There were times when not having your own place was a very bad thing. Like now, for instance, when Sara sat numbly on her grandmother’s old sofa, Rocket lodged next to her hip. Gabby, Rachel, her dad, and Nonna were due back any minute from the senior center meatball competition. She didn’t want to see anybody. She just wanted to watch The Notebook and ugly cry.
She checked her phone every ten seconds, but there were no texts from Colton saying he was sorry for being an ass and couldn’t live without her. Dammit.
She was rummaging through the cupboards looking for Nonna’s Christmas Eve bottle of Crown Royal when Gabby walked in. “Nonna won the sauce contest and Rachel and Dad took her for ice cream to celebrate. And I stopped at the liquor store because Dad told me Tagg’s back and causing trouble—” Gabby took a good, hard look at Sara. “Geez, you look terrible.”
“Colton broke up with me,” she said, her voice cracking. She gave up on the liquor search and poked around in the freezer. Through the blur of tears, she saw a bunch of things wrapped up in tinfoil and labeled with masking tape with dates on it. A quick perusal showed random packages marked “2013” and “2014.” No ice cream. She shut the door.
“Did you say liquor store?”
Gabby held up a brown bag. Sara didn’t care what was in it. She’d take it.
“Oh, Sara. Maybe he just needs time—”
“He hasn’t called me to make up.” Gabby pried her phone out of her hand and set it on the kitchen table. “He’s not going to, Gabs. He broke up with me. Done. Finito. Kaput.”
“What happened?”
She took the bag from Gabby and pulled out a bottle of wine. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw his sister in the office at his request and…and I can’t really talk about it but he’s upset with me.”
“You gave her the sex talk?”
She nodded. “And other things.”
“He should be thanking you.”
“Well, he’s pissed.” She rolled the cold bottom of the wine bottle against her forehead. “Really pissed. And then Tagg was here, being an idiot, and it just snowballed. And then Colton said he wanted to call it quits. Said we’re too different. Just like that.”
“Have you had dinner?”
Sara’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “I don’t want dinner, Gabby. I want Colton.”
Gabby guided her over to Nonna’s table and pulled out a chair. As Sara glanced out the big bay window, she saw the old oak tree, steadfast and solid, but somehow it didn’t provide her with any of its usual comfort.
“Sit here,” Gabby said. “I’m going to make you something to eat, OK?”
They’d gotten used to taking care of each other after their mother died, depended on each other for comfort and confidences. Gabby’s mothering was familiar and welcome.
Gabby opened the wine and poured them each a glass in one of the many plastic cups in every color of the rainbow that filled Nonna’s cupboards.
Her sister handed her a cup, and Sara took it gratefully. Gabby had just started to crack eggs into a bowl when they heard voices coming up the walkway.
“Oh, they’re home,” Gabby said.
“Don’t say anything.” Sara wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
The door opened, and Nonna, her dad, and Rachel walked in. Nonna was clutching an old iron pot with a blue-and-white-speckled lid to her chest.
“I won first prize in the meatball contest,” she said.
“The best meatballs this side of the Mississippi,” her dad said, giving Nonna a hug.
“And there were ten other contestants,” Rachel said, looking elegant as usual in jeans and a sleeveless black blouse.
“Oh, Nonna, that’s wonderful,” Sara said, a note of false cheer in her voice. Rachel, always intuitive, looked at her a little strangely, but kept a smile on her face.
“I got a gift certificate to Giuseppe’s. So it can be my treat next time we all go.” Nonna looked at Gabby, who was beating the eggs. “Who are those for?”
“Sara. She’s feeling a little low and hasn’t had any dinner yet.”
Nonna shooed her away and took over the cooking in that way she always had. “Go, go, sit down. Sara, want some mushrooms in your omelet?”
“Anything you want, Nonna,” Sara said. She wanted nothing but Colton. That big stubborn jackass.
“Why are you feeling low?” Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Colton and I broke up.” There, she’d said it. They might as well know.
“Damn that Taggart,” her dad said. “Thinking he can come home with his tail between his legs like that and stir trouble. You’re not taking him back, are you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Oh, honey,” Rachel said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Colton’s jealous,” her father said. “That’s got to be it. He certainly didn’t appreciate Tagg showing up in the office today.”
“I have no idea why he’d feel threatened. I don’t love Tagg anymore. I don’t want Tagg anymore. I love Colton.”
“Did you tell him that?” Rachel asked.
“I tried to, but he was too busy being angry with me about seeing his sister in the office to listen.”
“I know about that visit,” her dad said, frowning a little. “The pharmacy called me about the prescription.”
She nodded. She thought her father would understand the difficulties of seeing Hannah in the office, even if they couldn’t really talk about it now in front of everyone.
He patted her knee as if she were twelve again. Kissed her forehead. “Hang in there, sweetheart.”
