26
“You’ll come again soon, won’t you?”
At her mom’s anxious question, Paige exchanged a glance with Andrew.
“Yes, we will.” He joined her beside the hospital bed. “If our work schedules allow, we’ll stay for a long weekend.”
“I’d like that. Wouldn’t you, Warren?”
Paige looked across the white sheet that covered her mother to where her dad stood on the other side of the bed.
“Yes.” He took Mom’s hand. “The room will be theirs whenever they want it.”
Grateful as she was that Dad had begun to mend his fences with Andrew and for his attempt to converse at dinner last night, he hadn’t said a word to her directly about all the heartache between the two of them. Nor offered an apology.
But perhaps that would come eventually. Her father had held his emotions close to his vest in the best of times, and the two of them were only just beginning to emerge from a very rocky stretch.
In the meantime, his actions spoke volumes about his change of heart.
“You’ll be careful going back?” Mom reached for her hand. Gave it a squeeze.
“Yes. Andrew’s an excellent driver. I’ll text Dad after we arrive.” She bent down and kissed her mom’s forehead. “I’ll call you later tonight too.”
“Hearing your voice will help my recovery more than any medicine the doctors prescribe.”
Paige straightened up. “Goodbye, Dad.”
“Safe travels.”
Andrew said his goodbyes too, and as they skirted the bed and walked toward the exit, the murmur of conversation followed them, too soft to decipher.
As they were about to step into the hall, her father spoke.
“I’ll walk with you to the elevator.”
Paige swiveled toward him as he exchanged a look with Mom and joined them at the door.
What was that all about?
He followed them down the hall, pausing at the door to the waiting room. “You may each want to take a coffee to go. It will keep you alert on the drive. We were all up at the crack of dawn.”
That was true, but until she had something more substantial in her stomach than the piece of toast she’d wolfed down at the house this morning, any more coffee would play havoc with her stomach. And Andrew had already downed a gallon of the stuff.
She opened her mouth to dismiss the suggestion, but Andrew took her hand and spoke first. “That’s not a bad idea.” His next comment was directed to her. “I’ll get the truck while you fix our coffee. You can meet me outside the main entrance after your dad sees you off at the elevator.”
The message in his eyes was clear.
He was giving her and Dad a few minutes alone, in case her father wanted to say anything to her in private before she left.
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll be down fast.”
After telling her father goodbye again, Andrew veered left in the hall toward the elevators while she and Dad entered the empty waiting room.
Her father didn’t speak as she prepared an unwanted cup of coffee for herself and one for Andrew.
Apparently he wasn’t going to take the opening Andrew had provided.
But maybe the conversation between the two men yesterday in the kitchen was a sufficient start. From what Andrew had told her about it, the exchange had been difficult for Dad.
Stifling her disappointment, she snapped on plastic lids. She ought to be satisfied with the progress that had been made. There would be other opportunities down the road for her and Dad to mend their fences.
She turned toward her father. “This should set us up for the trip. Thank you again for dinner last night and for making us feel welcome. Especially Andrew.”
Dad fiddled with the zipper on his father’s jacket. “I’d like to get to know him better.”
“I’d like that too. I think you’ll be impressed.” When her father didn’t respond, she reached for the cups. “I should go. We have a full week ahead of us and—”
“What your mom said yesterday about me missing you . . . that was true.”
She stopped. Looked over at him.
“I never really thought you’d walk out that day six years ago.” He zipped the jacket up to his neck, his tone subdued. “But you called my bluff. Then I thought you’d realize you’d made a mistake and come home. But you didn’t. And as time passed, it was harder and harder to figure out how to reconnect. I’ve never been good at admitting mistakes.”
Yet he was admitting one now, at what had to be a high cost. The only thing Warren Reynolds had had left after his father died was the pride he’d always guarded and the iron will that had seen him through more adversity than most people ever faced. They’d been his defenses against the world. Allowing either to crack would have left him vulnerable to hurt and rejection.
Which put a whole different spin on his reaction the day she’d walked out, given the story he’d told her yesterday. Her departure must have felt like a replay of the nightmare with his father. Yes, she was still alive, but he could easily have interpreted her choice to marry Andrew against his wishes, to leave the safe and secure world he’d worked hard to create for her, as rejection and abandonment.
Vision misting, she touched the sleeve of his worn, tattered jacket. “I just want us to get back together, Dad. I love you and Mom. I appreciate all you both have done for me, and I know you always wanted what was best for me. I’m sorry we didn’t agree in the end about what that was, but maybe we can start fresh.”
“That would make your mother happy. Me too.” He straightened up. “I should get back to her.”
“And Andrew will be waiting.” She hesitated. Dad had never been much into physical affection. That had always been Mom’s purview. Her father had demonstrated his love in more practical ways—working hard to provide a comfortable life for them, planning family vacations each summer and driving her and Mom all over the country, helping her with gnarly math homework. The hugs he’d dispensed had been few and far between, and always stiff. Usually they’d been initiated by her.
