Baby, Come Home Page 21

  “Really?” Tony said, his eyes big.

  “Really. I think you’re going to be taller.”

  Amy bit back a smile. Emily couldn’t have told him anything to make him happier than that he might grow up to be bigger and stronger than his father.

  Emily opened her purse and pulled out a camera. “How about a family photo?”

  “I’ll take it,” Amy offered. She sighted the three of them in the frame and took a couple of shots.

  “Now one of Mom and Tony,” Kendall suggested, then stood aside while Amy took it.

  “And one of Kendall and Tony,” Emily suggested, then stood aside while Amy took that one. They didn’t touch, and both of them looked wary.

  “Will you take one of me and Mom?” Tony asked his grandmother.

  “Of course.”

  Amy handed over the camera, then stood next to Tony and smiled until Emily had taken the shots. Then Emily gestured to Kendall. “Get in with them, son.”

  Kendall started to protest. “Mom—”

  “It’s for Tony,” Emily said. “A picture of him with his mom and his dad. I can’t get you all in the frame, you’re going to have to crowd in a little. That’s it.”

  Amy swallowed when Kendall’s body came up behind hers. It was as close as they’d been since he left her bed that awful morning in the boardinghouse. His sandalwood aftershave reached her nostrils. She inhaled him into her lungs.

  “You look nice,” he whispered in her ear.

  “So do you,” she whispered back.

  “There,” Emily said. “Amy, dear, I’ll make sure you get a copy of these. Are you and Tony staying in Sweetness for a while, I hope?”

  “No,” Amy said, putting her hand on Tony’s shoulder. “We’re heading home tomorrow morning.”

  “So soon?”

  “We were only visiting.”

  “Mom got a big fancy job,” Tony said. “She’s building a dam.”

  Amy smiled. “It’s a reservoir…and it’s not so fancy, but I’m pleased.”

  Tony looked up and cupped his hand over his mouth. “Mom, over there’s Betsy! Can I go?”

  “Yes, but find us again after the ceremony, please.”

  “Okay.”

  “Say goodbye to your grandmother.”

  “Bye, Grandma!” he shouted as he ran off.

  Porter and Marcus appeared, also wearing suits, to give their mother hugs and to accept her kisses. But their faces seemed concerned as Marcus handed Kendall a piece of paper.

  “The D.O.E. report from Richardson,” Marcus said.

  “Give me the highlights,” Kendall said, taking the paper.

  “We passed—barely. But we have to overhaul the cafeteria right away,” Porter said. “No one will eat the food. The waste is bankrupting us…and Richardson threatened to bring the Health Department down on our heads.”

  “We might as well convert it into a diner, like we planned,” Kendall said.

  Porter scoffed. “Can you see Colonel Molly running a diner?”

  “No,” Marcus said. “I’m tired of this nonsense. I’ll find someone else to take over.”

  “Remember, the manager of the dining hall is a position designated ‘female specific’ in our new bylaws,” Kendall warned. It was one of the mandates the Broadway women had put in place to ensure key positions in the community didn’t become male-dominated, at least not within the first five years of the town’s inception.

  “So?” Marcus said with a frown. “I’ll find someone, a woman who can cook, someone I can work with.”

  “A woman you can work with?” Porter said. “I have to see this.”

  “Me, too,” Kendall said.

  “Me, three,” Emily said, giving her eldest a pointed look.

  Amy bit back a smile.

  Marcus frowned. “Isn’t it about time to get this show on the road?” He marched toward the front of the bridge, and Porter followed.

  “We have seats for both of you up front,” Kendall said.

  Emily patted his arm. “Thank you, dear…we’re right behind you.”

  It was Emily’s way, Amy noted nervously, of saying she wanted to have some time alone with Amy.

  Emily walked slowly through the crowd. “The bridge is beautiful, Amy. You should be so proud.”

  Amy fell in step next to her. “Thank you, Emily. I am.”