She attempted a smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
Rachel hugged her. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”
She squeezed Rachel’s hand. “Thanks, Rach.”
After her dad and Rachel left, Nonna served her up a perfect mushroom-and-onion omelet, and made one for Gabby too, but Sara was barely able to stomach a bite. Then they all sat on the couch, Nonna in the middle covered up with her favorite crocheted afghan, and turned on an episode of Friends, which Nonna loved.
Nonna wrapped her arm around Sara’s shoulders and Sara leaned her head against Nonna’s shoulder. She smelled like baby powder and spaghetti sauce, not a bad combination, actually.
“Nonna, where are our mom’s journals?” Gabby asked during a commercial. She tended to ask every once in a while. You never know when Nonna’s memory could be triggered, she’d say. “We’ve combed through every box in the attic.”
“In my bedroom closet,” Nonna said. “Want a meatball?”
Gabby got up and came back into the room a few minutes later with a box.
Sara saw the elated expression on Gabby’s face and threw back the afghan. “Oh my God.”
“What is that?” Nonna asked.
“It’s a box of Mom’s things. I found it exactly where you said it would be.”
Gabby set the box down and knelt on the floor to rummage through it. It was filled with bundles of computer-printed paper rubber-banded together.
“These aren’t journals,” Gabby said excitedly. “They’re stories. Typed out.”
“Oh, your mother was always writing stories, from the time she was in third grade,” Nonna said.
Gabby pulled out a fat bundle. “What kind of stories did she write, Nonna?”
“Oh, adventures with animals mostly. Kid stuff. She always did have an amazing imagination. She stopped writing once she got married, but after Rafe was born, she got back to it. She even had a writers’ group. I think she may have been writing a romance novel. You know, like that one about the girl falling in love with the priest.”
“Good God, Mom was writing a Thorn Birds story?” Sara said. “Maybe you don’t want to read that. There might be love scenes.” She made a silly gagging gesture for Gabby’s benefit.
Gabby was completely enthralled, leafing through the bundles and the notebooks. “Nonna, is it OK for me to have this? Sara, it’s all right with you, isn’t it?”
“Oh, have at it,” Sara said. It felt good to see Gabby happy. Excited about something other than Malcolm.
“Well, this was a lovely surprise,” Nonna said.
“I know!” Gabby said, grinning.
Despite her pain, Sara couldn’t help but be happy for her sister. She put a hand on her shoulder. “You always loved to write. Maybe it will give you some inspiration.” Now if only it gave Gabby some inspiration to dump that idiot Malcolm. But Sara didn’t want to ruin things by saying that.
“Just knowing Mom did this inspires me. I don’t even need to read what she wrote, although I will. Every word.”
Gabby emptied all the papers out until they were piled all around her. Then she tipped the box toward herself and reached into the bottom. “Oh my God, Sara.”
“What is it?”
She pulled out a small rectangular box wrapped in pretty pink-and-green paper, with a silver bow.
Under the bow was a tag.
Gabby exchanged glances with Sara. Sara knew Gabby was thinking the same thing she was.
Her long-lost birthday present from so long ago. Somewhere deep inside, she knew it. Even more fitting, because tomorrow was her birthday. Her eyes filled with tears yet again.
Aw, hell. As if there hadn’t been enough crying today.
Gabby handed it over. She was getting teary too.
“Open it, sweetheart,” Nonna said.
Sara flipped over the tag. Her name was written in her mother’s beautiful script, with the usual flourishes and swirls she’d used for special occasions.
“Better late than never,” Nonna, always the practical one, said.
Sara studied the perfectly wrapped package meant for her thirteen-year-old self. She was never one to carefully unwrap a present, but this one made her hesitate.
“Hurry up, I can’t stand it!” Gabby said.
Sara smiled a little. If Evie were here, she’d make Sara wait until the whole family was present, but there was no way she was doing that. She put her finger under a seam to start tearing the paper but stopped herself. Like a piece in a museum, this package seemed almost as if it shouldn’t be touched. And certainly shouldn’t be ruined.
She carefully pulled up the tape without tearing the paper. Almost immediately she could tell it was a book.
Her vision blurred. Then, without thinking, she ripped into the rest of the paper. Her mother wouldn’t have wanted her to treat it like a museum piece.
It was a copy of Pride and Prejudice. A collector’s copy, the kind with gilt edges. A special edition that had the original text on one side of every page and footnotes explaining all kinds of things on the other.
Her mom had known how much that book meant to her. She’d bought her a copy that would allow her to fully learn every last detail. The perfect gift.
“Open it,” Gabby said.
Sara stilled with her hand on the cover. She knew what she’d find when she opened it. Every book their mother had given them had been inscribed by her at the front.
