Going Home
by Arianna Hart
Copyright © 2017 by Arianna Hart. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Prologue
DALE, GEORGIA, TWELVE YEARS AGO
“Mama, there’s a car coming up the drive,” Nadya said as casually as she could considering the vast amount of anticipation thrumming through her eighteen-year-old body.
“It’s probably just Pastor McBride coming for his weekly visit,” her mother answered from the living room. “Do we have fresh tea in the fridge?”
“Yes. But, Mama, I don’t understand why he comes every week. We’re never joining his church.” Not that she minded, seeing as Pastor McBride always brought his son J.T. with him on his visits.
“I guess he feels like it’s his Christian duty to bring me to the Lord. I keep with God my own way.”
“But Mrs. Campbell is always saying how we’re going to hell—”
“Darlin’, those same ladies who spend all Sunday at church praying and lamenting come to me on Monday looking for love potions or a gypsy curse. Now you tell me which is more sinful? We live our lives without pretense and hurt no one, while they smile to your face and stab you in the back. When the time comes to meet my Maker, I have nothing to hide.”
Nadya didn’t have patience to contemplate theology right now. Every atom of her being was focused on the sound of tires crunching up the long drive from the road to their cabin. She wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on the seat of her cutoffs and checked her reflection in the spotted mirror hanging in the hall. Her long, black hair stubbornly refused to lie straight in the Georgia heat and humidity. It was way too hot to leave down so she’d piled the curls on top of her head and let some fall around her face. With the big, gold hoop earrings and some eyeliner and mascara to play up her slanted eyes, she thought she looked exotic and mature. She’d never be one of those blonde-haired, pink-cheeked china dolls like her friend, Mary Ellen, so she didn’t even bother to try.
The crunch of tires on the gravel drive came to a halt, and Nadya’s heart beat double-time. She peeked out the kitchen window and caught a glimpse of J.T.’s long frame unfolding from his father’s Buick. Her mouth went dry as he ambled around the hood of the car. He tossed his head back to get the shock of hair that perpetually hung in his eyes off his face, and her heart skipped a beat.
That damn move had every female from five to fifty panting after him. And if that didn’t get their panties in a lather, a flash of his dimples and they melted at his feet.
Nadya bit back the urge to rush to the door as she heard the porch steps creak. Let him wait for a change.
Her mother shot her a knowing grin as she answered the polite knock on the screen door. Nadya listened from the kitchen window as her mother greeted their visitors.
“Why, Pastor McBride, what a surprise,” Mama said in her sultry voice. “What brings you all the way out here on such a hot day? Won’t you sit down and have some tea?”
“Good afternoon, Miss Talaitha. I’d love a glass of sweet tea if you have it ready. Don’t go to any trouble on my account though.”
“It’s no trouble at all. How about you, Jefferson Thomas? Can I get you a glass too?”
No! No, no, no, no! If J.T. sat down with her mother and his father, that would force Nadya to join them, and they’d be there for close to an hour making small talk and listening to the pastor talk about the wages of sin.
“No, thank you, ma’am. I was wondering if I could take a look at the creek? Some friends of mine were thinking about going fishing, and I want to see how they’re running today.”
“I understand. Have Nadya take you. The woods ’round here can be a little trickier than what you’re used to.”
Yes! Go, Mom!
“Nadya? Honey, can you show Jefferson Thomas the way to the creek? Oh, and bring out some tea for Pastor McBride,” her mom called in through the open window.
“Yes, ma’am.” Nadya took a deep breath and tried to still the shaking in her hands. The rattling of the glasses on the tray was evidence she hadn’t succeeded.
Her legs turned to jelly as she caught a glimpse of J.T. standing politely on the steps, his hands in his jeans’ pockets. Butterflies danced in her stomach and she felt lightheaded. His green gaze followed her as she carefully placed the tray with the pitcher of iced tea on the table by her mama’s chair.
“Now don’t be gone too long,” Pastor McBride said as he settled down opposite Tala. He took a long drink of the iced tea. “That sure hits the spot. On second thought, take your time. I might not move from this spot all day.”
