Debbie’s arm. She turned a look on Justine. “It’s okay, dear,” she said, a sadness in her eyes. There was something else too, but she wasn’t sure what. Perhaps a wave of relief that her son Lenny never ended up with her despite his many attempts?
Justine dropped her gaze to the wood floor beneath her shoes. Physically, she was in the town’s great lodge, a place filled with fond memories, family fun, and reminders of the satisfying hours she’d put into the festival over the years. But mentally, Justine was cornered on the playground of her elementary school with a dozen accusing eyes aimed right at her.
”She doesn’t even have a mom.”
“Yeah, she does. She’s just a drunk.”
“Come on, guys. Just leave her alone.”
Comments like that last one usually came from Monica, a new girl who’d taken up with the wrong crowd. She hadn’t stayed in Piney Falls long, but for the few years she was there, the timid girl made efforts to put an end to Brittany’s interrogations. Seemed it was Marci’s place to do that with Debbie Barns.
“Excuse me,” Justine said without looking back up. She spun back toward the exit, head down, heart pounding, and eyes set on the interior hardwood. The exterior wood of the porch came next, the steps, and at last, solid dirt. Pine needles littered the ground in the fray of the light as she hurried toward the truck.
Just go. She had to escape the scene before that all-too-familiar sting of rejection pushed its way back into her life. Rejection from a woman who was meant to love her. Care for her. To stay with her. Yes, at very least, she should have stayed.
Justine climbed into the truck and roared the thing to life. Perhaps she should head east on the interstate and keep on driving. She’d pass through state after state, filling the old tank along the way, and get as far from the wretched embarrassment as she could.
The engine revved hot and loud as Justine accelerated. She turned onto the interstate and lowered her foot on the pedal as heat moved up her shin from the pressure. Who cared if Officer Doug pulled her over? He was likely on rounds at the other side of town anyway.
The thought had her pressing the gas with even more conviction, eyes set on the dark road, fingers gripping the wheel. Her shoulders lifted as she passed her turn. Further down the way, Justine was very aware that the animal graveyard was nearing, but she made a point not to look at it.
Not to think about the man who’d helped her bury the sweet calico cat. Or the way he’d blindly agreed to play the role of her fake fiancé. A laugh got stuck in her throat as she considered the way he’d worsened things by saying he’d come to dinner the following night.
Thoughts of their time at the Steakhouse came next. When he’d warmed her arms with his hands under the stars.
If I catch some fish, will you teach me to cook it like Wilfred?
Her limbs went soft at the recollection, making her realize how very tightly she’d been locked onto the wheel. Yes, she had definitely melted inside at his request. Her heart had simultaneously burst into a sprint. But she knew men well enough. They wanted a good time no matter how sliver-thin their chances for anything long term were.
No, Burke had valiantly fulfilled his call of duty. And, by this time next week, he’d probably be gone. Life in town would go back to normal, and…and what?
A mean ache tore through her heart at the thought. She didn’t want things to go back to the way they were before he came. Her once fulfilled life would feel very…empty for a while. But hopefully it would just be a while.
At the mere thought, an image of Brittany came to mind.
“What a brat,” she mumbled. “Can’t believe she told people I was bringing him.” She’d specifically said that she was not bringing her fiancé to the festival, that he wouldn’t be able to make it. But this was what Brittany did best—humiliate people.
It had taken Justine years to see things clearly. To realize just how cruel it was to harass a motherless child for being motherless. If she’d have been able to grasp just how unjust the torment was, perhaps Justine would have spoken up for herself back then.
In the third grade, when things were at their worst, Justine had lied about her