by Maisey Yates
She was...visible. All her flaws known. To her town, her family, herself. But there was a freedom in that. Not the same as that jaded lack of caring she’d felt a few weeks back.
Like she’d found a way to love all that was flawed in her. To accept that others might never understand, but that she could be at peace with herself, anyway.
So Anna found herself walking in bravery and vulnerability out in the sun. And it was glorious.
During her Monday delivery, she didn’t think of Thomas at all. She didn’t think about people staring at her. She didn’t worry about her interactions with anyone.
Xavier was at Sunset Bay Coffee Company again, at the same table. This time, he was the one who came to Anna.
“Hi, again,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said. “Hi.”
“We keep running in to each other. And I’ve missed my chance all these other times. I wanted to give you my number.” He handed her a piece of paper that already had his number on it. “You can put it in your phone if you want. Or lose it. Up to you.”
“I... I’m not going to lose it,” she said.
And she didn’t feel the need to warn him about the rumors, or ask him about them, or try to talk him out of making a connection with her. Because she wanted one with him. And whatever it became, whatever reaction he had when he found out—if he didn’t know already—she’d deal with it then.
“Good,” he said, grinning. “I hope you call it soon, too.”
“I think I will,” she said. “I have to run, I’m doing deliveries. But I will call it.”
She was feeling downright buoyant as she headed out of the coffeehouse, which was why it was doubly shocking when she ran in to a wide-eyed Laura, and was nearly physically accosted by her on the street.
“Anna,” she said. “I can’t believe I ran in to you.”
“I make deliveries here are a few days a week.”
“Did you hear about what happened in church yesterday?”
“No,” Anna said, frowning.
What happened now? Had Thomas burned her in effigy? Was there a scarlet A set up somewhere that she should know about?
“He apologized. For what he said about you. He said that it was wrong. He said that it wasn’t fair. That it was only one side of the story, and it was an easy side. He said that he hadn’t been a good husband to you, and that being faithful was only part of the equation when it came to marriage. He absolved you.”
Those last three words settled strangely in Anna’s brain, and everything kind of went fuzzy. “He...absolved me?”
“Yes. In front of everybody.”
“Oh.”
“He said that everyone was supposed to quit being awful to you. That—that Jacob dying had broken something that was already fractured. That he sees it a lot when he does counseling in church and...well, that it wasn’t surprising your marriage didn’t withstand it because it was stressed.”
“Wow,” she said.
And, oddly enough, that almost made her angrier than when he had dragged her name through the mud. Because mostly she just wanted it all to go away now.
And he was still putting the power in his own hands. Except...what other choice did he have? If he believed that he’d made a mistake, and she had been certain that when they’d spoken there had been a change in him. An agreement, and the sense that his own part in the failure of their marriage was real...
She had to assume, she supposed, that he was doing the best he could. That he felt genuine remorse over the way that he’d handled it.
She’d made a mistake. However their relationship had been in the end, her husband had seen her coming out of a bedroom with another man, directly after she’d had sex with him. She had hurt him. Even if it wasn’t in the way part of her petty heart might have hoped.
And then he’d hurt her with the way that he’d spoken about what had happened to the church congregation.
But all they could do now was their best to fix it. All they could do now was their best to move forward.
And this was his effort at...at healing. She had to believe it.
Because that was part of letting it go.
“Right. Well... I don’t even know what to say. I didn’t expect that.”
“Neither did anyone else. Least of all me. I still think we’re leaving the church.”
“You don’t have to. Not on my account. If it serves your spiritual needs, that’s why you should be there.”
“I’m not comfortable,” Laura said. “I can’t...go there again.”
The solidarity felt real, and it felt good.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll let you get on with your day. But let’s have coffee again?”
“Yes,” Anna said. “Let’s.”
With numb fingers, she found herself dialing Thomas’s phone number while she started her car. He picked up on the second ring.
“Why did you do that?”
“I had to try to fix what I did to you.”
It was sincere, the note of pain in his voice, and it made it hard for her to yell at him, even though she wanted to. What was the point, anyway?
“Thank you,” she said, instead of everything else she thought.
She felt her heart break open. There was a lot to be said, but not between them. Not anymore. Again, he thought he’d done the right thing, and maybe he had. She didn’t know.
But it wasn’t their problem to solve, not now.
That made her feel free. Much more than sad.
“I want you to know,” he said. “I think I loved you the very most that I can love someone like this. But I also realize that isn’t going to be enough.”
“I loved you, too,” she said. “So much. But I wanted to love you into a different person. And neither of us can do that for each other, or to each other.”
“Be happy, Anna.”
It took her a moment. But she finally figured out a way to mean the next words she spoke. “You, too.”
