Stillwater Rising Page 19

  “An extra large.” Robert was down on his knees trying to figure out how to put the booth together.

  “Please.” Anne Marie nudged Robert with her foot.

  He scowled at her but said please, nonetheless.

  “A tea would be great,” Shelley said. “I should probably stay here and help since I’m the one responsible for it being in such disarray.”

  “Anne Marie?” Jenn asked.

  “I’m good, thank you, though.”

  She made her way down the beach, her feet pushing into the sand with each step. It would have been easier for her to walk on the pathway, as her shoes were filling up with sand, but she loved the way her feet sank down and the feel of the scratchiness of the sand against her toes as it seeped into her shoes with each step.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.” Merille met her halfway.

  “I wasn’t sure if I was going to.”

  She followed Merille to the others. There were five others in the group. The conversation halted at her arrival. No one said a word as they all looked at her, and Jenn felt more than a little self-conscious. She crossed her arms and looked each person in the eye. All the families here had lost a child thanks to Gabriel Berry. The underlying theme that bound them together was that they understood the pain of death. Of a child’s death.

  In those first few moments, Jenn should have been made to feel welcome. After all, her own child had died. She was a parent who knew their pain, shared it even. So why did she feel alienated in a group that should count her as one of their own?

  She stood there, on the outskirts, and waited for someone to step back and allow her an opening. All it would take was a slight shuffle, a step back, and there would be room for her, but no one moved. Merille stood a bit off to the side to allow her to at least see everyone, but it wasn’t much.

  “What’s she doing here?” Trevor Blackstone, Merille’s husband, sneered over at Jenn.

  “I invited her,” Merille said. She lowered her gaze to the sand at her husband’s expression for a moment before she looked over at Jenn and gave her a half smile.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” Jenn responded to Trevor. She’d never liked him. Abrupt and brusque, he carried a chip on his shoulder. He stood there, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his wide frame, making his biceps bulge and his tattoos more prominent.

  “Not sure how our conversation has anything to do with you.” He gave her a dismissive glance.

  “Depends on what the conversation is about, doesn’t it? If you’re talking about what needs to happen to the school in the upcoming year, then I might have an idea or two.”

  “I told you she understood.” Merille nudged her husband with her elbow.

  “Is this everyone?” Jenn asked.

  Besides Merille and Trevor, Julie and Frank were there—they’d lost their daughter—as well as Sarah, a divorced mother of three. None of her children were school-aged yet, she didn’t think. Why was she here?

  This couldn’t be it. Surely. From the way Merille had made it sound, there had to be more families involved.

  “Is this not enough?” Trevor growled.

  Jenn couldn’t help herself from taking a step back in response. Merille and Trevor were best friends with Frank and Julie. Frank was a truck driver, just like Trevor. Which meant he was rarely home. She’d never had much interaction with Julie, so she wasn’t sure what she was like, but from how she stood there, timid and unwilling to even smile at her, Jenn doubted her voice would be powerful enough to accomplish anything. Which meant this group was being led by Trevor and Frank, two bullies who preferred threats and domination to logical thinking.

  Seeing them standing there left a sour taste in Jenn’s mouth. She shook her head at Merille. “Sorry, I thought . . . I expected . . . not this.” She turned to leave, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

  “Give us a chance, please? We need you.”

  “We don’t need her. We’re doing fine on our own. That whore will leave town soon enough and—”

  “Excuse me?” Jenn couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re the one defacing Julia’s home?”

  Trevor shrugged, but she caught the smug look on his face. “She’s not welcome here.”

  “That doesn’t give you the right to be a bully.”

  “You’re defending her?” Trevor stood right in front of her, his chest puffed out and his face inches from her own.

  “So what, you’re going to start bullying me now?” She turned to look down the beach to where Robert waited for her. What was she doing here?

  “You gonna call for your hubby to beat me up?” Trevor snorted before he turned his back on her.

  So she was dismissed?

  “Stop it, please. Trevor, this isn’t helping. We need Jennifer to be on our side. We need her help,” Merille spoke up. Jenn read the hope and desperation in Merille’s face, but she knew she wasn’t the answer.

  “I don’t think you need me, not for this. If you were serious about doing something in regard to the school . . . then maybe. But I’m not going to be part of some bullying tactic. Stillwater doesn’t need a vengeance committee.”

  “This isn’t about vengeance.”

  Jenn heard the desperation in Merille’s voice.

  “I think it is.”

  “No. You know what the issue here is?” Trevor jerked Merille away from her. “You’re just too sissy to stand up to your mayor friend and husband, aren’t you?” Trevor spat in the sand.

  Angry words formed on Jenn’s tongue, but she swallowed them. The anger within this group was viral, she could feel it. And she didn’t need to surround herself with it. Not when she had her own anger and grief to deal with.

  “No, Trevor, I’m not. But our grief shouldn’t dictate what happens in this town.” She couldn’t believe those words came out of her mouth.

