Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(45)
Author: Catherine Bybee

While Lillianna sat beside Dakota asking about her characters, about her books, Sis and Carol Ann were on their cell phones. Before Dakota could say the South will rise again a group of people were walking into the bookstore and heading straight toward her.

After Dakota signed her fifth book, she waved Sis over to the table. “You planned this.”

Sis smiled at the woman in line and said, “Last-minute change in plans. I knew this would cheer you up.”

In the twenty minutes they’d been in the bookstore, Dakota hadn’t thought of Walt, or her pregnancy. Here she was simply Dakota Laurens, Romance Author, with a few books sold under her belt.

Lillianna brought out a box, inside was a stockpile of Dakota’s titles.

OK, maybe more like a few million copies.

Sis started to walk away and Dakota tugged her into the chair Lillianna had vacated to man the cash register.

“Not sure where you’re headed, Sis. I need an assistant and I dub you.”

Sis rubbed her hands together and wiggled her ass in the chair. “Tell me what to do.”

Dakota greeted the next lady in line with a smile and showed Sis where to open each book up to and scoot them over to make sure they kept the line moving. When someone asked to take a picture, Dakota brushed on more makeup and lipstick and painted on a smile.

A few familiar faces dotted the line, making Dakota smile a little larger and add a snarky line to the signature page.

“It’s not for me, of course.” A woman in her late sixties informed her.

“Naturally. Who shall I make it out to?”

The woman stared, blinked, and stared some more.

“No worries, I’ll just sign it and skip the name.”

“Bless your heart.”

Oh, the South. Who couldn’t fall a little in love with the slow living and facade of polite tolerance of blatant lies?

“Dakota!”

“Missy?”

Missy had been a close friend up until their junior year. Dakota couldn’t remember what catfight made them pull apart, but they had one. Missy held the hand of a toddler in pink and an infant in blue bundled in a car seat. “Look at you.”

“When I heard you were here, I had to run. No time for a sitter.”

“It’s OK.”

Dakota looked at the pigtailed toddler, her curly brown hair and big blue eyes were the spitting image of her mother. How often had their own mothers placed them in similar dresses? Dakota smiled. “And what’s your name?”

“Dana.”

Dakota offered a wink and glanced at the car seat and the tiny bundle within. She swallowed, felt her smile slide. “And what’s your brother’s name?”

“His name is Nicholas. He cries a lot.”

“Is that right?” Nicholas had a tuft of light brown hair on his head, his eyes the same color of blue as his sister’s.

Dakota found herself reaching for the baby and stopped herself. “Your children are beautiful.”

“Thank you, darlin’. They are my pride. Do you have pictures of yours?”

Dakota dropped a hand in her lap. “I’m . . . I don’t . . .”

Sis kicked in. “Dakota doesn’t have children, Missy.”

“Oh.” Missy’s sympathy was palpable. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure the right man will come around.” Then, as if she knew she was bringing up a harsh subject, she launched into a diversion. “Just look at you. I’ve followed your books ever since Carol Ann brought yours to our book club.”

They caught up for a short time until Sis helped Missy along so the next woman in line could have her book signed.

Dakota agreed they should see each other before she left, but knew they probably would meet up again when Dana was in high school.

When the line died down, Dakota signed the last of Lillianna’s supply and made her excuses.

Carol Ann and Sis walked with her out into the parking lot. “That was fun.”

Carol Ann wove her arm through Dakota’s. “I’m proud of you. My famous sister.”

“I’m not famous.”

Sis laughed. “No one was asking for our autographs.”

“Write a hot book and that might change,” Dakota said.

Once Carol Ann and Dakota were on their way home, Dakota asked, “What happened to Louise?”

“Oh, she left after Missy showed up. Those two—”

“That’s right. I remember now. I hope they grow out of the gossip and scandal stage of life.”

Carol Ann rolled her eyes. “Seems the older they get the more covert they become, but honestly, they spread more bunk than they did in school.”

“That’s too bad.” Gossip was the favorite pastime of a small town. Although their town wasn’t all that short on people, everyone knew everyone. “Is Tommy still a two-timing prick?”

Carol Ann gasped. “Dakota!”

“Well . . . is he?”

It took her sister half a breath to confirm. “I’ve heard rumors.”

“I thought so. I’d rather be single than put up with that.”

“Is that what happened between you and him?”

She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t like that.” For the first time since she’d arrived in South Carolina, Dakota opened up to her sister. “I thought everything was great. We would juggle our schedules, meet at each other’s place . . . then he just stopped calling.”

“No argument?”

“Nothing. I liked him, Carol Ann. I hurt when he left.”

“I’m sure there have been others that hurt.”

“Not like him.” Walt left a gaping hole and a whole lot more.

Dakota’s childhood home screamed the South much like Walt’s echoed the West. The tall columns and plantation shutters were just the start of his observations. The two-story house sat on at least an acre of manicured land. The front porch had a bench with plush pillows. He would bet money the back of the house would have rocking chairs and a vast expanse of grass where children would run around at Easter collecting colorful eggs.

Walt couldn’t help but wonder if his child would have memories of his or her grandparents’ home.

He walked past the rental car in the circular drive. Was she inside? Would she answer the door?

Walt looked at the bench with renewed interest. He might be sleeping on that bench. A light rain started to fall as he jogged up the steps, when he laid his knuckles to the back of the door and stood back.

Walt didn’t imagine Dakota’s mother would have blonde hair and a touch of Botox around her eyes. Mrs. Laurens stood tall, a questioning smile on her face. “Can I help you?” Her Southern accent reminded him of Dakota.