As Good as the First Time Read online

  The surprise, though, was Clayton coming along too as if they were still kids. Didn’t he have to be on call at the firehouse or something, and what was his brother doing here? As far as she’d heard, Caleb had quite the reputation as the family recluse. If so, attending backyard barbecues could quite ruin that. She sighed. Clayton said nothing about coming to their barbecue when she was hopping around like a fool on the anthill the day before. Wasn’t that just like him.

  But then the biggest surprise came into view a moment later, and thankfully Liv had put the potato salad on the table just in time; otherwise she may have dropped it and broken one of Aunt Joyce’s coveted pieces of vintage Pyrex. Hope. She would have recognized the young girl anywhere, no matter that she was running out now at breakneck speed from behind Clayton’s back. With her wide, dimpled smile; the same lovely, smooth brown skin; and deep-set soulful eyes, Liv had to forcefully tell herself not to tear up as Hope ran past her and into Aunt Joyce’s arms. In that moment Hope swept her up in a momentary breeze that was full of the possibilities of what might’ve been and never would be.

  “It’s so good to see you, Miss Joyce,” the young girl said. “I know it’s been a while, but I’m glad to be here, and I sure hope you’ve got some peach cobbler today.”

  “Hope, is that a way to greet a person, asking for food straight out like you’re starving?”

  “Delia, you know that’s what I love about this child. She’s straightforward and honest, right to your face with it.” Aunt Joyce answered Mrs. Morris and gave little Hope a one-armed hug and a kiss on the top of her head. Her hair was braided into two neat, long French braids that were thick and full and went just past her shoulders, then were gathered together into a low barrette. Liv couldn’t help but wonder who braided the girl’s hair. More than likely Clayton’s mom did the girl’s hair, but still she wondered.

  “Hope.” It was Clayton’s rich voice that was reaching her ears now. “I’d like you to meet Miss Olivia. This is one of Miss Joyce’s nieces from New York. She’s an old friend.”

  At that odd declaration, little Hope, obviously no dummy, turned and gave Liv a serious perusing from her toes to the top of her head, then a look straight in the eye. Her eyes were so set and so serious and so like Clayton’s that Liv almost burst out laughing; at the same time the temptation to squirm was strong. But she couldn’t, not when she was under such scrutiny. “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, putting out her hand formally. It was this show of respect that Hope seemed to appreciate. She took Liv’s hand and gave quite a firm shake.

  Hope gave Liv a nod. “Nice to meet you, too,” she said, way more seriously than Liv was expecting from one so young.

  “How’s the foot?” Clayton interjected.

  At that, everyone looked down and Liv immediately regretted wearing a sundress, hoping the redness wasn’t all that evident. At least there wasn’t any visible swelling, and she had on plenty of repellent today. She wouldn’t tell Clayton in this crowd how effective his honey remedy was. She waved her hand. “It’s fine. I’m okay.”

  Hope looked up at her. “What happened to your foot?”

  Aunt Joyce sucked her teeth loudly. “She wasn’t watching where she was going is what.”

  Gosh, why did he have to bring it up now? You’d think her aunt would have given her a bit of sympathy, but no. Liv had forgotten the country adage of nature ruling. When she went in with her bitten ankle, Aunt Joyce seemed to have more sympathy for the disturbed ants than her.

  Liv looked down at Hope with resignation. “I stepped on an anthill yesterday. Stupid, huh?”

  Hope’s brows pulled together and she looked down at Liv’s feet, then back up at her with concern before she broke into a grin. “Yeah, it was. But it’s okay. I’ve done it too. Isn’t it the worst?”

  Surprising relief washed over Liv in finding this little ally. “It is. Thank you.” She looked over at her aunt. “See? At least somebody understands.”

