Unfinished Business Read online

Addy and Claire drove in together, pulling up outside the community center just before seven o’clock.

  The meeting room was full. Lowell Duncan, the town mayor, called the meeting to order behind a microphone that squawked when he spoke into it. He stepped back, smiled and tapped it a couple times, then spoke again. “Good evening, everyone. You all know why we’re here tonight. One of the proposed routes for Interstate 92 plows a path right through the heart of our county. Many of you have homes and businesses that will be directly affected. At the table to my left, we have several representatives from the Virginia Department of Transportation as well as Congressman Bill Powers. Congressman Powers, if you would like to speak first, then we’ll open the floor up to discussion.”

  A short man with a big voice, Congressman Powers removed the microphone from its stand and stepped out from behind the podium. “I’m very pleased to be here tonight, although I’m sure most of you would prefer that it be for another reason. This is not the easiest point to make, and certainly not the most popular, but I believe that what is in the best interest of many sometimes involves the sacrifice of a few. The proposed route for Corridor A would bring about a good bit of change in this county, but the studies show that the resulting creation of new businesses would actually be a major economic boost to the area.”

  The congressman continued on for another twenty minutes, during which the mood of the crowd did not soften. Addy looked around at the people who sat with folded arms and straight backs, their faces set in disapproval.

  The congressman concluded with a pitch aimed at the greater good.

  Mayor Duncan stepped forward. “Thank you, Congressman. We’ll now take questions and comments.”

  Addy and Claire were seated in the middle of the room. All around them, people raised their hands, wanting a turn to speak. Things heated up fast. Over a hundred homes would be bulldozed should this route be chosen, one of them with documents dating back to 1769 and a land grant from King George III of England. There was history in the community, and people didn’t want to see it replaced with truck stops.

  After the fifth person had spoken, Addy leaned over and whispered to her mother, “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “I hadn’t planned to.”

  “You should.”

  Claire shook her head and then, “Oh, why not?” She raised her hand.

  Mayor Duncan nodded and said, “Claire?”

  Claire stood, cleared her throat. “Both my home and business stand to be destroyed if this proposal goes through. I realize that wherever the road is built, someone will lose something they value. And I understand that some people think the economic growth stimulated by such a road would offset the loss to people like me. That very well may be true, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love my home. My grandparents started Taylor Orchard in the twenties. Times are a little hard right now, but it would be very painful to see the efforts of generations of my family bulldozed and paved over as if they were never there. I know that’s true for others in this room as well.” She sat down.

  “Thank you, Claire,” the mayor said.

  Addy squeezed her mother’s hand. Claire squeezed back.

  The door opened in the back of the room. Addy glanced over her shoulder. Culley stood just inside the entrance. He lifted a hand. She raised a hand back, glad to see him in a way that said a lot of things that were hard to deny.

  The discussion went on for another hour, during which Claire’s sentiments were echoed again and again. Mayor Duncan thanked everyone for coming and called the meeting to a close. People stood in clusters talking, Claire stepping aside to speak to some of the ladies from church.

  Addy made her way to the back of the room where Culley stood waiting.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “I wanted to be here at the beginning, but I had an emergency at the office.”

  “Everything all right?”

  “Should be. Walk you outside?”

  She nodded.

  The night was warm, the sky just beginning to darken. They stood by the entrance, while the crowd from the meeting streamed out. Most of them offered up friendly hellos. “Evening, Dr. Rutherford. Addy.”

  “People like you here, don’t they?” Addy said.

  “I like the people here, so it’s mutual.” He studied her for a moment. “Can I drive you home?”

  She hesitated, debated the wisdom of it. She realized, though, that she wanted to go. “Let me just go tell Mama.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  A few minutes later, they were headed out of town, down some country roads she hadn’t been on in years. They looped through the county, taking whichever turns suited them, just driving.

  “Do you think the meeting went well?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Powers seems pretty determined. But there was a lot of emotion in there tonight. That has to mean something.”

  “I hope so,” she said. “I believe in progress. And I know things have to change sometimes. But it’s not always worth the price.”

  They ended up at the municipal baseball field, a place where all the teenagers used to hang out when they were in school. Culley parked the car, and they got out, leaning against the front of the Explorer.

  “Now this brings back some memories,” Addy said.

  “Can you still hit like a boy?” he asked, grinning.

  She leaned back, chastising, “Chauvinistic and beneath you.”

  “Well, you did hit better than most of the boys.”

  “True.”

  He pointed to the sky. “What a great night for a telescope.”

  “You used to be into astronomy.”

  “Back when I thought it would be great to live somewhere else, even another planet. Anywhere but under my dad’s roof.”

  Addy heard the forced lightness in his voice, but knew there was truth behind the words. She put her hand over his, squeezed once.

  He looked at her, started to speak, stopped, then said, “Liz called last night. She asked me to come see her.”

