Starting Over on Blackberry Lane--A Romance Novel

by Sheila Roberts

  “How did you feel when your husband got together with his trophy wife?”

  “That was different.”

  “How?”

  Because Babette is an airhead.

  That would hardly be either kind or appropriate to say. “We’re both adults. I’m not twenty. I’m old enough to know my own mind.”

  “Easy for you to say that now. But what if we got serious?”

  “Works for me.”

  “Will you be saying the same thing when I’m hobbling around in a walker and you want to go dancing?”

  “So you’d stand there and look cute and I’d dance around you.”

  “Don’t joke.”

  “Okay. No joking. Yes, there’s an age difference. So what? Do you think Babette cares? I can assure you Mason doesn’t.”

  “Ask them how well it’s working in twenty years.”

  “Maybe they’re happy right now. And you know what? Twenty years is a nice, long time to be happy.”

  “Well, I may not have twenty years,” he said, sounding as grumpy as she’d been feeling for the last few weeks.

  “No, you may not. But who knows how long I have? I could get cancer or have a heart attack.” He paled. “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “You’ve been down that road, and it had to be terrible. But doesn’t that show you what a crapshoot life is? Think of that poor girl who died last month.”

  “You’re really cheering me up here.”

  “I’m trying to make a point. All we have is now. You’re here. So am I. All our body parts are working. Let’s use them while we can.”

  * * *

  It was a tempting offer. Here was Cass, in his arms, soft and lovely, ready to give him anything he wanted. And he was feeling more and more like taking it. But that would be selfish.

  He looked away, trying to form some sort of rational argument that would get through to her. It was hard, because in a way what she said made sense. And he did want to spend more time with her. He was tired of being on his own.

  Then he happened to see Muriel on the other side of the street. She was visiting with a couple of other women, one of them Cass’s friend Dot, who owned Pancake Haus. They were both widows. Muriel had lost two husbands. Now here she was, alone again.

  If he and Cass got together, she’d wind up alone, too. That was how the odds were stacked.

  Muriel saw him looking, smiled and waved. He nodded a hello and said to Cass, “Is that how you want to end up, alone like Muriel?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m already alone.” She glanced over in time to see a man leading Muriel to the edge of the dancers. “Boy, she’s really suffering.”

  “Maybe not at the moment. But she’ll go home alone.”

  “So will we. Is that what you want?”

  No, he didn’t. But he wasn’t going to be selfish. Not getting involved with Cass was for her own good. The dance ended and he said, “Have fun,” and turned and walked off.

  “How am I supposed to do that when you keep running away?” she called after him.

  Online dating. Maybe it would work out better for her than it had for him.

  * * *

  Cass watched Grant leave and ground her teeth. The man was infuriating. And hopeless. She was through wasting time on him. There were other fish in the sea, other cookies in the oven, other pigs in the pen.

  Pigs in the pen? Whatever. She was done.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The sale on Griffin’s house had closed and she had to be out by the end of the month; come the thirty-first she’d be leaving for New York. She wanted to spend more time with Matt. She knew it was a bad idea, though, so instead she went home to visit her family and drop off the things she needed stored.

  That didn’t turn out to be a particularly good idea, either. While she was there, her father returned the check she gave him to repay him for the deposit on the house, along with instructions on how to manage her money.

  “If you find yourself in a pinch, you call us,” he said.

  “I’ll be fine,” she told him, but he looked doubtful, and that was hardly encouraging.

  “I think you could do just fine staying here,” Mom said. “There’s too much competition in New York.”

  Such a vote of confidence. Griffin found herself longing for a hot fudge sundae.

  And Matt. Perversely, now that she’d run away to Oregon, she wished she’d hear from him. He didn’t text or call and she’d resisted the urge to text him, not wanting to look pathetic.

  A week with her family was all she could take. Even though she now allowed herself to enjoy her mother’s cooking (thank you, Matt, for that lesson!), she still stopped eating when she was full and left food on her plate, which prompted Mom to worry that she had an eating disorder and bemoan the fact that they’d sent her away to that awful camp. This, of course, made her father look like a thundercloud with legs. Her brother reverted to their childhood roles, teasing her and hurling good-natured insults in her direction. And Dad reminded her constantly that if she failed (why did he think she would fail?) they were there for her.

  She loved her family but she decided it was best to love them from a distance.

  She was glad to return to Icicle Falls, where people didn’t know her past, didn’t see her as the fat girl. Or the timid girl who was bound to mess up. Here she was loved and appreciated. Beth Mallow had been delighted with the job she’d done, and it seemed that everywhere she went, people stopped her to tell her they could hardly wait to see the cookbook.

