Back Where She Belongs(26)

Next she worked on Faye’s hair. “You won’t believe what happened last night,” she said, deciding to think out loud with her sister. “I had dinner at Dylan’s and we almost went to bed together.” She paused mid brushstroke to see if Faye had responded to that.

Nothing.

“I know. Bad idea. In the end, I was the one who stopped us. I knew it would be pointless...probably sad, really.” If it wasn’t life changing. She straightened a strand of Faye’s hair. “I need to start dating. I’ve been lonely, but I didn’t notice. That should fix it.”

She finished Faye’s hair, admiring the smoothness, the slight under-curl she’d achieved. “Perfect.” She stared at her sister’s closed eyes. She seemed so far away. “Come on, Faye,” she said. “Wake up. Live. You’ve got music and flowers and people who love you.” Her gaze snagged on the Sunset Crater picture. “Look at how happy you were, how in love. I’m sorry I didn’t see that at the time.”

Her sister didn’t respond.

“But you weren’t happy before the wreck, were you? You were worried. What was wrong? The questions are piling up and you’re the only one who can answer them.”

Fighting frustration, she placed Faye’s hand on the tray and shook the nail polish. “Neon orange,” she said. “Not your style, but it’s lively, right? And you need lively stuff.” She’d chosen candy-apple red lipstick for the same reason. She opened the polish, loaded the brush and reached down for Faye’s hand. Faye’s index finger twitched.

Tara gasped, dripping polish on Faye’s knuckle. Her heart leaped. “Faye? Did you do that on purpose? Do it again.” She stared at Faye’s hand. There. Another twitch. Wait. Maybe not. Maybe Tara had imagined that.

Someone entered the room. “We can hear that nasty music all the way from—”

“Rita! Her finger twitched! She’s waking up.”

Rita moved swiftly to Faye’s bedside. She hesitated, probably at the change in Faye’s appearance, then picked up Faye’s hand. Tara clicked off the music. “You coming back, sugar?” Rita asked softly. “Can you squeeze my hand for me?”

Nothing. Rita took her flashlight out and tested Faye’s pupils. No change.

Rita did the rest of the tests, then sighed. “Sorry, hon. Transient spasms. It happens.”

“So it’s nothing?” Tara’s heart sank. “It doesn’t mean she’s improving?”

Rita sat on the chair next to Tara, her eyes full of sympathy. “It’s nice, you fixing her face and hair. I’m gonna need sunglasses to tolerate that nail polish, though.”

Tara couldn’t even manage a smile.

“How you doing?” Rita asked.

“Okay, I guess.”

“It’s hard, this limbo you’re in. You gotta prepare yourself either way.”

“I wish I’d been there for her more...before.”

“We’re all just human beings doing what we can.”

“She was on antidepressants, Rita, and something for anxiety. I had no idea how bad off she was. I’m scared that if she was drinking that night, the alcohol mixed with the pills might have caused her to lose control of the car.”

Rita blew out a breath and gave Tara an irritated look. “I don’t know what it is about you that does this to me.”

“What do you mean?”

Rita pushed to her feet. “I checked the labs, okay? Your sister had no alcohol in her system when she was admitted. And don’t say one more word about it.”

Faye hadn’t been drunk. Thank God. Tara’s heart lifted as she took the deepest breath she’d taken since she arrived. Her whole body felt lighter. She wanted to burst out laughing. She wanted to dance to MC Hammer.

“You have no idea what a relief that is.” She jumped up and kissed Rita right on the mouth. “Thank you, thank you, a million times, thank you.”

“Calm yourself down now.” But Rita was smiling. “They got chocolates on sale in the gift shop, you want to thank me better than a big wet kiss. No nuts, no caramels, no coconut.” With that, she was gone, leaving Tara smiling in gratitude, almost collapsing with relief.

The rumor was wrong. But what about her father? Fallon had hinted he’d been the one driving. He claimed he’d smelled alcohol. The only way to find out if her father had been drunk would be to get her mother to ask the hospital about it.

And what if he had been? That would be terrible, too. Judith would have Tara’s head for suggesting the possibility to her mother.

She looked back at her sister. “I never doubted you. Not really. I’m going to find out who’s lying about you and why. Don’t you worry.” She was more determined than ever. She couldn’t wait to tell Dylan. She started to call him, then realized she needed to hustle if she wanted her timing at Wharton to work. She needed to sit in on some of the meeting after she looked through Faye’s office.

Besides, she’d rather tell Dylan in person, see the expression on his face...see him again.

It was true, she thought with dismay. She couldn’t wait to see him again...maybe touch him...definitely smell him.

She glanced at Faye, who looked almost like herself with her hair done and makeup on. What would Faye tell her? For God’s sake, grow up.

The Faye in the Sunset Crater photo would say, Go with your heart.

And that, she knew, she didn’t dare do.

* * *

“I’M GOING TO TELL Victor we’ve authorized overtime to catch up on production,” Dylan told his father early Wednesday morning.

“We can’t afford that and you know it. You set the price too low as it is. Let ’em wait. God knows, we waited long enough for that contract.” His father braced his head in his hands, clearly exhausted. He hadn’t been sleeping. Dylan had gotten emails from him at two and three in the morning, always about a new idea to pursue. Since the funeral, his father had been more miserable than ever. He’d retreated more and more to the research lab, AWOL from his CEO duties.

Dylan had a sinking feeling he’d have to stay longer at Ryland than he’d intended to make sure his father was back on track again.

“We have to do what we can. Once we get the specs adjusted, we’ll catch up quickly. If we don’t meet our deadlines, Wharton can’t meet theirs and the dominos tumble.”

“Maybe you should have me speak at that damn meeting. You can be nice and accommodating and I’ll tell them exactly where they went wrong.”

“I’ll be fine, Dad.” No way would he let his father add fuel to the conflict after the exchange with Joseph at the funeral. Dylan hadn’t realized Joseph had questioned the Ryland contract. With the high fail rate their testers were reporting now, he was certain all the managers would be concerned.

The delay of the Wharton management meeting where he was to speak had given Victor more time to gather data from his shift managers for Dylan to share during his presentation.

“I say no on the overtime,” his father declared.

“I talked it over with Victor and we agree it’s the best solution. Once the Wharton batteries get out in quantity, we’ll make up for any money we lost.”

“Are you forgetting whose company this is?” his father demanded.

“You signed off on the bid. My job is to supervise the operation.”

His father grabbed his ring of keys from the desk and held them out. “Then you might as well hand these over to Joe Banes. Tell him to turn off the light once he’s cleaned us out.”

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” Dylan said, leaving before he blew up, which would only make it worse. His jaw ached from being clenched. Tara’s words played in his head: Does your father realize you saved him? Does he appreciate what you gave up for him?

Not enough, no. But Dylan had made the right choice. He’d helped build a remarkable company. He’d pushed hard to get here. It had been a risk, letting income drop for the next quarter, but the payoff would be huge. When he faced a tough decision, Dylan found himself thinking, What would Abbott Wharton do?

Out in the factory, Dylan went straight to Victor’s glassed-in office. “It’s a go on overtime.”

“Good,” Victor said, holding out stapled pages. “Dale put together the figures.” Dale was the Quality Assurance manager. “We doubled our tests on this lot. If Wharton fails them, maybe Sean’s right. Maybe they are sabotaging us for a price break.” He offered a grim smile. Victor and Dylan had shaken their heads more than once over his father’s suspicion of all things Wharton. Dylan had advised Victor on the best approach to working with his father. He hoped to hell it would be enough.

“I’ll give them the data and explain our system. If they adjust the specs like we’ve suggested, we should be fine.”