“Take a stick and watch for snakes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” J.T. gestured for Nadya to lead the way.
Just act normal. This is nothing more than two friends taking a walk in the woods. Just an innocent stroll through nature.
Nadya grabbed a long stick propped near the wood pile and pushed her way through the bushes hiding the path she and her mother knew like the backs of their hands. She could feel J.T.’s gaze on her as they moved deeper into the woods. The temperature cooled off some in the shade of the trees, but the humidity was as heavy as a horse blanket.
The sound of running water trickled in the distance. Nadya turned to warn J.T. of a spot where the path had washed away. Before she could get the words out, he had her pressed against a tree, his tongue filling her mouth and his hands clamped on her ass.
Heat exploded through her and she could practically feel her body ignite. Tearing at his neatly tucked T-shirt, she yanked it up so she could run her hands over his bare skin. She felt the bulge between his legs press against her thigh, and nervousness warred with excitement.
“Holy crap, I didn’t think they’d ever stop talking,” J.T. mumbled against her cheek as he spread kisses to her throat.
Shivers ran down her spine and lodged in her belly. And lower.
“I about died when she asked if you wanted some tea. I didn’t know how we’d get out of there if you’d accepted.”
“Are you kidding me? I haven’t seen you all week. If I had to sit across from you and make nice with your mama while my daddy preached, I’d of embarrassed us both. I don’t think either one of them would believe it was the gospel giving me a boner.”
“Jefferson Thomas! You’re surely going to hell for that.” Nadya ran her nails across his ribs and through the smattering of hair on his chest. She felt powerful when he gasped as she found a nipple.
“I thought you didn’t believe in hell.”
“No, I just don’t believe in the hell your daddy preaches. Come on, I want to show you something near the creek.”
“I don’t really care if the fish are running. Me and Billy only say we’re going fishing to have an excuse to drink beer.”
“No kidding. I can probably fish better than you. That’s not what I wanted to show you. Come on, it’s just a little farther.”
She grabbed his hand and dragged him back onto the path. For a while the silence was only broken by the whine of the heat bugs and the rustling of leaves. The world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for something momentous to happen.
“It’s just through these trees, come on,” Nadya urged.
“What’s so important—” His words trailed off as she pulled him into her clearing. “Whoa, what is this place?”
“Mine.”
The clearing was her special place. Years ago, boulders had tumbled into the creek and formed a shallow pool. An ancient tree had fallen, creating a perfect bench for her to sit on and think deep thoughts or just splash her feet in the crystal-clear water. A patch of moss spread from the tree trunk back into the woods, giving her a shady bed for daydreaming or just relaxing.
She’d never seen another human here, only deer, squirrels, birds and the occasional fox. As far as she knew, she was the only person who knew about this place. Until now.
“How did you find it? This is incredible, like something out of a movie.”
“When I was about five, I was collecting firewood and I saw a deer leap through the bushes.”
“So of course you had to follow him.”
“Of course.”
“You’re lucky some hunter wasn’t following him too. You could have ended up shot.”
“I was five. All I was thinking was, ‘look, pretty deer. Maybe I can touch him’.”
“And the deer led you here?”
“Yup. The clearing looked pretty much like it does now, except I weeded the area near the pool so it’s more open. I come here when I need to get away or just think. It’s my special place.” She swallowed back the nerves that tried to choke her. Even though she’d practiced what she wanted to say, she couldn’t get the words out, so she used her body instead.
Going up on tiptoe, she speared her fingers into his thick hair and brought his mouth to hers. In the next heartbeat, he clasped her to his chest, crushing her breasts against him. She ran her leg up the outside of his thigh, which pressed him closer to her. When he groaned, she felt it straight to her core.
The dappled sunlight painted his body as he stripped his shirt over his head. He pulled her to the mossy ground and rolled her on his chest. Before she could catch her breath from the intimacy of having him between her legs, he pulled the elastic out of her hair and let the cloud of it tumble down.
