Blueberry Hill, #1

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Copyright © 2021 by Cynthia Luhrs

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Also by Cynthia Luhrs

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Tara Singleton paused in the hallway, the tile cool on her feet, as she admired the huge spray of flowers from her husband. She pushed the vase to the center of the table, her throat closing up as she looked at the antique ring in the shape of a rose.

  It had been her mom’s favorite ring. If only she could have been here to celebrate the passing of another year. The edges of the rose were worn smooth from rubbing it countless times over the years.

  “Hello, fifty-five. Thank you for the good genes, mom.”

  The only time Tara ever thought about her age was on her birthday. She firmly believed you were only as old as you felt. When she turned twenty-five, she had a mini crisis, after that her age never bothered her again.

  She crossed her fingers.

  “Let’s hope none of the biggies, like seventy or eighty, bother me either.”

  It seemed like only yesterday she’d been walking across campus, arms full of books, tripped, and fell into the arms of her now husband. He’d been a guest speaker for a finance class, so mature compared to other guys her age.

  Thirty-five years together. They’d dated for two years and married for thirty-three. A lifetime.

  And if lately there had been more downs than ups, that was to be expected as they entered a new phase in their lives. New beginnings always brought change and growing pains.

  The bright red sports car parked in front of the fountain caught her eye. Talk about a mid-life crisis car. Harry’s friends teased him about the flashy car, saying he was reliving his youth, driving around with the top down, even when it was cold outside.

  The first day of spring and her birthday were on the same day. A good omen. Tara jogged up the stairs, feet slapping on the marble as she made her way to the bedroom to finish getting ready for the party.

  Throughout the day, the kids called to wish her a happy birthday. Since Harry was taking her to California at the end of the week, the kids planned to celebrate her birthday as a family in a few weeks at the beach house Harry’s parents owned.

  They’d all cook out and swim in the pool and relax. The ocean was still too cold for her, though they’d see tourists from the cold-weather states taking the plunge into the chilly waves. There were always tourists out and about here in Miami, Florida, no matter what time of year.

  The outfit she planned to wear was laid out on the bed. Tara showered and applied lotion to her skin. Wrapped in a terry-cloth robe, she sat in front of the mirror and finished blow-drying her shoulder length light brown hair. Not a single gray hair. Hopefully she took after her grandmother, who didn’t turn gray until she turned seventy.

  Harry strode out of the bathroom. The scent of the new cologne he’d recently started wearing, wafted through the large master bedroom.

  “Aren’t you ready yet? Our guests will be here any minute.”

  “I was just thinking about change.”

  She opened the drawer on the vanity, pulling out her makeup.

  “I’ll pour the wine and you can tell me these deep thoughts you’re having,” he teased as he opened the bottle of white wine, pouring each of them a glass.

  “Harry?”

  He paused, turning in the arched doorway to the walk-in closet, a questioning look on his face. Even after all these years, she could still see the boyish face of the man she’d fallen in love with so many years ago.

  They were so fortunate. Not only was his job secure, but it paid more money than she’d ever imagined anyone could make. Something to do with finance. Nothing she understood. While she could easily manage a budget, the numbers and formulas he dealt with daily were nothing more than gibberish to her.

  Over the years, they’d been careful to put away plenty of money, so Harry could retire in his fifties, and then they could travel the world, enjoying the rest of their lives together.

  In time, Tara hoped she’d be a grandmother. If only she could get her adult children to settle down and have lots of babies. Several of their friends were new grandparents. She had an acute case of grandbaby fever.

  “Remember at the Lawrence’s last week, everyone was sharing the stories of how they met? You never shared our story. When was the moment you fell in love with me?”

  He strode into the walk-in closet to pick out a tie, his steps hurried.

  “That was a long time ago,” he called, his voice muffled.

  She’d finished her makeup and had dressed while he was still in the closet. By the time he came out, a pink tie in hand, Tara was sitting on the bed buckling the dainty straps on her heels.

  “Would you zip me up?”

  She stood and turned, noticing the new cuff links in the light pink shirt.

  As he zipped her up, she looked over the rest of his outfit from the pale pink socks with watermelon slices on them, to his face. Several months ago, her husband had started getting facials and massages. He’d upped his fashion game over the past months as well, watching what he ate and working out more.

  “There you go.” He patted her on the shoulder.

  She watched as he looked in the mirror, carefully combing his hair to cover the thin spot in the back. He’d taken to coloring it a few months ago, saying he needed to look younger to fit in at work.

  “Do you remember? The moment you fell for me?”

