Love in Riverbend

Chapter 2

Kandace

Six years ago

“Damn," Chloe, my best friend, whispers, “Dax sure knows how to fill out a suit."

I look over, seeing Dax Richards sitting with his parents and grandma in the front pew. My best friend is right about the way he fills out his suit. And while I know from experience how sexy he is beneath the suit, I can't help but concentrate on the sadness in his expression. It makes me want to go to him, to hold him, and give him a reason to smile.

It's been two years since I gave Dax my virginity. According to him, he'd given me the same gift. And yet we are what people might call friends-with-benefits. Geographically, we are only together during his visits to Riverbend and my few visits to IU. Although he'd tried to convince me to attend the large university, it only took me a couple of visits to realize that life on a big campus with a population five times that of our town isn't for me.

Occasionally, he and I text and call one another, but neither of us has made a commitment. That doesn't mean I want to be with anyone else. It means I know that while my body and heart became his even before our first time, my mind has come to grips that there will never be a future for us.

We both have one more year of undergraduate. While my plans include Riverbend, Daxton Richards has already been accepted to Indiana Law for a double master's degree in law and business. His plans are to follow in his parents' success. His mother is partner at a big law firm in Chicago, and his dad is a CFO of some gaming company that is doing very well. The days and nights of Dax in Riverbend are about to be history. The reason he is here now is further proof.

The minister completes the eulogy for John Richards, Dax's grandfather, and asks us to bow our heads in prayer. With my chin down, my eyes stay fixed on Dax. Maybe it is because he thought no one would see or was watching, but during the prayer he wipes a tear from his cheek. His father sits on one side of Ruth, Dax's grandmother, and Dax is sitting on the other.

While I don't know his parents well, everyone in town loves his grandparents. They own a shop on Main Street called Quintessential Treasures. While finishing my classes, I'm working part time with his grandparents—now only Ruth.

After the service at the cemetery, we all go back to the church for a dinner in the basement. The large dining hall is filled with long tables and chairs. All of the ladies in town contributed to the potluck. By the time my parents, Chloe, and I get down to the hall, it appears there is enough food to feed all of Riverbend.

“Kandace," Ruth calls, lifting her hand when she sees me.

My throat clogs and tears prick my eyes as I go to her. Even though she has to be in her seventies, Ruth is spry and full of energy. “I'm so sorry, Ruth," I say.

She lifts her chin. “I had over fifty years with the love of my life. One day, we'll be together through eternity. I know I'll miss him every day, but I also know my Jack. He doesn't want me sad. For him, I'll smile until we meet again."

I don't understand how Jack is a nickname for John, but it is.

I wrap my arms around Ruth's slender shoulders. “If you need anything."

The church's dining hall is filling up as more and more people arrive. As I hug Ruth, Dax steps closer.

Ruth reaches for my hand and Dax's. She turns to her grandson, looking up at him with love and pride. “Did you know that Kandace is working for me?"

His sad golden eyes meet mine. “Thanks for helping Grandma."

“I like the store."

Ruth puts our hands together. “You two catch up, and remember, Jack doesn't want tears. He wants you to remember him with a smile."

Dax takes my hand and walks with me to the wall away from the food lines that are forming on both sides of a long buffet. When he looks down at me, I see the sadness Ruth said her husband wouldn't want.

“Do you want some food?" I ask, looking at the gathering people.

He shakes his head. “I'd like to get out of here."

“Will your parents mind?"

“How about a drink?"

There are only a few drinking establishments in Riverbend—Bob's and Decoy Ducks. “Unless you want to get out of town, you're going to get the same condolences there as here."

“How about a walk?" he says.

Without a word, we climb the back steps of the church like salmon swimming upstream. Dax nods as each person offers condolences. Once at the top of the concrete stairs, we open the door to the parking lot. The late summer sky is filled with shades of gray. The trees sway in the strong breeze as if even nature is mourning John's passing. Dax lifts his chin to the sky and closes his eyes.

I can't take it any longer. I reach for his arm. “I want to help."

He takes my hand and begins to walk. His grip is strong and tight, filled with determination. I'm not certain where we're going as my heeled shoes click on the concrete in time with Dax's steps, and the dress I wore to the funeral blows in the breeze. For the first few minutes, we walk without talking. It's as if our connection is Dax's lifeline. His hold of my hand is stopping him from flying away.

