Return to Virgin River

by Robyn Carr

  “It’s so lucky that you didn’t have drive all the way up here to meet with him,” Kaylee said.

  “You can do almost anything on the computer these days,” Bonnie said.

  “If you need me to help, please let me know,” Kaylee said. “It’s not that I’m overbooked!”

  And at least once every three days she had dinner with Landry either at his house or hers. Sometimes on those days they didn’t have dinner together, they would still meet on the porch for a cup of coffee or glass of wine, maybe in the morning, maybe in the evening. And they always waved to each other multiple times a day.

  Although Kaylee was determined that Landry was merely a friend and a landlord, the romance she’d created between Caroline and Landon was growing more intense. When they looked at each other now, there was real longing in their eyes.

  The first weekend in October, Kaylee drove to Grace Valley to check out the Fall Art Walk. The main street was blocked off and filled with booths that displayed everything from woodworking to spices, from hummus to paintings. She should have known she’d see friends there. Kelly’s daughter was manning a booth that sold many of her mother’s salsas, relishes and sauces. People she knew introduced her to people she didn’t. She met the Grace Valley town doctor, June, introduced to her by Mel. She met the Grace Valley minister, Harry, introduced to her by Colin. She found Landry’s booth and gasped at the beauty of his pots, vases and wind chimes. She had not seen much of his work before, just those pieces that decorated his house and hers. He was amazing and had a large group of people gathered there.

  They ate some barbecue together in his booth since he couldn’t leave. She had come only to show interest and support but once there, she was enchanted by the bounty of goods and crafts. It was early afternoon when the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen in her life came into the booth, saw Landry and said, “Darling!”

  He walked to her and kissed her cheek. “Hi, Laura.”

  “Look at your wonderful pieces! You just get better all the time. You are the most fabulous artist.”

  Laura was tall, thin, blonde with intense blue eyes to match his and when they stood side by side, they appeared made for each other. Her teeth were perfect and straight, her figure svelte and buxom. Of course her makeup was professional-looking and her nails were star quality. She was stunning. She wore a midlength white lace skirt, a denim jacket and drop dead gorgeous brown leather boots. And the confidence she exuded was palpable.

  “And who’s this?” she asked, sticking her hand out toward Kaylee. “Hello there, I’m Laura. Landry’s wife.”

  She did look every bit the actress. Kaylee suddenly felt very short and plump and way underdressed in her jeans and hoodie. “It’s a pleasure,” she said a bit awkwardly. “I’m Kaylee. I rent Landry’s house. The smaller one.”

  “How wonderful!” Then Laura fluttered her lashes at him. “You look so good, Landry. You’ve been taking care of yourself. Do you have time to walk me around the fair?”

  “I really can’t, Laura. I’ll be busy here the rest of the day. I’m sorry. Why don’t you look around and enjoy yourself and maybe we’ll talk later.”

  “Oh, can’t your little friend manage your booth for a while?”

  “Of course not,” he said, irritation in his voice. “Kaylee doesn’t know anything about these things. She just stopped by to say hello.”

  “And it’s really time I get going,” Kaylee said, trying out a smile. “I still have more of this fair to see.”

  She gathered up her purse and left Landry and his wife.

  Wife? Hadn’t he said he was married but it didn’t work out? She must have meant she was his ex-wife. But they certainly had a cordial relationship.

  * * *

  Landry was immediately busy with customers, answering their questions about his wares, explaining his process and helping them choose what to buy. His was usually a busy booth and today was no different. After no more than twenty minutes Laura had wandered off, telling him she’d see him later.

  Now, what was this about? he wondered. She never showed any interest in these small town fairs or the people. She admired his work but in all the years he’d lived in Virgin River, she’d only visited a few times and took no notice of the town or the people. The only time she’d mingled was at his father’s funeral.

  He had to pack up his things at the end of the day. He put them in the trailer he’d brought along, put a padlock on it and left it in the parking lot. He didn’t get home until ten o’clock and there, in front of his house, was a strange car. A rental, he assumed.

  A light was on in the kitchen but Laura was nowhere in sight. Otis briefly greeted him, then went back to his pallet in the living room. Landry went to the bedroom to see her in his bed. He turned on the overhead bedroom light and she sat up, startled. It was very bright.

  “Landry! You scared me!”

  “What are you doing here? I told you it was a bad time.”

  “I told you, I wanted to see you!”

  “And I told you I couldn’t break away until November.”

  “So I came to you,” she said, as if that resolved the issue.

  He turned and left the room. He went to the kitchen and put four ice cubes in a glass. He got down the Crown Royal from a high cupboard and poured himself a generous drink.

  She came from the bedroom, tying the sash on a black satin robe. She stood on the opposite side of the counter. “Can I have one of those?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer but merely got another glass, added ice and some liquor and slid it across the counter.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Can we sit down?”

  He pulled a bar stool around the end of the counter and sat looking at her.

  “You certainly aren’t making this easy. I’ve been wanting to have a serious talk with you for a long time,” she said.

