From This Moment

by Melanie Harlow

  “I don’t know, Mom. It wasn’t a choice for me.”

  “But you’ve never even tried to find anyone else.”

  “I wasn’t a monk before I came home. I’ve known plenty of women and never fell in love before.”

  “You didn’t give yourself a chance! You took up with Hannah the minute you got back in town!”

  “When you know, you know.” I was determined to stay calm.

  “I just don’t understand how she can be in love with one brother for so long, and then suddenly decide she loves the other,” she sniffed.

  “It wasn’t like that, Mom. Hannah didn’t just decide to love me. Our feelings grew as we spent more time together.”

  “How do you even know she loves you? How do you know she’s not just substituting you for Drew?”

  That cut a little close to the bone, but I kept my temper in check. “The same way I know you love me. I can feel it.”

  She sighed. “I do love you, Wes. I want you to be happy, but I can’t accept this. It feels wrong to me.”

  “What about giving it some time?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean taking some time to reflect on it, try to see things from our point of view. See if you can find it in your heart to accept that we love each other and want to be together.”

  “And what if things go wrong?” she said. “Have you stopped to think about that? What’s that going to do to Abby? What’s that going to do to our family?”

  “Things aren’t going to go wrong.” I said it firmly and looked her right in the eye. “This is it for me. This is what I want. I know people are going to talk, and I don’t care about them. But I do care about you. I want you to be happy for us. Do you think you can?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked down at her hands.

  “Please, Mom. Hannah and I want your blessing.”

  “Are you sure she even cares what I think? I don’t think she does.”

  “Of course she does. She’s so upset right now, she asked me for a few days to think things over. She thinks she’s driving a wedge between us.”

  “She is,” my mother said petulantly.

  I ignored that. “I’d like to be able to tell her that you and I talked calmly and there’s hope for accord. Otherwise, I’m afraid she’s going to decide to end it. And that will break my heart.” I could have told her that I was going to be with Hannah whether I had her blessing or not, but I didn’t think that would get me closer to my goal. It would hurt and anger her, and that did nothing but make this worse.

  She continued to study her hands for a moment, and then she spoke. “I suppose I could give it some time.”

  I inhaled and exhaled, relief swelling in me. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I still might not be able to give my blessing.”

  “All I ask right now is that you try.”

  “Okay.” She looked at me again, a little hopeful this time. “Can I still plan a birthday dinner for you?”

  “Sure. Can you please include Hannah and Abby?”

  Her face fell. “Oh, Wes couldn’t I have you to myself for one night? I just want to make dinner for you here, nothing fancy. I want to make your favorite meal and talk about old times and remember Drew without feeling any awkward tension. You said I could have some time,” she said when she saw my expression. “Couldn’t I at least have one night? One little night? You said she wanted time apart anyway.”

  I considered it. On one hand, I didn’t want to do anything without Hannah, and I wanted my mother to see us together. The sooner she got used to us, the better. On the other, I had promised to give them both time, and in the grand scheme of things, what was one night? If I gave her that, maybe she’d be more favorably inclined toward me and Hannah moving forward. I’d be doing us a favor. “Okay.”

  Her face lit up. “What should I make?”

  “Surprise me,” I said.

  Around three that afternoon, I got a text from Pete telling me to go to Jack’s house instead of his. Jack lived in their parents’ old farmhouse, which was right across the road from the inn. As I hurried through the rain up to the front porch, a brown paper bag under my arm, I glanced at the lot where I’d said goodbye to Hannah this morning and wondered how she was doing. I hadn’t heard from her, and I hadn’t texted or called her after my conversation with my mother because I was trying to give her the time and space she’d asked for. She’d been so despondent, and she was so hard on herself.

  But I couldn’t help feeling more hopeful than I had earlier in the day. My mother was stubborn, but she would come around. I was sure of it.

  I knocked twice on Jack and Margot’s front door, and Pete answered it. “Hey, come on in. We decided to eat here so they didn’t have to drag all the baby shit over to our house. It’s easier just to drag Cooper across the street.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.” I followed him to the back of the house, where the kitchen was. It was much bigger and fancier than I remembered. “Wow. This place has changed a lot. Hey, Jack.”

  He nodded at me from where he sat at the kitchen table, feeding a baby a bottle. “Hey.”

  I set the bag I’d brought on the island. “I picked up some beer, but I promise not to drink so much I need a ride home.”

  Pete laughed, going over to a pot on the range and lifting the lid. “I’d make you walk in the rain. Cooper, get out from underfoot. You’re in my way.”

  A little brown-haired boy scurried out from behind the island, a toy truck in his hand.

  “Say hi,” Pete instructed.

  “Hi,” the little boy said before running out of the room.

  I shook my head. “The kitchen isn’t the only thing that’s changed around here. Look at you guys with kids. Anyone want a beer?”

  “Me,” they both said at once.

