“They definitely don’t get away with a lot, but the school is feeling her absence—and mine the last couple of days.”
“Is that why Weeping Willow is outside?” she asked.
“Who?” He looked at the door and then nodded his head once. “Oh, yes. Allison usually handles her,” he said with a sigh.
“Ah. That explains the tears. I told her not to bother since you have two daughters.” She winked and smiled.
He chuckled, which was her objective. He looked stressed and worn down. The worry of the last week had taken its toll on him.
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the edge of his desk. “Dad, would it be better for you and Mom if Michael and I postponed the wedding? It’s a lot of travel and stress on top of this last week.”
“What? No, of course not.” He walked around the desk and pulled her up into a hug. “Your mom and I discussed that last night when I suggested she not attend and we Facetime the wedding for her. She almost bit my head off. She was very clear about the fact that even if she had cancer, she would be there to see you get married. So no, you don’t need to move the wedding date.” He held her away by the shoulders. “We’ll both be there.”
She hugged her dad tight before letting go. “Thanks, Dad. Do you mind if I walk around the school a bit?”
“Feeling nostalgic?” he asked.
She shrugged. “A little.”
“Sure. Get a visitor badge from Beth. Don’t want a hall monitor mistaking you for a student.” He winked. “And send Jessica in.”
* * *
It really hadn’t changedthat much. The wall murals were different, but otherwise everything was the same. She found her senior locker and, just for shits and grins, tried the combination. Feeling it catch, she banged on it twice—her trick for opening the stuck lock—and pulled it open.
The stench of old gym socks and rotted lunch hit her and she slammed it shut almost immediately. Apparently, a boy had the locker this year. Shuddering, she continued aimlessly down the hall.
Faint notes drifted from the music hall and she continued in that direction. She’d spent hours in the upper balcony doing homework while Luke had band practice after school. Except for baseball and softball season when they’d both had practice.
The door opened easily and she entered the dimly lit balcony. A few steps in, she stopped and a small gasp escaped when she saw Luke on the stage with his old music teacher.
Why didn’t her dad warn her Luke was here? Had he known? Even if he had, would he have thought to warn her?
She turned slowly to sneak back out when the door she’d entered slammed shut with a loud bang. Cringing, she waited to see if they’d noticed.
“Rowan?” Luke’s voice carried clearly from below.
They’d noticed. She turned back around and walked down a few steps. “Hey. Hey, Mr. Adams.” She waved, keeping most of her attention off Luke. It was impossible not to appreciate how good he looked, though. In a tight gray t-shirt and track pants with a faded Flat Holler High baseball cap, he looked like her Luke.
The thought froze her in place. Not her Luke. Not anymore.
“Hi, Rowan,” Mr. Adams called up. “Here to see your dad?”
“Yes. He forgot his lunch.” Why did she feel like Baby saying she carried a watermelon?
“How’s your mama doin’?” he asked.
“She’s a lot better, thank you. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I heard the music and…I’m gonna go.” She pointed over her shoulder at the door. “Sorry.”
“Rowan, wait!”
She hurried to the door at the sound of Luke’s voice. Yes, she was running. No, she didn’t care that it made her look like a coward. She knew her limits and weaknesses. Double chocolate ganache cake—and her sweet tooth was twinging.
* * *
Luke caughtup Rowan in the middle of the hall after sprinting out of the music room and up the stairs.
“Rowan. Rowan!” He grasped her elbow to slow her power walk. Thankfully, she stopped and turned.