But he’d loved her the best way he knew how.
And thanks to Mom’s influence, she was a hugger.
Throwing caution to the wind, she stepped closer and slid her arms around him.
For a moment he froze. And then he wrapped her in the awkward embrace she’d missed for six long years and gave her a squeeze.
“I love you, Dad. Take care of Mom.” She spoke the words against his chest.
“I will.” His voice hoarsened.
After a couple more seconds, he disengaged and turned aside to pick up her coffee. “I’ll carry these to the elevator for you. It will be hard to press the button with both hands occupied.”
She gave him the space he needed to get his emotions under control.
Truth be told, she could use a few moments too.
He followed her into the hall and to the elevators, waiting until she was inside and had pressed the button for the lobby before handing her the two cups.
As the doors began to slide shut, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and met her gaze. “I love you, Paige. Always have. Always will.”
Throat clogging, she sniffed as the doors closed and the elevator began its descent.
But another door had opened.
And God willing, it would never shut again.
The taco stand was open for business.
C. S. Lewis book in hand, Matt left his car behind and strode toward the food trailer beside the pocket park on the wharf.
Charley raised a hand in greeting as he approached. “You must have been reading my mind. I was going to swing by the inn today and ask if I’d left a book there when I drove Eleanor and Methuselah over on Friday.”
“Yes, you did.” Matt lifted the bag. “I’ve been stopping by the stand every day since, but the window was shuttered. Sorry you had to do without your book for four days.”
“No worries. It wasn’t for me. I bought it for a friend. It’s hard to go wrong with C. S. Lewis if a person is in need of deep insights on any number of subjects.”
“This is chock-full of them.” Matt handed over the bag. “I hope you don’t mind, but I read through it. More than once. I was careful not to bend the spine or leave fingerprints, though.” He called up a smile.
“I’m delighted you found it worthwhile. I’ve always considered that particular volume to be especially perceptive. Probably because Lewis was writing from raw personal experience.”
“It does have some excellent insights.” Only someone who’d been there would know that grief was a long, winding valley, where any bend could reveal a new landscape. Or that sorrow was a process, not a state of mind.
“Yes. Lots of food for thought, no question about it.” Charley tucked the bag under the serving counter. “Speaking of food, can I interest you in an order of tacos before the lunch rush hits?”
“I’d like to say yes, but I have to confess that I ate a huge chunk of Eleanor’s fudge cake for breakfast. That will hold me to dinner or beyond.”
“I’ve been known to overindulge on her cake too, though rarely for breakfast.” Flashing him a smile, Charley picked up a rag and wiped the pristine counter. “How’s Vienna these days? I haven’t seen much of her.”
“She’s meeting herself coming and going trying to get the inn ready for the opening.”
“I can imagine. When will Kay be back?”
“Not soon enough.” He gave Charley a quick recap of the change in plans. “We’re lucky Vienna was willing to take the lead on the opening.”
“She strikes me as a very competent and dedicated woman.”
“I’d say that’s a spot-on description.”
“Will she be on her own for the opening? Aren’t you leaving soon?”
“I’ve extended my stay so she won’t have to go it alone.”
“That was kind of you.” Two seagulls fluttered down near the food trailer, and Charley leaned out the serving window to take a gander at them. “I see my feathered friends have decided to drop in.”
“No. Floyd and Gladys aren’t moochers. They’re romantics. Did you know seagulls mate for life?”
“No. I’m not an avian specialist.”
“They’re fascinating creatures. Floyd lost his first partner and mourned her for a long time. He was a pathetic figure. A shadow of his former self. Then he met Gladys and got a new lease on life.”
Matt eyed the two seagulls snuggled up together on the pavement a few yards away, their attention fixed on him. “I’m glad his story had a happy ending. Not everyone’s does. And not everyone deserves one, if they’ve made mistakes.” Frowning, he turned his back on the lovey-dovey twosome. Why had he made such a revealing comment? Charley didn’t know his history. Only Vienna was privy to his darkest secrets.
“I don’t know.” Charley rested his forearms on the counter and leaned down, bringing him closer to eye level. “To err is human, as they say. God doesn’t hold our mistakes against us. He knows humans are an imperfect species. And mistakes aren’t an intentional infliction of injury, which is a different matter altogether. So why should we hold them against ourselves? In truth, expecting perfection may be a bit arrogant. Only God is perfect.” He straightened up and motioned in the direction of Dockside Drive. “Maybe our Hope Harbor clerics can weigh in on this theological discussion.”
Matt angled toward the street.
Father Murphy and Reverend Baker, dressed in golf shirts and slacks, were approaching from a few feet away.
“I’m at your service for help with any theological questions.” Father Murphy gave a mock bow as he stopped beside the food trailer.
Reverend Baker’s lips twitched. “Based on all the time he spent on the course today battling through the rough, digging himself out of sand traps, slicing the ball, and missing putts, he may be your man if the question is about accepting our imperfections.”