  “As for Tony, well, I couldn’t be more pleased. What a wonderful surprise for our family.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  “Has my son been a bear to deal with?”

  “At times,” Amy admitted. “Although I’m sure he feels as if he has his reasons to be angry with me.”

  “My son has committed himself to rebuilding this town on an environmentally friendly platform,” Emily said. “But there’s nothing on earth more wasteful than anger directed at something that happened in the past. People have to be concerned with ‘now’ and ‘next.’”

  Amy nodded as they arrived at the reserved-seats section. “That’s a good philosophy.”

  “One we all should take to heart,” Emily said with a pat to Amy’s hand as they took their seats.

  Amy maintained a tight smile. Emily Armstrong had to be a durable woman to raise the sons that she’d raised, and there was more than enough wisdom in that head of hers to run this entire town. But the reason Amy didn’t want to remain in Sweetness was for the precise reason Emily explained—it was impossible to forget the past when you lived in a place that wouldn’t let you.

  Nikki came by and gave Emily a hug. Apparently, they were friends. She sat on the other side of Porter’s mother and they were soon chatting. A news crew from Atlanta was setting up a camera nearby—the Armstrong brothers had secured impressive coverage of the event.

  Amy glanced around to locate Tony and found him sitting several rows back, next to Betsy. They were duly ignoring each other. Among the crowd she saw Colonel Molly who looked stoic in her dress Army uniform. Amy wondered if Marcus knew what he was up against, and could only guess at what kind of steel magnolia would be able to take Molly’s place. Dr. Devine was still in town. He waved as he sat next to Rachel Hutchins. No surprise, there. They made a stunning couple, her Barbie to his Ken. One row back and studying the golden duo like a hawk was Dr. Cross with—Amy squinted—two black eyes?

  Several people, including her foremen and so many other workers, came by to congratulate her. Amy reciprocated, surprised at how many of them she knew by name. Women from the boardinghouse, too—another surprise. She was wary, her guard up, watching for people who talked about her behind her back, but were friendly to her face. But she detected no falseness, only genuine appreciation for the work she’d done for the town.

  “You certainly know a lot of people to only be visiting,” Emily observed.

  Amy didn’t respond.

  “Lovely necklace, by the way,” Emily said, nodding to the pendant that Amy didn’t realize she was playing with.

  “Thank you,” Amy said, feeling oddly comforted by the weight of the smooth pendant. She had no reason to be nervous. The Armstrong brothers would be giving the talks and cutting the ribbon. She would, at most, have to stand if introduced.

  But the crush of the crowd was getting to her, the congratulatory smiles and the hands pressed against hers. It was too…invasive.

  She was glad when Marcus approached the podium and called for everyone to take a seat. He began by talking about the original Evermore Bridge and why it had always been an important landmark in Sweetness. He touched on the devastation of the tornado. Then he explained the reasons they felt it was necessary to rebuild the bridge to connect the land on the other side, as well as mentioned some proposed uses of the land. Dr. Devine was introduced, which triggered much female twittering.

  Then Marcus handed the podium over to Kendall.

  Her heart stirred to see this side of him, the ambassador for the town. His town.

  “When we decided rebuilding Evermore Bridge was our next
priority,” Kendall began, “we couldn’t think of anyone more appropriate to oversee the design and construction than our very own Amy Bradshaw, who grew up in Sweetness.”

  Amy’s skin tingled as eyes turned in her direction, including Kendall’s. She willed him to hurry.

  “As you can see, Amy delivered a structure as elegant as the original, but stronger and more functional, while still maintaining the historical integrity of the design. As you walk through the bridge tonight after the ribbon is cut, notice the unpainted timbers on the inside—those timbers are original to the first bridge and represent our commitment to reclaiming pieces of history and using them to make the future stronger.” He looked at her and smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to ask Amy Bradshaw to come up for a special presentation by Rachel Hutchins.”

  Amy’s skin prickled from the attention—and the applause. What was this all about?

