Internal Fixation - Tawdra Kandle Page 0,33
Pop cleared his throat. “Deacon. Bout time you dragged your sorry ass back home. C’mere, boy, and let me have a look at you.”
Gram released me, turning me over to my grandfather’s embrace. He clapped me twice on the back and then stepped away, eyeing me up and down. “You look good, son, although I think you could use a shower and a change of clothes. And a shave, for sure.” He squinted. “If you were a horse, I’d say you’d been rode hard and put away wet.”
“Oh, Jimmy, now I’m sure he’s been traveling all night.” Gram patted my arm. “And you must be so hungry.” Her voice was a little reedy, as though she too was fighting not to cry. “Did you come right here?”
I nodded. “I got off the plane and headed for the farm. I’m sorry—I forget about the Christmas party. I honestly wasn’t sure what day it was until I got here and saw all the cars.” I pointed to the tables of people, none of whom seemed to have noticed us yet. “Do you want me to just go on back to my house and then come see you tomorrow?”
“No!” Gram, Pop and Miss Sissie all spoke in unison, but it was Gram who hurried to add, “Don’t be silly. Everyone’s going to be so excited to see you.” She took one of the casseroles from me. “Jimmy, take those cookies from the boy. Deacon, why don’t you slip upstairs and get a shower, change your clothes—you still have some here—and then come back down? You’ll feel worlds better if you do that.”
It sounded like a wonderful idea. Not only did a shower and shave feel necessary, but escaping upstairs would give me a little time to get my balance back after I’d been thrown for a loop by the presence of so many other people. I could take a deep breath before facing the rest of the world.
“I think I will, if you really don’t mind.” I took one step backward. “I can just sneak through the kitchen and up the backstairs.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’d do.” Gram looked at Miss Sissie, and I thought maybe she nodded slightly. But it was possible I was imagining it. “Go on now. We’ll put out this food, and when you come back down, you can get something to eat.”
“All right.” I bent to kiss her cheek and then slipped around the house, skulking through the side yard and praying to avoid seeing anyone else. I managed to make it to the three steps that led up to the porch and swung open the screen door. But the minute I got inside the kitchen, I froze. This time, I was the one paralyzed with surprise.
“Anna, how many plates of this fudge do you want me to put out? And should I leave a few dishes of what I’ve already cut in the fridge for later?” Emma glanced up at me, and then her brown eyes went wide as she dropped the butter knife she was holding.
I swallowed hard and coughed. “Hey, Emma.”
“Deacon.” She moved to the other side of the table as though she needed to have it between us for protection. That stung more than I cared to admit. “You’re back.”
“Yeah.” I stuck my hands in my pockets, mostly to keep from reaching for her. “I just got here. I didn’t have any idea about the party going on today, but I wanted to come to see Gram and Pop right away . . . what’re you doing here, anyway?” It hadn’t even occurred to me initially that it was strange for Emma to be at the farm. She seemed at home, familiar with the kitchen. Oddly, I felt like the one who didn’t quite belong.
“Why shouldn’t I be here?” She propped her hands on her hips and glared at me. “It just so happens that not everything stayed the same after you took off for Europe, Deacon. Your—Anna and Jimmy have been very good friends to me. They both helped me build my cabin and plant my gardens, and—”
“Wait. You built your cabin?” When I’d pictured seeing Emma again, it had always been in her little ramshackle trailer, the site of so much of our interaction. I’d actually longed to sit on the tiny wooden deck she’d built herself, snuggling with her in the lounge I’d bought. The fact that she didn’t live there anymore felt like one more kick in the gut.
“Of course,