  Aunt Joyce shook her head. “I’m not saying I don’t. I’m just saying you been out in these parts plenty enough to know better what to watch out for. This here is their country, not ours.” She turned to Hope. “Now, Hope, why don’t you run on and see if you can rustle up Rena’s crew and the rest of the kids,” Aunt Joyce said. “I can barely handle them without actin’ like a witch, but they seem to listen to a poised young lady like you. You know how they admire you. Now, please help me out. The quicker we can get dinner out, the quicker you can get to that cobbler.”

  Liking what she was hearing, Hope looked up at Aunt Joyce and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” She started to run off again, but before she did she turned back to Liv. “You watch where you step now, Miss Olivia. Oh, and get my dad to give you some honey to put on your foot. It’s great for the pain.”

  Liv smiled, pushing down on a threatening blush as Hope sprinted away toward the lake, where the kids were to do Aunt Joyce’s bidding. How smart. Liv knew that Hope wasn’t all that much older than the other kids, but putting her in charge was a great way to send her off with the other children while still making her feel quite grown up. She made a mental note.

  “It’s good to see you again, Olivia. You’re looking well,” Clayton’s mother said, pulling her back to the gathering. Liv knew it was meant to come out as warm, or at least Delia Morris’s version of warm, so Liv took it for what it was and gave Mrs. Morris a nod.

  “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Morris. It’s been too long. But it’s no telling that by looking at you. You look wonderful.”

  At that little compliment, Mrs. Morris smiled as she handed off her casserole dish to Aunt Joyce, who took it stiffly, which was about as much courtesy as she took any dish toward her table. Rena came out back, followed closely by Troy, who was late, but Liv could see Rena was glad he’d shown. With everyone in attendance, the music was lowered, the food was blessed, and Aunt Joyce declared it time to eat.

  Liv was busy chatting and took the nearest seat. She shouldn’t have been surprised when Clayton took the seat to her right, though she still looked up and gave him a slight frown, and Clayton returned her gaze with confusion.

  “This isn’t going to be a problem for you, is it? I mean, we are old friends; we should be able to share a meal.” He laughed.

  Liv’s frown deepened, and she let out a resigned sigh as she waved a hand indicating for him to sit down. Darn those ants! She shook her head. “Of course not. Good food is good food, and I can eat with just about anybody.”

  And this was supposed to be an easygoing dinner.

  Fighting to ignore the prickly sensations over having Clayton so near her, Liv decided to just focus, really ridiculously hard, on her macaroni salad and not the man sitting beside her at the table. Having finished the salad way too quickly, she took a breath and went in on the ribs. She couldn’t very well pick up a rib and eat it the way she really wanted to. Not with him right there. What would she look like with barbecue sauce all over the sides of her mouth? It looked really good. Glistening, warm, and sweet. Suddenly she thought of all the ribs, plates of spaghetti with rich garlic sauce, and any other delicious food that a woman is really not supposed to eat in front of a man she might want to impress. It brought flashbacks of Damon and all his little cracks about her body to the forefront of her mind. Why should she care what Clayton thought about it, or how she ate her ribs? Why should she care what any man thought about what she ate? They were her ribs and she’d eat them if she wanted to. Liv put down her fork and picked up her rib, going in for a hearty bite.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve still got a good appetite.” Clayton’s voice almost made her choke on her rib.

  Really? Who says something like that?

  How is that polite lunch conversation?

  To echo her thoughts, Liv turned to Clayton and posed that exact question with a sharp glare. For her reply, she got from him dark eyes and a shrug. “Well, at least I’m trying to make conversation. It’s what people usually do at dinner,” he said
. “You’re so silent, sitting here with your back all straight. Sorry, but I didn’t know what to say.”

  He looked sheepish and grew quiet.

  “Well, you could’ve said anything but that,” she said after a hard swallow. “A woman doesn’t like to be particularly reminded of her large appetite while she is at the table, eating. It gives her something to be self-conscious about, or feels suspiciously like policing.”

  Clayton gave Liv a quick up-and-down and then tilted his head to the side. “Oh, come on. Now, you are the last person who would have anything to be self-conscious about. With a figure like yours? Enjoy your rib.” He reached down to his plate and picked up one of his ribs and moved it to her plate, then gave her a smile that was somehow more enticing than the rib. “Here, you can have one of mine too. Whatever you’re eating, woman, it’s doing you a world of good.”

