Until There Was You(113)

With that, he walked away, and Posey stood there until he turned the corner and disappeared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“WELL, IT WAS THE whole do-or-die thing,” Jonathan pronounced, taking up the blow-dryer. “You said it all, gave it your all, went all out. No regrets. Sounds like you were amazing. Hold still.”

Oddly enough, Posey had been feeling…well, not horrible. It was hardest at night in the church with the animals doing their best to let her know she was loved, Shilo’s cementlike head on her belly, the cats purring at her side. But she had tried. Said everything in her heart, and if it wasn’t enough, then it just wasn’t. She was lucky on every other front in her life, and this echo, this empty cavern in her heart…it would fill in. She knew that. She did.

Posey winced as Jon applied a medieval-tong type of instrument. “Is that burning smell anything I should be worried about?”

“You’re fine. You’ll be OMG cute, trust me. Henry, doesn’t she look cute?” Henry grunted. “Betty’s going to adore you, Posey,” Jon continued. “Ten more days till we’re fathers! Ten days, Henry!”

“Ten days!” Henry chorused back, finally looking up with a smile.

“He’s in a good mood today. Some bozo with a table saw lost a thumb yesterday, and guess who reattached it? Happy times, right, darling?”

“So happy,” Henry said. “You look pretty, sis. Jon will be the luckiest boy at the prom.”

A knock came at the door. “Come in!” Jon shouted, then lowered his voice. “That’s my other appointment. Um…it’s Nicole Murphy. They couldn’t fit her in at Curl Up and Dye, but luckily, she has the best home-ec teacher in the world. My curse. I do everything so well.” He fingered a lock of her hair and hit it with some spray. “I hope you don’t mind, Posey.”

“No, no. Of course not.” She looked up as Liam’s daughter came into the kitchen. “Hey, Nicole!”

“Oh, hi, Posey! Are you Mr. White’s date?”

“She’s in love with me and begged me to take her,” Jon said, pulling a face. “Very awkward, but what can I do? She’s family.”

“So, you’re going with Tanner?” Posey asked.

The girl’s face lit up. “Yeah. My dad finally relented.”

She was so lovely, it was as if the room glowed. For a second, Posey felt such a wave of grief for Emma—who would never see this moment, who had been so good to Posey, who had died so horribly young—that tears came to her eyes. “You’re even prettier than your mom,” she said, her voice a little husky.

“Thanks, Posey.” The girl’s face softened.

“There we are, darling, you’re done,” Jon said, and Posey got out of the chair, the unfamiliar fumes of hair spray giving her a little rush.

“So, Nicole, how’s Mister Jonathan doing your hair?” she asked.

“An upsweep?” Nicole said. Jon squinted at her, then nodded.

“Old-school Hollywood, none of this tangled-ponytail business, don’t you think, precious?” Jon began brushing her hair, asking Nicole about her dress, the flowers Tanner would bring her. Henry poured Jon some sparkling water and handed it to him, then sat on the counter, watching the beautification.

“You seem good these days, big bro,” Posey said.

“Can’t wait to be a daddy,” he said.

“Can’t wait to be an aunt.” She squeezed his arm, happy to see him exhibiting normal human emotions.

“Did you have fun at your prom, Posey?” Nicole asked.

Though the question was completely normal, Posey froze. “Oh…well. Sort of.”

“She did not,” Jonathan retorted. “Some horrible boy made fun of her, ruined the whole night. Her date dumped her, and she had to walk home in the rain. It was so Carrie. Minus the killings and fire and blood. But just as bad in its own way.”

“Oh, my gosh!” Nicole exclaimed. “You poor thing!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Posey said, her face burning.

“If you have any problem at all tonight, Nicole, my dear, you tell me, and I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“You’re so nice, Mr. White. I really appreciate you doing my hair.”

“You’re very welcome. Tilt, please.”

Nicole tilted. “Why would a boy make fun of you? What a jerk! What did he say?”

The fact that Nicole’s father was the subject of the conversation was making Posey’s stomach knot. “Um…I don’t really remember. You know. It was a long time ago. Kids. Teenagers. Whatever.”

“He called her a bag of bones,” Jon said. “So mean! You’re petite, that’s all, sweetheart. Nicole, wait till you see Posey’s dress. So cute! I picked it out, of course.”

“I can’t wait,” Nicole said, smiling sweetly.

“So, who was that jerk, anyway, Posey?” Jon asked. “Henry, you beat him up, right? Does he still live in town?”

Henry was looking steadily at Posey, and a horrid realization sliced through her. Henry knew. He’d memorized all the bones in the human body by the age of four. His IQ was 164, and he had a near-perfect memory. There was no way that he didn’t realize that the jerk in question was the father of the girl sitting in his kitchen…and the guy Posey was in love with. He’d probably known all along.