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Small Town Secrets Page 3


  “Let’s take a walk,” she said.

  Something about her tone alarmed him.

  “Mary.”

  “To the school and back. Ten minutes. Your chores can wait that long, can’t they?”

  She blinked up at him, her eyes innocent and knowing at the same time. Steady.

  He allowed her to lead him down the road, aware as they went of the approving glances that followed them.

  “My father has cancer.” She spoke casually, as if information of this kind was an everyday occurrence.

  He stopped, his boots skidding on the dusty dirt road. “Cancer. Oh, Mary.”

  Her fingers bit into his arm, the first indication that she was holding back only with extreme effort.

  “Don’t.” The word was low, harsh. “No one else knows. Only my family. And your parents. And now you.”

  He shot a sideways glance at her. “Why my family?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Nate. Let’s sit down.”

  They went to the school playground and got onto a wooden see-saw, he sitting nearer the center so as to even their weight.

  Up and down they went, gently bumping at the bottom, a rhythmic motion that should have been ridiculous, but instead brought back a sense of happy-go-lucky childhood, unburdened by adult obligations, impossible choices and parents with deadly diseases.

  “How long does he have?” asked Nate.

  Mary gripped the metal handle so tightly her knuckles were white. She looked off into the distance. “They won’t tell us.”

  Like her gaze, her voice was steady. A rush of admiration and sympathy welled up in him for her. She was such a strong, kind person. With several younger siblings, she’d no doubt be thinking of them and her mother, rather than herself.

  “Are you… is your family…”

  She answered his awkward question before he’d fully formulated it.

  “We’re well settled, thank you. My father’s interests have done well. In fact, he has a deal pending that, if successful, will ensure our future even without…” She cleared her throat. “Without him.”

  “Oh,” he said. “That’s good.”

  She looked up then as if she’d come to a decision. “That’s where your family comes in.”

  He slowed the see-saw, keeping his boots on the ground and leaving Mary suspended.

  “My father has offered to sell your father the section of land closest to the lake.”

  He was first astounded, then confused, then affronted. Why was he hearing about this from Mary and not his father? His father had been grooming him to take over as long as Nate could remember. They discussed orchard business all the time. Nate’s father had always coveted that rich, fertile section of land but there was no way they could afford to purchase it.

  What had changed? Why was it a secret? And how was it that Mary knew about this before he did?

  Then guilt assailed him. Perhaps the preoccupation he’d been experiencing of late was more obvious than he realized.

  “They’ve agreed on a price, then?”

  She shrugged. “They’re negotiating. I expect they’ll want to speak with you soon. I’m agreeable but I’ve told them the decision is yours, entirely.”

  He shook his head. “What decision? What are you talking about?”

  She waited and suddenly he understood. He froze and felt his eyes widen.

  “It’s not me, Nate.” For the first time, her words were laced with quiet desperation. She spoke quickly. “I’ve told them over and over that there is no understanding between us, that we’re… friends. Only friends. But now my dad is sick, he’s decided there’s no time to waste. It would benefit both families, of course, I can see that. And I’ve… well. I’ve always cared for you. I think you know that. But I… I know you are… undecided. About certain aspects of your life.”

  She stopped, as if she’d run out of things to say and regretted saying as much as she had.

  Pansy. She meant Pansy. But she was too much of a lady to say it out loud.

  *

  September 1959

  Migrant worker camp east of town

  Pansy checked and rechecked her calendar. She had been born into a family of nature-lovers and spent so much of her life outdoors that her cycles had naturally aligned with the moon. Unlike her contemporaries, who spoke in hushed tones about “the curse,” she’d been taught to celebrate this ability of her body to regenerate its life-giving properties. She’d been educated in the signs of fertility and how to prevent an unwanted pregnancy.

  But clearly, somewhere along the way, she’d miscalculated.

  She was late.

  She was going to have a child.

  While disconcerting, this was no reason to panic. In the community she’d grown up in, it wasn’t unusual for families to have “extra” children, born at inconvenient times or to unready mothers. Babies were made in love, they came when they came and all were welcomed.

  It would put a definite monkey wrench into her hopes of seeing the world, but many of Pansy’s friends were mothers several times over already and seemed perfectly content. It had never been her life goal, but who’s to say she couldn’t be content, too?

  Perhaps this would be the deciding factor, the sign she’d been waiting for to finally break her stalemate with Nate. She’d only stayed in Cherry Lake this long for him, dragging her heels on her big plans, hoping still to convince him to run away with her.

  He, on the other hand, had been begging her to stay, assuring her that his family would accept her eventually. She doubted she’d ever receive a true welcome into the Jackson family but perhaps he was right.

  There was nothing like a grandchild to soften hearts and open minds.

  She put a hand to her belly, allowing herself to feel the first flutter of anticipation at the life that lay before her. With Nate at her side, she could do anything.

  They’d have their adventures here and one day, they’d see the world, together.

  She’d been waiting for a sign. What could be more clear?

