by Joan Kilby
She wished she could be more like her father, imperturbable. Instead, she was like the bees, buzzing around in pointless circles, angry and upset because the carefully erected walls of her world had suddenly been torn down, exposing her vulnerable interior.
As she watched her dad moving slowly and deliberately through his routine of removing honey from the hive, it had a strangely calming effect on her. She began to feel ashamed of her part in the altercation with Angus, both for allowing her emotions to get the better of her, and for coming here with unreasonable demands. Her father didn’t need her bursting in on him at home to demand that he fix work problems she should be able to handle.
Seeing Angus again had brought unresolved feelings to the surface—attraction, anger, longing, resentment—emotions she’d thought she’d overcome long ago. He clearly had his own hangups that she hadn’t been aware of. He’d suspected her of slumming to be with him. What did that say about how he saw himself? It made her chest hurt to think of it. He wasn’t the bad guy. Neither was she. But it was an eye-opener how different their perspectives on their past were.
Having secured the honeycomb, Gordon put down the smoke pot and replaced the roof of the hive. The bees were still buzzing around but not quite as angrily. Her father came toward her, brushing off bees still clinging to his boiler suit.
Brianna retreated indoors ahead of him and waited in the safety of the kitchen while he took his protective clothing off in the laundry room. A few minutes later, he placed the basin with the honeycomb on the breakfast table.
“My bees are really active now with the warmer temperatures and the spring flowers.” He tilted his head, noticing her expression. “I thought you were going to a barbecue today. Is anything the matter?”
“I did go, but I left early,” she said. “I was passing so I thought I’d drop in.”
“How are you and Angus getting along?” her father said. “Okay?”
Trust her perceptive father to go straight to the heart of the problem. She ran a fingertip through the sticky honey and stuck it in her mouth for a burst of flowery sweetness. “We’re working out the ground rules.”
“Good to hear,” Gordon said. “I was afraid you might buckle. That you would find it too hard.”
“No, it’s fine,” she assured him. “I can handle it.” It might cost her, but she would, somehow. Then she changed the subject, saying brightly, “Angus is building a model of the resort. I’m going to put it on display in the information center.”
“You and Angus have a special creative energy when you get together,” Gordon said. “I’m proud of you for rising above the past for this project.”
When she thought of how close she’d come to chucking it all in, she leaned over and hugged him fiercely. “Thanks, Dad.”
His glasses were knocked sideways, and he righted them. “What’s that for?”
“You’re an inspiration.” Then she took another taste of the honey. “This is delicious. You should enter the food crafts contest at the festival.”
“Do you think it’s good enough?” he said. “I’d be up against commercial producers.”
“I think it’s amazing,” she said. “Why not try?”
“Maybe I will then. I’ll give you some to take home.” He broke off a chunk of honeycomb and put it in an empty jar he found in the cupboard. “Cup of coffee? Your mother should be home soon.”
“Thanks, but I need to get going.” She walked to the front door then paused. “There is one problem. Angus is concerned about having enough hands for the build. He wants to tap John Coates for his labor pool.”
“I’d rather not go to Coates,” her father said.
“Why, exactly?” she asked. “What’s the problem between you and him, anyway?”
Just then, her mother’s car turned into the driveway. Seeing Brianna, Anita Renton waved, then got out of the car and started to unload bags of groceries.
“Dad?” Brianna prompted.
“It was a long time ago, I can hardly remember.” He handed her the jar with the honeycomb. “I’d better help your mom with the groceries.”
Anita came up the steps, laden with bags. “Can you stay for dinner, Brianna?”
“Thanks, I’ve eaten.” She embraced her mother. “I’ll give you a call later in the week.” To her father, she said, “Thanks for the honey. The labor problem needs to be solved. Expect a call from Angus.” Maybe Angus, who was closer to the situation on the ground and had a working relationship with John Coates, could convince her dad to go that route.
As Brianna drove home, she thought about her father’s bland denial of any feud. She wasn’t fooled. There’d been bad blood between the two builders for as long as she could remember. She got the feeling her dad knew exactly why but didn’t want to talk about it. That was his prerogative, but it made her wonder.
Stewie greeted her at the door with his usual exuberant spinning around in circles. She changed out of her dress into jeans and took the dog down to her little beach. While Stewie snuffled in the undergrowth, she sat on the end of the dock and sent Angus a text asking him to talk directly to her dad about hiring from John Coates.
Finally, Stewie left his explorations to sit beside her and put a friendly paw on her knee.
“Angus and I should have talked things through five years ago,” she confided to the dog. “I didn’t think I was still hurt and angry, but clearly I am. Now I have to deal with him professionally and I would like to be friends with him, but he’s going away again so it’s not worth opening up my heart.”
Stewie pricked up his ears and tilted his head attentively. She scratched the dog behind his ears. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a really good listener?”
Too bad he didn’t have any answers for her. She would just have to suck up the pain. Accept reality and finally move on.