  Liv was embarrassed by the heat that rushed up her body at his ridiculous comment. She supposed that he thought it was supposed to be a compliment in a roundabout, totally unobtrusive way. And she supposed that some feminist part of her should really be put out by it. Who did he think he was? Objectifying her like that, dang it! There was that look, those eyes, and that smile . . . and those old, familiar chills she’d thought were long dead, but now she’d come to find out the darned things were only dormant. Lying in wait for him to stir them again and bring them back to life. As if she needed or wanted any sort of stirring.

  Liv reached over, plucked up said rib, and as tactfully as she could she dropped it back on his plate. With a splat, it landed in his potato salad. “Thanks, but no thanks. Not that I need your permission either way, but I’m getting full. Besides, I don’t want to overstuff myself. I like to leave room for a little dessert.”

  Clayton smiled and nodded. “And you still have that sweet tooth. Glad to see that hasn’t gone away either.”

  Liv closed her eyes, trying her best to hold on to a shred of control. Finally, she leveled Clayton with a hard stare and spoke with a low tone as she put on a cool smile. “You know, you don’t have to have an answer to everything I say, and you really don’t have to go out of your way to compliment me. Just because I’m here in town for a couple of weeks doesn’t mean you should be nice to me. I’m not a kid anymore, and I got the message years ago about how you felt about me. Consider it water under the bridge. We’re good.”

  At that, she saw something shift in Clayton’s eyes and any semblance of light fade away. Liv caught a distant chill seeing his façade crumble in real time. When he looked at her now, there was no smile, no playfulness, and no spark. “Liv, I truly am sorry for the way I treated you all those years ago,” he said, now completely serious. “But you don’t know for a second who I am or what I am. I think—” He was just about to go on when everyone’s focus was pulled to the far end of the table, where Rena’s little boy, Justice, knocked over a large glass of juice.

  “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to knock it over,” the five-year-old said, looking up at Rena with his oversize brown eyes, which took up most of his face.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Rena said. “I probably shouldn’t have filled the glass so full. Let me quickly clean it up before auntie gets on me for giving you liquids before you finished your food, anyway,” she said with a chuckle. But then Troy spoke up, his voice hard and cutting.

  “I told you about coddling that boy, Rena. Giving him all that juice. He’ll be wetting the bed again. Got him acting like a mama’s boy. He needs to man up!”

  With that, the table went immediately silent. Everyone was taking in Rena’s hurt and embarrassed expression, not to mention the look of distinct fear on young Justice’s face.

  Aunt Joyce gave Troy a look that could wither even the most hardened of giants. “You need to remember where you’re at, young man. You’re at my table, and nobody raises their voice at my table but me. So if you plan to continue, I expect you’ll do it elsewhere. Secondly, you need to remember you’re speaking to the mother of your child, not some dog in the street. Not that a dog deserves that tone, mind you.”

  Troy looked at Aunt Joyce, for a moment his eyes hard, and it seemed for a second as if he was about to say something when Caleb Morris opened his mouth, deflecting the situation. “You got that right, Miss Joyce. We all could use a little bit of a reminder from time to time. I guess the heat must have had Troy forgetting himself. It sure is a warm one today. He knows it was an accident. And accidents happen.” He gave Troy a look that was both warning and censure, then he looked toward Rena. “But we can’t let anything ruin this lovely day or this amazing meal. Y’all know I don’t get out much from where I am up on the mountain, so I consider this a treat.” He turned toward Warren and Wiley. “You guys going to have to come up and fish with me sometime; this catfish is delicious.”

  Wiley needed his agreement while Warren relaxed, but kept his gaze on Troy. Liv caught the nod Rena gave Caleb as she placed a kiss on the top of Justice’s head and refilled his juice cup.

