by Olivia Miles
And now, it was all within reach again. If he could just make sure that resort was built.
6
The next morning, Amelia took her time inspecting her closet, even though she didn’t exactly love anything she saw. With great reluctance, she went down the steps that led from her deck to the patio and tapped on the door of Maddie’s garden unit apartment. She glanced at the vegetable garden while she waited, knowing that she’d have to pick some of those tomatoes before they over-ripened. She’d put a tomato and mozzarella salad on the menu for tomorrow night. The basil plant that sat on her kitchen window ledge was due for a clipping.
Still, when the door opened, she quickly forgot all about the café. She was here on a mission. And she suddenly felt like it wasn’t one she could see through.
Opening a business? That was easy. But putting yourself out there—emotionally—that was something different. Foreign. And a little scary.
“Can I borrow something to wear for the day?” She didn’t know why she was ringing her hands. It was a normal thing for sisters to do, after all. Cora and Maddie used to swap clothes all the time growing up. It was just not normal for her.
Sure enough, Maddie looked at her suspiciously. “You don’t have any clean clothes? But you always do laundry on Sundays.”
True, she usually did, except that last night she’d been too busy being pampered at the salon.
“I was hoping to try on that yellow sundress you wore recently. The one with the scoop neck?”
Now Maddie’s expression changed to one of interest. “To grocery shop and make menu lists?” she asked, referring to Amelia’s typical Monday routine.
Amelia should have known her sister wouldn’t make this easy for her. She sighed. “Fine. If you must know, I’m spending part of the day showing Matt around town.”
“Showing him around town? But he lived here for the first eighteen years of his life.”
“And he hasn’t been back in twelve,” Amelia said. When it came out like that, she realized just how much time had passed—how much life had been lived, how many experiences had happened. Not that she’d had many. The days had rolled along, peacefully enough, but she couldn’t really pinpoint anything exciting that had happened other than opening her café.
Her pride and joy.
“I’m going to be working when I’m done,” Amelia said. She did need to get work done, and while the café may be closed to the public on Mondays, she was never off duty.
“And what if Matt invites you to dinner? And then dinner turns into drinks? And then drinks turn into…” Maddie waggled her eyebrows, and Amelia sighed heavily, pushing past her into the small hallway of Maddie’s apartment that together they had painted the softest shade of blue. She was officially calling upon her role as Landlady now.
“The dress is in my closet and you are free to borrow it,” Maddie said.
Amelia smiled at her, thankful that this little game was now over. “Thank you.”
But from the gleam in Maddie’s eyes, she wasn’t quite finished yet. Her lips twisted into a coy grin as she leaned against the doorjamb to her bedroom, blocking Amelia’s entry.
“If.”
Amelia stared at her. “If?”
“If you promise to come back here and tell me everything that happened when you return the dress.”
Considering that Maddie was bound to drag every last detail from her regardless, Amelia saw no point in refusing.
“You have a deal. I’ll tell you every last juicy tidbit.”
Not that she expected there to be any. Really, she didn’t know what to expect. And that was very nerve-racking.
She left Maddie’s apartment with the dress in hand and hurried back upstairs in time to change and pull her hair back into a ponytail. Then, thinking the better of it, she pulled out the elastic band and let her hair fall loose at her shoulders.
Before she could over think it further, she grabbed her canvas tote, slipped into some comfortable sandals that showed off her freshly painted pink toenails, and walked to the front door with a pounding heart.
Matt was standing at the base of her steps when she stepped outside, feeling harried and flushed, even though it was early still and the breeze off the lake was cool.
“Hey, you,” he said, jamming his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He was standing beside a bicycle that he had clearly rented in town—the aqua blue color was a dead giveaway. “It’s a nice day. You up for a ride?”
Amelia was happy that the yellow sundress had a full enough skirt, so she wouldn’t have to change into something from her closet—or worse—knock on Maddie’s door again.
She glanced back at Maddie’s windows as she walked toward the bike rack at the side of the house, just in time to see the curtains quickly pulled shut.
She grinned wryly. Really! Was it such a big deal that she had a date today?
Sadly, it was. And sadly, this may not be a date at all. It was just two old friends. Going for a ride.
“I brought us breakfast,” Matt said, picking up a bag from the front basket of his bike.
Amelia laughed. “I don’t think I’ve had someone else cook me breakfast in—” In longer than she should admit, especially to an old boyfriend. Yes, she might run her own café, and she might cook better than most people in this town, but she didn’t need to reveal how seldom it was that a guy came along and did something nice for her, and no, she didn’t think her father counted.
“Oh, I didn’t cook anything,” Matt clarified. He opened the bag to reveal an assortment of bagels and a few containers of cream cheese. “Jackson buys these by the dozen at that deli over in Pine Falls. I didn’t think he’d notice if a few were missing.”
She laughed. “I love bagels. And I haven’t been to Pine Falls in forever.” It was where Candy had grown up, just the next town south, and Amelia realized just how insular her world had become. How she’d accepted a long time ago that Blue Harbor was where she was needed and where she would remain.