Chapter Six
Brianna kept herself busy for the rest of the weekend, determined not to dwell on Angus. She planted orange marigolds and purple pansies around her front door, made phone calls for the festival, visited artisans in their studios.
She also dropped in on a few friends who were at the barbecue to subtly set the record straight about her and Angus. They weren’t back together; they were merely working together on getting the hall built.
In between her various activities, she checked her phone for a message from Angus. Nada. She wished she knew what he was thinking. She started to text him half a dozen times, and then stopped, not wanting to risk getting into another emotional discussion with him. If she was going to keep things professional, it was better to restrict their contact to work-related issues. That included no more flirting.
She sighed. Rightly or wrongly, she had enjoyed that. The skin behind her ear tingled whenever she thought about him whispering to her. Had he almost kissed her? What had made him stop? She wouldn’t blame him if he was confused about the mixed signals she was sending. She was totally confused herself.
Late on Sunday evening as she was getting ready for bed, her phone pinged with a message from him.
“Been thinking of U all weekend. Sorry I upset you.”
Brianna shut her eyes on a sudden pinprick of tears. This situation couldn’t be easy for him, either. All her resolutions about keeping her distance evaporated in the desire to meet him halfway.
“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have run off like that.”
Seconds passed before another message. “Friends?”
Another surge of emotion caught her unawares. As well as the romantic feelings she’d had for him, she’d always deeply valued his friendship. Losing that had been almost as traumatic as losing him as her boyfriend.
“Friends,” she replied.
“Mind if I drop by?”
She glanced down at her pajamas and fuzzy slippers. “It’s late.”
“I won’t stay long. I have something for you.”
“Okay. Just for a minute.”
She was heading for her bedroom to change when she
heard a knock. A smile curled one side of her mouth. She opened the door. “All the time we were texting you were right here? What would you have done if I’d said no?”
“I’d have left this on your doorstep.” Angus was holding the scale model of the community hall he’d built on a piece of plywood. He’d painted the dowels a rich golden brown to mimic the cedar logs from which the hall would be constructed.
“Wow, that’s amazing!” She forgot all about her pajamas and opened the door wider. “Bring it into the living room.” She ran ahead and cleared her teacup and papers off the coffee table so he could set the model down.
Angus lifted the roof off so she could see the rooms inside. “I made the back entrance wider so it’s easier to bring in furniture. I also made the windows bigger for more light, and a better view of the lake. Just tweaks, like I said. You should come down to the site and see how things are going.”
“I’ll do that.” She picked up a tiny tree that was part of the surrounding landscaping. “Cute.”
“That’s from a model train set I had as a kid,” he said. “Would you believe, my mom still had it tucked away in a cupboard?”
“She’s probably saving it for—” Brianna broke off. She’d been about to say for his children, the way her mom had saved toys for her brothers’ kids.
He didn’t ask what she was going to say. Had he guessed the direction of her thoughts just now? Maybe. At the barbecue he’d seemed almost wistful as they’d watched their friends’ kids at play. Back when they were dating, they’d shared their ideas on marriage and children although in a noncommittal way. More testing out each other’s values than making plans. But they’d had remarkably similar dreams along those lines. A home on the water, working locally, family and friends at the center of their lives.
Keeping her gaze on the model, she apologized again. “I’m sorry for running away from the barbecue.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He touched her hand lightly. “I think it’s good that we talked, though. It cleared the air somewhat.”
She turned her hand over and felt the warmth of his palm. “I want you to know I wasn’t slumming.”
He winced. “That was more about me than you.”
“I thought you were awesome,” she added. “I still do.”
“Same.” His fingers closed around her hand and he started to draw her closer.
“Angus…” She pulled her hand away. She had to stop sending mixed signals. They were a sign of her confusion, of the push and pull between attraction and fear of getting hurt again. “Did you stay long at the barbecue?”
“No, I left soon after you.” He paused. “Apparently some people are saying we had a lover’s quarrel.”
“They won’t be for long,” she said. “I’ve gone to considerable trouble this weekend to let people know we’re not together.”
“It’s not sinking in,” Angus said. “Will and Garrett have been giving me advice on how to sweet talk my way back into your good graces.”
“I’m beginning to think there’s a conspiracy to get us back together,” Brianna said. Had her friends believed a word she’d said? Curious, she perched on the edge of the sofa. “What did Will and Garrett suggest?”
“Everything from dinner at the Montreau to flowers to a box of handmade chocolates,” he told her. “It’s clear the flowers didn’t work.”
“The flowers are beautiful, I love them,” she said quickly.
His swift smile deepened the dimple in his left cheek. “Let’s move on to dinner, then.”
She almost said yes, tempted by the banter and fun. When she was with him, it was too easy to forget that he wasn’t sticking around. “No, we haven’t reconciled.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t.”
“You’re so stubborn.”
“Takes one to know one.”
The playground taunt made her laugh. He had a knack of dissolving her bad humor with silly remarks.
