by Jo McNally
For perhaps the first time in the few weeks since she’d bolted, she faced up to her actions without putting the blame on anyone else. Yes, she’d felt pressured from all directions, but it had been her choice to leave everything...and everyone...behind. It was time she owned it.
“You’re right, Mom. And I’m sorry for pulling a disappearing act the way I did. I felt so desperate and conflicted and angry.”
“Angry with me.” Her mother didn’t say it as a question.
“Yes. Among other people and situations, but...yes. I was very angry with you.” She blew out a soft breath. “But that’s no excuse. I could have spoken up. Instead... I just left.” And running hadn’t solved a thing.
“Honey,” her mother hesitated. “Your father and I have living separate lives for a while now. We just...let it happen. And then I met someone.” Lucy didn’t want to hear this, but she stayed silent as her mother continued. “I never planned it. But I was lonely and Jeff actually listened to me, and...”
Lucy stiffened. “Mom, of all the things I’m not ready to deal with right now, the details of my mother’s secret affair is at the tippy top of the list.”
There was long pause. “Fair enough. The point is, like you, I’ve made mistakes. Like you, I’ve hurt people. I’m human. But Lucy, the argument you overheard between your father and I was honestly a fluke. Doing all the pretending for the wedding had us both on edge. But your dad and I are communicating and we’re not at each other’s throats, I promise. And we both want you to come home.”
“To be honest, I thought I’d be back after a few days. I didn’t think I was actually leaving leaving at the time.”
“Well, you’ve been gone a month now, so I think we can say you’ve officially left. Is your friend Nikki ever going to get her car back?”
That was a good question. It wasn’t fair to expect Nikki to drive Lucy’s old Volkswagen to New York and then drive the Mustang all the way back home again. That was a fifteen-hundred-mile round trip. But the only other option was for Lucy to drive back to North Carolina to get her car. Which meant facing everyone and making all those explanations, apologies and goodbyes that her mother mentioned. It was the responsible thing to do. But she didn’t want to. If that made her weak or childish, so be it. Nikki told her to take her time. Said she didn’t have time to go cruising in the convertible anyway with her restaurant’s new location opening soon. And Nikki had made a good point about Lucy’s ancient but beloved Beetle, Buttercup. It probably wasn’t up to the long drive to Rendezvous Falls.
“Lucy?” Her mother interrupted her thoughts. “Are you buying that car from Nikki or...?”
“No.” She could never afford it, of course. “I’m only putting three miles a day on the Mustang, if that. I can literally walk to work, so it’s being driven less than what Nikki would have, so... I’m sort of doing her a favor, right?” She realized her mistake and prayed it would go unnoticed.
“Work?” No such luck. “You have a job? Doing what?”
“Don’t sound so shocked, Mom. I don’t have a bottomless well of money to pay for a room and food. I have a part-time job at a florist shop here. It’s not that big a deal.”
“A florist shop. Of course. I know you loved your aunt, but you need to...”
Lucy stood with a sigh. “What I need to do is get to work on time this morning. Doing what I love. You said you wouldn’t want me to marry a man I didn’t love, so why do you want me to have a career I don’t love?”
She could imagine her mother’s face at being cornered—her mouth pinched, her eyes narrowing. Her fingers were probably drumming the kitchen counter right now. And then the deep breath as she decided on a course of action.
“It’s not that I don’t want you to be happy. I just... I guess I’m applying my standard of happiness to you. Or my expectations. Or something.” A pause. “You’re the first child in my family to go to college. To you, it’s just what’s done when everyone turns eighteen. But there was a time when getting a college education was just a dream.” There was a serious note to her mother’s voice. “When we left you at that campus and I looked back as we drove away, I saw so much ahead for you. You were going to take the world by storm, maybe get a job in Manhattan, or even Paris...” Lucy held her phone away and made a face at it. Paris? She’d never once talked about going to Paris. And she’d attended App State, not Harvard. Her mother let out a long sigh. “And I never once asked you what you wanted to do after college.”
“Mom, you know I wanted a flower shop. I have ever since I was a kid.”
“I remember.” Her voice was wistful now. “I thought it was a phase...that you’d mixed up the flower business with how much you loved Aunt Shirley. But your dad tried to tell me that once you set your mind on something, you didn’t give up. And he was right. You went back to plants and flowers every chance you got. You even got engaged to a guy with a landscaping business. I guess it was a bit more than a phase, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t fall in love with Owen because he was in landscaping.”
She hadn’t even known about the family business until they’d been dating for several months. That’s when he told her he was thinking about making a career in the Army, but his parents kept insisting he had to take over the business, which had expanded to multiple locations, with a nursery and produce center. That was the family plan. And as impulsive as Lucy was, Owen was the exact opposite. When there was a plan in place, it had to be followed. He’d often told her that she was the only time he’d strayed from his plans.