  She walked up, feeling self-conscious, and Rachel appeared, holding a slim package.

  “I’ll keep this short,” Rachel said. “We wanted to give Amy something to remember us by, a little piece of Sweetness to take home with her.” She tore off the brown paper wrapping.

  It was a framed photograph of the original Evermore Bridge, caught in the full glory of a fall day. How many times had she seen it just this way? So many that even with the new bridge in front of her, Amy would always remember it like this. She was touched.

  “Thank you,” she said to Rachel, remorseful for the way she’d treated the woman, suddenly struck by the realization that she’d come back to this place with a chip on her shoulder, expecting to be treated like trashy little Amy Bradshaw. But instead, she’d received nothing but fairness and tolerance.

  She looked out over the audience at the rapt faces of the men, women and children. She’d bet her last dollar that every single person who lived in the town was at this gathering, communing with friends and expressing their sense of pride in the endeavor they’d all undertaken…together. She felt humbled. And unworthy.

  Amy blinked back tears and looked to Kendall for help, to save her from losing it in front of everyone.

  He must have understood because he stepped back to the microphone. “And while we have Amy up here, we’d like to ask her to do the honors of cutting the ribbon.”

  Another surprise, but this one she could do because it kept her moving. Marcus handed her a large pair of ceremonial scissors and, on cue, she sliced the ribbon across the portal. Cameras flashed and clicked by the dozens. Cheers went up and the tiny band from the school started playing something lively but unrecognizable. It was, Amy realized, small-town America at its best.

  She stood aside as residents flooded the bridge, all of them eager for a glimpse inside. The dining tents were instantly filled, too. At Marcus’s request, she did a brief interview with the news crew to talk about the project. Then she tried to make her way toward where Tony and Emily were eating, but kept getting waylaid by well-wishers.

  An hour passed, then another, and dusk began to fall, as well as the temperatures. The crowd began to wane, and Amy found herself alone. She scanned the dissipating crowd for Tony, but she didn’t see him.

  “He’s with Mom,” Kendall said behind her, answering her unspoken question.

  There went her heart again. Amy turned. “She’s good with him.”

  “Lots of practice,” he said.

  “You were good up there tonight,” she said. “Impressive.”

  “Porter’s better at speaking to a crowd, but I wanted to be the one to talk about you.”

  “It was all nice,” she said, then held up the picture. “Your idea?”

  “No. Rachel wanted to do something special.”

  She was probably eager to get Amy out of town, Amy thought wryly. But if Rachel had a thing for Kendall, she couldn’t blame her.

  “I have a favor to ask,” Amy said.

  “Name it.”

  “I ordered a headstone for my aunt Heddy’s grave. When it arrives at the General Store, will you see that it gets set?”

  “No problem.”

  “Thank you.” She saw Tony and Emily nearby. “I guess I’d better get Tony and head back. We still have to pack.”

  “Why don’t we take a walk and let them have a little more time together?” He nodded toward the covered bridge. “For old times’ sake?”

  Amy wavered, then nodded. “For old times’ sake.”

  32

  Kendall reached for the framed picture Amy was holding. “Let me carry that.” He needed to fill his hands with something so he didn’t reach for her.

  She let him take it and pushed her hands into her jacket pockets against the cold air. “The camera crew from Atlanta was a nice touch.”

  “We’re hoping it’ll bring visitors up here to see the bridge.”

  They walked under the eastern portal and slowly made their way across the wooden floor treads, now dusty from hundreds of pairs of feet traveling back and forth to explore the solemn structure. The quiet coziness of it was churchlike, almost spiritual. The clean scents of wood and paint enveloped them. Small lights in the ceiling illuminated the intricate truss design and cast a warm glow below. Sprinkled throughout the structure were the unpainted and aged timbers of the original bridge. They were alone, their footsteps echoing as they walked. It was warmer inside because the massive pieces of wood retained the heat they’d absorbed during the day.