“Ha. This from the man who hooked his first tee shot so badly it wound up on the adjacent fairway.” The padre rolled his eyes.
“I was just getting warmed up.”
“Then how do you explain your encore on the ninth hole?”
“That was a fluke.” Reverend Baker gave a dismissive wave and shifted his attention to Charley. “I only caught the end of your comment, but from a theological perspective, I concur with what you said. Mistakes by definition are innocent, made without malice. God doesn’t expect us to be perfect. All he expects is that we do our best.”
“For once I agree with my clerical counterpart,” Father Murphy chimed in. “Too many people carry heavy burdens of guilt over mistakes, and that can snuff the joy from the glorious gift of life God has blessed us with. A life he wants us to live fully and without regret.”
“Well said.” The minister gave an approving nod.
“I knew you men of the cloth would shed light on this topic.” Charley adjusted his Ducks cap. “I’m glad you played golf today and wandered by, but what happened to your standing Thursday date? Tuesday is out of pattern for you.”
Father Murphy grimaced and hooked a thumb toward his companion. “Blame it on my friend here. He volunteered us as drivers for a youth group outing on Thursday that our churches are jointly sponsoring.”
“Where are you going?” Charley tossed a scrap of fish to Floyd and Gladys.
As the banter continued around him, Matt sneaked a peek at his watch. He had more walls to paint, and with the finish line for the project looming, it was wise to stick close in case Andrew needed a hand with anything.
At the first opportunity, he jumped back into the conversation. “It was nice to see all of you, but I have to get back to the inn. The grand reopening is approaching at warp speed.”
“By all means. Don’t let us hold you up. If you have any other theological questions, give me a ring.” Father Murphy winked at him.
“I’ll do that.”
The three continued to chat as he dug out his keys and hustled back toward his car.
While there was plenty to keep him busy at the inn, if Vienna had a few spare minutes this afternoon, maybe he’d try to coax her into a quick coffee break by bribing her with another piece of Eleanor’s fudge cake. That would be a pleasant interlude to—
“Matt!”
At the summons, he stopped beside his car and glanced across Dockside Drive.
Paige waved at him and hurried over.
At this rate he was never going to get back to the inn.
“I’m glad I ran into you.” She stopped in front of him, a tad out of breath. “I just got off my shift at the Myrtle, and I have a few errands to run in town for Andrew’s birthday. It’s tomorrow.”
That was news.
“I’m glad you told me.” He’d have to detour and pick up a card at Bev’s Book Nook before he headed back.
But the timing on the birthday couldn’t have been more ideal. While Andrew would likely have refused a bonus at the end of the job, it would be harder to say no to a birthday gift. So he’d tuck a check inside the card, along with a slip of paper that would be an even better present.
“I wouldn’t have under normal circumstances, but with all of us living under the same roof, it would be hard to keep it a secret. Especially since I’d like to surprise him with a special breakfast. I wanted to ask if it would be okay for me to use the kitchen early in the morning for longer than usual.”
“Have at it. I’m not doing any cooking, and Vienna never has more than a bagel and coffee.”
“I was hoping the two of you might join us. It would be more festive and party-like.”
“Are you certain you wouldn’t rather have a private meal? Vienna and I wouldn’t mind making ourselves scarce.”
“No. I’d like you both to be there.”
“In that case, count me in. I’m sure Vienna will accept too. But don’t you have to be at the Myrtle?”
“I switched with someone on the afternoon shift tomorrow. Is seven too early for breakfast? I know Andrew wants to keep pushing through on the inn.”
“That’s fine.”
“If you could let Vienna know, I’d appreciate it. I’m afraid Andrew might walk in on me talking to her about it at the inn.”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Thanks. Now I have groceries to buy.” With a wave and a sunny smile, she hurried toward the truck, parked farther down Dockside Drive.
Interesting that she’d arrived back from Portland last night upbeat and glowing despite her mother’s health issues. Perhaps, if there had been an estrangement with her family, they’d repaired the rift.
Too bad he couldn’t tap into a little of her good cheer.
He turned back to his car and slid behind the wheel for the short trip to Bev’s Book Nook, mulling over his funk.
The source wasn’t hard to identify.
Vienna.
She hadn’t exactly seemed overjoyed Sunday when he’d told her he was considering relocating to Hope Harbor. Nor had she answered his question about whether she found the town appealing.
And she hadn’t brought up the topic yesterday either.
It was possible, of course, that she’d been discombobulated by his bombshell.
Truth be told, it was still kind of shocking to him too. But perhaps it was time to make peace with his guilt and to accept that while his grief would be always with him, it was okay to start looking to the future instead of dwelling in the shadows of the past. To embrace the glorious gift of life Father Murphy had referenced. To welcome joy back into his world. To open his heart to love again.
And perhaps it was time to tell Vienna all of that too.