  “Well, what’s done is done. This is supposed to be a party, and I’m so happy to have my nieces with me. Now, let’s keep this thing going. Time to get to the desserts. I didn’t do all this baking for my good health. Everybody go on and have a good time,” Aunt Joyce said, indicating it was time to bring the desserts out.

  Liv got up quickly to go and help, but was stopped by Clayton’s hand on her wrist. “Wait, please, there is more I have to say,” he said, looking up at her.

  She shook her head. “No. I think we’ve both said more than enough.”

  * * *

  Keeping his distance, Clayton eyed Livia over where she was standing by the dock having a piece of pie alone. It reminded him for a moment of how often he’d find her out there in that same situation when they were kids. Though there were usually tons of people milling about, she’d always found a way to pull herself away from the crowd. How she did it this afternoon was a feat within itself with so many people around. But since she did, he used the moment to his advantage and studied her. She looked beautiful, leaning easily against the old oak tree, looking intently out over the lake. Caleb frowned then, wondering what was going on in that head of hers.

  There was still so much tension between them, so much animosity from the past, that no matter how cool she tried to act, it was clear she’d never quite forgiven him. When she hit him with that hot and haughty stare of hers back at the table, for a moment he didn’t know who he was looking at. At times it was so clear that she was the same person he’d grown up with, learning and loving all those summers ago, but then when he truly opened his eyes and peered closer, the change of the years apart was so evident. The hardness, the inherent lack of trust behind her eyes even when she was smiling. Clayton let out a low and silent breath. If he was the beginning of that for her, well, he didn’t know if he could forgive himself.

  Sure, he suspected a certain amount of jadedness coming from a city person like Livia, but she’d always had a natural innocence and a hopeful optimism that he’d come to thrive on and, silly as it was, somehow believe in. It’s what he always loved about her. When she came to town she had a way of making him feel both worldly and brand new all at the same time.

  The wind kicked up, and he watched as her sundress flew up in the breeze, exposing her shapely legs. He swallowed. And at the very moment she turned and looked his way, locking eyes with him. As if noticing his staring and his sudden response, her brows tightened with censure. Would she forever make him feel like the teenager he wasn’t anymore?

  But she gave him a slight smile, at least he hoped it was for him; it could have been for any of the guys around him. At the moment, he’d take what bone he could get. Clayton turned to Warren and Wiley and let them know he’d be back soon.

  So it didn’t look obvious that he was making a pilgrimage toward Livia, Clayton stopped along the way to check on Hope, who was playing with the other kids. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw how happy she looked. Like a facsimile of her young
eleven-year-old self. But he knew that sight was only temporary. That these moments were fleeting and rare. The other day when the school called, giving him the biggest fright, they’d let him know that she was missing from her sixth-period gym class, and he was just about two minutes away from putting out an Amber Alert. Thank goodness his biggest fears were squelched only five minutes later when they called him back saying she was found crying in the back of the girls’ locker room.

  The whole thought of what happened to her and how totally helpless and unskilled and unprepared he had been made him want to kick himself over and over again. She was only eleven and she’d gotten her period. Unprepared. All alone and without a mother to call on. She didn’t even want the school to call him because she was afraid of how he would react.

  Even at this tender age, she’d pegged him as an inept father and she was probably right. If he was any good, he’d have made it work with Celeste, at least for Hope’s sake, and she wouldn’t have had to go through this alone. As it was, all she had was her grandmother giving her probably antiquated advice and him doing the best that he could after practically buying out the feminine care aisle in the pharmacy and viewing YouTube videos for two hours. He did the best he could when Hope cried in his arms as he gave her the bags and told her it was all right and it was all perfectly normal. He told her he would always love her no matter what. But in the end, he knew it wasn’t enough. He knew he would never be enough for her, but all he could do was try.

  Hope looked up at Clayton and grinned, one braid going left, the other going not quite right. But he was still happy to see the light shining in her eyes. “Hey, Daddy, Uncle Caleb said he’s going take me out on the lake later to fish.”