  “You’ve had ten years, Laura.”

  “And so have you,” she replied. “Yet here we are. So, did I interrupt something romantic between you and your friend?”

  “No, she’s my tenant. We’re neighbors; we’re friendly.”

  “She’s very pretty.”

  “That wouldn’t intimidate you,” he said.

  “Look, this is hard for me. Be kind, at least. Things are not going as I had hoped they would. I’m not getting the parts I want or need anymore. I’m being cast more often as the mother of the bride than the bride. Or the disgruntled sister or the other woman.”

  “You’ve had some good parts. Some good films.” And he knew this because he’d paid attention. When she was in a TV series or feature film, he made it a point to see it.

  “The truth is that at my status the work is very hard and doesn’t pay well enough. I’ve aged out at thirty-five. I’m getting character roles and TV commercials. Ads. I’m burned out and ready to try something else. I’m thinking of giving up acting.”

  “Really?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “After all this time and dedication? There are plenty of good acting jobs for women over thirty-five.”

  “Not plenty,” she said. “There are some, but they’re hard to get. I have to be honest with myself. It’s not going to take me where I always wanted to go.”

  He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. “I have to admit, that surprises me. I thought you had the stamina for the long haul.”

  “But not the enthusiasm,” she said. She took a sip of her drink. “I want us to try again.”

  His head jerked up in surprise. “Try what again?” he asked.

  “Marriage. Our marriage. That year we had together was the happiest year of my life.”

  “And yet you left it,” he said. “You chose acting. We fought it out and you chose acting and career over marriage. For a while there you wouldn’t even admit you were married.”

  “That was just PR bullshit to make me see
m more desirable, more available, to convince people I wouldn’t flutter off the job and leave them all hanging. That didn’t last long. We’ve had a long-distance marriage, but—”

  “We’ve had no marriage,” he said. “We haven’t slept together in almost a decade!”

  “Well, that was your choice,” she said.

  “Yes, it was,” he said. “When I realized I’d seen you for less than twelve days in a year, it was very clear that you had no investment in our marriage. I didn’t want to be a booty call. That might’ve been enough for you, but it wasn’t enough for me.”

  “And yet we never divorced,” she reminded him.

  “There didn’t seem to be any pressing need,” he said. “I had no interest in marrying again. I figured you’d file for divorce.”

  “But I didn’t want a divorce! I wanted to be married!”

  “To a man you saw for less than a month out of every year?”

  “I loved you,” she said. “I always loved you! And you loved me. We were good friends.”

  “We were friends,” he said. “I don’t know if we were even really that. We got along. We talked on the phone regularly but it was more like talking to a cousin or sister, not a wife. Take a trip down memory lane, Laura. After two years of your chasing stardom we had a blowout. I drew a line in the sand—we had to either find a way to live together or call it quits. You argued that there was no way to live together, that your work was either in Hollywood or on location, that it was your dream, that you worked hard for it and couldn’t give it up without at least giving it an earnest try. I said I was done with the trying. I offered up every compromise I could think of but you wanted me on the sidelines. That’s when I came back here to live and work.”

  “It’s not like we’ve ever been out of touch,” she said.

  “We talk on the phone!” he said. “We meet in San Francisco if I’m visiting the galleries. We don’t even share a hotel room on those occasions. We’re not even good friends!”

  “We’re very good friends! You’re my best friend! I’ve always loved you!”

  He took a deep drink. “Laura, you need to raise your standards. Your idea of friendship is really lacking.”

  Her eyes got teary. “I’m sorry, Landry. I failed at everything. I never should have wasted so much time on acting if it was going to come to nothing. I never should have given you up. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I want us to be together. Please say you’ll try again.”

  “I think that ship has sailed, Laura. No matter how I feel about you, the trust just isn’t there. I’d be waiting to see you get out the suitcase every day.”

  “But wait,” she said. “Remember when we used to go to the outdoor movies, to the foreign films, to the galleries and street vendors? Remember our picnics in Union Square? Sitting on a bench and people watching? Our drives up the coast to the fish house? To the Russian River? We were young and carefree and so happy. We can’t be young anymore but—”

  “I think too many years have passed,” he said.

  “We can start over,” she said. “We have the love. We just need the time together.”

  “I have a different kind of life now,” he said. “I’ve lived alone for ten years. I’m solitary and you need a lot of people. I agree, there was a time we had fun; it seemed we were compatible. But Laura, you walked away. And you didn’t want me to tag along.”

  “It was a practical issue,” she said. “And maybe I was foolish but I thought once I landed a really good role and didn’t have to sell my soul for work, then we could get it together. Please, I’m ready to give it up for us. Will you at least think about it?”

  “I can’t help but think about it,” he said. “But I don’t think it would benefit either one of us.”

  “Take a week,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  “Where did this come from?” he asked. “Did something happen? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “No, of course not, unless you call complete failure to achieve my goals trouble. This just isn’t working. I’ve given up, Landry. I want a sane life again.”