“God, just let me…touch you,” he whispered feverishly against her throat.
“Yes.” Her voice caught as wave after wave of sensation flooded her.
Her shirt and bra magically disappeared and they were skin to skin. An ache bloomed between her legs as sweat made their skin slick. Blood rushed through her veins and her only thought was more. He rolled her onto her side and ran kisses over her super-sensitive breasts. She dug her fingers into his back, trying to find an anchor in the chaos that overwhelmed her.
When his finger parted the curls between her legs, she felt the shock zing through her, followed by a tightening deep within. Her hands trembled as she tugged down his zipper. The length of him practically jumped out of his tightie-whities. She wanted to look closer, to see this part of him that was so different from her, but he groaned and wrapped her hand around the shaft. Sensations flew at her from all directions. The soft moss under her hip, the heat of the sun on her skin, the velvety texture of his cock covering a steely hardness. And most of all, his finger in her body, pumping into her, drawing every last ounce of pleasure out of each stroke.
Her breathing came faster. There was something there, something close, if she could only. Just. Reach. It. She heard him panting in her ear as she stroked him faster and faster, could taste the saltiness of his skin as she bit into his shoulder. Suddenly, her body flew apart. Her hips pulsed as her center spasmed around his finger. Just when she thought it was too much, J.T. let out a groan and wetness flooded her hand.
Nadya lay there, trying to catch her breath. Her shorts were pushed down to her knees, and she didn’t know what to do with the mess in her hand. J.T.’s sweat-slick skin stuck to hers, and she felt hot and confused and had no idea what to do next.
“Hold on, I’ll give you my shirt to clean up.” J.T. reached for his crumpled T-shirt.
The second he rolled over, she shimmied back into her shorts and lunged for her tank top.
“Wait, please. Don’t cover yourself up yet.”
Nadya felt embarrassed and awkward all at once. Now that the fire inside her had died down, she couldn’t look at him. This was not at all how she imagined the afternoon to be. All she wanted to do was get dressed and go home, but when he held his arms out to her, she melted against him.
“Why didn’t you…I was going to let you…” Even after what they’d shared, she couldn’t say the words.
“I know.”
“Then why? I don’t get it.” In health class they spent hours telling girls how to tell a guy no, they never discussed what to do when you wanted to say yes.
“In less than a month I’m shipping out. I don’t want anything tying me to this town. I respect you too much to make promises I have no intention of keeping. Once I step on that bus, I’m never coming back here.”
Even though she’d known how he felt—in fact felt the same way—the words still hurt. Before she could form a reply, a familiar crunch caught her attention. “Listen. Someone’s coming up the drive.” Nadya scrambled into her tank top as J.T. fumbled to zip his pants. “Hurry,” she whispered urgently. A bad feeling coiled in her gut like a snake about to strike.
“What’s the big deal? Someone else is just coming to call.”
“No one but your father comes to see us. Unless they want something. Come on. If we cut through here we’ll come around the back of the cabin.”
Prickers and sticks scratched her legs as she ran through the woods toward the cabin. She didn’t know why, but a sixth sense was telling her something bad was on the way. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck but she didn’t take the time to tie it up. She had to get home.
J.T. pulled in front of her as they burst through the bushes at the edge of her mama’s garden. A shiny, white car that could only be Mrs. Campbell’s pulled in the drive and stopped behind Pastor McBride’s Buick. Orleane Campbell was one of the church ladies who made comments about Nadya and her mama every time they went into town. Her daughter, Pansy, was two years younger than Nadya, and well on her way to becoming the most obnoxious girl in a school full of them. What were they doing here?
J.T. ran around the front where Mrs. Campbell and Pansy were getting out of the car. Nadya headed for the back door of the cabin, intending to clean up before her mother saw the tell-tale grass stains on her shirt and shorts. As she passed under the window to her mama’s room, she shot a quick glance in to make sure the coast was clear before she snuck in. What she saw stopped all thoughts of a quick change in their tracks.