She got off the phone, her palms slick. And she realized that neither of them had offered each other forgiveness. And she was glad of that, because she didn’t want his.
She didn’t need his.
No, she needed her own. That was why the idea of him absolving her sat wrong.
They weren’t together. She didn’t require absolution from him. It needed to come inside herself. A spiritual reconciliation. With God, with her own heart. With those that she wanted to continue to have in her life.
That was where her love was—it was where her life was.
The lessons from those letters, from finding forgiveness and acceptance in her own family.
And it was all she needed.
She drove home, her thoughts spinning. And when she pulled up to the inn, she froze. Because Michael was standing there at the front door.
34
We are coming home. These years away have been hard, but through these trials I have been given a gift. I know what life I want to lead. I know what manner of man I am, and I will stand firm in that. I will not allow those who would seek to destroy us decide how we are to live.
I have seen what hate brings to the world. I would choose love.
Dearest Robert, I cannot wait to see you again. Finally.
—FROM A LETTER WRITTEN BY STAFF SERGEANT RICHARD JOHNSON, SEPTEMBER 1945
ANNA
“What are you doing here?”
She stared at this man in the bright sunlight and had...the strangest response. There was memory in her body, of what it had felt like when he’d touched her, and that was real. Very real.
But she didn’t look at him and feel like he was the most interesting, exciting man on earth.
She was much more excited by Xavier’s phone number than by Michael’s presence now.
She felt like sh
e was staring her own desperation full in the face. The desperation she’d felt at that point in her life. In her marriage.
“I miss you,” he said.
“It’s been months,” she responded.
“I know. I didn’t know how to handle that whole thing with your husband. I can’t say that I’ve ever had that happen before.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Me, either.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t handle it right. But I thought maybe we could start over.”
Anna realized with sudden clarity that she didn’t need him. To make her feel good about herself. To feel like a woman.
Just like she didn’t need Thomas to absolve her in front of the church.
She was so much stronger now. She wouldn’t have needed to use Michael to escape now. Her life stretched before her, full of endless possibilities.
She didn’t have to fall from one life to another, from one relationship to another. She didn’t have to shroud herself in shame and pain. She could have whatever life she chose.
She could call Xavier. She could find more places to sell her pastries to. She could open a bakery. Or she could stay working at the inn, living there with her mom and sister.
“I don’t want to,” she said. “I already started over. Here. By myself. I like where I’m headed.”
“Anna... I really cared about you.”
“I needed you to care. At that time I needed you more than I can express,” she said. “But I’ve been...dealing with myself. And I’ve changed. I need different things now. But...thank you. Thank you for caring for me when I was lonely.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then closed the distance between them, touching her face briefly. She felt warm, but not fluttery. Affection, but not love.
“If you change your mind...”
She smiled. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I have...so many choices and I don’t know where any of them will take me yet.”
He walked toward his car, got in and drove away. Toward what, she didn’t know. It suddenly seemed clear she hadn’t known him at all.
It hadn’t mattered who he was, since she hadn’t fully understood who she was.
Now she had some work to do. Work on her own. To figure out exactly what she wanted. What mattered to her.
And if she ever did get married again, when she did have another relationship, exactly what she wanted from it.
But today had brought home some very important facts.
She forgave herself. And she wasn’t bound to those two men anymore.
She was free.
And more than ready to stand on her own.
35
It’s a girl, El. She was so pretty. With red hair. I wish I could have kept her. I barely got to see her. I thought the most important thing was making sure Mom and Dad weren’t disappointed in me. But it’s not the most important thing. All I want is her happiness.
I wasn’t supposed to see, but I did. The family who adopted her is named McDonald.
—FROM A LETTER WRITTEN BY SUSAN BRIGHT TO HER SISTER, MAY 1962
WENDY
The mood in the kitchen that morning was subdued. Everyone was on hand to help. Well, Emma wasn’t helping so much as she was sitting in the corner, her chin in her hands. Anna had a straight posture, her chin held high, her movements bright and aggressive as she whipped about the kitchen, going in and out and serving guests, taking the helm like she was powered by caffeine and the Holy Spirit.
“What exactly is going on?” She directed that question at Rachel, who could not have looked more downtrodden if she tried.
“What do you mean?”
“Anna has a literal spring in her step, you look awful and Emma...” She looked over at her granddaughter.
“I think Luke is going to break up with me,” Emma said glumly.
“Why?” Rachel and Wendy asked at the same time.
“I told him I loved him and he got weird. He couldn’t tell me he loved me, too, and I told him I needed to hear it.”
“Oh,” Rachel said.
“I didn’t think it seemed unreasonable. We’re talking about being long-distance for years. And I...”
“You don’t have to justify yourself,” Rachel said. “You asked for what you wanted.”
