Nightchild

Chapter 40

Flying down the highway with the top down, wind whipping gold and copper threaded hair about her face and shoulders, the radio thundering music so loud thought was almost impossible, Blythe Stevens was conscious of the searing sensation of freedom. The old song was right, she thought, freedom was just another word for nothing left to lose. But that wasn't so bad, not caring...not being afraid all the time of being hurt. She realized now just how much she'd been under the mesmerizing power of Nathan Wade Stevens these last months, to the point of being dangerously close to giving up her own identity, of being obsequious. Rene had said it and it was the truth, she was a fool.

Leaning back in the seat, its leather rubbing gently against the leather of her jacket with a supple squeak, Blythe put her foot down hard against the pedal, relishing the surge of excitement that swelled inside her as the car sped forward, propelling her ever closer to her home, ever closer to her past.

It was just after noon when she arrived in Ringwald, vaguely disappointed the drive was over so quickly and growing more insecure by the second about her decision to come. She wheeled into the local dairy bar on the outskirts of town, ordered a soft drink, which was brought quickly by the ubiquitous ponytailed teenager with blemished face, then steered the car toward Main Street.

The town had weathered the last two decades quite well and Blythe was surprised to see it was virtually unchanged. Stores had been renovated to their original state and a few newer shops had been built in their quaint style. The street itself had a new coat of asphalt with freshly painted yellow lines splitting it down the middle.

Parking in front of the old drugstore, she got out, not yet ready to make the trip to the far end of town where her brother resided in the old family estate. She wanted to explore first, refamiliarize herself gradually with the past before plunging headlong into it. Walking up the sidewalk, she heard her name called out and turning was startled to see an older Scott Weber crossing the road and coming towards her.

Scott was her brother's age, a year or so older than Nate, and Blythe was glad to find that the years had been kind to him. He still swaggered, ever so subtly, his chestnut hair, wisped now with a yellowish gray, topped the finely boned head that cocked familiarly to the side. Yet, he was no longer the slim, wiry youth that had teased and cajoled her so incessantly as a little girl, causing her heart to pound uncontrollably whenever he strutted into a room.

Instead, he was a man of middle age who, though heavier, carried his weight well. He was firm and athletic, his golden skin still sprinkled with freckles that gave him an uncanny youthful appearance. The eyes were the same pale green that Blythe remembered, only now creases ran from the corners, adding character to the already handsome all-American face. A white veterinarian coat was thrown haphazardly open over a plaid shirt and a necktie hung loosely under its collar. A pair of baggy trousers dropped to argyle-socked feet casually clad in Hushpuppies.

Smiling, Blythe reflected that he'd be the perfect subject for a Rockwell painting of a small town vet. But, after all, he'd always been perfect in her eyes and some things never changed.

"Scott," she greeted warmly, not sure how to react and irritated with herself that he could still make her so nervous and self-conscious, like a schoolgirl, after all these years.

Ignoring the hand she held rigidly out to him, Scott picked her up in strong arms, giving her a bear hug she feared would crush the life from her before he finally set her unstably back on her feet. "Damn, it's good seeing you again! You haven't changed one iota...except for being more beautiful. You've ripened into a woman."

"And you," Blythe said, drawing back, making a show of surveying him, "are a man who sounds like he's patronizing an aging woman."

"Gentry Blythe, you always were a terror to get along with...always havin' to say exactly what was on your pretty little mind."