“You’d better go before we have to settle this with an arm wrestle and I embarrass you by beating you.” She walked him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He paused on the threshold, humor in abeyance as his gaze turned serious. “Bri?”
“Yes?” Darn it, she’d almost escaped without a direct hit to her heart.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, either.”
He bent his head and kissed her cheek. Mingled pain and joy flashed through her, and a yearning to be closer. But he was already easing away.
“Truce?” he said, his voice rough. He held out his hand for her to shake on that.
“Of course. We have to get through the rest of your time here.” But she kept her hands tucked beneath her armpits. His touch affected her too much.
“Come on, don’t leave me hanging.” He offered her his hand again. “And don’t make me apologize for a peck on the cheek.”
“Oh, all right. Just don’t do it again.” She put her hand in his. Her eyes shut as his warmth and strength flowed into her.
“Next time you choose when we kiss,” he said.
Her eyes flew open and she started to say there wouldn’t be a next time then caught the gleam in his eye. “I see what you’re doing.” She gave him a little shove. “You are so annoying.”
“You are so easy to annoy.”
She closed the door on his grin before he could tease her into flirting some more. Then she leaned against the door, aware that her blood was fizzing. It was good to be friends with him again.
Problem was, now that they were, it was going to be really hard to stop herself from wanting more.
*
The next morning, Brianna arrived at work to find her inbox bursting with photos of cherry blossom buds sent in by townsfolk. Some were from commercial orchards, some from backyard trees. She selected a dozen of the best photos and put them on the festival website.
“The blossoms are progressing fast,” she said to Sarah. “Some buds look like they’re at stage three already. See, on that one, the little leaves are starting to open and the flowers are coming out.”
“Sepals,” Sarah said. “Those little green leaves around the bud are called sepals. The flowers at that stage are called florets.”
Brianna glanced up in surprise. “Are you a botanist?”
“I’ve been reading up on it,” Sarah replied. “The buds that are more advanced probably get more sunlight, or are in a more sheltered position. Plus we’re having such a warm spell. Another week of this and they should be in stage four. After that, it goes quickly.”
“In your expert opinion, will the blossoms be out in full bloom for the festival?” Brianna held up two crossed fingers. “Please say yes.”
“Depends on the weather between now and then.” Sarah went back to her computer and checked the long-term forecast. “It’s looking good. Warm and mostly sunny for the next two weeks.”
“Phew.” Brianna had a thought. “Since you’re our resident blossom expert, why don’t you write a blog on all things cherry blossom—FAQs, answer questions, stuff like that?”
“Sure, that sounds fun!” Sarah said.
“Oh, by the way, I got a reply from Japan. Take a look.” Brianna called up the relevant email and stood aside so Sarah could see.
“It’s in Japanese,” Sarah said, grinning. “I wonder if they understood your email.”
“Who knows, but it was worth a try.” Brianna shrugged. “I suppose I could use a translation app and see what it says.”
But she forgot all about doing that as she got caught up in organizing the festival schedule and making phone calls to musicians, food vendors, and more.
Finally, she noticed it was nearly lunchtime and rose from the computer. “I’m going to walk over to the building site and see if Angus was able to hire more crew.”
A truce and a declaration of friendship surely meant they could see each other without it meaning something more. Not that she needed to rati
onalize a visit. As project manager, it was natural for her to check on progress.
“Have you and Angus made up?” Sarah asked.
Brianna’s cheeks heated. “What do you mean by that?”
“I heard you had a fight at Will and Mia’s barbecue.”
“It wasn’t a fight, just a… discussion about when he left to go to college.”
“I heard you stormed out of the party.”
“Who said that?” Brianna asked, horrified that even after her efforts to quell speculation, she and Angus had become a topic of gossip.
“Only Skye,” Sarah said as if conceding that the waitress wasn’t the most reliable source. “But she must have got it from someone else.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go see him at the building site,” Brianna said.
“If you avoid him, it looks like you are mad at him.” Sarah hesitated then added, “Are you?”
“No,” Brianna said slowly. Troubled yes, angry no.
“Do you still have feelings for him?” Sarah asked gently.
“I’ll never stop caring about him,” she said. “But it doesn’t mean we’re going to get back together. I’m just trying to get through this period, enjoy the time I have with him, and then let him go.”
A sudden thought gave her a chill. As long as his mother lived in town he would return to see her. How many more times would she have to let him back into her life temporarily, only to have to let him go again?
“Oh, Brianna.” Sarah rubbed her arm in sympathy.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “You’re right, I can’t avoid him or people will talk all the more. I’m going to treat him like any other friend.”
And to prove it, she did what she would do for any friend. She went to the deli and bought food for an impromptu picnic by the lake. They might as well enjoy the glorious day while they talked over any timing issues for the hall.
At the build site, music blared from a portable radio. Overall-clad plumbers were digging trenches for pipes. Angus and his three carpenters were stacking yellow cedar logs on the concrete slab. The wall was up to chest height and they had a portable winch to help lift the logs.