Her mama had obviously just heard the car doors slam, because she was scrambling buck naked across the bed to where her skirt and blouse lay tossed on the footboard. Pastor McBride had his pants halfway up and was pulling on his button-down shirt that had the sleeves inside out.
Nadya’s first thought was, Wow, he’s pretty hot for an old guy. Her second was, Aren’t they too old to be doing it?
Before she could sneak in the house, she heard Mrs. Campbell’s voice raised in anger. “What exactly is going on here? I want to see your daddy this instant!”
Nadya gave up stealth for speed and burst through the back door. Her mama had managed to get dressed, but there was no disguising her tousled appearance. The thought that she might have the same look crossed Nadya’s mind when her mama gave her a knowing glance.
Tala visibly collected herself before strolling through the front door like she didn’t have a crazy woman screaming on her front stoop. “Good afternoon, Orleane, Pansy. What can I do for you today?”
“I want to know what is going on here. Why is Pastor McBride’s car in your drive? What gypsy tricks are you plying on him?”
“And why are you here too, J.T.?” Pansy asked, moving in front of him.
J.T. leaned against the porch rail, trapped between that and Pansy. Sweat trickled down his neck and stuck his dirt-stained shirt to his chest. A scowl darkened his face as he tried to move away from Pansy.
“What gypsy tricks would those be, Orleane? Love potions? Isn’t that what you wanted me to make for you? The pastor is here preaching the good word, trying to bring me into his flock.” Tala’s voice dripped sarcasm like warm honey.
“Then why is his Bible out here and he’s in your shack?”
“And why is Nadya covered in pine needles and has her shirt on inside out? Slut.” Pansy shot a glare at Nadya.
“Like mother, like daughter.” Mrs. Campbell stepped towards Tala.
“That’s enough!” Pastor McBride shouted as he marched out onto the porch. Mrs. Campbell and Pansy jumped back, and J.T. quickly moved next to Nadya. “What gives you the right to come to this woman’s house and cast aspersions on her character?”
“I was just trying to find you to talk about the bake sale on Sunday. When I didn’t find you at the meeting house, I asked around, and Mabel Jones said she saw your car headed out on Deer Creek Road. Well, everyone knows the only things on Deer Creek are trees and the gypsy whore.”
“And her whore daughter,” added Pansy.
Nadya made a move toward Pansy. If that little bitch called her or her mother a whore one more time, she’d be looking for her teeth. J.T. grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against him.
“Don’t let her get to you. She’s a jealous cow and not worth you getting arrested over.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Nadya bit out.
Pansy let out a scream of fury and lunged toward Nadya. Before Pastor McBride could stop her, Pansy slapped Nadya across the face.
“That’s enough!” Pastor McBride shouted again, hauling the rather chunky Pansy off the porch. “Orleane, take your daughter home until she can control herself.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know what shenanigans were going on here. It’s my God-given duty as a member of the church board to make sure our pastor isn’t preaching one thing on Sunday and sinning the rest of the week.”
“Unless it’s with you. Isn’t that right, Orleane?” Tala said as she stepped in front of Nadya. Her black eyes blazed with fury. “You came to me last week asking if I had any gypsy potions to make someone fall in love. When I turned you away, you came back looking for the reason why. It wouldn’t have mattered if the good pastor was baptizing me in the creek, you were bound and determined to find something dirty out here.” She stepped off the porch and got right in Mrs. Campbell’s face. “You can say what you want about me. I’ve been called whore before, but you leave my daughter and the pastor out of your jealous temper tantrum.”
Mrs. Campbell was several inches taller and many pounds heavier than the petite Tala, but she stepped back from the naked fury on the smaller woman’s face.
“Or what?” she said with false bravado. “Will you put a curse on me?”
“I don’t need to. Your pettiness will stamp itself on your face without any help from me. That will be your curse and your fate.” Tala spun around, her skirt flaring around her calves, and glided up the steps.
“Thank you for your…guidance, Pastor McBride,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “But I think I’ll stick with my own faith. Nadya, go on inside. I’ll put a cold compress on your cheek.”