  “In a little house in the mountains with a dog? And a guy and his pots?” He shook his head. “There are no theaters or spas or fancy restaurants here. You wouldn’t last a month. And it would probably leave me scarred. Again.”

  “Think about it? For a week? Give me a chance?”

  “Are you listening? The last time you decided acting was more important than marriage, you walked away and it hurt. You said you’d be back in a few days and it was months. When you ask me to think about us, what do you think comes to mind? Maybe the guy in the towel who you passed off as a roommate you weren’t romantically involved with? I never bought that...”

  “It was true! There were men and women sharing that house. There were lots of different houses and roommates; there were lots of starving artists who doubled up because that was the only way I could afford to stay in LA. It can’t hurt anything to think about putting it back together.”

  “I’m exhausted. I can’t talk about it anymore tonight. I need some sleep and so do you.”

  “All I want is for you to give it fair consideration.”

  “Don’t you have a job to get to? A play?”

  “It’s not even a good play,” she said. “I’d give it up in a heartbeat.”

  “I’ll be honest with you, Laura. There’s about a one in a million chance I’m going to try to resurrect a dead marriage.”

  “I never thought of it as dead,” she said.

  You have a funny way of showing it, he wanted to say. Instead he said, “Time to sleep. I’ll take the couch. I have to leave early tomorrow for Grace Valley. I have to set up my booth.”

  “Kiss me good-night?” she asked.

  “Oh, come on,” he said. “Love and a desire to be partners isn’t a switch you turn on and off! You don’t sashay in here and declare you’ve changed your mind after about ten years and expect me to fall in line! Everything isn’t all about you, Laura. All about what you want. I have feelings, too.”

  “I hurt you,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I’d like a chance to make it up to you.”

  “Not tonight,” he said. “I had a very long day. And I’m going to have another one tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.”

  She left the kitchen reluctantly, but she kept the door to the bedroom open.

  Of course, he couldn’t sleep. That couch never felt like it had so many lumps before. 5:00 a.m. had never come so early. He used the powder room to wash up and dress. He brewed coffee. He turned the bright overhead light on in his bedroom and she stirred. She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

  “I’m leaving for the fair. You should go back to San Francisco. I’ll give you a call later this week.”

  6

  KAYLEE HAD NO idea what had gone on at Landry’s house. The sound of Landry’s truck pulling into his drive late the night before was unmistakable and she peeked out the window just in time to see the lights go out; she heard the truck door slam. She was up late, as usual, and didn’t hear him leave in the morning but when she took her coffee cup out to the porch, the truck was gone. Laura’s car was still there, however.

  Time to be honest with yourself, Kaylee, she thought. She had developed a bit of a crush on Landry. She thought about him more often than she liked to admit. She looked forward to the evenings, always a little prepared to share dinner. She was thrilled when he suggested she come to the street fair; she thought that meant he liked her in a slightly more than casual way, even if there hadn’t been any obvious signs of affection.

  She decided it was more important than ever to keep her routine, so she got ready for a nice long walk. When she was past his house by quite a distance, she heard the pitter-patter of feet. She turned around to see Otis sitting at attention behind her. She walked on, then stopped and turned again. He sat at attention, wai
ting. She walked on once more and looked back again. She chuckled. “Okay,” she said. His ears perked. “Come,” she said. And the dog smiled and trotted toward her. “What? Were you a little lonely? Well, me, too. Come. Heel.” He walked at her side, the perfect gentleman. She was amazed to think that a month ago this simple action would have caused her to shiver and shake.

  Every day her walks became more enjoyable because of the changing colors, the aspen, maple, oak and other trees she couldn’t identify. The yellow and orange rose up the mountainside, growing more intense as the elevation was greater while the valleys remained green and lush. While she loved Newport Beach and appreciated its beauty, there was something about these powerful trees and mountains that filled her with hope. The air was so fresh up here, it almost shocked the lungs to take a deep breath.

  When they got back to the front of Landry’s house she told Otis to go to his place. He cocked his head and looked up at her as if hoping for a second chance. “Place,” she said again, and she watched as Otis went around to the side of the house, easily jumped the fence to the backyard and presumably used his doggy door to go inside and find his mat. She just shook her head. She was beginning to understand how a person could find good companionship with a well-behaved dog.

  She went to town and tried writing at Jack’s for a while. It was Sunday and quiet, but it was hunting season so the rest of the week would see plenty of hunters in the bar, just not on Sunday afternoon. She’d come to understand that they did most of their hunting early in the morning, celebrating afterward, the majority of them leaving on Sunday evening. She’d already gotten used to seeing them at the dinner hour, after the hunting was done. Jack wasn’t even there now. Preacher’s wife, Paige, was working behind the bar, and their son, Christopher, was helping out, wiping off tables and bringing plates and glasses to the back. She ordered a sandwich and just hung out with her laptop open as if she was working, which she was not. Unfortunately, no one interrupted her.