He was supposed to marry the daughter of his parents’ best friends. Monica Sheffly was a younger version of Faye Cooper. She was all about image and hanging out with the country club tennis crowd. Owen explained he and Monica were never more than friends in his mind—they’d gone on a few dates, but he said they weren’t real dates, because they were always with a group of people. Lucy knew Monica viewed their relationship differently, judging from the barely civil way she’d treated Lucy on the few occasions they’d met at the club or at some family gathering. Owen made it clear that he’d never pulled Monica into the back of his SUV to make love under the stars.
“So you are in love with Owen?”
She didn’t realize she was smiling until her mother interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes. No! I mean... I don’t know.” She thought about the heated look he’d given her last night. The warmth of his hands on her hips. The snap of electricity as they’d stood in that deserted parking lot, foreheads touching. The swell of tenderness she’d felt as he shared some of his experiences overseas. “We’re...talking. We had breakfast together. He wants me to come back to Greensboro, but for now we’re...friends. I’m still figuring out...”
“You had breakfast? Is Owen there?”
She winced, closing her eyes tight in regret. She hadn’t meant for that to slip out, either. Then again, she’d never really hidden anything from her mom before everything blew up. As angry as Lucy was, it felt good to talk to her mom. “Um...yeah. He just showed up here. I think he thought he was just going to scoop me up and carry me back to Cooper Landscaping, but I set him straight on that. He insisted on staying here for a month to try to win me back, whatever that means.”
Her mother laughed, and Lucy’s heart ached at the sound. She was still furious with her parents for reasons both fair and unfair. But she’d really missed her mom.
“Oh, Lucy-Lou.” Her mother chuckled. Lucy blinked. She usually groaned over Mom’s pet names, but right now it sounded like love. “That man left his mama—no easy feat after the wedding fiasco—and chased after you? I knew I liked him. Tell him I said hi. And tell him I’m on his side.”
Lucy’s laugh bubbled up from a place that had been closed off for a month or two. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side.”
There was a pause.
“I am. That’s why I’m rooting for hi
m.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
OWEN WAS HAVING lunch at the Spot Diner when the text came in from Piper Taggart.
Umm...there’s a guy here asking for you. Driving a big truck. With a car on it. My husband seems unsurprised. What’s going on?
Owen smiled and texted that he’d be there shortly. Then the smile faded, along with his confidence. He and Lucy had been on fairly friendly terms for a few days now. Having breakfast together at the inn. Chatting about innocuous things like the weather or some bridezilla she was working with at the shop. This supersized grand gesture had seemed necessary when Lucy wasn’t giving him the time of day. But now that they were finally talking, would it seem pushy? Presumptive?
The Dr. Find-Love app said to do something really bold with something the other person adored. Lord knew why, but Lucy loved that damn car of hers, even if it was a rusted hunk of metal with an engine way past its projected lifespan and seats patched together with duct tape. He’d known the 1960s car was getting bad when he went overseas the last time, but he’d been horrified to see its condition when he got home. The fact that Lucy hadn’t trusted it to survive the drive to New York proved she knew it needed work.
So...this was a great idea.
Unless...unless it wasn’t.
“Did I accidentally put vinegar in your coffee or are you just thinking about how screwed you still are?”
Evie Hudson was standing by his booth. They’d talked a few times in the past week or so. As the co-owner of the townie diner in the heart of Rendezvous Falls, he had a feeling there wasn’t much Evie missed. Including the fact that he was trying hard to win back Lucy Higgins. A fact that the sassy woman with a bright red streak in her dark hair seemed to enjoy way too much. He grimaced.
“No vinegar. It’s possible I’m even more screwed than before.”
“Oh, shit. What did you do?”
“I put a grand gesture in motion that might backfire on me.”
Evie’s brows shot up on her forehead, and she slid into the seat across from him, propping her chin in her hand and batting her eyelashes at him. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
He shook his head, putting a twenty on the table and starting to slide out of the booth. “No time. And too late to stop it anyway.” He hesitated. For all her snarkiness, there was nothing but compassion—and maybe a little amusement—in Evie’s eyes. Owen sighed, and a rush of words followed. “She loves her stupid VW Bug. It was her grandmother’s car. But it was a wreck. So I had the thing completely overhauled and painted and trucked it up here.” He held up his phone with the text from Piper. “It just arrived.”
Evie’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. She closed it, pressing her lips together tightly, deep in thought. Then she held up her finger, as if trying to work out what she wanted to say. “You took something she loved. And changed it. And that’s a good thing?”
“I didn’t change it. I restored it. I’m not exaggerating when I say that thing wasn’t safe.”
She was staring at him as if he’d just morphed into a unicorn in front of her. Her eyes glimmered with amusement and admiration, tempered with a good dose of what looked like pity.
“I can’t decide if you’re a genius or a fool, Owen Cooper. That move is the wildest combination of over-the-top sweetness and presumptive how-dare-you I’ve ever heard of. When does Lucy discover what you’ve done?”
There was something scolding in the way she said what you’ve done, but she was also laughing. At him? At the gesture? Of how Lucy might murder him in the next hour or so? He got up from the booth.
“She’ll find out when she gets back to the inn later. Why?”
“Because I need to be there to see this. What’s going to happen to the car she has now? That belongs to Nikki Taggart, right?”
