Hope's River

by McHeyzer , Margaret

  “It’s my pleasure to gift you with this. I only ask one favor.”

  “What’s that?” She looks at me, and I can’t help to see the amazing love in her eyes.

  “I’d like to borrow the earrings at some point so that I can get the right green paint for the house. Would you mind?” She opens the tin, and takes the pouch out offering it to me. “No, you hold on to them. When I need them, I’ll ask for them.” She places the tin on the counter, and lays the earrings next to the tin. She throws her arms around me, hugging me with surprising ferociousness.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, are we ready to go to the candy festival?”

  “Let me put this away, and then I’m good to go.” She takes the tin, clasping it close to her heart, and walks down the hallway.

  Meow.

  Looking down, I see Cat’s laying near the dishwasher. “What? You can’t come. You have to stay home.”

  Meow.

  “Come on, get your butt back home.”

  Meow.

  I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not taking you with us. You’ll get lost or trampled on. Come on, let’s go.”

  Meow. He keeps sitting, refusing to move. Meow.

  I walk to the front door, and hold it open. “Cat!” He slowly strolls toward me. This cat has serious attitude. “What are you, a teenager who doesn’t listen?”

  “Are you talking to the cat?” May asks when she enters the kitchen and grabs one of the bowls.

  “He’s stubborn. He wants to come with us, but I told him he has to stay here.”

  May easily cruises past me, holding one of the filled bowls. She gives me a sideways glance, and slightly tilts her head. “Is The Cat talking to you, Hope?” she asks in a slow deliberate voice.

  “No, he’s not. But I can tell he’s being all judgey and shit with me.”

  “Aha, I see.” She gets to the door and says under her breath but loud enough for me to hear, “And they say I’m a crazy old lady.”

  I chuckle. “Come on, I’m going. Get out.” Cat stands, stretches, then yawns. He tiptoes like damn royalty past me. “You’re a pain.”

  He glares at me, and saunters away.

  “Hey, I own you, you don’t own me.” Yeah, right.

  Shit, I feel so nervous being here today. I know I’m going to run into River, and I don’t want to be forced to talk to him. I want to keep it as professional as possible.

  “Can you see if Elle will bring me a coffee please?” May asks as she places the potato salad bowl on the table, then takes the one I’m carrying and lays it beside it.

  “Sure. Do you want anything else?” I ask.

  “No, thank you.”

  I walk up to Elle’s café, and open the door. Elle’s behind the counter, frantically trying to get things ready. She looks up, smiles, looks down, then back to me. Her smile drops.

  So does my heart.

  Murray turns and sees me standing at the entrance. “Hope, I haven’t seen you in here for a few days.”

  “How are you, Murray?” I walk up, and stand beside him.

  “Better than your face.” He holds his mug up, and laughs.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “Hope,” Elle says with a coolness that sends shivers down my back.

  “Elle.” I try to offer her a smile.

  “Right, I’m out of here. Thanks, Elle. On my tab, yeah?” Murray says.

  “Sure thing, Murray.”

  Murray tips his head and exits the café, leaving Elle and me on our own.

  I hate knowing I’ve hurt her. I have to fix this. “Do you need help?” I ask as I peer over the counter and see she’s making platters of sandwiches.

  She screws her mouth up, then nods. “Can you wash your hands, and there’s gloves over there. Then I need you to cut those.” She’s giving me a lifeline, an opportunity to right my wrong.

  I follow her gaze, and get to helping her. The tension is palpable. That’s not how I want it to be. “I’m sorry,” I say.

  She gives me a quick look over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she says.

  “I was a wiener, and I shouldn’t have been.”

  There are a few seconds of silence, before she laughs. “A wiener? You’re calling yourself a dick?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “It takes a strong woman to admit she’s being a dick. And I appreciate it. Don’t be a wiener again.”

  “I’ll try not to. Anyway, did you hear I broke my nose?”

