Page 58 of The Corner of Heartbreak and Forever
She stepped behind the counter, and Amber said, “It’s been like this for more than an hour.”
“I’m so sorry. They must have forgotten to add the class times to the flyers.” Grace held her hands up and turned to the crowd in an effort to gain some semblance of control. “Hey, guys, can I have your attention, please?”
As the din of the crowd quieted, Grace took in a host of familiar faces—women and men she’d gone to school with, her friends’ parents, and a slew of teenagers. Among them, Nat stood quietly, a smile on her pretty face.
“Thank you all for coming out. First, I want to be sure you understand these are not paid positions, but voluntary.”
“Of course,” a woman said from somewhere off to the left.
Grace was shocked. She’d expected a number of people to leave when they heard that. “Okay. I never expected this many volunteers.”
“Why not?” a teenage boy asked from the back of the crowd.
She glanced at Amber, whose eyes held the same silent question, and when she answered, the truth came easily. “Because I’ve been entrenched in a cutthroat world for too long.”And I’ve forgotten how amazing and supportive this community is.
Unexpected emotions bubbled up inside her.
Amber must have seen something in her expression, because she took Grace’s hand and said quietly, “We’vegot this.”
Grace cleared her throat, struggling to push past her racing heart and find her voice. “We’ll find places for everyone who’s interested,” she said loudly. “It’s going to take me a few minutes to get things organized. While I’m getting ready, why don’t you show Amber some love and see if you can find a book to buy for yourself, or as a gift for someone else.”
“Good idea!” someone said loudly.
The crowd shifted, moving toward the shelves and talking among themselves as Grace dug in her messenger bag for the outline of the play.
“I can’t believe this,” Grace whispered as she pulled out her notebook. “I need to call Nana and the girls and text Reed and tell him it looks like I’ll be running later than I thought. This could take hours.”
“First, that was brilliant. Thank you,” Amber said. “And second, you’ve been gone a long time, but don’t you remember? This is what it’s always been like. When someone needs help, there are more people than you could ever dream of who are willing to pitch in. Remember when Mom had her hysterectomy and so many people brought dinners over that we had to give most of them away? And when the tree fell on the Jerichos’ barn, nearly the whole town turned out to help repair it?”
“It was the dead of winter. I remember,” Grace said. “I froze my butt off.”
“But you were there, Grace. Just like these people are here for you. That’s why I couldn’t ever figure out why you wanted to move away so badly.”
“I wanted more than this,” she said reflexively, but the words left her lips dulled and unenthusiastic.
“And you got it. The question is, ismorealways better? Because this…” Amber gazed out at the crowd, and her hand covered her heart as she said, “This is everything I could ever hope for in a community.”
Grace asked herself if she’d wanted more than thiscommunity, or more than what the area had to offer her in terms of a career. She was no longer able to decipher the answer.
REED CLIMBED FROM his truck Tuesday evening as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, and as he read his uncle’s message, he realized he hadn’t returned his earlier text in which Roy had also asked him to call. He rubbed an ache in his shoulder and gazed up at the house, missing Grace after only a few hours. He’d wanted to see if she had time for a quick dinner and had driven by the bookstore before coming home, but even from the road he’d seen a swarm of people inside.
He texted his uncle,Just got home. Will call after I shower. We’re confirmed for tomorrow at 7pm to get inside the theater.He wanted to show his relatives and Grace the interior of the theater. He grabbed his tools from his truck and noticed a beat-up old white car crawling past. The trunk was rusted, and one of the back windows was blocked with a piece of cardboard. The hair on the back of Reed’s neck stood on end, his built-introuble radar. He set his tools down and strode toward the street. There was nothing beyond his house other than Sophie’s family’s properties, and he’d be darned if he let trouble find them.
The car pulled over and parked by the curb. Reed folded his arms over his chest, watching a disheveled-looking man climb from the car. He walked with a limp as he opened the trunk and withdrew a shoe box.
“Can I help you with something?” Reed asked.
The man closed the trunk and turned squinty eyes on Reed. He had thick brows, a slightly bulbous nose, and yellowish skin. His pants and shirt hung on him like a boy wearing his father’s clothes, only this wasn’t a boy. It was a weary, sad-looking man with hair the color of pennies and dimes and a beard that was white on the sides and brownish around the goatee area. He took a few uneven steps, and a smile lifted his thin lips, making his eyes look even smaller. A pang of pity rang through Reed.
“Reed,” he said with more than a hint of familiarity.
A spear of recognition shot through Reed as he studied the man’s aged face, trying to pull the image of his father from memories of their visit when Reed had been only four years old, but it was like tugging a fishing line that was hooked on the bottom of a lake, refusing to break free. Could he be wrong? He swallowed hard, breathing harder, and forced his voice from his lungs.
“Yes?”
The man’s gaze dropped, a pinched expression forming on his face as he limped closer. Reed unfolded his arms, feeling the man’s presence like an enemy approaching the gates. Gates that had been erected to protect Reed. Gates he had no interest in unlocking after more than twenty years of absence. A violent storm raged within him as the man stopped arm’s distance away, meeting—and holding—Reed’s steady gaze.
“It’s been a long time,” the man said.
