Tumble (Dogwood Lane, #1)(43)

“It’s amazing no one has hit him,” I note.

“I said the same thing last week. The town ought to get a sign or something that warns people. Like a ‘Child Crossing’ sign or something.”

“Yeah, but really—how many people come down this street who don’t know to look for him? There’s nothing down here but a few houses, and all the families have lived here forever.”

“That’s true.”

I hit the brakes at the end of the street, and the dishes laid carefully on towels in the back jangle together.

“How many things are we taking to the potluck?” I look in the rearview mirror. “It smells like a kitchen in here.”

“It’s a carry-in, so I had to bring a covered dish.”

“You brought four? Five?”

“Well, I made green beans with bacon because no one ever brings vegetables to things like this. And everyone loves my green beans.”

I laugh. “Of course they do. You cook all the vitamins out and flavor them with bacon fat.”

“I don’t hear any complaints,” she says. “I whipped together a Seven Layer Salad and found the prettiest strawberries at Graber’s, so I made a strawberry pie for the kids.”

“Screw the kids. That’s mine.”

She shakes her head as we make the turn toward the church. “I also made a raisin pie.”

“Who likes raisin pie?” I curl my nose. “That’s old-people pie.”

Mom looks smug. “Mr. Rambis likes it.”

“Ooooh,” I tease. “Mr. Rambis likes it. What else does Mr. Rambis like, Mom?”

She swats my shoulder as I pull into the parking lot. “You knock it off. We’re at church, missy.”

“Like God doesn’t know all the unholy things you’re doing with Mr. Rambis. Ouch!” I say as she smacks me with her purse. “Kidding. I was kidding.”

We step into the parking lot. The large tree in the front still has the tire swing that my youth group put up forever ago hanging off a bottom limb. The front window has been changed, and a plain sheet of glass sits in place of the gorgeous stained glass I remember.

Mom catches me looking at it. “A limb fell off the tree a few summers back and went right through that window. Such a shame.”

“It is. It was so pretty,” I lament. “I used to sit through the sermons and count the different colors.”

It’s such a small thing, really, a tiny change in the grand scheme of things. But as I peer up to the spot that used to be so colorful and is now a sheet of plain old glass, I wonder what else I missed. The things I can’t see so easily.

There’s a part of me that suddenly feels vacant, like there’s an empty space that should’ve been filled with all this knowledge and these experiences—as silly as they are. I stand on the sidewalk trying to make sense of this until the church bell rings.

“Hey!” I call after Mom. “What are we doing with the food?”

“Leave the car unlocked, and someone will come out and get it in a bit.”

I stop in my tracks. “Leave it unlocked? Seriously? What if someone steals it?”

She’s unfazed, just laughs at my serious questions and heads up the stairs without me. Throwing my hands in the air, muttering that it’s her car, I follow.

The entry is full of parishioners. Everyone I pass stops to say hello, many asking how I’m doing and asking me to visit more often. I don’t expect the outpouring of love, and it catches me a little off guard.

I enter the sanctuary and spy my mother talking to Mr. Rambis and Lorene, the woman who’s played the piano here my entire life, near the front. Scanning the rest of the quaint little country church, my eyes fall on Dane and Mia near the piano. Gripping the end of a pew, I try to look away but can’t.

He’s in a pair of gray dress pants and a crisp white button-down. Mia is adorable in a yellow dress with pink lace at the edges. Matt stands next to them. He bends down and whispers something to Mia, making her laugh. I laugh, too, even though I have no idea what’s transpired.

“He cleans up pretty well, huh?” Claire comes up beside me.

“He’s not bad.” I can’t stop myself from smiling.

“Not bad? I don’t know what they look like up in New York, but around here, that’s the top of the food chain.”

“Food chain?” I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, Claire.”

She shrugs. “You sticking around for the potluck?”

“I’m with Mom and she made forty million things, so apparently. Are you?”

“No. A girl I’m going to school with is having a baby shower this afternoon, so I’m cutting out after the service. Wanna go?”

My gaze drifts back to Dane. He’s found me in the crowd and gives me a little wave. I wave back in the most “I haven’t been thinking about you all night” kind of way I can.

“I better stay with Mom,” I say, turning my attention back to Claire.

“Can I just say she and Mr. Rambis are adorable?”

“How long has this been going on? I mean, I’m happy she’s dating or whatever it is, but I can’t tell if it’s serious.”

“Well, they sit together every week. Have for a while now. Since Christmas, I’d say.”