  “I did. And I wanted to see if you were okay. River told me he was looking after you, so I left it alone. And now, he comes in here all moody and shit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s barely talking to any of us. He comes in, gets his coffee, and leaves. He’s not his normal self. Don’t get me wrong; he’s never been a huge talker or anything, He’s always been really pleasant. Now, he’s like a grumpy old man.”

  Shit, I did that to him. My heart drops and my stomach clenches knowing I’ve hurt him so much it’s affecting how he’s acting in his own home town. The quicker I get this house done and sold, the better it’ll be for him. When I’m gone, he can move on, and forget all about me. Elle says something, but I don’t hear her because I’m caught in my own self-pity party. “Huh?”

  “I said, how did you break your nose? I heard you were jogging and fell. Is that true?”

  “Me? Jogging? No chance. But I was trying to run away.”

  “Sure, because that sentence isn’t confusing at all,” Elle teases.

  Things seem easy with Elle and myself, we’re back to the way we were. “I was ogling River while he was wet…”

  “River was wet?” She stops what she’s doing to look over to me.

  “It’s a long story. But basically, I was down at the growers’ market, having just bought donuts and a coffee. So, I sat my butt on one of the benches, and was people watching. Wondering about what they could be thinking about.”

  “You do that?”

  “Yeah, all the time. Don’t you?”

  “Hell, no. I already know nearly everything that goes on in Hope River. Anyway, tell me how you ended up with this lovely shade of black and blue around your nose and eyes.”

  “So, I was watching this guy who was swimming, and when the guy emerged from the ocean. I was ogling his nice, rippling, wet body. I had no idea who it was, until he came closer.”

  “River,” both Elle and I say in unison.

  “I may or may not have said something stupid like…Oh, keep in mind, I may have actually yelled it, not said it.”

  “Crap, what did you yell?”

  “I may or may not have yelled, I can’t have sex with you, because all I was thinking about was having sex with him.”

  Elle purses her lips together, and her mouth lifts on the sides. “I’m not laughing,” she says.

  Yeah, she is. “I may have turned and tried to run so I wouldn’t screw him right there. And I may have tripped and face planted. And I may have embarrassed myself. Just a bit.”

  I look over to Elle, who’s silently cackling to herself. “There are a lot of ‘mays’ going on in those sentences.”

  “I’d like to say the ‘mays’ are hypothetical. I’m going to pretend they are.”

  Her silent cackling morphs into full-on belly laughs. “What happened?”

  “He took me back to his house to look after me and made me chicken soup.”

  “Did you two have sex?” Elle leans over to hear all the awesome details.

  And this is where it all becomes awkward. I sigh, and finish cutting the sandwiches, then line them on the tray she’s placed beside me. “It was heading that way, but no. He got a call about his dad.”

  “Ohh, this is when his dad had a stroke, and when River came back, he was so worried. But his dad is doing good. Thankfully.”

  “Yeah, thankfully.” I try to end the conversation there. Not offering anything else. But I know Elle is itching f
or more details.

  “Then what happened?”

  I may as well tell her. “River and I have history. And it’s never worked out in the past, so I can’t go there again. It hurt too much, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to go there again.”

  She clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth, then huffs. “So, you’re saying it won’t work?”

  “It won’t work,” I confirm.

  “Why?”

  “Because it never has in the past.”

  “Right. And why hasn’t it worked in the past?”

  “Circumstances. We’re forever being pushed apart.”

  There’s a long silence between us, which is totally uncomfortable. It’s forcing me to remember the times we had together. “Do you want to elaborate?”

  “It’s like we’re being pushed together, only for us to be ripped apart again. Three times, Elle. Three times we’ve found each other, and three times we’ve been pulled apart.”

  “How old were you both?”

  “Sixteen, eighteen and twenty-one. And, now. But I can’t do it again. When he first left, it hurt. But the second time, man…” My eyes well up with tears. “That one broke me. Absolutely tore my heart out and crushed it. Then the third time, I thought he betrayed me, and I ran without giving him a chance to explain. Now, we both lead different lives.”

