Nine
Faith piled one more extension cord on the mountain of supplies needed for the ice-sculpting competition and checked that box off her list. “Done.”
She leaned against the wall, hung her head, and closed her eyes. God, she was so tired. And not just no-sleep tired, but her-body-hurt-in-a-million-new-ways tired. Ways that made her smile, despite the discomfort.
The thought of Grant hanging with his brother warmed her heart, and she couldn’t wait to hear about their talk after years of estrangement. She didn’t like Patrick as a drunk or a womanizer or a compulsive liar-borderline-narcissist. But she’d heard he’d been sober for a while, and hoped his
time with Grant gave them both a little healing from the wounds their family carried.
At the same time it made her sad. She missed her dad. Last night, falling asleep in Grant’s arms, was the first night she hadn’t cried herself to sleep in longer than she could remember. Faith knew it wouldn’t be the end to the loneliness or the tears, but she was deeply grateful for the reprieve and the glimmer of hope he’d given her.
And, yeah, she realized there would be another gaping hole in her life when he went back to DC after Christmas. But she’d deal with it when it happened. She certainly wasn’t going to rush it one second faster than she had to. Faith was going to enjoy that boy right down to the wire, and when it was time to let him go, she’d let him go. And she’d be happy for him, because he’d be going back where he belonged, with people who loved and respected him. Who understood and supported him.
She couldn’t want more than that.
Except...
Her mind whirled with possibilities that were really just pure fantasy. Faith laughed at herself and shook the impossible from her mind so she didn’t get unnecessarily hurt when this little fling ended.
She rubbed at tired eyes and refocused on the list. The door to her store chimed, and faith pulled her phone from her back pocket to check the time. But even before she could begin to wonder who would stop in at this late hour, the light clip-clip-clip of high heels sounded in the store.
Dread coiled in the pit of her stomach. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and told her dad, “Leaving me to deal with her was cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Faith?” Natalie called. “Where are you?”
“Back here.” She set the list aside and straightened the supplies headed to the festival tomorrow.
Natalie came around the corner, and her pretty blue eyes immediately skated over the mound of supplies. “Oh, is that all for our artists?”
Faith smiled. The Art League liked to think everyone involved with their organization was an “artist,” but Faith knew for a fact there were a lot of rednecks who brought their chainsaws and twelve packs out to this event in the hopes of winning a prize or two.
“It is.”
“And you’re on schedule for set-up tomorrow?”
“I am.”
“You do know of the large number of last-minute registrants?”
“I do. It’s fantastic.”
“Isn’t it?” Natalie exhaled and gave Faith that plastic smile. “It’s the biggest turnout for the contest in the history of the festival. Grant’s really pulling in money for the community. I just want to make sure—“
“Grant?” Faith’s gut tingled, but not in a good way.
“Yes, Grant. I know you’ve been...spending time with him. I was coming home from my sister’s bridal shower late last night. And I mean late—we Duboix girls really know how to party—and I noticed his car here.”
Discomfort pierced Faith’s gut, an automatic reaction. Her father had only been gone six months. She didn’t want to appear to be gleefully making use of his absence by sleeping with random men. It might be irrational, but she knew how people talked, and he’d given so much to this town. They both had. She didn’t want his memory tarnished in any way.
So, even though her relationship with Grant was none of Natalie’s business, she said, “I had an emergency water leak in the basement. Grant was nice enough to help me fix my pipes.”
Natalie laughed, a low, edgy laugh. “I’m sure he did. Grant’s fixed the pipes of half the women on Manhattan’s list of most eligible bachelorettes. But just so we’re clear, he’s with me for the festival. We’re MCing ice-carving together, we’re judging together, we’re going to the awards banquet together. We’ve also got plans to spend the evening together afterward.”
Anger flared, pushing a flash of heat through Faith’s chest, neck and face. She bypassed the whole Grant issue for the moment and went straight for the knife in her heart. “Hold on. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m judging.”
“It’s all over the fliers we sent out. They’re posted in your windows, Faith. The reason we have so many entrants is because Grant is judging this year.”
Embarrassment washed in and joined her anger. How could she have missed something so important? “I don’t have time to read every line of the marketing campaigns others hang in my window. And the fact that you didn’t come to me directly, but waited until the posters were printed, and told me at the last minute is pure cowardice.”