She looked at Matt. His hair was tousled, rustling in the breeze, and his eyes were warm and kind and as blue as the lake water. She’d stopped thinking about what she was missing. Until now.
“Maybe we could stop down near the waterfront? Have a little picnic? I’d suggest we grab coffee along the way, but I believe your café is closed.” His grin made her heart pick up speed.
“The grocery store sells coffee,” Amelia reminded him. It might not be as good as what she made, but it would do. Besides, for once, she didn’t care how her coffee tasted. She just cared that she was here, with Matt, and that she hadn’t felt this alive since she was a kid.
They rode along the path toward Main Street, which was quieter than it had been just twenty-four hours ago, with the weekend crowd now gone, and parked their bikes there. Cathy, the shopkeeper, was used to seeing her on Mondays for the odds and ends she didn’t pick up from local farms or order in bulk. She called over to her, but Amelia just smiled and said, “Actually, we’re just stopping by for coffee. “
We. It sounded nice on her lips.
She glanced at Matt to see if he was bothered by the term, but he just reached for a paper cup and filled it from one of the carafes that lined the counter near the front of the store.
Cathy looked from her to Matt in obvious surprise. “Matt Bradford. Nice to see you back in town! Tell me, how are your parents?”
Matt’s smile seemed to slip for a moment. “Just fine. My brother too. Thanks for asking.”
“I’ll be back again later for my usual order,” Amelia told Cathy, while Matt settled the bill. Cathy gave her a wink of approval as Amelia walked to the door.
“How are your parents, by the way?” It hadn’t come up before, and Amelia felt bad now for not asking sooner. She’d always loved his mother—a generous woman with a big laugh and a kind smile, who had dropped off a casserole each week for a month after Amelia’s mother had passed away. And his father was quiet but thoughtful, always greeting her wi
th a smile, and telling her to come by the shop sometime.
Matt kept his eyes ahead and took a sip of his coffee. “They’re fine.” He looked over at her and shrugged, as if there was nothing more to say.
Amelia let it drop, and they walked down to the green stretch of grass that led to the lakefront, before settling on a picnic table near the docks.
“So, I take it you usually work on Mondays?” Matt asked, once they were seated. “I hope I didn’t keep you from anything.”
“Not at all. I do work a lot, and Mondays are catch-up days. It’s nice to take some time off when I can.”
“Work keeps you too busy for fun?” He looked at her across the table as he pulled a bagel from the bag and passed it to her. By fun, did he mean dating?
She shrugged. “Something like that. Work and family. Although, now my dad has a girlfriend, so…”
“That’s an adjustment, I imagine.” Matt’s eyes were kind as he studied her, and against her will, Amelia felt a lump build up in her throat. Her mother had been gone since she was sixteen, and she should be used to it by now, except that she wasn’t. None of them were. And Matt knew that. Because he’d known her. How special she was. How warm and funny. He’d been there when she was here, and he’d been there when she was gone.
But then he was gone, too.
Amelia sighed and used a plastic knife to spread the cream cheese over a bagel half. “An adjustment, yes. She’s nothing like my mother, which might be a blessing in disguise, I suppose.”
“No one could compare with your mother,” Matt said quietly.
Her eyes burned as she continued to spread the already spread cream cheese. She pursed her lips and slanted him a glance. “Her name is Candy.”
Matt laughed, and it was just what she needed to break up the moment. “Well that’s a change.”
She nodded. “Change is inevitable, I suppose.”
But sitting here, across from the one boy she had ever loved, she didn’t feel like much had changed at all.
“So, tell me more about this project you’re so excited about,” she said, biting into her bagel.
“You didn’t sound so enthusiastic about it yesterday,” Matt said.
“If it keeps you around a little longer, how can I not support it?”
He grinned at her until his eyes crinkled at the corners and her cheeks burned. Good grief, she was flirting! It had been years since she had flirted, or even had occasion to try it! But it felt good. And fun. And…right.
Matt set down his bagel and reached into his pocket for his phone. “Okay then. You asked for it.”
He slid the device across the table, revealing a giant, white…box.
“That’s the hotel you designed?” She couldn’t hide her shock, and when she met his eyes, she realized that her reaction wasn’t the one he’d been looking for. Struggling to find something polite to say, she said, “It’s just…so modern. So…sleek.”
So cold. So sterile.
“Thank you,” Matt said, but there was a hint of question in his tone. “I think.”
“No, I mean it.” Amelia swallowed hard and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears, buying time as she studied the photo. Was that…an entire wall of glass? There wasn’t a window pane to be found. The entire building was concrete. The only things made of concrete in Blue Harbor were the sidewalks and building foundations.
“It’s just…so different than what you usually see around here.”
Matt nodded. “Exactly. It’s fresh. It’s new. It’s what this town needs.”
Now he had officially managed to surprise her. “What this town needs?” She stared at him in disbelief. Was this what he really thought?
“This town is old—”
“This town is charming,” she corrected, feeling defensive of the place she still called home. “It’s the old-world style that is so appealing. People have sky scrapers in the city. The tourists come here because they like how quaint it is.”
“Enough tourists?” Matt raised an eyebrow.