  She smacks me on the upper arm. “Different lives?” she nearly yells. “What are you talking about? You flip houses for a living. He’s an electrician who’s working for you. How is that different lives? You’re both here, in Hope River. Hope freakin’ River. Get it? Both of your names are in the name of the freakin’ town! Anyone can clearly see what you both mean to each other, and you’re saying you lead different lives? Are you kidding, Hope?” Man, she’s seriously hardcore passionate about trying to prove a point.

  “Calm down before you explode,” I say.

  She closes her eyes, and breathes in deep. Opening her eyes, she gives me a small smile. “You have to give this thing you both have one last chance, because if you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  “Elle, once Old Roger’s house is done, I’m leaving. And it’s not fair to River or to me to start something that’s already got an expiration date.” I finish with what she wanted me to do.

  “What a shame,” she says.

  Ugh, she’s baiting me to ask her what she thinks is a shame. I won’t do it. I refuse to. Nope, not going to ask. “What’s a shame?” Ugh, damn it, Hope.

  “It’s a shame you can’t see what’s in front of you.” She leans in and gives me a hug. “It’s okay, we still have time. Now, can you help take these out? Oh, are Gran and Tabitha here too?”

  “Shit! May wanted a coffee. I forgot.”

  “I’ll grab her the coffee, can you bring these two out, then come back in and help?”

  She rushes around grabbing a mug, and pouring coffee into it. She takes the mug out, and I follow while holding two platters.

  Sitting beside May is River. They’re talking.

  Shit.

  “Hope,” he says as he stands and takes a step closer to me.

  Shit, shit, double shit.

  I shouldn’t have come today.

  I can’t do this.

  “Hope,” he says again as he notices my hesitation. He takes the platters out of my hands, quickly places them on the table, then returns to me.

  Elle notices how uncomfortable I am, glances between River and myself, and opens her mouth to say something. But I beat her to it. “Do you think you can take May home? I’ve got to go.” I flick a look between her, then River.

  Elle positions her body between me and River. She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “If you don’t want him, tell him. But if you’re scared, then I think you owe him the truth,” she whispers.

  I thought she was on my side. “Elle,” I sigh, slightly frustrated.

  “You owe it to yourself, and to him, to be honest.” She steps back and smiles. “Sure, I can give Gran a ride home.”

  “What am I? Chopped liver? I can make my own damned way home. You don’t have to treat me like a child!” May snaps at all of us.

  “Sorry, May,” I say as I lower my gaze in shame.

  “Sorry,” both River and Elle say.

  “Elle, can you give me a ride home later, please?” May asks.

  “Sure thing, Gran.”

  “See, I can arrange my own way home.” She sits tall and proud, while reaching for a cracker.

  I should’ve known better.

  “Hope,” River says reminding me we need to talk.

  I’m resigned to the fact we both need to get this sorted once and for all. But is now the ideal time to settle this?

  Ugh. I know if I don’t get this done, then I’ll keep avoiding him. Hell, isn’t that what I’ve been doing? Dodging him at every possible opportunity?

  Right, I have to pull my big girl panties on, and face this.

  “Fine, let’s talk,” I say.

  Elle’s smile is wide. And I can’t help but notice, May’s is too.

  Does everyone know?

  What a stupid thought. Of course, everyone knows.

  River catches up to me as I veer away from the listening ears, and watchful eyes. “My place or yours?” he asks.

  I need to mentally prepare for this. I can’t go in just like this, and have a discussion with him.

  I stop walking, and River does the same thing. “Tonight. And at your place, not mine.” That way I can leave when I’m ready.

  “I’ll make dinner for us.”

  “This isn’t a date, River.”

  He narrows his eyes, then smiles. “But we both have to eat. Unless you want to watch me eat, and you can sit there hungry?”

  Smart-ass. “Fine.”

