Mrs. Hackney looked more like the wife of a politician than a former grade-school teacher. Her navy blue dress was paired with white gloves and a belt that cinched her thin waist.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hackney. Charles,” Faith said, nodding in his direction.
“I was just telling Charles we should give you a call. Wasn’t I, dear?”
Charles smiled sheepishly. With a round face like his father’s and red hair like his mother’s, many people forgot he wasn’t the Hackneys’ biological son. Mr. and Mrs. Hackney had adopted Charles as a baby when they were in their forties. He was the same age as Faith even though his parents were much older than hers.
“I heard that you have some experience sewing drapery, and Charles is in desperate need of some new window treatments. Would you be willing to help him out? I’ve chosen some lovely fabric, but I’ve never been very good on a sewing machine.”
If by experience she meant the one time Josie roped Faith into helping sew drapes for the high school drama club, then, yes, Faith had experience.
“My last clients weren’t very discriminating. I’m not sure I’m the kind of seamstress you’re looking for.” Faith had a difficult time coming out and saying no to people, but that didn’t stop her from hoping they would change their minds if she gave them an out.
“You did a wonderful job! Everyone raved about how beautiful and realistic the sets were for the fall play.”
Mrs. Hackney would not be changing her mind. For years the woman had been playing matchmaker for her son. He was a nice guy, but not someone who made the butterflies in Faith’s stomach come to life. Shouldn’t the man she was going to marry at least make her heart beat a little faster? Charles and his ho-hum personality were more likely to cause her to flatline.
Always the pleaser, Faith agreed to help and Mrs. Hackney was overjoyed. Charles shifted uncomfortably and said nothing. His mother suggested they talk after church to set up a time to meet and go over the design.
Faith glanced back at the pickup as the Hackneys got in their car. Sawyer gave her a thumbs-up and Dean was definitely smirking. Seeing him smile was almost worth the embarrassment.
The sign outside the flower shop clearly said Closed, but Faith knocked on the bright green door like she did every Sunday. The window boxes were filled to the brim with a beautiful mix of verbena, petunias and white snow mountains. It smelled like heaven.
Faith heard the lock slide open and was greeted by Harriet herself. “Good morning, Sugarplum. Come on in.”
Harriet Windsor had been Faith’s mother’s best friend. When their mom left, Harriet had stepped up and done her best to fill the hole she’d left in the kids’ lives. Her sage advice had been the only way Faith had survived puberty in a house with two clueless males. Sawyer still had the picture of the two of them in his room from when Harriet had gone as his date to the Boy Scouts’ Mother/Son Dinner and Dance.
“I set aside some arrangements I thought you might like, but go ahead and look around while I finish getting ready.” Harriet’s cheeks were rouged but her eyes and lips were bare. Not to mention, her caramel-colored hair wasn’t nearly big enough. There was still plenty of teasing and hair-spraying to be done.
Faith spent a minute poking around but settled on two of the bouquets Harriet had put together. She was the expert, after all. Faith found her upstairs in the bathroom of her small apartment above the shop.
“I’ll take the ones you picked out.”
Harriet smiled at her through the vanity mirror as she applied her mascara. “Good choice. How are you doing?”
Faith’s eyes fell to the baby blue tiled floor. “Fine.”
Harriet knew better. “Missing your daddy or stressed out about the return of one Mr. Dean Presley?”
“You heard, huh?”
“I’m sure half the town has heard by now. No one thought he’d ever come back here. Are you worried about seeing him at church?”
“He’s been staying at the farm,” Faith confessed.
Harriet set down her applicator brush. “He’s what? You’ve seen him already? Has he been nice to you?” She was the only person who knew how horribly things had ended between Faith and Dean. Faith had cried on her shoulder more times than she could count.
“It’s been awkward. It’s like nothing and everything’s changed since the last time I saw him. And he wants Sawyer.”
“What?”
“Dean wants him to come to Nashville with him to record some music. He heard him sing at the Sundown on Friday.”
“Sawyer wouldn’t leave you.”
“I know.” Faith swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. “He’s not going to go. We have NETA coming to do the accreditation visit next weekend. Summer camps start in a month. He can’t go—I can’t do this without him.”
Harriet went back to her makeup. “You don’t need to worry about any of it. Everything is going to work out. You got two angels up in heaven looking out for you.”
Faith wanted to believe that. “Thanks again for the flowers.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Can I still count on you to help me out on Tuesday?”
Faith didn’t feel right taking the flowers for free and Harriet refused to take her money, so once or twice a month, Faith helped at the shop in exchange for the bouquets. This Tuesday was busier than usual, but Faith couldn’t say no.
“I’ll be here.” She started to go. “Sawyer and Dean are waiting for me. I’ll see you at church.”
“Hey,” Harriet said to get her attention one last time. “Don’t let him feed that guilt of yours. You understand me?”
Faith nodded and gave Harriet a reassuring smile even though deep down she knew it wasn’t possible. Dean had been home less than forty-eight hours and her guilt was back with a vengeance and a voracious hunger.
“IT’S FUNNY HOW this town can seem familiar and yet so foreign at the same time,” Dean observed as he and Sawyer waited for Faith.
“It’s not funny how long my sister takes when we need to be somewhere.”
“Be happy you have a sister to be annoyed with.”
Sawyer stopped complaining. Chagrined, he took a deep breath and apologized. Dean couldn’t be mad. He knew firsthand how easy it was to take people for granted.
Dean’s gaze drifted back down the street. He wasn’t surprised the bank where his father had worked for the last thirty years hadn’t changed. There was a new gas station on the corner. The old-fashioned gas pumps were a nice touch and made it look like it had been there forever. The movie theater had gotten a facelift and the sign above the hardware store was new. The barber shop where his mom had taken him to get his hair cut as a child had closed