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Spring, 2006

  Jackson Cherry Orchard

  Jess finally slid off Jason Tiller’s lap and wandered over to the food table. She filled a plate from the various tubs of salads, chips and buns that parents had left for them. Given Jane’s diet of zero calorie soda and celery, it had always been a source of relief to Pansy that Jessica actually ate food. Although the very concept of diet anything struck Pansy as deceitful and pointless, she supposed diet cola was fine – as long as it was an adjunct and not a staple. Jane was lucky she hadn’t burned a hole in her stomach from all that cola.

  Jess took her plate and soda and sat down next to Damon. This time Pansy’s relief was accompanied by hope. Damon Brand was one of the sweetest boys in school. Respectful to his elders, a hard worker, smart as a whip, he was also generous enough to tutor Jess through the worst of her final exams. And kind enough to keep it quiet. He’d had his own challenges getting that high school diploma, after all.

  Damon was exactly the kind of boy she wanted for Jess. He’d be good for her.

  The two sat quietly, Jess eating, Damon holding her drink. They were sitting just beyond the light thrown by the fire, and though Pansy couldn’t overhear their conversation, she could still see the expressions on their faces.

  To anyone else, they might appear unremarkable, two friends sharing a moment. She’d always suspected that Damon’s feelings went further than friendship, but Jess was Jess, bright and flighty, never stopping too long on any one blossom.

  But as Pansy watched, the girl’s butterfly mask slipped. Jess’s posture softened, the loud and overtly sexual persona shifting with what looked like relief into something quieter, more real.

  Jess put down her paper plate and leaned back, her head against Damon’s shoulder and Pansy sighed, recalling the impossibly complicated emotions of youth. This boy, this friend who’d helped her through many difficult times, saw the gi
rl beneath the mask and Pansy suspected Jess had no idea how to handle that.

  As for Damon, well, there was no mask. The hopeless, naked joy was written all over his face.

  “We should get those two together,” she said. She leaned her own shoulder against Nate’s, suddenly overcome. The anguish, the rapture. So wonderful and so horrible, at the same time.

  Nate gave a short, low bark of a laugh. “No way,” he said. “I like that boy too much.”

  Pansy sat up. “That’s your granddaughter you’re talking about.”

  “And I love her, make no mistake. But there is rough road ahead for that girl.”

  “They’re such good friends.”

  He was silent for a bit and she felt bad. They’d traveled the love-friendship continuum for a time, but had never seemed to be quite at the same mile marker. When she was speeding ahead, he was resisting. And when she was ready to slow down, to commit…

  Well.

  Now, their friendship was of such value to her and, she believed, to him, that neither one was willing to make a move that might jeopardize it.

  Plus, as he kept reminding her, they were old. Which was nothing more than a stupid, cowardly excuse, as far as she was concerned. What did age have to do with love?

  Then again, she accepted that she knew far less about most things than she’d once believed.

  “She’s going away,” said Nate. The sadness in his voice was so clear it made her throat tighten up in response. Jess wanted nothing more than to shake the dust of this small town off her high heels and head out for the spotlight, where she’d put her dramatic flair to good use by becoming a famous movie star.

  She’d always been too big for Cherry Lake.

  But Damon Brand’s family was here. They needed him and as long as that was the case, he’d never leave. When Jessica left, that would be it for them.

  She’d leave for excitement and adventure, while he stayed back, shouldering ever more responsibility.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” Pansy whispered. “You know that, right?”

  But she wasn’t sure anymore what her intentions had been. Time faded all the bright, brittle edges of the photos in her mind, leaving only the broad strokes in pastel tones. She only knew that she’d have ruined his life. Nate had belonged with Mary. Whatever he’d shared with Pansy fell into some other category, a category that didn’t exist in the future Nate had planned out for himself.

  What else could she have done but leave?

  “You did what you had to do,” he said. He held her hand in his lap, stroking and patting it absently. “Jess will do what she has to do.”

  “Jess doesn’t even know what she has with Damon. She’s going to regret losing him. Maybe for the rest of her life.” She knew she sounded angry, but she didn’t care. “You could stop her, Nate. Or he could. Why won’t he stop her?”

  Nate smiled, his face full of such gentleness that she couldn’t breathe. He didn’t deserve the kind of suffering he’d had in his life. Why was it that good men so often got hurt by women not fit to hold their hands, let alone their hearts?

  “Ah, Pansy,” he said softly. He stroked her fingers, then held them against his lips. “Damon can’t keep her any more than I could have kept you. Things work out as they’re meant to.”

  *

  October 1959

  Jackson family farm

  Nate stood in front of his parents, his hands clenched into fists and held ramrod tight against his sides.

  His sisters had been sent out of the room for the “discussion.”

  “You don’t understand,” he told them, in a level voice that belied the agitation he felt. “I love her.”

  His mother gave a little sound that could have been a snort or a laugh or a sob, he didn’t know. His father simply ignored him.

  “The bank has agreed to lend us the money. The Lewises need an answer and they’re not short on offers. With the additional land, we can expand the farm in a way that could finally turn things around for us.”

  Nate understood the practicalities. He didn’t care.

