Dream Lover. Stacey Keith
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of her hand. She took a hasty swallow and then set it down on a side table.
All she’d thought about on the way back from that disastrous home visit was the searing heat in Brandon’s eyes, the sensation of falling she’d had when he stood in front of her.
If she weren’t such a failure, she’d be thinking of ways to get Matthew back in school. It was her job as a caseworker to serve and protect. Instead, her body wasn’t even hers anymore. Her stomach couldn’t find gravity. She was burning up inside. Her blood had shunted to areas of her body that she’d always kept in cold storage.
There were reasons—sound, practical reasons—she didn’t allow herself to feel things. She knew better. She knew where those kinds of feelings led—despair, unintended pregnancies and ruined lives. Every case file on her desk held dark reminders of why you couldn’t let yourself go there. Failure or not, she wasn’t about to do that. Not now. Not for some muscle-bound motorcycle-riding bad boy who wasn’t even her type.
If she had one. Which she totally didn’t.
Grabbing her glass, she went back into the house, determined to shake this thing off, whatever it was. A flat of summer petunias sat on her kitchen counter, ready for planting. They were an impulse purchase from Strom Mart, six for five dollars. April never could resist a bargain.
Finding a place for them might lift her spirits. She stood on the back steps and surveyed the yard. After six months, Cassidy’s old ten-speed still leaned against the garden shed. A marble bird bath April had found at a yard sale and dragged home in the back of her Jetta stood in the center of the yard. The thing weighed a ton, but she’d managed to get it here by herself. It proved that she didn’t need a man around the house. For anything.
She found a bag of potting soil and a terracotta pot and then sat on the back steps to replant the petunias. She gently loosened the white veiny roots, snugged them into a hole she dug with her bare fingers and then packed loose soil around the root ball.
Everyone said she was good at her job. She helped, changed lives, made a difference. So why did she feel as though her life were spinning out of control?
A car pulled up the driveway. It was Jacey Mulkowski, her best friend since third grade and probably the only person who could put a smile on her face right now.
April stood, wiping dirt from her hands and squinting into the late afternoon sun.
Jacey was a self-described high-functioning deafie. Cochlear implants had restored around fifty percent of her hearing. For the rest she used a combination of American Sign Language and lip reading. Still, April waited until Jacey was in front of her before asking, “What are you doing here?”
Jacey wore a wrap dress that looked suspiciously fancy for a drive by. Her black hair was pulled into a sleek sophisticated ponytail that brought out her exotic amber eyes and model-worthy cheekbones. When she crossed her arms, a pink pom-pom swung from her keychain. “April, I swear to God if you’re bailing on this thing, I’m going to kill you.”
“What thing?” April racked her brain trying to remember. Whatever it was, Jacey obviously wasn’t going to let her weasel out of it. Like most shy people, April tended to commit to social engagements she never wanted to go to.
“My sister’s bachelorette party?” Jacey said. “At the Double Aces? Is any of this ringing a bell?”
April slapped one hand over her mouth. “I remembered last week when I went shopping. Does that count? I bought Tessa a whole bunch of cool stuff. I even wrapped it.”
Jacey did the open b-handshape, flipped out under her chin like a boat rudder. It meant “So what?” Jacey had taught her a lot of sign language over the years. They used to sign to each other in class.
“I don’t care that you bought stuff,” Jacey said, marching her into the house. “You’re going and that’s final.”
In the kitchen, April wheeled around and said, “I’ve had a really bad day and—”
“Don’t care. Get in the shower while I find something indecent for you to wear.”
April trudged into the bathroom and made a face at Jacey before closing the door. She shed her work clothes and stuffed them inside the hamper. Dread made her limbs feel leaden. She didn’t want to go to Tessa’s bachelorette party. She wanted to stay home and brood.
After her shower, April stood dutifully in front of Jacey, bathrobe belted and hair wrapped in a towel.
“I can’t decide between the denim miniskirt and the sundress,” Jacey said, holding one and then the other against April.
“Do I get a vote?” April asked. Maybe clown shoes and a barrel with straps?
“Absolutely not. This gingham thing makes you look like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. But if I shame you into wearing the miniskirt, you’re just going to bitch about it all night.”
“Why can’t I—”
“Because your mother thinks you can’t dress yourself properly and she made me promise to help,” Jacey said.
April snatched the pink gingham sundress and marched into the bathroom to put it on. Now that her mother had married off two of her daughters, she clearly had her sights set on getting her youngest one settled, too. April put on the dress, a hand-me-down from Cassidy that showed an uncomfortable amount of cleavage, and then blow dried her hair. Just as she was about to pin it up, Jacey yelled from the bedroom, “Keep your hair down. And put on a little bit of makeup, will you?”
On the way over to Tessa’s bachelorette party, April wondered if everybody knew as many bossy people as she did. Jacey prattled on about some hot guy from the shipping warehouse where she worked. Her voice had a little of the nasal monotone that “hearies” called deaf accent, but her words were clear and it had never kept her from attracting men. Not with her outrageous beauty. And bossy or not, Jacey was the closest thing to a sister April had to hang out with.
“Why are you so quiet today?” Jacey asked when they came to the first of Cuervo’s two stoplights. “Usually I can’t get you to shut up about work.”
April shrugged. “There’s not a lot to tell.”
“I doubt that.”
Jacey pulled up in front of the Double Aces and parked the car. “Did you see the new patio?” Jacey asked. “No, of course not, because you never get out.”
In a town the size of Cuervo, everybody’s business was your business, so of course April had heard every excruciating detail about the new patio. She grabbed an armful of presents out of Jacey’s trunk and then waited while Jacey slammed the lid and locked it.
“You think I don’t know things, but I do,” April told her. “I’m not completely hopeless, you know.”
Jacey gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, then talk to a boy tonight and make me and your mother happy.”
Talk to a boy. Annoyed, April followed Jacey to the patio, where Tessa sat at a long table with half a dozen girls they’d all grown up with. There was Erica Mercer, who’d been homecoming queen, head cheerleader, yearbook editor and president of the French club. Susan and Patricia were both solid, respectable girls who didn’t glare at April when she sat down, but Roxanne did. Roxanne had long dark hair, perfect skin, and the kind of figure April saw in swimsuit catalogs. She’d never been all that friendly.
“Beer?” Roxanne asked with an imitation smile.
As the designated driver, April ordered a root beer instead and wondered if that was why Roxanne hated her. Maybe Roxanne figured she had a giant stick up her butt.
“I saw your mother in line at the post office,” Roxanne said. “All she could talk about were your sisters. You know—how Cassidy married America’s favorite quarterback and Maggie snagged a billionaire.” She gave April a pitying smile. “At least she has you now. You’ll always be here, won’t you? Working at county