  She waited, curious to hear what he’d say.

  “This is real life. Not another one of your silly happily ever after movies on TV. No one remembers the moment they fell in love.”

  Her throat closed up.

  “But surely you remember when you knew I was the one?”

  Tara blinked so she wouldn’t ruin her makeup.

  “I remember the day we met at college. The dress I was wearing, the scent of the ocean on the breeze, and the smell of the books I was carrying.”

  He let out a long-suffering sigh.

  “Most of our friends either couldn’t remember or made up stories. We all laughed about it afterwards. No one remembers the exact moment, that’s fantasy. I live in the real world.”

  He kissed her on the forehead.

  “We don’t have time for this, I hear the doorbell.”

  As Tara slid her favorite aquamarine ring on her right hand, she looked at her left, the small round diamond and simple gold band. Over the years, Harry had offered to upgrade the ring, said all their friends’ wives had diamonds at least four carats or more, but Tara didn’t care. She loved the ring he’d scrimped and saved for all those years ago. No way would she ever trade it in for a newer flashier ring.

  Harry called
over his shoulder as he jogged down the steps.

  “Tara, come on.”

  She spun the band with the stones from her children’s birth months around on her middle finger, and made a wish that her children would find happiness, no matter what path they followed in life.

  “Coming.”

  She tucked the manila envelope she’d stuffed under the pillows on the bed into a drawer. After the party, that was when she’d tell Harry the news. It was so exciting, an unexpected belated present.

  Pushing the niggling worry about her husband away, Tara pasted on a smile, and went downstairs to greet their guests.

  Even though it wasn’t a surprise party, someone had dimmed the lights. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, the lights flashed on, and all their friends cheered. They sang happy birthday, teasing her about her age as she laughed at the jokes.

  Patty wheeled out an enormous chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, and enough candles to burn down the house as her friends cheered, pointing out their favorites amongst the assortment of cupcakes, pies, and cheesecake offerings scattered around the cake.

  The first year of college, Patty had been climbing out of a dorm window and almost fell on Tara as she escaped from a bad date. They’d been best friends ever since.

  Where was Harry?

  Tara scanned the kitchen and great room as everyone crowded close, urging her to blow out the candles and make a wish.

  As she leaned down, tucking her hair behind her ears, Harry came to stand beside her, his face pale and drawn. Her breath whooshed out, and the candles went out, much to the delight of everyone.

  Tara kept her voice low and smiled as she cut slices of cake and handed out desserts.

  “Harry? Honey, what’s wrong?”

  When she’d finished serving everyone, Harry touched her arm, his hand cold through the sleeve of her silk dress.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  Tara took a bite of cake and groaned. The recipe was her mom’s. Everyone raved about the chocolate icing, which was Tara’s all-time favorite, ever since she’d turned five.

  “Now? What about our guests?”

  He half-dragged her to the laundry room off the kitchen, shutting the door behind them as a few of his colleagues from work whooped and hollered.

  Her husband paced back and forth across the pretty room, wallpapered in giant flowers. It made Tara feel like she was an ant walking through an enormous garden every time she stepped into the room to do laundry.

  “Harry. You’re scaring me. Has something happened to one of the kids?”

  Tara set the half-eaten slice of cake on top of the dryer, rubbing her hands up and down the silk sleeves of her dress, trying to warm herself. They lived in Florida and he kept the house cold as a freezer all year round.

  “The kids are fine.”

  Relief washed over her as she put a hand on top of the washer to steady herself.

  Harry slumped against the wall, sweat running down the side of his face. Tara squinted at him. Was he wearing makeup?

  “I have to tell you something. The trip to California? It’s canceled.”

  He rubbed his hands up and down his dark navy pants, leaving wet streaks. There were circles under his eyes, his tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled.

  The words came out in a rush, a dam breaking, destroying everything in its path.

  “You know things have been difficult at the firm this past year. I took risks—”

  She held up a hand, eyes narrowed.

  “What did you do?”

  The worry flared up again as she thought about the odd phone calls and late nights over the past several months, the distance between them.

  When she’d asked him what was wrong, Harry had brushed off her concerns, telling her she worried too much. He’d bought the sports car a few days later.

  Snippets of conversations, guilty looks, and times when he’d said he was playing golf, but she’d found out later his friends hadn’t played with him. The montage of evasions and half-truths played out in front of her eyes.

  “It’s all gone.”

  He waved a hand around, oblivious to the music and laughter coming from the living room where their guests were celebrating her birthday.

  “What do you mean all gone? There’s plenty of money in the household account.”

