Chapter 25 - The Future She Left Behind

Katelyn let out a quiet breath when she and Jackson arrived at the tracks. The five-minute ride to their private hideaway and the short walk along the path through the trees had been made in silence. She handed him the bag containing the salsa turkey sandwiches. “I’ll be right back.”

She crept closer to the tracks, stopping at the spot where she’d made the sketch. “This is the view I want.” She drew an X in the dirt with the toe of her sandal.

“Aren’t you going to eat first?” Jackson sat on the ground in front of their tree. She joined him, then took the sandwich and bottle of water he held out to her.

“Thanks.” They ate while they talked about the weather and the latest gossip at the Buy & Bag; then she squished her wrapper into a ball. “My mother-in-law didn’t stop at the garage to ask about an oil change, did she?”

He shook his head.

“I think Shirley’s going to need more time before she accepts that Don and I aren’t reconciling.”

“She warned me away from you.”

Katelyn laughed. “I may have to ask the lawyer to add her name beneath Don’s before I sign the divorce settlement.”

“About the other night. I—”

“It’s coming.” She scrambled to her feet and returned to the spot she’d marked when they’d first arrived.

“Don’t you want your sketch pad?”

She shook her head, staring into the distance at the beacon of light heading her way. When the locomotive drew closer, she shut her eyes and concentrated on the tremors in the ground beneath her feet. The tiny pulses of energy traveled up her calves, along her thighs and into her stomach, where they spread through her chest until her entire body quivered with energy.

The whistle blew and she jumped inside her skin but kept her eyes closed. Her heart pumped in rhythm with the steel wheels clanking against the rails. Years ago she’d stood by these tracks and envisioned herself jumping into an empty boxcar as the train sped by. She’d imagined the faraway places she’d see. The strangers she’d meet.

Her heart banged against her rib cage as the locomotive blew past her. She imagined herself catapulting into the empty boxcar and being whisked off to a solitary place inside herself.

As the freight cars thundered past, blowing her hair around her head, the scent of coal and hot iron filled her lungs. After the final car passed, her snarled hair settled onto her shoulders. The noise of the chugging wheels grew faint and the ground settled. She opened her eyes and found Jackson smiling at her.

“What was all that about?” he asked.

She returned to his side. “That was about this.” She set the sketch on the ground, then took her charcoal pencil out of her pocket and went to work. She’d asked Gary if she could tweak her picture, and he hadn’t objected. “It won’t bother me if you talk.”

“I’d rather watch you draw.”

He was watching her, not the pencil moving across the paper. She didn’t mind. Her creative side had always felt safe in his presence.

“I never loved Don the way a woman should love the man she marries.” It was easy to bare her soul when she focused on her art.

“Why did you stay with him?”

“Guilt. And for the kids’ sake.” The pencil froze against the paper and she stared into space. “And I grew accustomed to his paycheck. The big house. Vacations. New cars.” She worked on shading the inside of the boxcar.

“You aren’t the first woman who’s wanted better and you won’t be the last.”

“I wanted the perfect life.” She set the pencil aside and looked Jackson in the eye. “And the need for perfection carried over to my artwork. I lost confidence in myself, so I made up excuses for not drawing.”

“Because you felt guilty for marrying Don for the wrong reasons, you punished yourself and stayed with him.”

She opened her mouth to deny the charge, but the words jammed up in her throat. “When my father-in-law passed away and Shirley moved in with us, I tried harder to ignore my unhappiness. I focused on the kids and their school activities, college visits and proms. But the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach never went away.” She pressed her hand against her midriff. “It took Don filing for divorce to make me see the truth.”

“Are you more content now that you’re focusing on your art again?”

“I’m happier than I expected to be. The parts of me that have been dormant for so long are slowly coming back to life and I feel more energized than ever.”

“Where do you go from here?” he asked.

“I don’t want to map out my future again. I want to learn to be content with not knowing where the road I’m traveling will take me.”

He eagle-eyed her sketch. “The boxcar looks like a living, breathing entity now.”

“Exactly.” She ran her fingertip across his lips. He had the most beautiful mouth, but she’d never tell him, because it would embarrass him. Instead, she said, “You’re amazing.”

“After the other night, I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that.” He grinned, and she punched his arm playfully.

“You’ve always gotten my art.” And he’d always gotten her.

He tugged on a strand of her hair. “Maybe we’re rushing things.”

“You think so?”

“You’re not officially divorced.”

“True.” As much as she’d enjoyed rekindling the flame with Jackson, she wasn’t ready to make a commitment to anyone but herself. The fact that he understood proved how well he knew her.

He cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes. “For now we’ll settle for being friends.”

“Friends with benefits or just friends?” She quirked an eyebrow.

“Just friends.” He motioned to the sketch. “Grab your stuff, and I’ll take you home.”

* * *

“What’s going on between you and Jackson?” Abby waltzed into the break room Saturday afternoon at the Buy & Bag. Katelyn was seated at the table, her feet up on a chair, sketch pad in her lap.

“Nothing. Why?”

“Dad said Jackson skipped his AA meeting yesterday and stayed awake until all hours of the night working on a car.”