Nadya slipped out of J.T.’s arms and went to her mother. They locked the door behind them and didn’t bother to look as two cars pulled out of the drive.
Chapter One
NEW YORK CITY, PRESENT DAY
“I cannot believe you are wasting your vacation time going to Deliverance, Georgia. If I had a month of vacation, I’d go to the Caribbean.” Sandra Goldstein, Nadya’s best friend and co-peon in the gigantic law firm where they worked, knocked back her vodka martini and signaled the waiter for another one.
“If you put in as many billable hours as I did trying to pay off college loans, you’d have a month of vacation to use before the end of the fiscal year too. Besides, it’s Dale, Georgia, not Deliverance, and I won’t spend the whole month there. It should only take a week or two to get the last of the estate through probate. It’s not like my mother had that many personal assets.” Nadya sipped her martini a bit more slowly. It was perfectly chilled and smooth as silk.
“Dale, Deliverance—same difference. It’s filled with flannel and butt cleavage and there’s not a chance you’ll find anyone with their own teeth, forget working brain cells.”
More like judgmental bigots and rednecks.
“Don’t remind me. It’s not like I want to go. It’s something I have to do.”
“Whatever, bubele. I still think you’d be better off on an island somewhere.”
“It’s not like you’re going to the Caymans—you’ll be in Miami.”
“Oy, don’t remind me. I get to spend my one week of vacation with my family. Maybe butt cleavage isn’t all that bad.”
“Depends on whose butt.” Nadya laughed.
“Was there a particular butt you wanted to see again?”
Memories of a hot, steamy day with breathless kisses and awkward caresses flashed through her brain. “No.”
“I sense a certain wistfulness in your answer. Come on, give.”
Nadya heaved a sigh and finished off her drink quicker than the quality vodka called for. “You know that old Dusty Springfield song about the son of a preacher?”
“I think so. It was in a movie, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Anyway, there was a guy, a boy really, who was the preacher’s son, and he and I were together for a hot and heavy month before I left. I guess you always wonder what could have been, you know?”
“The only time I thought that was with Michael Schmitt, my boyfriend in eighth grade. I saw him at a cousin’s wedding and felt like I dodged a bullet. So, you think you’ll run into your teenage crush again?”
“Not a chance. The last time I saw him he was headed to the military and wasn’t coming back to Dale ever again.”
“Nice place. And you’re sure you have to go back there? You can’t get one of the clerks to handle probate?”
“Unfortunately, no. My mother left something for me, and the lawyer handling her affairs said I have to receive it in person. There might be some other complications since she died in California, but her papers were in Dale.”
“I can’t believe a hick town like that even has a lawyer.”
“Me either. It sure didn’t when I was growing up, but apparently my mother trusted him because he has her paperwork. He’s also older than dirt and doesn’t believe in faxes or email or other new-fangled technology.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Tons.”
“I’m only a phone call away if you need me. That is, if you get any cell service out there in the boonies.”
“Who knows? I’d be surprised if there’s a cell tower anywhere near Dale. It was just a tiny town on the edge of the state forest. For all I know, they don’t even have the Internet yet.”
Sandra shuddered. “Miami is looking better all the time. At least I’ll have air conditioning and access to wi-fi.”
“Don’t rub it in.”
…
On the road the next morning, Nadya plugged in her iPod and scrolled through until she found the song she was looking for. Hearing Dusty Springfield’s lament about the only boy who could ever move her brought all the memories of her month-long romance with J.T. McBride scrolling through her head.
In retrospect, she should have thanked him for being so honest with her when he told her he wouldn’t make any promises. Most eighteen-year-old boys would have happily screwed her and promised the world. At least she was spared the embarrassment of seeing him again after her failed seduction. She and her mama had packed up and fled in the middle of that night.
She still remembered their frantic rush to pack anything of worth into the beat-up station wagon Nadya had bought with the money she earned working at the general store.
Her mama’s words were burned in her brain. “Puishor, when the gadzé start throwing around words like ‘gypsy tricks’ and ‘whore’ it’s time to go. You don’t wait until you see the torches, you get out fast.”