“My sweet girl,” the inscription read. “Welcome to your teenage years! A wonderful, scary time. Just a warning, there will probably be a Wickham or two to deal with before Darcy comes along. My wish for you is to know the difference. Love always, Mom.”
Oh, Mom. A landslide of tears hit her, not just for the beautiful gift but also because her mother’s message seemed so spot-on in an eerie way. She wanted to cry out to her mother that she did know the difference! It had taken her over ten years, but by God, she knew. Too bad that when she’d finally figured it out, her Darcy had flown the coop.
“Colton’s your Darcy,” Gabby said.
“You’re such a romantic,” Sara said, rolling her eyes.
“He’s liked you for a long time, Sara,” Nonna said.
“You’re thinking of Tagg, Nonna,” Gabby said gently. “We’re talking about Colton.”
“I love Colton,” Nonna said with a sigh. “Such a nice man.”
Sara felt tears coming on again. He was a nice man. He took care of Nonna and his own grandmother and everyone in town. He’d stood up for her to her dad and shown up at her family dinner and handled all the craziness really well. She thought of how he’d taken off her glasses so carefully, setting them on the nightstand, and kissing her. Yeah, he’d loved her for who she was, all right. Or at least she’d thought it was love.
And she loved him in a way she’d never loved Tagg. Tagg had given her validation that being smart was OK. He’d been a shield of sorts for her to hide behind during those years when she wasn’t confident enough in herself. But he wasn’t the one. Not the right one.
No, the right one was a man who at the beginning couldn’t have been more wrong. She’d gone from hating him to loving him. What a fine line that was, between love and hate.
“Are you all right?” Gabby asked, because sure enough, Sara’s eyes were leaking again.
“Gabby,” Sara said, wiping her eyes and leaning forward so Gabby would know what she was about to say was important. Her words came out shaky. “Don’t marry a man who doesn’t treat you like you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to him. Because if I learned one thing from all of this, it was that Tagg could always take me or leave me. But with Colton, I thought…Well. I clearly don’t have it all figured out, but…”
“I get it,” Gabby said, putting her hands up. “I get what you’re saying.”
“Don’t ever marry a man who doesn’t look at you like you’re chocolate ice cream,” Nonna said out of nowhere.
“Chocolate ice cream,” Sara said, smiling through her tears.
“Perfect,” Gabby said, laughing.
“I wish I had some of that,” Nonna said.
Gabby rose from the floor and stepped around all the piles of paper. “I’m going to run and get us some.”
“Get the half-gallon size,” Sara called after her.
“Hurry back so we can watch more of the Friends,” Nonna said.
Sara leaned back against the couch and linked her arm with Nonna’s. Maybe Nonna didn’t always get the facts right, but she was still very, very wise.
* * *
“Hey, babycakes.” Carmen’s voice blasting through the police radio on Colton’s desk startled him awake. “I’m coming in there.”
Colton bolted upright. His neck had a crick, his back ached, and his left leg was asleep. Champ’s tags jingled as he shook himself awake too. The smell of police station coffee, strong and a little burnt, reached him through the door. He rubbed his neck and tried to pretend he hadn’t spent the entire night at his desk.
Carmen walked in, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. She was wearing a bright-orange sleeveless blouse, print pants with yellow pineapples on them, and hot pink pumps. It was hard not to be wide awake after looking at her.
“Carmen, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be dispatching from the sheriff’s office today.”
“First, Maggie Nelson brought these in to say thank you for rescuing Dolly the other day.” She waved them under his nose. “They’re delicious, by the way. Second, I went out of my way to tell you to your sweet baby face personally that you’re making a big mistake with Sara and to get your head out of your ass.”
“How do you know anything about my personal life?”
“Tagg’s mother told everyone what happened at the Angel Statue Preservation Society meeting this morning. Apparently she’s rooting for her son to get back together with Sara.”
He sighed. “Thank you, Carmen. You can go to work now.”
“Did you sleep in those clothes? You look terrible.”
He sent her a glare. The best he could do right now. Maybe if he didn’t talk much she’d go the hell away.
Wishful thinking, because she parked her butt in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I watched you grow from a cocky kid who was angry at everybody to a kind, gentle guy who watches out for every single citizen in this town. You hold your head high, Chief.” Her voice cracked a little. She shook her finger at him emphatically, her bright-fuchsia polish sparkling. “Don’t you let someone move in on your life who doesn’t have half the integrity you do. Even if he does have double the degrees.”
“And a better car,” Evan said from the other room.
Colton scrubbed a hand over his head. “When did everybody get to be Dear Abby around here?” Still, he felt a warm little tightening in his chest.
Evan appeared in the doorway. “Hey, someone’s here to see you, Chief.” He lowered his voice. “It’s that kid you gave the painting job to.”