  I pulled three bottles from one of the six-packs I’d brought, and put the rest in the fridge. Pete handed me a bottle opener, and after prying off the caps, I set Pete’s beer near the stove and Jack’s on the table. He had the baby over his shoulder now, but he picked up the beer and took a long swallow.

  I grinned as I took the seat across from him. “Father of the year.”

  “You know it.”

  “Looks good on you.”

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  “The girls working?”

  “Yep.” Pete grabbed his beer and tipped it up. “Somebody’s gotta bring home the bacon. So what’s going on with you?”

  I took another pull on my beer and dove in. Earlier I’d decided to confide in the two brothers, mostly because I fucking needed someone in my camp after my mother’s reaction and seeing those texts on Hannah’s phone last night, but also because I could use their support to cheer up Hannah. If she heard there were more friends on our side, she’d feel better. “Well, originally I needed to talk to you because I’d been lying to my mother about where I’ve been at night, using you as my excuse.”

  “Huh?” Pete looked confused.

  “I’ve been telling my mother I’m hanging out with you at night, but as you well know, I haven’t,” I clarified.

  He cocked his head. “I don’t get it. Where have you been?”

  “With Hannah.”

  His head snapped upright when it sank in. His mouth fell open.

  “With her, with her?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s…interesting.” He rolled his shoulders. “How’d that happen?”

  I shrugged. “When I came home, we started spending time together and it just sort of happened. At first we tried to fight it, but it was impossible. So we hid it because of what people would say.”

  “Fuck people.” Jack’s tone was firm. “It’s not their business.”

  I had to smile, because it was kind of hilarious to see this big, muscular guy with an angry expression say fuck people while cuddling a tiny baby. “That’s what I said too, but Hannah is sensitive.”

  “She is,” agreed Pete. “Sh
e’s been quiet and kind of tense at work the last few weeks. No wonder. I was worried she didn’t like the job anymore, but Georgia told me she was just going through a rough time.”

  “She loves the job,” I assured him.

  “It’s hard to feel okay about moving on after your spouse dies,” Jack said.

  “I know, and the fact that it’s me adds a whole other layer of challenge.” I drank from my beer bottle again. “And then my mother found out.”

  “Oh, shit.” Pete’s eyes went wide. “What did she say?”

  “She freaked. Said it was wrong and disgraceful and that Drew was turning in his grave.”

  “It’s not true,” Jack said. “Don’t believe it.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t. I have to believe Drew would have wanted us to be happy.”

  “I agree.” Pete nodded. “I knew Drew a lot of fucking years, and he could be crazy and loud and obnoxious, but he was never selfish or mean. In fact, I think he would want it to be you, because he’d trust you.”

  Gooseflesh broke out on my back. “Thanks, you guys. I needed to hear that.”

  I hung out with Jack and Pete until around seven, when they had to get bedtime routines going for the kids. Back at home, I put away some laundry my mother had left on my bed, tackled some paperwork I’d been putting off, checked my email, and stretched out on my bed with a book. But after the three beers and three bowls of chili I’d had at Jack’s, I was drowsy and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I dozed off, and when I woke up, it was after nine. I picked up my phone and saw that I’d missed a call from Hannah. After listening to her voicemail, I called her back.

  “Hello?” she said softly.

  “Hey. Did I wake you?”

  “No. I’m in bed but I can’t sleep.”

  “I wish I was there.”

  “Me too.”

  A few beats of silence went by. “How’s Abby? You said she was okay today?”

  “Yes. We spent the day together and I think she’s okay.” She sighed. “I mean, who knows what’s going on in her mind, but I tried my best to answer her questions and make sure she isn’t confused.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s hard when she wants things I can’t give her, like a dad. It makes me feel helpless and sad.”

  “I know, baby. Hang in there. You’re doing things right.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How did it go when you picked her up?”

  “It wasn’t pleasant. But I handled it.”

  “What did my mother say?”

  “Probably the same things she said to you. She thinks we don’t really love each other, she thinks we’re being disloyal to Drew, she can’t believe I exposed my daughter to such shame, and she’s embarrassed of us.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She also wondered if we’ve given any thought to how awkward it’s going to be for everyone in the family after we break up.”

  “Ignore her.”

  “I’m trying, but it’s hard.”

  She sounded so sad, I was desperate to give her some good news. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but I told Pete and Jack about us.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They were one hundred percent supportive.”

  “That’s nice. And I don’t mind. Their wives know, so they might as well know.” She didn’t sound any better, so I tried again.

  “And I talked to my mom.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. She agreed to give herself some time to get used to the idea of us.”

  “Really?” Her voice rose.

  “Really. No guarantee, of course, but I have hope.”

  “How’d you convince her?”

  “I told her she could cook me dinner for my birthday.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I’d promised not to invite her. But it wasn’t that big of a deal, was it?

  “On Saturday? Your actual birthday?”

  “Yes.”

  There was an awkward pause. Should I tell her?

  “I take it I’m not welcome on the occasion.”

  It was like a punch in the gut. “Hannah.”

  “She wants you to herself.”

  “You know her well. That’s exactly what she said when I asked.”

