little while ago. His dad had a lot of health issues.”

  “But he hates his dad.”

  “He hates everything. He works at that restaurant near the truck stop. You know, the one near the interstate? Well, this week. He seems to get fired a lot. That place is the only one that’s been willing to re-hire him. So he’s been there off and on for a while.”

  “Why does he get fired a lot?”

/>   “I dunno. Attitude? Not showing up for work? He seems to have both of those problems.”

  “Oh.”

  Emily Rose was quiet after that.

  Jemma bit her lower lip, thinking of the last time she’d seen Davis. She’d been walking away from him. Something she’d once thought impossible. “Why did you say ‘was’? You kept talking about Davis’s dad in the past tense just now.”

  Emily Rose sat back in her chair and slid her plate back and forth between her hands a few times. “He died a few months ago. Single car accident. He wrapped his car around a tree. They say his blood alcohol level was through the roof.”

  “Really?” She wondered how Davis had taken that. Even though he and his dad had never really gotten along, it must have been hard. It had been for her. She’d gone through conflicting feelings of anger and loss when Lynette had died six years ago in an apartment fire. A fire Lynette herself had caused.

  Chapter 2

  Davis rolled over and squinted at his alarm clock. He groaned. Three in the afternoon. He was getting too used to sleeping the day away since his father was no longer able to wake him with his hacking cough or by shouting at him about paying some bill, being late with his rent, or drinking his dad’s beer. Like Davis drank beer. Waste of time. When he drank, he got right to the point.

  He thought of the months he’d spent taking care of a man who hated him and had all but tried to kill him when he was younger. Irony didn’t begin to cover it.

  Neither one of them had liked the other very much.

  He sat up and rubbed his fingers over his eyelids. His mouth was so dry that swallowing took real effort. The phone rang and he winced at the sound. Reaching for it, he knocked an empty whiskey bottle from his night stand.

  “Hello,” he mumbled, blinking his eyes against the sunlight filtering through his window blinds.

  “Hi,” Codie said. She was amazing. It was almost painful to keep in touch with her because she’d done so much with her life and he’d done so little with his. Still, he couldn’t imagine life without her.