Carmen leaned over, grabbed Colton’s chin, and shook it. “Think about what I said. Sara’s too good to let her get away.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he said as she headed out the door. He was only half kidding. “Hey, Carmen,” he called after her.
“Yes?” she asked, turning around.
“Seriously, thanks. I…appreciate your concern.”
She grinned. “No problem, boss.” She blew him a kiss as she left and patted Aiden on the shoulder as she passed him in the doorway.
Colton managed to grab a slug of his coffee before he told the kid to take a seat.
“So, Aiden,” he said, leaning back in his seat and tenting his fingers. Where to begin? The paint job looks terrific. Now get the hell away from my sister.
Aiden had taken a ball cap off his head and was holding it to his chest. He looked contrite and humble—and nervous. But Colton didn’t fall for that kind of thing easily.
As soon as the kid plopped into a chair, Colton said, “Look, Aiden, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s get a few things straight.” He was going to get the upper hand on this. Attack the problem head-on. Make it clear where he stood in terms of Hannah. Which was, he didn’t really want him near her but it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to stop them. But he could scare the shit out of Aiden. That might help. It would at least make him feel better.
Colton felt a sudden burning in his chest. Heartburn. He choked it down with a slug of coffee, probably not the best remedy.
“Before you start, I want to tell you I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, Chief,” the kid said. “And I came to show you this.”
Colton wondered if the kid was being a kiss-ass. Aiden was smart enough to know when he was in trouble and clever enough to wheedle his way out of it. Colton might have tried the same back in the day. One look in Aiden’s eyes as he handed over a long envelope showed Colton otherwise. The kid looked eager. Proud. He was also shifting nervously in the chair. What in the world?
Colton pulled out an official-looking piece of paper. He took a minute to skim it. It was a letter of acceptance to the electrician program at the local technical college.
Well, I’ll be. The kid had followed through. Applied and gotten in. And looked damn proud of it.
“I start in the fall,” Aiden said. Despite his tough appearance, he was practically beaming.
Colton sat forward. The kid was grinning broadly. Colton couldn’t help breaking into a grin too.
“Congratulations,” Colton said. “Wow. I mean, this is great.”
“I owe it all to you, Chief.”
“You got the grades, Aiden. You got yourself in.”
“When I interviewed, the guy told me you’d personally put in a good word for me. I’ll never forget how you helped me.”
Aw, geez. This was killing him. The kid really meant it.
He stood up. “Look, Hannah told me you were upset about us. I didn’t tell you about me and Hannah because I knew you wouldn’t approve. I want you to know I’d never hurt her or mistreat her. I-I love her, sir. Hannah’s…amazing.”
There went his heartburn again. But somehow, the pain wasn’t so bad. He couldn’t not like this kid, who reminded him so much of himself. Who had so much potential. Who’d been dealt a shitty hand but was trying to overcome that. All he needed was a little bit of help.
“I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me. I’m going to do good, you’ll see.”
Colton put down the letter. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to find the right words.
“I expect you to keep working until your community service hours are done,” Colton said. “That will take the rest of the summer.”
“Will do.”
“And I expect you to turn in all your grades to me from school—as part of your court supervision, of course. No slacking, right?”
“Absolutely.” The kid was grinning widely now.
“And if you ever hurt my sister I will personally kick your ass, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
He knit his brows down low. “And if you ever encourage her to get a tattoo I will come find you, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
He escorted the kid out, wrapping his arm around him and squeezing his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time he’d ever called anyone son. It reminded him oddly of Chief McGregor, who had seemed ancient when Colton was a teenager but who probably hadn’t been much older than he was at the time.
The kid flushed and shook his head, a little embarrassed. Colton slapped his back and sent him on his way.
As he walked back to his desk, his eye caught the framed picture of Chief McGregor with his three buddies that hung on the wall. The buddy in the middle was his dad, whose smiling face looked up at him through time.
Colton wasn’t his dad. He had to live his own life his own way. But he liked to think his dad would be proud that he’d become an officer and was serving their hometown.
Colton hadn’t exactly chosen this job, but it suited him. Every once in a while, he was able to do some good. Besides, he loved it. Especially on days like this when something actually went right.
So maybe he wasn’t saving lives, not the way Sara and Tagg did, anyway, but he’d built himself a place here, a life. Made a few people smile. Listened to their complaints. Tried to alleviate their worries and make their town safe. Saved their dogs when they were roaming loose. Not such a bad job after all.
He’d messed up with Sara. And he hadn’t spoken honestly with her. He’d let things get in the way, like Tagg and the feeling he’d harbored that he was somehow not as good as Tagg. He’d been afraid of her slipping out of his fingers, thinking she wouldn’t want to stay here in this town, but had he actually asked her what she wanted?
Maybe it was time to let her know how he felt. And maybe he really was right where he belonged.