“But, Mama, you’re not even a gypsy anymore. Your family disowned you before I was born.”
“Doesn’t matter. To the Outsiders, I’m still one of those filthy gypsies, and if Orleane gets the church stirred up about Pastor McBride, it’s me who’s going to get the blame.”
And her mama had been right. Nadya had called her friend Mary Ellen a few days later to tell her goodbye, and Mary Ellen filled her in on what had happened. Pastor McBride had been fired as the church’s preacher for failing to renounce Talaitha. J.T. had spent his last days in Dale in one fight after another. And someone had smashed every window in Nadya’s cabin and spray painted Gypsy Whores over the front porch.
Nadya wondered how the owner of the cabin had felt about that. It’s not like her mama had left a forwarding address. Hell, Nadya didn’t even know who the owner of the cabin was. All she knew was that her mother said the rent had been paid upfront years ago, and they could live there until Nadya graduated.
And now she was going back to Dale. Or at least stopping in. She’d decided against staying in the only bed and breakfast in town, and opted instead for a hotel an hour away. It would be less convenient if she had to spend any length of time dealing with the lawyer, but it would be far more comfortable for her peace of mind.
As she sped down the highway, she wondered what exactly her mama had left in the hands of a small-town lawyer. As far as she could remember, her mama had avoided contact with authority figures as much as humanly possible. The only thing she’d owned outright at the time of her death had been the RV she toured the country in. Nadya had co-signed the loan on that, and it had been handled in probate in New York.
Regret warred with guilt as she thought about her beautiful mother. Could she have done anything differently if she hadn’t been so busy trying to make it in New York City? Would she even have been able to make her mother see a doctor before the cancer had spread throughout her body? She should have spent more time with her at the end. Would it have killed her to take a few weeks off?
Nadya knew her mother had an extended family but had no idea how to contact them to let them know of Talaitha’s death. Not that she’d tried very hard to find them. When her mother had gotten pregnant by a gadzé, an Outsider, when she was sixteen, her family made her an outcast and shunned her. Virginity was prized among the Rom, and her mother had not only slept with a man without the benefit of marriage, but she’d compounded the crime by sleeping with an Outsider. The betrothal her father had arranged for her was broken and her family shamed.
To this day, Nadya had no idea who her father was or what he’d done when Talaitha showed up on his doorstep sixteen, pregnant and with nothing more than the clothes on her back. Obviously, he’d helped her somehow, because even though they lived on the edge of poverty, Nadya hadn’t gone hungry or homeless.
Maybe that was what her mama had left with the lawyer in Dale? Could she have left the name of her father in a letter? Was that why Nadya had to pick it up herself?
Nervousness turned the coffee in her stomach to acid as she considered the possibility. Did she even want to know who he was? Could he be someone she knew from town? She’d already worked out that he had to have been married, because his name wasn’t on her birth certificate, and Mama had never breathed a word of his identity.
Pushing down the nausea with an act of will, Nadya decided she didn’t want to know the man who’d donated his sperm so she could come into existence. Her mother had raised her to know right from wrong, to value herself for who she was on the inside and to make her own place in the world. Other than showing up for father-daughter field day at school, Nadya didn’t really see where he could have added anything to her life.
So why was she going to Georgia anyway? She could turn the car around and book a flight to the Caribbean like Sandra had said. Or she could follow her mama’s lead and just drive wherever the road took her. There was nothing for her in Dale, and there hadn’t been for over a decade.
Except there was. Her mama had left one last message to her, and she had to read it. Nadya doubted it would give her closure, but she couldn’t leave it hanging either. With any luck at all, she’d meet with the lawyer on Monday, go to probate court on Tuesday and have all the loose ends tied up and be out of Georgia by the end of the week.
Maybe she’d take an extended road trip for the remainder of her enforced vacation time. A few weeks wandering America’s byways would be a way to pay homage to her mama and take a much needed vacation all in one.
But first she had to get through Dale.
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