Hope Unbroken (Unveiled Series Book 3) (11 page)

chapter sixteen

Grace

After stopping for stitches and a rabies shot, we made it back to the Preston’s in time to see the cops pulling away. Inside, a welcome and natural sound filled their small dining room—the sound of a family.

Something had changed. His dad sat with us for hours, quiet but at ease. I didn’t mean to stare. Was he really the same man I’d met a few weeks ago?

He leaned against the table as he rose and extended an all-encompassing goodnight to the rest of us. Jasmine bounced on Mrs. Preston’s lap as if she hadn’t been in any danger that evening whatsoever.

Riley and I exchanged a glance across the table, both shaking our heads.

A gradual silence hushed over the room. I followed Mrs. Preston’s gaze toward the hollow doorway where Melody slumped into the frame. She removed her earphones, one at a time. She looked younger somehow, more tender.

Mrs. Preston scooted Jasmine off her lap. “C’mon, sweetie. I think it’s about time we get you in bed.”

“But, Mom—”

“Come on, now. Off you go.” She hurried her out of the room, the old Lab hobbling after them.

They disappeared down the hallway. One look between Riley and Melody made it clear I should’ve followed.

Melody stepped forward at the same time Riley and I both rose from the table.

I stopped halfway out of my chair. If shrinking under the table wouldn’t have brought even more attention to myself, I probably would’ve done it. I sank back into my seat. Maybe they’d pretend I wasn’t there.

Melody fidgeted with her earphones and glanced intermittently between Riley and her feet. The quiet house accentuated every tiny noise until she finally spoke. “You left us.”

His chin drooped to his chest. “I know. Mel, I—”

“It’s cool to call me Melody.” The slightest smile touched her voice. “I sort of miss hearing you say it.”

Repentance tore down his face as he reached her side.

I twisted the bottom of the tablecloth, wringing back the emotion.

“I’m sorry, Melody.”

Still dawdling in the doorway, she lowered her gaze. “Just don’t ever do it again, okay?”

He laughed softly. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated in a way that settled things.

It had to have been the most awkward and understated reconciliation I’d ever seen, but Melody had done it in her own way. And that’d made it even more sincere.

She dragged her socks across the hardwood floor on her way down the hall.

There were so many things I wanted to say, but I simply smiled at Riley. Anything left unsaid could wait until morning.

He led me to his bedroom door and kissed my cheek.

I grabbed his hand. “Let me take the couch tonight. You’re injured.”

“Injured?” His grin tipped sideways. “You make it sound like I was in a car wreck or something.”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot having a wrestling match with a wolf fits in the no-big-deal category.”

He laughed. “It’s nothing, I promise. I’ll be fine.”

And people called me stubborn. My fist gravitated to my hip.

He mirrored my pose and angled his head at me. “If my mom wakes up to find you on the couch,
then
I might seriously be injured.”

“Way to play the Mom-card.”
Cheater.
“Fine. But I’m driving tomorrow.”

He drew me close. “Deal.”

With another kiss goodnight, I left Riley in the hall, groped my way through the cluttered room, and climbed into his old twin-sized bed. I wouldn’t have any trouble falling asleep this time. The combination of emotional and physical exhaustion was bound to create the perfect tonic for a dreamless sleep.

Sunshine climbed across the floor, pooled over the wrinkled covers, and landed on the nightstand at the same moment the alarm clock sounded its obnoxious wake-up call. I swatted the stupid thing, hoping to hit the right button before I woke up the entire house.

Riley and I needed to have words about his leave-at-the-crack-of-dawn plan. I appreciated his wanting to get me back with plenty of time to prep for the start of the semester. Still, I wasn’t sure being a zombie would help matters.

I grabbed the towel Mrs. Preston had left for me on a shoulder-high stack of cardboard boxes at the foot of the bed and crept into the hall. The light from under the bathroom door cast a solid beam down the floor from one end of the dark hallway to the other. Riley must’ve beaten me to the shower. I hung my towel on the handle and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water while I waited.

It took less than two steps into the dining room for the aroma of baking bread to lure my body the rest of the way without any prompting.

No surprise, Mrs. Preston was stirring in the kitchen already. If the fresh powder residue on the front of her apron were any indication, she’d been up for some time.

“Good morning.” She hovered over an open cookbook. “Can I get you something to drink, dear? I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee?”

“Oh, um, water’s fine, please. Thank you.”

She straightened and stared at me over a narrow pair of reading glasses like I’d spoken in a foreign language. She flittered over to the refrigerator, poured a glass of orange juice instead, and handed it to me.

She refilled her coffee mug. “I know Riley’s bent on leaving early this morning, but you can’t go without having a decent breakfast first.”

It didn’t matter how short of a time I’d known her. I’d seen that same determined look a thousand times from her son. The invitation to breakfast wasn’t negotiable.

She motioned for me to have a seat at the small kitchen table in the corner.

I drew one leg onto a chair cushion covered in a decorative rooster pattern and rubbed the dog’s back with my other foot. She joined me a minute later. I swirled my cup and watched the pulp circle along top.

Mrs. Preston consumed her coffee with almost as much reverence as Jaycee did. No wonder she’d looked at me like I was crazy when I’d passed on her coffee offer.

“Thanks for coming yesterday. If Riley hadn’t gotten there in time . . .” She toyed with the corner of her glasses. “I don’t know what that girl was thinking. Leave it to Jasmine to be theatrical in making a point.” Her smile betrayed her tone of reprimand. “She’s always been our scare-child. Gave us quite a good one a couple years ago. Ended up in the hospital with insulin shock.”

I’d forgotten Riley mentioned she was diabetic. “How did you know where to find her?”