We pass few people as we walk past the bank and post office and head north of town.

The sidewalk ends as we continue along the gravel edge of the street. At our sides, the corn stalks are taller than Dax, and the mature ears are large with white hair, indicating that harvest will be soon. As Dax leads me down a path we've taken many times, I know our destination.

The fact that I am walking in heels and a dress through a forest doesn't register as much as the man at my side. He's grown more handsome every year. His chiseled jaw is tight and his eyes, the golden color of winter wheat, stare straight ahead as we continue walking. Soon the trees open to a grassy bank at the edge of a pond.

When we were kids, we swam in the murky water to an island in the center. Due to its size, the pond would warm early in the swimming season. As we approach it, I recall the mucky bottom. The island is now overgrown with grass, bushes, and trees.

Letting go of my hand, Dax looks up at the clouds. “Do you want to know what I told my grandpa the last time we spoke?"

The pain in his deep voice made my chest hurt. “Dax, John knew you loved him."

“I told him I couldn't come here this summer."

He hadn't.

It is the first summer without Dax here…until now.

“You have your internship," I say. “He understood."

Dax shakes his head and stuffs his hands deep into his pant pockets. “I said I'd come later and now, there's no later."

“He told everyone that you had a summer job at a big brewery in Indianapolis." I grin. “He said you'd be bringing him craft beer."

Dax exhales and sits on the grass in his suit. When his golden eyes meet mine, they are moist with unshed tears. “I can never talk to him again."

Sitting beside him, I tuck my dress around my knees and lay my hand on his arm. “Ruth is still here."

“My dad sucks as a son."

I snicker. “I guess as long as he's a good dad..."

“Yeah, he missed that boat too. I used to hate leaving home every summer." He turns and cups my cheek. “And then I hated leaving here, leaving you."

As I feel the warmth of his touch, the lump returns to my throat.

“I also thought," he goes on, “that by visiting my grandparents, I was stepping in where dad didn't." He lets go of my face and turns his attention toward the pond.

“My mom told me something." I hug my knees and look out at the waves on the water. “She said that if I decide to leave Riverbend, she'll never stop loving me. She said that parents need to give their kids two things—roots and wings." I turn to Dax. “John and Ruth gave that to your dad. He chose wings."

“They gave that to me too, I guess—the roots part anyway." He turns to me. “Why don't you date?"

“I date," I say with a shrug.

“Oh, you never mention it."

There isn't anything to mention. No one else who matters.

“What about you?" I ask.

“I date."

Nodding, I take off my shoes and wiggle my toes in the long grass. “I could say I've never met anyone to be serious with, but that wouldn't be completely true."

“Whoever he is, I bet Justin wants to kick his ass."

I grin at the reference to my older and protective brother. “Nah, he likes you."

Dax reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips. “Come to Indy with me next year. You'll have your degree. You can work or take more classes. The city offers more options."

“My dad…" I take a ragged breath.

“What?" The sadness in Dax's expression is replaced with concern.

“He suffered a mild heart attack last June."

“Christ, Kandace, you never told me."

“What were you going to do? Come down here and hold my hand at the hospital?"

“Yeah." He squeezes my hand in his. “I could do that."

“I don't want to move that far away."

“Justin is here now."

“And he's helping Dad with the farm."

“What do you want," he asks. “If you could write a book about your future, what would it say?"

I gave his question some thought. “You know the stuff your grandparents—grandma sells in Quintessential Treasures?"

“Mostly junk."

“No, it's not," I say, my voice taking on a new tone. “It's all made by local producers. Small towns like ours have trouble surviving. I want to help Riverbend survive. I don't want it to be another Indy or Evansville. I want to help people here make a living doing what they want to do. I had this project for a class." I can't stop talking. “I had to draft a business proposal. I used Quintessential Treasures as the model, but I brought it into the future: online sales, mass marketing. I added other products, things that could be manufactured right here."

As I speak, the wind picks up.

“I know you can do whatever you set your mind to do." Dax stands as thunder rumbles in the distance. Offering me his hand, he says, “We need to find a place to wait out the storm."

I'm not certain if he means the literal storm or what is happening back at the church and later at his grandmother's home. It doesn't matter. I will take his hand and wait out whatever storm he wants.

“Gordon's farm is over that ridge," he says.

I pick up my shoes and grin. “I can beat you to the hayloft."