  “I didn’t want you to worry. I thought I could get it back. Make back the money.”

  A horrible sinking sensation started in her stomach and spread through her body as the sordid details spilled out about financial transactions, fake documents, big losses, and investigations.

  “… we’re dead broke. I stopped the auto draft on the mortgage quite a while ago. The house is in foreclosure, our retirement accounts are dry, and I’m being investigated.” Harry reached for her hand.

  “Even our life insurance?”

  He nodded.

  She took a step away, needing the distance to think.

  “What else?”

  Right until this very second Tara would have said she knew her husband better than she knew herself. But now? All she knew was he was lying or leaving out something important.

  Harry lifted his head and met her gaze. She saw the moment he decided to come all the way clean.

  “They’re saying I embezzled. There’s talk about insider trading.”

  He held up his hands.

  “It’s all a big misunderstanding. Sure, I lost money, but I’m not a crook. I just needed time to cover the losses and make it all back.”

  The sounds of the party faded away. Tara leaned against the laundry room wall, absently rubbing the wallpaper as she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “I know there’s more. Tell me the rest. Now.”

  His shoulders slumped.

  “The personal trainer I’ve been working out with, I’m going to work for her father’s tech firm, it’s the biggest in the state, very prestigious. Once this minor blip at work is cleared up, of course.”

  “That little girl? Mandy?”

  Tara looked at the man she realized she didn’t know at all, wondered if she’d ever known him.

  “Since when do you care about working out and fitness? Your idea of working up a sweat is riding around the course in a golf cart, drinking beer.”

  She squinted at him. The cologne, dying his hair, the makeup, getting a trendy haircut, the facials, and manicures. The trendy expensive clothes. Not to mention the sports car and sudden interest in pop music. Saliva pooled in her throat as she pressed a fist to her mouth, smothering the cry as all the bits and pieces tumbled into place.

  “I’m in love with Mandy.”

  Tara flinched when Harry reached out for her.

  “She’s pregnant. We’re having a boy.”

  Harry went to the door, his manicured hand on the doorknob.

  “I want a divorce so I can marry her before the baby is born.”

  Her voice came out cold, imperious, sounding more like Harry’s mother than herself.

  “And when exactly might that be?”

  At least he had the grace to look ashamed.

  “She’s due in three months. I checked with my lawyer. As long as you and I agree to terms, we can file for a Simplified Dissolution of Marriage and have this behind us in a month, tops.”

  As if their entire life together had been some kind of passing fad? It wasn’t fair men could make babies well into their seventies, if they so desired. Here he was at fifty-five, ready to be a father again.

  “What about our children? Do they know?”

  Harry fidgeted. He’d always let her be the bad guy while he was the fun parent.

  “You haven’t told them.”

  He shook his head, a sheepish look on his face.

  Tara wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream or throw something or both.

  “Please tell everyone I have a migraine and ask them to leave.”

  “Tara,” he pleaded.

  “Do it now or they can all hear what I think of yo
u and your mistress. How old is she, anyway?”

  “She comes from an excellent family. Very wealthy.”

  “How. Old. Is. She?”

  He ducked his head. “Twenty-three.”

  “The same age as Christina. Maybe our daughter is friends with your soon to be wife.”

  Harry rolled his eyes.

  “That isn’t fair.”

  Tara narrowed her eyes and pointed at the door. She held herself rigid until he left, shutting the door softly behind him. Only then did she slide down the wall, wrap her arms around her knees, and cry quietly into the sleeves of her dress.

  “What am I going to do now?”

  She picked up one of Harry’s custom tailored shirts from the laundry basket and blew her nose, then wiped the mascara from her cheeks, leaving dark streaks down the pale blue fabric.

  Let Mandy wash his clothes from now on.

  Chapter 2

  Evan strode into Stan’s office, pausing a moment to admire the view of the Space Needle from the floor to ceiling windows.

  “I finished those redundancy reports you wanted. You should have them in your email.”

  Stan was the Vice President of the large food conglomerate that Evan had worked for since graduating college nine years ago.

  “Have a seat.”

  He picked up the phone.

  “Could you bring in a couple of coffees?”

  Evan relaxed in the plush chair in the sitting area of the spacious office. When he got the promotion he’d been working so hard for the past two years, he’d decorate his office in deep green, navy, and maroon. Old world elegance.

  Stan sat across from him, a big man who radiated power, taking command of a room as soon as he entered it.

  “How’s Emily? My wife mentioned seeing her at some charity event last week.”

  “She’s good. We’ll be at the dinner tonight for the golf event.”