“Melody.” She set her coffee on the placemat. “She finally remembered overhearing Jasmine refer to that park as some kind of secret hideout.” She stared at the wall beside me, probably reliving memories she’d rather erase. “I’m so thankful Riley thought to search there too.” She traced her finger along her mug handle.

“I’d say he’s just as lucky you got there when you did. That wolf . . .” I shuddered at the possibility of how much more damage he could’ve done.

She grinned. “Oh, I think Riley might’ve given him a run for his money. My boy has a lot of fight in him.”

“So I’m learning.” Getting to see new dimensions of Riley’s personality reminded me of the way Dad used to refer to love—a journey of exploration.

That journey would lead us to marriage, wouldn’t it? “Mrs. Preston?” I cleared my throat, searched for my voice. “Riley and I haven’t finalized our wedding plans, but it would mean so much to us both if Mr. Preston would be there.”

I ran my fingers up and down the outside of my glass. “Actually, it’s more than just wanting him there. Do you think . . . I mean, I know Riley and his dad still have stuff to work through, and he has some reservations about us getting married, but do you think he’ll give us his blessing?” I’d be surprised if she heard the last five words. The weight of what they meant nearly crushed the sound of my voice altogether.

A smile curved around the brim of her coffee mug. No guessing whom Riley had inherited his eyes of assurance from.

Her expression turned wistful as she straightened the wire napkin holder in the center of the table. “We were just kids when we got married. I was only nineteen. Jonathan was full of dreams. I would’ve followed him anywhere.
Did
follow him anywhere.” She laughed before taking another lengthy drink. Steam rose from the mug and fogged her glasses.

“Life’s been hard on him, Emma. Riley thinks he understands, but he doesn’t know the extent Jonathan’s disappointments reach. He was always such a private man. Sometimes too private. I’m afraid he didn’t let Riley into some of the places of his heart he should’ve.”

“Is it too late?”

She abandoned her mug long enough to set an affirming hand over mine. “It’s never too late, dear.”

Would that same grace extend to Riley’s career? If he wouldn’t listen to me, maybe he’d respond to his mom. I twisted my hair over my shoulder. “Would you talk to Riley about touring? Try to help him see what he’s sacrificing?”

She sat back. “Have I mentioned my son’s stubborn like his father?”

It had to be worth a try.

Riley appeared in the doorway and stumbled over to the oven in the same sweet-aroma-driven trance I had earlier. “I see you didn’t listen to me, Mom,” he mumbled with a mouthful of warm bread.

“I see you’re disappointed.” Mrs. Preston’s grin was just as wry as his.

I downed the rest of my orange juice to keep from laughing. The more time I spent with her, the more she captured my heart. Same with the rest of his family.

Riley opened the fridge. “Just one six pack?”

“Your dad doesn’t drink like he used to.” She squeezed my hand on her way up from her seat and started serving Riley a homemade meal before he sat down. “Not everything’s the same, dear.”

Sure hoped that was true.

I kissed his cheek and headed for the bathroom.

A shower might’ve tamed my hair, but traces of my conversation with Mrs. Preston kept my insides in a jumbled mess. Or maybe it was knowing I had to say goodbye to a family I already felt a part of.

The Prestons formed a half-circle around us in front of the Civic. Mrs. Preston turned from Riley to me. “Take care of my boy.” Without the slightest hesitation, she closed me in a hug I hated to release. She leaned back and held my arms a minute longer, a heartwarming smile barely restraining the beginning of tears.

Riley drew her tight. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll visit again soon.”

I tucked my hands in my pockets and lowered my chin at the sight of Mr. Preston stepping forward. A few hours of being at ease with him last night wasn’t enough to know where he stood. I stared at the decorative pavement, stalling. As if the awkwardness couldn’t get any worse, he extended a hand toward me in a delayed reaction.

I shook it and matched his silence with a tentative smile.

“Finish strong,” he said.

School was the furthest thing from my mind right then. I thought he disapproved of my field of study, but there was no mistaking the encouragement in his charge.

He turned to his son. I bit my lip, hopeful and terrified at the same time. I was so focused on hearing the words about to leave his mouth, I didn’t even see Jasmine coming. Engulfed by two short arms winding around my waist, I staggered backward.

“I miss you already,” Jasmine said with a sniffle.

Forcing down the lump in my throat, I unwound myself from her hug and grabbed both her hands. “You have a very busy few months ahead of you.”

She tilted her head to one side. I leaned in closer to disclose her covert assignment. “Just think of all the stores you’ll have to visit until you find the perfect flower girl dress.”

Her eyes lit up with the thrill of a newly acquired mission.

I turned just in time to see Mr. Preston releasing Riley’s hand. I’d missed what they’d said to each other, but the looks on their faces made it clear words weren’t needed.

Riley strung his arms across my shoulders. “Ready?”

“Wait!”

Everyone in the driveway spun toward a sleep-tousled version of Melody, yelling from the front door. She hustled down the driveway and ran straight into Riley’s arms. “You’re coming back, right? I mean, sometime soon?”

“I promised, remember?” Riley hugged her in a final seal of his word.

She caught my gaze.

And I thought saying goodbye to Mr. Preston was awkward?

Not that I could blame her for slanting me a wary stare. I probably would’ve done the same if it were Austin. She had a gentle side under her cover, though. You just had to know how to find it.

“Maybe we can talk sometime.” I tore out a slip of paper from inside my purse and jotted down my cell number and email address. “I need some help picking out music for the wedding.”

“Really?” she said, struggling to keep her tone dry.

“Yeah, definitely. You can email me some of your ideas.”

Melody glanced around our small circle before looking back at me. “Cool.”

The genuine smile that followed might not have meant we were officially best friends, but I’d take what I could get.