  She backed away from the group and made her way to the shack for the coffee she’d promised Robert and Shelley. She thought about the very strange moment back there and tried to wrap her head around it.

  First, it wasn’t what she had expected at all. She knew the support group that met at the church was quite large. Not only were the families of the twelve victims encouraged to come, but so were their friends, coworkers, teachers . . . basically anyone who needed help to process the horrific acts. When Merille had said there was a group, she naively assumed that meant most of those who attended the support group. Had even gotten her hopes up that maybe she wasn’t just speaking from grief and anger but from a logical viewpoint.

  She should have known better.

  While she placed her order and waited for the hot drinks, Jenn took in her surroundings. It had only been a month since the shooting, since the lives of ten children and two teachers were taken. She never expected to be alone in her turmoil, and yet, there were children all around her, playing on the beach, on the swings and slides and jungle gyms . . . and they were all happy. Their laughter joined in with the cries of the seagulls hoping for some free food until it became a cacophony of noise.

  If she were to compare those children to herself . . . she knew she’d come up short. She had to remind herself all the time to live in the moment. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d laughed, really laughed, with happiness. If she were being honest, she would admit she wasn’t sure if she would ever laugh again. The grief was still too heavy, too fresh, in her mind.

  She noticed Trevor and Frank’s small group had disbanded and were heading her way. She reached for her beverages that were now ready and placed them in a Styrofoam tray. She managed to catch Merille’s gaze before they passed her. The woman’s eyes were dulled, her gaze distant, as if she saw through Jenn without really noticing her.

  She understood Merille’s pain. Recognized the emotional numbness in her gaze. And it scared her.
>
  She didn’t want to be like that. It wasn’t what Bobby would want. It wasn’t what Charity needed.

  It also wasn’t who Jenn wanted to be. This realization awoke something inside of her. Something that she’d long since buried and didn’t believe was possible.

  Hope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHARLOTTE

  Charlotte waved to Ellie and Lauren as they left with a new teddy bear clutched tight in Ellie’s arms. They’d arrived late, but Lauren looked a little better this morning, so hopefully that meant she’d gotten plenty of rest yesterday. Ellie had given Charlotte a long hug and thanked her for the bestest day ever before leaving.

  The beach was filling up with booths and copious amounts of children and balloons. She bent down and scooped out the edges of a blanket buried in the sand and began the process of shaking the blanket, careful to stand behind it so the wind didn’t blow all the sand back at her.

  “That went well.” Jordan stood beside her and attached Buster’s leash to his collar.

  “Surprisingly.”

  Jordan nudged her playfully. “You were great with the kids. I bet you got more hugs from them than the other girls did.”

  “That’s because I was the one handing out free teddy bears.” She tossed the blanket to Jordan and waved good-bye to Charity and Amanda as they headed down the beach.

  Their help today had saved the Teddy Bear Picnic from becoming a disaster. While Charlotte had felt overwhelmed, the girls took it all in stride, able to change up the schedule to keep all the kids under control, even to the point of creating new games that the kids seemed to love.

  “Oh, to have the energy of a teenager back again,” Jordan sighed. He placed the blanket in a large plastic bag they’d brought with them and then stretched, his arms raised high above his head. “I could go for a nap right about now.”

  “We don’t have time for naps, not today. Help me load all this up in the shed over there, and then we can walk down the pathway and see how things are going.” She pointed to the shed that was reserved for these events. They kept almost everything in there, from dry snacks and juice boxes to extra teddy bears, games, and blankets . . . anything to help them with the summer activities planned by the town.

  The first booth they stopped at was the welcome booth, set up at the crossroads of where all the pathways met. Prime location since everyone would walk by it.

  Shelley offered a platter of minimuffins to them as they approached.

  “These look delicious,” Charlotte said. She winked at Shelley, who smiled back. When Charlotte had stopped by the bed-and-breakfast to pick up Ellie, she’d sampled some of these muffins, baked that morning by all the girls who’d stayed for the sleepover.

  “This is the best welcome present a man could get,” Jordan said as he took a muffin and popped it in his mouth.

  Shelley pointed to the Tupperware containers of muffins at her feet. “I hope others feel the same way, otherwise you’ll need to come by later and take the extras home.”

  Jordan eyed the containers and rubbed his hands together. “I promise to spread the word about how”—he coughed and covered his mouth—“disgusting these muffins are.” He winked at Shelley before plopping another muffin into his mouth.

  “Have you seen Jenn and Robert?” Charlotte had noticed them earlier.

  “They went down the pathway. Robert mentioned something about seeing if others needed a hand putting their booths together and Jenn went with him.”

  “She’s not manning the booth today?” This surprised Charlotte.

  Shelley shook her head. “No. I offered to take care of it this year.”

  Shelley offered the platter to others who walked by, giving them a smile as it was evident they didn’t want to stop. Charlotte thought about how Jenn would have stopped them anyway and asked them questions to make them feel welcome. Her presence at the booth would be missed by those out-of-town guests returning for the fair.

  “Did you know about the ceremony for this afternoon?” Shelley asked.