“But I’m sad. Because I don’t want him to break up with me.”
“Why are you afraid he’s going to break up with you?”
“Because I told him if he couldn’t give me what I wanted, then he was the one that had to do it. I’m not giving him an easy out.”
Wendy laughed. “Well, I’m proud of you for that,” she said.
“Why didn’t anyone warn me how terrible this was?” Emma asked plaintively.
“I think we are all literally walking examples of how terrible this is,” Rachel said. “If you couldn’t make that observation, that’s on you.”
“I’m only eighteen,” Emma said.
“I thought you were wizened,” Rachel commented.
“Against my will,” Emma responded.
Anna came back in looking chipper. “What did I miss?”
“What did we miss?” Wendy asked.
“Thomas told the whole church that he was wrong about the way that he handled me. Then Michael came back, and I told him to go away. I feel...like I’m finally living my life. And it’s amazing.”
“Wow.” Wendy looked at Anna, pride coursing through her. “I’m proud of you. You did what I couldn’t manage for years. You’re strong, Anna. And I’m so glad you’re here, on the other side. I’m so glad you got yourself out, and didn’t let yourself stay so unhappy.”
Anna’s eyes went misty. She cleared her throat. “And someday...well, I’m open to finding someone. I hope I do. But it won’t be good unless I know who I am first. Unless I love me.”
“Well, you know we love you,” Wendy said.
“We love you, Mom,” Rachel said quietly. “I’m sorry about what I said. When you told us the truth. I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry that it was so easy for me to judge both of you,” she said, looking between Wendy and Anna. “Because I knew hardship, a very particular kind, and I thought because I did that I understood everything. But I had someone that I loved, and I had a lot of security in that. I hadn’t... Hadn’t dealt with how things can get so...messy.”
She stopped. “Even Emma has more experience with it than I do. And is probably handling it better.”
“Adam?” Anna had mentioned that Rachel was with Adam the other night, and Wendy knew enough to put the pieces together. The diner owner was a good man, and a handsome one. It didn’t surprise her that Rachel had feelings for him.
“Yes. I miss him. I miss him, and I miss him right over the top of missing Jacob, and I don’t know what any of that means. I don’t know...”
Wendy grabbed hold of Rachel’s hand. “You’re not going to stop missing Jacob. You don’t have to. I spent some time with a man recently who talked to me a bit about the death of his wife. And one of the things he said stuck with me. It doesn’t go away. I don’t think it ever does. It doesn’t shrink or grow smaller. But your life can grow around it. All of this love—your family, Adam—can expand. And that pain will be there, always. Something that you carry with you. A remnant of that love that you had. But everything you have now can grow brighter. Bigger. And eventually you don’t think of the pain every day. Eventually, it’s not the biggest thing.”
She nodded slowly. “I realized the other night that there was nothing more I could do for him. And part of me is still...trying. Because I know how to do things. I know how to show love that way. I know how to hold pain at bay that way. Adam wants to take care of me. And I—I have no idea how to let myself have that.”
“You just have to get out of your own way,” Wendy said. “It’s as simple and as hard as that. B
ut if there’s one thing we’ve learned over these last months, it’s that life moves on whether you wanted to or not. Things happen to us, and we do things that have consequences. But in the end, we get to choose what to do with the changes. Nobody gets to tell us what we are. Nobody but us.” She turned and pulled an egg soufflé out of the oven just in time. “And you don’t have to know right now. None of you do. We don’t need any epiphanies here. Not right at this moment. Because I’ll be here no matter what. Always. Because I love you right where you’re at.”
And then they all crowded in around each other in that tiny kitchen, and Wendy took all of her girls into her arms. And the real beauty of it was, she didn’t have to regret any of the years past. She might have found something new, something special, the revelation that she could have things she hadn’t previously believed she could. But she’d had the most important things all along, and she had them still.
She had her family. And they had her. No matter what. And they would grow and change even more over the years, but that fact would remain. Always.
36
Love takes as many shapes as the ocean here. Sometimes it roars, sometimes it sneaks to the shore, a massive wave that consumes with no warning. I have come to love the place. I have come to love the people. I have come to love the man. It is not what thought I wanted. But it is what I need.
—FROM THE DIARY OF JENNY HANSEN, MARCH 11, 1904
RACHEL
Rachel jerked open her front door and nearly ran into a young man standing there. His short, dark hair was sticking out at odd angles, and he had grease spots on his shirt, and his forearms.
Even without the grease, Rachel would’ve been pretty sure who she was looking at.
“Can I help you, Luke?”
He looked slightly surprised when she used his name, but didn’t express it. “Is Emma here?”
“Well, that depends. Are you going to upset her again? In which case, no, she isn’t here.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Did she tell you...? What happened?”
