Page 75 of Call It Home

“What the…” Before I understood what she was talking about, she stumbled into my arms and went limp. Instinctively, I caught her and held her against me just as Beverly Seymour caught up to us, wheezing.

She gave Cam and me a disapproving scowl. “Cameron Allen, you might be on a television show, but you are not an actress,” she said between pants. She fanned herself and peered at me. “Young man, sit her on that bench and go get me a cup of water.” When I hesitated, glancing down at Cam, she let out an exaggerated groan. Beverly ignored her. “Now, if you please.”

“Sorry, princess,” I muttered as I guided her to the bench. As I headed back to Ruth’s, I heard Beverly say, “Give it up, Cameron. You’re not fooling anyone. I can see you squinting.”

By the time I returned with two cups of ice water, Cam was sitting up with a defeated look. I handed both of them the water. Beverly took several sips, while Cam looked like she was trying to decide who she wanted to throw it at more, me or Beverly.

“Did you need us for something, Mrs. Seymour?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Why didn’t either of you tell me or any member of the city council that HRTV would be filming here for the last episode ofRenovation Station? We have to prepare for something like that.”

“Mrs. Seymour, there’s nothing to prepare,” Cam responded.

“Of course, there is! We need to make sure we have fresh flowers in all our baskets along the streets. Banners and welcome signs need to be hung, and speeches need to be written.”

“Speeches?” Cam sputtered. “Mrs. Seymour, exactly what do you think this is going to be like?”

“Why, it’s another event, bigger than the kickoff for your show.”

I knew I was staring bug-eyed at her. Fortunately, Cam had “recovered” enough to stand her ground. “Mrs. Seymour, no. I will be hosting the small crew at my house, along with Mac and my family. Kind of like you see for the NFL draft or the families of Olympians when they can’t travel so far overseas.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh, but I am. It’s easier on the crews and, more importantly, on me and Mac.”

Mrs. Seymour looked crushed. “The crews will still have to stay in town,” I reminded her. “They’ll still see the town, which always looks more than ready to host. You want it to look natural, right? Not put on. It will be fine, I promise.”

She looked a little mollified. “Well, I guess that’s true.” She stood up and handed me her cup. “Thank you, Mackenzie. I’ll just let the council know of the change of venue.” She wiggled her fingers in a little wave. Then, with more energy than she should have had for a woman who’d huffed and puffed her way to catch us, she hurried down the sidewalk.

Cam’s smile faded. “Wait. What did she mean by ‘change of venue’? They’re all coming to my house now?” She whirled on me. “I told you that you should have faked a heart attack.”

* * *

As I rounded a curve on the highway that led to the small Virginia town that housed the state prison where Trey was, I deliberately stared straight ahead, determined not to look at the road sign that would have taken me to the farm Marti had shown me a few weeks ago. Trey was never going to understand my decision to walk away from it. But in my mind, it was too early to start something on my own. Trey still had two more years before he would be released. I would rather wait and start something together. That would also give me time to build more funds.

It also gave me the time to figure out a new plan, one where I could stay in Sterling Mill and maybe set Trey up with something else, such as his own business. I could be his backer, set him up in a smaller place where he could have his privacy. Or we could be one business but work from two locations. It sucked, but he’d have to stay in Virginia, according to his parole terms upon release, but maybe I could find property closer to the Tennessee border for him, making it easier to make frequent visits.

So far, I hadn’t said anything to Trey about Cam, other than about our working relationship. But I was done with that. I didn’t care what the guys at work thought anymore, either. Her family had accepted us easily. People in town seemed to have no problem thinking of us as a couple. In fact, it seemed most had assumed we already were.

Cam had never really asked questions about Trey after I gave her the simple answer about him being in prison. I assumed she thought it was too touchy a subject to ask more about. And I hadn’t volunteered anything because I worried it would lead to questions I no longer had an answer for.

And apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had news to share this weekend. Trey had sent me a brief email saying he had some more to share when I came. He didn’t give any hints, but I knew he was also careful about what he put in writing because someone else would read it before it ever reached me.

I waited patiently as I presented the correct documents and was scanned and then permitted access through security, where I was escorted to the visitation room. It wasn’t long before Trey came in. We did the usual quick hug before we sat across from each other at the old wood table.

“I’ve got—”

“There’s something I need—”

We both stopped and chuckled. It was the only lighthearted moment I could recall ever sharing with him in the past six years.

“You go first,” I told him.

“I heard from Christian.”

“Yeah? Anything new?”

“I’ll say. They granted me an early parole hearing.”

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