  “What ceremony?” There were no scheduled events at the fair.

  Shelley pinched her lips but couldn’t help the smile from growing on her face. She grabbed a flyer off the booth’s table and handed it to them.

  “I knew it was a secret, but I wasn’t sure if anyone had mentioned it to you today or not. Wouldn’t want you to miss it, considering you’re the guests of honor.”

  “Guests of . . . what are you talking about?” Charlotte read the sheet that was in Jordan’s hands. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. A special ceremony to honor the victims of the Stillwater Public School shooting and the heroes of Stillwater Bay.

  “Heroes?” Jordan’s voice caught as he read the word out loud. “What heroes?” His hands shook as he held the paper tight in his grasp.

  “Why, you two, of course.”

  Jordan’s face blanched. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

  “Jordan?” Charlotte touched his icy cold hands, concerned.

  He cleared his throat and thrust the paper at Charlotte. “I wish they wouldn’t do that. I really wish . . . I have to go. Excuse me for a moment.”

  Befuddled, Charlotte stood there and watched her husband jog toward the beach bathrooms, but instead of going into the men’s area, he disappeared around the corner to where the cottage homes were located.

  “Is he okay?” Shelley asked.

  Charlotte shook her head. She had no idea. Anytime anyone attempted to praise Jordan for how he’d handled the school shooting, he seemed to get cold and distant before he tried to focus the attention on others who had helped as well. Charlotte thought he was just being modest. But now . . . now she was worried.

  Jordan really hadn’t gone for any type of counseling, not on his own. Maybe he needed to. Had something happened she didn’t know about? Was there more to the story than what he’d told her?

  “I’m sure he’s fine. He doesn’t really like when the attention is on him.” Charlotte stared off and tried to figure out where he would have gone.

  “Which is why no one wanted to say anything. We all know how he feels, and yet, we need to do this. As a community. I hope you’ll let us.” Shelley gave a light tap to Charlotte’s arm before she turned and offered her tray of muffins to more passersby.

  There were only a few places Jordan would go in this area, but Charlotte couldn’t think of one good reason why he would go to any of them. Not today and not right now. But she followed after him, smiling in greeting to those she passed along the way, the flyer still clutched tight in her hand.

  She didn’t mind that the town wanted to do this. It was nice of them. And she had a feeling, from what was on the flyer, that it was more about remembering as a community rather than focusing on Jordan or even herself. Besides, others in this small town had also stepped up to help carry the load. No doubt they would be honored as well. So why was Jordan so spooked?

  She rounded the corner of the bathroom stalls, but there was still no sign of Jordan so she continued on, following the path that circled to the back of the cottages.

  The area was empty and quiet. Each cottage had a hedge for shelter and privacy, so she couldn’t see inside. Jordan had either continued down this path or stopped in at Julia’s, but that didn’t make sense if he had. He’d expressed no interest in helping Julia out personally. He backed her on this crusade to remind the community that Julia was more than just the killer’s mother, but he’d already told her not to expect much else from him.

  Which is why, when she saw the top of his head over the hedge leading into Julia’s backyard, she was surprised.

  “Jordan?” Charlotte pushed open the unlocked gate.

  Crying, Julia sat there, on one of her chairs with her feet propped up on the small table. Jordan stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder, but she couldn
’t see his face.

  “Charlotte, I . . .” Jordan gazed at her, helpless, and she knew he’d been crying as well.

  For some reason, she couldn’t move. It’s not that she didn’t want to but that she couldn’t. There was something more here, something more than just a man finding a woman crying.

  So she forced her legs to move, turn around, and walk back the way she’d come. She heard her name being called but ignored it, afraid to listen to anything Jordan would say.

  Why was he there? It’s possible he ran into Julia, right? Maybe she was standing outside, away from her backyard, tempted to join in on the festivities, but couldn’t. Maybe Jordan had said something that affected her or both of them.

  So many thoughts ran through her head, so many ideas, scenarios. All she needed to do was stop and listen to him, but she was too scared. Why?

  He caught up with her and grabbed for her arm. She stopped but waited for him to speak first.

  “I’m sorry I ran.”

  “Why?”

  When he didn’t say anything, she turned and faced him. “Why, Jordan? Why did you run? It’s a small ceremony, not even focused on us. Why?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and looked beyond her. “I don’t know.”

  Like she believed that.

  “Looks like we won’t be able to go for a drive after all. If you need to head back to the house, go ahead. I’ll just walk around town and visit with people. Do my rounds.”

  “What about Julia?” There was desperation in his red-rimmed eyes.

  “What about her?”

  This seemed to take Jordan off guard. “I thought . . . I just thought you’d want to be with her, spend time with her. Maybe coax her out of her home for a bit?”

  She shook her head. That would be the last thing she’d want to do today of all days. Not when her town was full of tourists. When Julia finally felt safe enough to leave her home, it would be on a quiet day, when she could walk down to her shop and not be worried about having eggs thrown at her.

  “Why were you in her backyard?”