  She was silent at first. “Of course it is.”

  “I only said yes because I figured in the grand scheme of things, this was only one night. We’ll have a lifetime together.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t give up hope.”

  “It’s just…been a hard day.”

  I wished more than anything I could take her in my arms and show her that she meant more to me than anything in the world. Words weren’t helping me. “You need a good night’s sleep. Call me tomorrow?”

  “Okay.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  But she said it like she wished she didn’t.

  Twenty

  HANNAH

  He chose her.

  It was all I could think.

  He’d had to choose, and he chose her.

  All night long, that thought pummeled my brain like a heavyweight champion, keeping me awake. While I was glad Wes had friends who were supportive, Lenore had forced him to choose between us, and he chose her.

  Just like that, my fears were magnified. Multiplied. Intensified.

  Maybe she really was going to re-examine her feelings about Wes and me—I had my doubts—but she’d scored a massive victory over me in the process. And Wes had delivered it. It felt like a crushing blow.

  How could I have trusted him with my heart? What was I going to do now that he had it? Could I get it back somehow?

  I must have fallen asleep eventually, because I woke from a terrible nightmare around five a.m. It was one from the nightmare grab bag I’d suffered in the months immediately following Drew’s heart attack, the one where I’m trapped in a closet being suffocated by someone or something I can’t see, or by darkness itself.

  When I opened my eyes, I was shaking and panting, drenched in sweat. My pulse thundered in my ears. I couldn’t catch my breath.

  I got out of bed and checked on Abby, who was sleeping peacefully. I was tempted to crawl into bed with her, but didn’t want to disturb her slumber. Back in my room, I changed the sheets, put on new pajamas, and attempted sleep again, but I only managed another forty-five minutes before my alarm went off.

  I dragged myself out of bed and skipped the shower, throwing on jeans and an old sweatshirt before waking up Abby for school. Now that it was October, the inn didn’t need me during the week. After half a pot of coffee I felt a little better, and I spent the morning putting together recipes for the inn cookbook and trying to come up with blog post ideas. When it was clear creativity had abandoned me in the wake of a near-sleepless night, I went back to bed and buried myself in the covers.

  It felt all too familiar, and it terrified me further.

  Around two, I forced myself to get out of bed and go downstairs. When I checked my phone, I noticed I’d missed a call from Abby’s school and had voicemail. Immediately, my sense of dread deepened.

  “Hello Mrs. Parks, this is Abby’s teacher, Kim Lowry. I’m a little concerned about Abby and wanted to touch base with you about something that happened today. I wondered if you might be available after school for a brief meeting? Give me a call back, please.” She recited her number and thanked me before hanging up.

  My stomach roiled as I imagined what could have happened at school to concern her teacher. My hands shook as I called her back. My voice trembled as I left a message saying yes, I would be there after school and thank you for calling.

  I ended the call and set my phone down, lowering myself onto a kitchen chair. For several minutes I sat there staring into space, feeling as if I were getting smaller and smaller and everything around me was getting bigger. The kitchen was cavernous. My h
ouse was enormous. The world was monstrously huge and spinning out of control. I couldn’t hold on.

  I shut my eyes and flattened my palms on the table. Stay calm. You can handle this. Whatever it is, you can handle it.

  After a few deep breaths, I went upstairs and took a shower.

  “Mrs. Parks. Thank you for coming.” Mrs. Lowry smiled at me, but it was the kind of smile you gave someone you felt sorry for, the kind where your eyes say you poor thing.

  I didn’t want her sympathy. “Of course.”

  “Please sit.” She gestured to one of five big round tables in the room, which were surrounded by chairs sized for kindergarteners. I chose a seat, and she took one across from me, smoothing her skirt behind her legs before she sat down. She was older than me, maybe in her fifties, with chin-length blond hair she kept off her face with a headband and tortoise shell glasses. “I wanted to talk to you about something Abby did today.”

  I glanced at the classroom door, which was closed. Abby was sitting right outside of it at a little table in the hall, coloring a picture of a butterfly Mrs. Lowry had given her. “What did she do?”

  “She tried to kiss a male classmate. On the lips.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes. The classmate was less than pleased, shall we say.”

  I pictured a six-year-old boy spitting and wiping his mouth on his sleeve to get the cooties off. “Right. Um, I’m sorry about that. Abby is an affectionate person.”

  “Yes, well, it goes a little deeper than that, I’m afraid.” Mrs. Lowry adjusted her glasses. “Afterward, when I was explaining to Abby why we don’t kiss our friends at school, she told me that it’s okay to kiss your good friends.”

  “Oh, no.” All at once, I saw where this was going.

  Mrs. Lowry went on. “She said that her mom and her uncle are good friends and sometimes kiss. She also told the class today that your uncle can be your dad if he marries your mom.”

  I closed my eyes. “Did she?”

  “Yes. And that she hoped her uncle would marry her mom so he could be her dad. As you can imagine, the children were quite confused by all this, and there was some arguing.”