“I’m shipping it back to Nikki. That was part of the deal. And she approved...sort of.” That had to mean something. Nikki and Lucy were BFFs. So why were his palms starting to sweat?
“And—” Evie looked up at him “—you just made all these decisions...without talking to Lucy about any of it?”
“If I’d talked to her, it wouldn’t be a grand gesture, would it? You know what they say—go big or go home.”
Evie’s laughter rang out as she stood and slapped his shoulder, pushing him toward the door. “Just remember, go home is a definite possibility here. But I gotta give you credit...it’s a bold move. You’re going to have her attention, pal. Don’t blow it.”
He headed out the door and toward the inn. Don’t blow it was becoming his theme these days.
* * *
“WHY ARE YOU taking pictures of everything this week?” Connie felt like she couldn’t turn around without Lucy telling her to step back out of the way, or to hold some flowers and smile. As if.
“It’s for the website, remember? Evie gave me the log-on information, and I’m updating the whole thing. The photos on there were all low-res and blurry.” She held up an expensive-looking camera. “I borrowed this from Evie’s husband, Mark. Not only is he an artist, but he also likes photography. So I’m getting as many candid and mood pictures as I can while I have it. I found a new template for the website specifically designed for florists, and added some widgets so people can order directly. They can even schedule their deliveries online. I’ve connected a payment system to the business bank account.” She pushed her hair off her face. “By next week it should be up and running, and it’ll be beautiful.”
Sometimes Lucy’s energy and enthusiasm made Connie feel even older than she was. And tired.
“I have no idea what any of that means,” she said, “but I’ll take your word for it. Your pink is almost gone.”
“What?” Lucy lowered the camera. “Oh, my hair? Yeah, that was fun, but I’m not sure it’s really me.” She ran her fingers through the honey blond strands. “I had a She-Ra moment after I left North Carolina, and dyed it in a hotel room sink. Along with cutting off about six inches of it. My way of...shedding my old self, I guess.”
“You cut off your own hair? And dyed it?”
“Well, I didn’t dye the stuff I cut off.” Lucy winked. “But yes. It was a statement. To myself, more than anything else.”
“But now you regret it.” She thought people only cut and dyed their own hair in crime shows, when they were on the run.
“Not at all.” Lucy shrugged, setting the camera on the counter so she could move the birthday arrangement for a different angle. “Just because I’m letting the pink wash out doesn’t mean I didn’t like it at the time. And this length is more my style. It was my almost mother-in-law’s idea to let it grow so long—she thought it would be easier to put up for the wedding. But since that’s not happening...”
“Are you sure about that? Owen seems pretty determined to win you back.” Connie had torn into Iris for sending him work for her without mentioning he was Lucy’s ex. But once the dust had settled, the man had proved himself to be more than a pretty face. He was polite, hardworking and honest. And the looks he sent Lucy’s way melted even Connie’s hardened heart.
Lucy hesitated. “I... I’m sure.” Then she nodded briskly, more to herself than Connie. “If I’m going to make a fresh start, I need to leave everything behind. And everyone.”
“You don’t sound very convincing to me. And leaving all your friends and family behind is a bit drastic. Has it occurred to you that the common denominator in all your troubles is...you?” Lucy looked up in surprise. Connie kicked herself. She was caring again, damn it. “I mean...maybe you need to change something other than your hair if you want to find love. And happiness.”
“You’re saying it’s my fault?”
“No!” Connie flinched when the bell over the door chimed, but it was just Cecile. She nodded to her friend before facing Lucy again. “I’m saying you can’t hide from your troubles. If things were that bad in North Carolina, the
n how did they get to that point without you noticing? You didn’t just wake up on your wedding day and decide everyone in the world was awful, did you?”
“Ooh...” Cecile grinned as she walked toward Lucy. “Are you getting life advice from Connie Phelps? The woman who’s basically made herself into a hermit for the past three years? This oughta be good.”
As usual, Cecile was decked out in pink, wearing a neon sundress and pink leopard-print flats. Her hair seemed brighter and fluffier than usual, indicating she’d probably just come from Suzy’s Clip & Snip again. Her eyelashes were ridiculously long and seemed to be glittering. No one could deny Cecile had a unique sense of style.
“What the hell are you blathering about?” Connie fixed her so-called friend with a glare. “If anyone knows about unhappiness, it’s me. I mean...dealing with unhappiness. Like the unhappiness caused by rat fink friends who like to laugh at me.”
Cecile just rolled her eyes. “Stop complaining before your face freezes like that. Oh, wait—I think it already has.” Lucy made a squeaking sound that was suspiciously close to laughter, and Cecile nudged her with her elbow. “Believe it or not, our lovely Miss Connie here used to enjoy laughter. The best New Year’s Eve party in town was at the Phelps house, and they used to throw big barbecues every Labor Day. Oh, my God, do you remember the water balloon fights we used to have? We’d get the kids started, but it always ended up as a free-for-all.” Cecile leaned her hip against the counter. “And then one day she woke up and decided—” she made air quotes with her fingers “—everyone in the world was awful.”