  Addy blinked, not sure what to say. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s going to be released soon.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

  “I think so. She seems remorseful. I know she never meant to do what she did.” He drew in a deep breath, then blew it out. “I’ve wished so many times I could snap my fingers and change what happened. Roll back the tape and put her somewhere so that she was forced to give up the drinking. But I can’t do that. And now I just want it to end. This feeling responsible for her. That’s terrible, isn’t it?”

  Addy reached out, put a hand on his arm. “I’d say it’s a part of who you are. An admirable part of who you are.”

  “I don’t feel admirable. More like resentful. Like the ball and chain she’s tied to herself is tied to me, too.”

  “What will she do when she gets out?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think she’ll start drinking again?”

  “Madeline asked me the same thing.” He looked down, let out a heavy, burdened sigh. “She had a nightmare last night. About the accident. It was the first time she’s ever talked about it. I’ve gotta tell you, it pretty much tore my heart out.”

  “Was she okay?”

  “After a while, yeah. And maybe it was actually good that it surfaced. I’ve worried all along that she’d put that day away and refused to look at it. Maybe now, she can start to let that part of it go. But I think she’s worried about what’s going to happen to her mother.”

  They stood for a while, the silence between them comfortable in a way that Addy might have found stilted with someone else.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “You think there’s a reason why we’re in each other’s life again after all these years?”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know.”


  He reached out, ran a finger across her hair. “I’ve walked around these last three years feeling like there was this big hole inside me. And since that night in New York, that hole has felt like it’s getting smaller.”

  She had no idea what to say. They were headed down a path she’d declared she had no intention of taking. And yet, here she was, wishing again that he would kiss her.

  Which he did now. Thoroughly. The kind of kiss that melts any resolve to remain clear-headed. The kind of kiss that goes on for a while and ends with reluctance.

  A half smile touched the corner of his mouth. “I always wanted to take you parking,” he said.

  Addy gave him a look. “Like you could have fit me in. Your Friday and Saturday nights were booked.”

  “Were not.”

  “Were, too.”

  “So what would it have been like? The two of us. If Mark hadn’t come into the picture, I mean.”

  She’d wondered herself. Many times. “Probably never would have worked.”

  “Why?”

  “You dated cheerleaders.”

  “And you’re going to hold that against me?”

  “Just making my case.”

  “I can offer evidence to the contrary, counselor.”

  “Proceed.”

  He leaned in, kissed her again.

  She could have attempted indifference, but the performance would have fallen flat. It was pretty much out of the question when a man kissed like that.

  Several minutes later, she said, “Okay, so point made.”

  He smiled. “What do you think about a date tomorrow night?”

  “What kind of date?”

  “A real date. The kind where I come to your front door, pick you up and we go to dinner or a movie.”

  “What happened to the friends thing?”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “That kind of feels like it would be settling.”

  She could think of a dozen reasons to say no, each of them valid. But Ellen’s voice popped into her head. You’re letting Mark win.

  “Okay,” she said. “What time should I be ready?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ADDY FELT LIKE a teenager. She’d changed clothes a half-dozen times before finally settling on a pair of black Capri pants and a halter-style Gap T-shirt.

  Culley picked her up at six-thirty, and his response when she opened the door was the one a girl hopes for.

  A long stare, and then, “You look amazing.”

  She smiled. “You look pretty great yourself.”

  He wore blue jeans and a white shirt that emphasized his well-shaped shoulders. Throughout the day, she’d repeated her resolve to remain levelheaded about what this night would be. But attraction had its own agenda, and she couldn’t deny that the friendship pact was not holding water.

  In fact, it was sinking fast. Being redefined by something over which she was beginning to think she had little control.

  They drove thirty miles to Roanoke, ate dinner downtown at an upscale restaurant that featured American-style cuisine. The walls were paneled in mahogany. Sconce lighting gave the place an immediate feeling of intimacy. They sat in a booth in one corner of the restaurant, drank red wine that rolled smoothly on their tongues.

  The food was wonderful. Addy ordered a tomato and mozzarella salad with basil and aged balsamic vinegar. It was so good she could have made that her entire meal. For two hours, they ate and talked. About everything, one topic weaving itself into another, college and work, Madeline’s already blooming talent for drawing, Addy’s concern that Sheriff Ramsey had not yet established a credible lead as to who was behind the threats against Claire and others in the community opposed to the route leading through Lindmore County.

  “I heard Owen Blankenship’s hay barn was set on fire early this morning,” Culley said. “Took out a winter’s worth of round bales.”

  “He’s got the big dairy farm on Route 638, right?”

  “Yeah. Owen’s been pretty vocal about his opposition. He’s taken out some ads in the paper. Even challenged Congressman Powers to a public debate. Owen’s another landowner who would see his property sliced in half. Not too desirable to have half your cows on one side of the interstate and half on the other.”