  “A thank you would’ve been nicer.”

  Taking a deep breath, I look down, and nod. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Yep, he will, I guess.

  My stomach has been going crazy. The butterflies have been on high alert since I got in my truck and headed for River’s.

  I’m parked in his driveway, and all I can do is look out the windshield toward the beautiful ocean. It’s coming on dusk, and even though it’s not full sunlight, I can still see the waves out at sea, that disappear to nothing more than rapid water as they get closer to the shore.

  Opening the door to my truck, I’m hit with the sea salt aroma.

  My stomach is knotting, and vomit is quickly bubbling up to the back of my throat. Why am I so nervous? This is what I want, right?

  I walk the twenty-odd steps up to his front door slowly, dragging my feet, hoping to avoid the evitable. The, final goodbye. The, we’re best off as friends.

  Standing in front of his door, it takes every ounce of strength to knock instead of turning, running back to my truck, and hightailing it out of here. God, why is this so damn hard?

  Lifting my hand, I make a fist to knock.

  “Ugh, what the hell is wrong with you?” I scold myself as I step back, and turn in a pointless circle. “Get on with it.”

  I take a deep breath, look straight at the door, and face this head-on. Letting out the breath, I knock once, take a step back, and wait for him to open the door.

  Get it together, Hope. Get. It. Together.

  River opens the door, and he’s dressed simply in jeans and a gray shirt, with bare feet. Jesus. Give me strength. Thank God I didn’t shave my legs. He is one fine specimen of a man. His tousled dark hair is glistening, so he’s likely come out of the shower. I want to shower with him.

  What? No! No, I don’t.

  “Hope.” He smiles then steps aside. Gesturing, he waits for me to come inside.

  “River,” I say in a rough voice. What the hell? Why does my body and brain keep fighting me on this? We’re not suited. We don’t belong together. He closes the door behind me and my eye goes straight to the picturesque sliding door framing the ocean. “That
is perfect,” I say as I walk over to it and look out.

  “It’s one of the reasons I love it here. Can I take your jacket?” I shrug out of my cardigan, giving it to River. He takes it, and places it on a coat stand. “I hope you’re hungry, I’ve made clam chowder.” Damn it, I hate how he can cook. Why does he have to be so great? “Wine?”

  “No, thank you.” I want a clear head. My hands sweat, and I run them down the front of my shirt.

  The air between us isn’t easy, or even pleasant. I feel like I should rip this band-aid off, once and for all. He must be feeling the tension too. It can’t just be me. “Hope, why don’t we take a seat outside while the chowder finishes cooking?”

  I can’t let myself be seduced by something I can’t have. This view, him, us. I can’t have it, because it’s never ended well for us in the past; it won’t this time either My heart is racing, and I feel myself on the brink of tears. “I can’t do this, River,” I say, blurting what I’m thinking.

  “You can’t do what?” he asks. “Sit outside and enjoy the sound of the ocean?”

  I turn, looking him straight in the eyes. But I take a step back, because I know how he affects me. He makes me want to do extremely naughty things with him. I point to him. “You. I can’t be with you.”

  “Because you don’t feel anything for me?” He steps closer, I step back.

  “Because every time we’ve tried, I’ve always ended up so broken, I didn’t know if I’d be able to breathe again.”

  “And here you are, breathing,” he challenges.

  “Don’t be an ass.” I look away, annoyed. “I can’t survive losing you again.”

  “What if this isn’t another time, but the last time? What if everything’s aligned for us this time and we’re meant to be together?”

  “And what if we’re not?” I question. My shoulders sink down, and I walk over to the door. Turning my back to River, I try and gather my thoughts into words. “I thought what we had was perfect, but it only ever lead to heartache.”

  “You weren’t the only one who was hurt, Hope.”

  “I never said I was,” I snap at River without turning. “But I can’t go through it again.” Turning, I face him. “Aren’t you tired of us being torn apart every time we think we’ve finally figured it out?”