  “Mary is very dear to me,” he said, holding onto his calm with all his might. “But I don’t love her. Not the way she deserves.”

  “Jake Lewis’s time is running out,” continued his father. “He wants to leave his family secure. This union will guarantee that. I’ve given him my word. It’s up to you, son.”

  It was phrased as if he had a choice, and yet he’d never felt so helpless in his life. He was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place. He cared deeply for Mary and hated what was happening to her family. But why was it his responsibility to save them? Why was it his responsibility to further his father’s aspirations?

  His father reached out a calloused hand and gripped Nate’s arm, a brief touch of encouragement. “This is your heritage, Nathan. Your birthright. This opportunity will change your future.”

  At Nate’s lack of response, his father let his arm fall away. He sighed then and looked down, then shot a quick, uncomfortable glance at Nate’s mother.

  “This, uh, this girl,” he began.

  “Pansy,” said Nate. “Pansy Oppenheimer.”

  He was furious but knew better than to be out and out disrespectful.

  “You think you’re in love now,” continued the older man. “But love doesn’t feed hungry children. Love doesn’t put hay up for the winter, or pay for new equipment. What will you do, son, when this love of yours fades away?”

  Nate couldn’t speak. He knew if he did, he’d either punch something, shout words he’d regret, or possibly even burst into tears of frustration.

  For the first time, his mother spoke up. “There’s love between you and Mary as well, sweetheart. Young people can get… distracted by… physical desire.”

  Nate wanted to fall through the floor. This was a far worse turn for the conversation.

  “But your father’s right. The passion of youth cannot sustain a marriage without a firm foundation of shared goals for the future. You and Mary will do great things with this orchard. It’s what you’ve both always wanted. You know this, son.”

  Her gentle certainty only served to increase Nate’s panic, for there was some truth to her words. Pansy was not a girl for settling down; she’d never claimed otherwise. Her talk of travel and adventure was thrilling and seductive, but he knew such a life would never be more than a temporary aberration for him.

  If he left with her, what would he come home to? If he managed to convince her to stay with him, would she resent him for it?

  But regardless, how could he marry one woman when he had such feelings for another?

  Nate’s father took a deep breath and shifted some papers under his hand, preparing to gather the reins of the conversation again.

  “I’m sorry to rush you, son. But this is the right thing to do.”

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  October 1959

  Jackson family farm

  All the way to the orchard, Pansy hugged her secret tight to her heart. Upon making peace with this twist in her life, she’d embraced it fully. There was nothing to be gained from railing at fate. The universe was too big and life was too short to try to change things that were beyond your control.

  Being a cherry farmer was exciting in its own right, as well. Her family had always managed to grow or raise or glean much of their own food, and she had no doubt she’d enjoy this aspect of life with Nate. He enjoyed working with the fruit trees and there was nothing like making a living, making a life, amongst the bounty of nature.

  Her shoes made little puffs of dust as she walked quickly along the dirt road to their usual meeting place. It had been nearly a week since she’d last seen him, and longer since they’d last made love.

  She smiled to herself. Their baby had been conceived among the fragrant alfalfa bales in the loft above the cattle barn. It boded well, she thought, for a life to start with such sweetness.

  She rounded the corner and saw Nate s
tanding at the fence. Her heart swelled with joy at how happy he’d be to have her finally agree to share her life with him. He was a good man. They’d have a simple life, but she’d never craved wealth or status.

  And adventure was all around, she reminded herself. You only had to look for it.

  She ran up and threw her arms around him. “I have something to tell you,” she said, biting her lip in excitement at the announcement she had for him. “You’re going to be so happy.”

  But this was not the Nate she knew.

  He shook her off, pacing back and forth along the line of cherry trees, his hands going again and again to his forehead as if he had a headache.

  “What is it?” she asked, her good mood evaporating. He looked not so much foul as desperate. What could have happened to bring such a change over him?

  “Nate, you’re scaring me.”

  He stopped then and braced his arms on the fence, letting his head hang down. He took a deep breath and spoke without looking at her.

  “They’re giving me an ultimatum, Pansy.” His voice was tight with panic.

  “An ultimatum?” she said, confused. “Who is? About what?”

  He lifted his head, very slowly, and looked at her then. Her heart stumbled in her chest. In his eyes, she saw such a depth of sorrow that for the first time, she felt real fear for him. For them.

  “Nathan.” She could barely get the word out. “Tell me.”

  He swallowed, his throat lurching with an audible click. “My parents, Pansy. They’re going to sell the farm.”

  She reeled backward a step. “Sell? But why? Isn’t this your father’s dream? I thought-”

  The words flooded out of him then, gushing, tumbling, crashing violently over her as she tried desperately to make sense of them.

  “Mary’s father is sick.” His voice was ragged, ugly. “Dying. He’s agreed to sell my dad the adjacent section, the one my dad has always wanted, at a price my dad can afford. The sale would secure the Lewis family’s future, after his death, and it would allow my father to expand the Jackson orchard, as he’s always dreamed of doing. Jake Lewis wants to see his wife and children settled before he dies.”