  “Are they sure this was related to that?”

  Culley nodded. “Apparently, this one came with a threat to his family.”

  Addy felt the color leave her face.

  “Whoever’s behind it is serious.”

  “So short of selling out without a fight, what can we do?”

  “They’ll mess up at some point. They’re getting too brazen.”

  “I just hope it’s sooner rather than later. I think I’ll call home and make sure everything is okay.” She pulled her cell phone from her purse. Claire answered on the first ring, assured her there was no reason to worry and that she shouldn’t give it another thought.

  “I have a feeling if anyone shows up there again, Claire’s going to be ready for them,” Culley said. “She still have that old .22?”

  “Yeah. Not the most powerful gun, but she could do some damage.”

  Culley smiled. “Remember the time she ran off Wimmer Brown when he accused us of stealing from his ice-cream truck?”

  She nodded, and then they both laughed. “That old truck probably hit sixty going down the driveway.”

  They went on to other topics, old memories and new stuff, too, careers, aspirations, disappointments.

  Growing up, the two of them had been able to talk to each other about anything. They still could, and it was something she had missed. She and Mark had reached a point where they couldn’t talk about anything. Couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

  “Do you ever miss your marriage?” she asked, rubbing a thumb around the rim of her wineglass.

  He considered the question for a moment, then, “I miss being married. I’m not into the singles scene. Some of my buddies wax poetic about what they’d do if they had their freedom back, but it’s not what they think it is.”

  Addy made a gesture of agreement. “My friend Ellen in D.C. has been divorced for about five years. I’ve listened to enough of her dating horror stories to know I’m content to stand on the sidelines.”

  “It’s not that easy to meet someone. There are a lot of desperate people out there.”

  “I think Ellen has dated most of them.”

  He smiled.

  She tapped a thumb on the edge of her plate, reaching for honesty even though she knew it would leave her vulnerable. “I feel like I have this shield around myself now, and the thought of letting someone past it…frankly, terrifies me.”

  Culley’s expression was somber now. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, and then said, “You put your trust in someone you loved, and he let you down.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “It’s like I’d been following this one particular road map all those years, and then I wake up to realize I’m in a completely different place than I had thought. And my map is all wrong.”

  He reached across the table, took her hand. “He’s just one man who obviously didn’t realize what he had. The whole world’s not going to treat you that way, Addy.”

  She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, embarrassed by the sudden tears. “I hate how much it still hurts.”

  “I hate that he hurt you.”

  “I wish I could snap my fingers and make it go away.”

  “I don’t think it works that way. When someone lets you down, it’s like having your feet knocked from under you. It takes time to believe you can get up and actually start walking around again. I know that from my own life.”

  Addy looked at him, saw the understanding in his eyes, felt the forging of a new bond between them. “So maybe that night in New York was a stroke of luck. Or fate. Do you believe in that?” she asked softly.

  “I believe we have threads in our lives that are sometimes left hanging. That if we’re lucky we get an opportunity to follow through on them.
”

  “And you think we’re one of those threads?”

  He gave her a long, assessing look, his eyes warm and intense. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

  She had tried these past weeks to keep her feelings for Culley in a box small enough that she could deny their existence. But the box was splitting at the corners, the sides no longer able to contain the simple fact that she was happy when they were together. Happy. And just that was enough to make her wonder if it was time to see what they could be. To stick her head out of her shell and discover what the world could look like if she allowed herself to see it through new eyes.

  They decided to split dessert. It arrived at their table on an oversize plate, a warm chocolate cake drizzled with a white chocolate sauce.

  Addy dipped her spoon in, closed her eyes and savored. “Umm. Oh, that’s good.”

  He tasted it. “If I eat more than three bites, stab me with your fork.”

  Addy laughed. “More for me.”

  They took their time driving back. He had FM radio in his car, and she found a station that played hits from the eighties. Fleetwood Mac. Foreigner. The Cars. The songs brought back memories of hot summer days when they would ride their bikes out to the pond at the edge of the orchard and sun themselves on the dock, eating tomato sandwiches they’d packed in a cooler and drinking lemonade out of mason jars.

  Addy felt like she was in high school again, wishing for the ride home to take longer than it should. Too soon, Culley pulled into her driveway, cut the engine. He had the sunroof open, and Addy dropped her head against the seat, looking up at the sky. He reached for her hand, threaded his fingers through hers. They sat that way for a minute or two before she said, “So what is this?”

  “Us?”

  “Yeah, us.”

  “You sure you want to define it right now? Because I have a feeling if we do, you’re going to run. And I think it scares you to death that this might be something other than what you’ve already labeled it.”

  She laced her fingers together. “We have history. I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to mess that up.”

  “To me, that history feels like a beginning. As if we have a whole foundation of knowledge of one another.”