A week had passed since she and Jackson had visited the railroad tracks and decided to remain friends without benefits. They’d seen each other once—when she’d walked out of the grocery store, his pickup had zoomed past on the street. She thought he might give her a lift home, but he’d only waved.

She was both relieved and disappointed that they weren’t sleeping together. “Jackson and I aren’t fighting, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Abby didn’t look convinced, but she dropped the subject. “I could use your advice.”

“Sure,” Katelyn said, her attention on the portrait she’d begun drawing yesterday.

“My boss called.”

“How old is your boss?”

“Steve’s thirty-seven.” Abby pulled out a chair at the table. “Why?”

“You’ve never mentioned him before, but you sounded excited when you brought him up just now.” Katelyn smiled. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”

Abby looked away and opened her locker. “The company has a strict policy against dating coworkers.”

“He’s not your coworker. He’s your boss.”

Abby sighed. “Okay, fine. He’s handsome. And brilliant.”

“Divorced?”

“Never been married.”

“Is he dating anyone?”

“No.”

“Do you catch him watching you when he thinks you’re not looking?”

Abby sucked in a quick breath. “Yes.”

“You’re pretty and smart. Any man in his right mind would have snapped you up before now, but I bet you’re holding out because you want to be with Steve.”

“If we date, one of us would have to leave the business.”

“So quit. Find a job somewhere else and go after the man you want to be with.” A long time ago Jackson had made Katelyn happy, and then she’d traded up for Don. What would have happened to her and Jackson if she’d returned to Little Springs after college? Would he have stopped drinking? Would she have kept drawing all these years?

“I’ve worked hard to climb the ladder at Milligan Natural Gas. I don’t want to start at the bottom somewhere new,” Abby said.

“You said you wanted kids.”

“Becoming a mother shouldn’t mean I have to give up my dream career.”

“You’re right,” Katelyn said.

“Being part of Steve’s team makes me happy. I miss the work and I miss him.”

“You’re in a tough spot,” Katelyn said.

“Steve wants me to lead a new PR campaign.” She offered a shy smile. “I don’t like bragging, but I’m really good at what I do.”

“What happens if you decline the opportunity?”

“I’ll get passed over when the next special project comes along.”

“Then go to Dallas.”

“I don’t know if my dad’s strong enough to be left alone.”

“He’s not alone. He’s got Shirley.”

“But that relationship ends as soon as you and your mother-in-law return to St. Louis.”

“If they’re still getting along by the end of the summer, maybe Shirley will invite Vern to St. Louis.”

“I can’t picture my father living out his last years anywhere but here. And there’s Jackson.”

“What about Jackson?”

“Dad’s his mentor. He won’t leave him high and dry.”

“Jackson wants what’s best for your dad. He’ll find another sponsor.”

“Dad’s more than a sponsor, Katelyn. Jackson is like a son to my father. And I can never repay Jackson for being there when my dad fell off the wagon after my mother died.”

A noise sounded outside the break room. Abby poked her head around the doorway. “Walter’s coming.” She turned back to Katelyn. “Any chance Shirley would consider relocating to Little Springs?”

Good God. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Go to Dallas, Abby. At least for a few weeks. Jackson and I will keep tabs on Shirley and your dad.”

“A few weeks would give me time to develop a campaign. Then Steve could take over if I have to return.”

Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case and Abby could remain in Dallas.

“Since when did fifteen-minute breaks become thirty?” Walter asked when he entered the room.

“Katelyn’s on her lunch break, and I quit,” Abby said.

Walter frowned. “Why? What happened?”

“It’s time for me to return to Dallas.” Abby slipped off her smock and tossed it into her locker. “Thank you for allowing me to work here while I was in town. I’d have gone crazy without something to do every day.”

“What about giving your two weeks’ notice?”

“I’ll work more hours until you hire someone to replace Abby, and you don’t have to pay me overtime,” Katelyn said.

“Thank you.” Abby hugged Katelyn. “It’s been fun working with you. Tell Layla I’ll give her a call before I skip town.” Abby left through the back door.

“I can ask Birdie to cover Abby’s hours,” Walter said.

“I’ll do it.” Katelyn wanted her mother to enjoy the rest of her summer, and if she and Jackson weren’t spending all their free time together anymore, then she needed to keep busy.

“Did you see this?” Walter pulled a yellow flyer from his pocket and handed it to Katelyn.

She unfolded the paper. Her mother’s band was performing tonight at Doris’s house. “I guess I know what I’m doing later.”

Walter pointed to her sketch. “What are you working on?”

She turned the paper toward him. “Doris Clemmons.” Ever since she’d helped the old woman find the aloe vera juice in the store, Katelyn had wanted to draw her face.

“I never noticed her eyes before. Is she always in that much pain?”

“She injured her back years ago.” Katelyn studied the face on the paper. “But despite her pain, she manages a smile for everyone.”

“I’ll need your help up front for the rest of the day.” Walter left the break room.

Katelyn set her charcoal pencil down and studied her work. She’d left town believing the only images worth drawing were beyond the boundaries of Little Springs. Why had it taken her so long to realize that it wasn’t places that had stories to tell, but the people who lived there?