“Enough,” Amelia said, but she knew her tone was far from convincing. “Look, the winters are always slow—”
“But they don’t have to be,” Matt insisted. He was tapping at something on the photo, but Amelia couldn’t bear the thought of looking at it anymore. “This resort has a full spa, heated terraces, winter sports—”
“And you think that this sort of hotel will attract more business than the inns on Main Street or the bigger places along the beachfront?”
“None of those places have full amenities. One might have a pool, but then it doesn’t have a restaurant, and vice versa. And it won’t take business away from the existing businesses. It will add business. The tourists who come here are looking for a getaway and they’ll be willing to pay a premium for it. Trust me, Amelia, it will be the best thing that ever happened to the economy, and you as a business owner should see that.”
“I don’t doubt that, and I agree that there’s certainly enough demand for more hotel rooms. But…”
His eyes challenged hers and he thrust the phone back into his pocket. “But? Go on. Say it.”
She sighed, hating that this perfect morning was already veering off course.
“I still think that the people who come to Blue Harbor are looking for a quaint, small-town experience. The big resorts on Evening Island do well and they’re definitely from a different era.”
“The big resorts on Evening Island are our competition, and we’d need to set ourselves apart.” Matt shook his head. “Besides, when the ferries stop running in the winter, those places close down. All those customers could end up right here. In Blue Harbor.”
“But…you used to love the old charm of this town.” It was true. He loved the Colonial architecture of the buildings, the fact that Main Street was a step back in time. “Remember how your father taught you the history of the town? He loved collecting old furniture and artwork that dated as far back as the founders!”
Matt’s eyes went flat. “And where did that get him? No one wanted to buy that old stuff. They didn’t appreciate it like he did. Sure, they’d poke around, but did anyone really buy anything? No.”
Amelia nodded sadly. There was no way to change his mind in this conversation, it would seem.
Except that maybe…maybe she could show him something that would open his mind, or at least remind him of what made this town so special to begin with—and not just for the tourists.
“Let me show you something,” she said, packing up the empty paper bag and tossing it in the nearby trash. “I promise, it will be worth it.” She grinned, trying to lessen the tension, and after a moment, Matt did too.
Still, her heart felt heavy as they walked back up to Main Street and she climbed onto her bike. These shops and storefronts and inns were what made this town what it was—what set it apart from the suburbs of bigger cities. What made it a destination for some and a home for others, like herself.
It all felt like it was slipping away, right along with the possibility that she and Matt might find something between them again. Nothing about this day was going as planned. Or rather, as hoped.
She led him down familiar roads, roads that she had travelled on so many afternoons after school and on weekends, until they finally turned onto the street where Matt used to live. She stopped outside the old Victorian home, with the gables and front porch that were much like her own childhood home in many ways, and just as familiar.
“It’s for sale!” Matt exclaimed, noting the sign in the front yard.
She nodded. “The people who moved in after you just moved a couple months ago.”
Matt parked his bike on the front path and walked up onto the porch, peering in windows and trying the door.
“We can probably get in,” Amelia offered, as she brushed her toe over her kickstand to put it down and left her bike beside Matt’s. “Lanie Thompson is a real estate agent now and she’s a regular at the café.” Egg white frittata for breakfast, kale
salad for dinner, dressing on the side. Like Amelia, she was still single, but unlike Amelia she made time for various work out classes, beauty routines, and…diets. “I bet if we call her, she’ll give us the code for the lock.”
Matt seemed to hesitate, but Amelia sensed that he wanted to go back inside. And he needed to see it. To remember how much he loved it, and not just because it was home, but because the architecture of the old house was what had inspired him in the first place—much more so than that great modern thing he had shown her earlier.
Without waiting for a reply, she went back to her bike and pulled her phone from the tote that was resting in the wire basket. Less than a minute later, the code to the key lock had been texted and they were opening the door into the house.
“They painted,” Matt said when they stepped inside the front hallway, which used to be cluttered with shoes and raincoats and umbrellas and baseball bats and mitts and Matt’s lacrosse stick, resting against the wall near the coat rack.
Amelia pushed back a wave of nostalgia and looked around. He was right. The house had been darker before, and now the woodwork was white, and airy. She rather liked it.
“It looks better,” Matt said, standing planted to the floor.
“I’m sure it feels different now,” Amelia said. “After all this time. But it’s still a great house.”
Matt nodded as he stepped into the living room. “It always was,” he said quietly. “It was the best.”
*
Matt walked through each of the empty rooms, remembering them as they once were. There, in the corner of the kitchen, near the big bay window that looked out onto the shady yard, was where he used to sit and eat his waffles and eggs each morning and do his homework each afternoon. The cabinets were still old, but the ceilings were high, and the windows, while in need of some repair, were original, and exquisite, especially, he thought as he came back into the hallway, the stained-glass oval on the landing of the stairs.
He let out a breath as he moved his hand up the carved wood banister, so much different than the sleek metal he now opted for in all of his designs. The door handles were glass, carved knobs, with a brass center, and at the back of the upstairs hall was his childhood bedroom, not that he could say it was his favorite room in the house.