  He glanced at Amy’s lovely profile, wondering what she was thinking. He could tell earlier that the events of the day had gotten to her. He could always tell when she was on the verge of tears. Her bottom lip trembled and her nose twitched. But were they happy tears or sad tears? He’d been away from her too long to read her that well.

  “So what do you think of the bridge?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Is that a trick question? I wouldn’t be much of a designer if I said I wasn’t pleased with my own design.”

  “Okay, what do you think of this bridge compared to the old one?”

  “I don’t think anything is ever as good as the original.”

  He got the distinct feeling she wasn’t talking about bridges anymore. “How can you say that? This bridge is more beautiful than the original and it’s stronger.”

  “Aesthetically and logically, I see that,” she said. “I guess I mean a new version is never as grand as the idea of the original. I have the old covered bridge so romanticized in my head, I don’t think anything could come close to it.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said. “But you can’t let the fantasy of the original overshadow the beauty of what’s right in front of you.”

  She stopped and moved to the side under the guise of examining something on the wall. But he knew that she was aware of every knothole in this structure. She was withdrawing. He leaned the picture against the wall and moved behind her.

  “Amy, I know I hurt you all those years ago, and I’m sorry.”

  Her shoulders started to shake and he realized she was crying.

  He touched her arm gingerly. When she didn’t pull away, he turned her in his arms, lifted her face to the golden light and caressed away the tears with his thumbs. Then he kissed her. He was always so much better at showing Amy how he felt about her rather than telling her.

  He foraged her mouth hungrily, desperate to express how much he needed her. The thought that she could be gone tomorrow increased his intensity. He crushed her body to his, molding her soft curves to his hard frame. Desire whipped through him like an electric current. He pressed her back, into the wall, remembering all the times they’d made love like this in the old bridge. They would tuck into the hidden corners and get as naked as they dared, then slide over each other, timing their release for when an unsuspecting farmer would come lumbering through with a harvest loaded on the back of his truck, sending a vibration through the bridge and their bodies that left them gasping for breath.

  He broke the kiss, then drove his hands into her hair. “Do you remember, baby? Do y
ou remember how good it was? God, I just look at you and want you.”

  She moaned and undulated into him. “Mmm.” Then she froze. “Stop. We can’t do this.”

  He released her, then pulled a hand down his face. His heart and his body were raging. “Amy, I wish I could go back in time and do things differently.”

  She shook her head. “We can’t go back, Kendall.”

  “But we can start from this. We have Tony now, and—”

  “I can’t, Kendall.” Her voice was choked. “I can’t let you hurt me anymore. I’m going back home—”

  “This is your home!”

  “No,” she said through her tears. “Home is more than the place where you’re born, Kendall. I’m going back to my home to forget about you…again.”

  Hurt reeled through his chest. “You’re going to have to deal with me, Amy, because I intend to be a part of Tony’s life.”

  “We’ll see,” she said.

  “No, that’s a fact,” he said, barely managing to keep his voice level. “I will be with my son!”

  Amy hugged herself and started to walk away.

  Kendall felt helpless watching her go. Then he spotted the framed photograph. “Wait!” he called. “Your picture.”

  Amy turned back, but kept walking. “You keep it. I don’t want it.”

  Then she turned and walked out of the bridge and out of his life.

  Again.

  Amy had managed to dry her tears by the time she reached Tony and Emily, who were walking along the ridge of the creek, looking at rocks.

  “Mom, look, Grandma found a real fossil!” He ran over and showed her a red rock with the shell of some ancient (or not so ancient) animal imprinted in it.

  “Wow, that’s exciting stuff. I’d forgotten that the clay around here is good for forming fossils.”

  “Grandma said I could come visit her in Calhoun, Georgia.”

  “Yes, we’ll talk about that,” Amy said. “Meanwhile, you should go say goodbye to your father.”

  He frowned. “I don’t want to.”

  Amy tamped down a spike of irritation. “We’re leaving early in the morning, and you won’t have time to say goodbye then.”