  “That’s why I can’t stay longer,” she’d told her mother when Mom was urging her to visit for another week. “I have to get back for the book-signing party.”

  “Just think, our daughter’s pictures are in a cookbook,” Mom had said. “You need to get me one.”

  The last thing her mother needed was another cookbook. She already had twenty. But Griffin promised.

  Now here she was at Mountain Escape Books on a Sunday afternoon, seated next to Beth at a little table and signing her name on the inside title page. The store was packed and everyone was raving over how beautifully the book had turned out. Beth had published it herself, sparing no expense, and it was, indeed, beautiful. When Beth had given her a copy as a present, Griffin had spent a good hour simply going from page to page, staring at the pictures. She’d done these. She really had. She’d take this to New York with her. In fact, she’d get several copies to hand out. If this didn’t sell her talent, nothing would.

  “You did an incredible job,” Cass told her. “Maybe someday I’ll write a cookbook and get you to do the photos. If you’re not too busy and important by then.”

  “I’d love to be busy and important, but I never want to be too busy for my friends,” Griffin said. Would she ever get back here? Would she ever see them again? Of course she would, she told herself firmly.

  Muriel came to the table to get her copy signed and give Beth a hug. “Your mother would be so proud,” she said to Beth, making her tear up.

  “I can’t thank Griffin enough for the fabulous job she did,” Beth said, taking Griffin’s hand and squeezing it.

  “The pictures are charming.” Muriel smiled at Griffin. “They make my mouth water.”

  “Then I’ve done my job right,” Griffin said.

  “You’ll be a huge success in New York,” Muriel predicted.

  “I hope so. Your book inspired me to go.”

  Muriel nodded her approval. “Good for you. I’m sure you won’t regret it.”

  There. Muriel Sterling-Wittman, the resident wise woman of Icicle Falls, said she wouldn’t regret it. Still, when she went to her going-away party at Cass’s house the following Sunday, she went with mixed feelings—fear, excitement, regret, happiness and, when she saw Matt there, doubt. W
hat was she doing?

  What she needed to do, of course. Since she’d told him she was going to Oregon to visit her parents, it was as if she’d said she was going to the edge of the world where there was no cell phone reception. And he’d only called once after she got back to tell her that he couldn’t come up for the book signing. His work schedule had changed.

  Yeah, right. She knew what he’d really been saying. She was leaving and he was cooling it. She told herself once more that it was just as well. The timing had never been right for them.

  But now here he was, looking casually gorgeous in a shirt hanging loose over jeans, and some flip-flops. And, speaking of flip-flops, there went her heart.

  He was by her side in a minute. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”

  “It feels like forever since we talked. You never called while I was at my parents’.” Boy, did that sound accusatory. As if they were boyfriend and girlfriend instead of two people who’d been rebounding from failed relationships.

  “I didn’t want to bug you when you were with your family.”

  A man in love wouldn’t care. She shrugged. “Oh, well. It doesn’t matter.”

  His brows furrowed. “It doesn’t, huh?”

  Her cheeks heated. “I mean, you didn’t have to. I just thought maybe you would.”

  “I guess I should have.”

  Yeah, you should.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I can take you to the airport. I’ve got tomorrow off.”

  “I thought your schedule had changed.”

  “That was only temporary.”

  Rather like their relationship. “Stef’s taking me. She took the day off so she could.”

  He nodded, taking that in. “Maybe it’s better that way. It’s hard to say goodbye. We’ll stay in touch, though. You’ll send me food pics on Instagram,” he added with a smile.

  “Facebook, Skype,” she reminded him.

  “There are some things you can’t do on Skype,” he said, suddenly morose, and she thought of his kisses.

  Their conversation ended when Stef came over and told her it was time to open her presents.

  Presents again, just like at the bridal shower for the wedding that never happened. But this time she was really going through with her plans.

  The presents were mostly gift cards and money. “Being a starving artist isn’t all that cool,” Cass joked as Griffin gasped over the hundred-dollar bill that fell out of her card.

  She had so many good friends here. “Thank you, everyone,” she said, smiling at them all. “You’re making it very hard to leave.”

  “Then don’t,” Matt said later when it was just the two of them sitting on her back porch with iced tea and a bag of pistachios.

  “I have to. I have to at least try.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get that. In a way I’m kind of jealous. You’re going to get out there and make something happen. I’m still all talk, no action.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Okay, that sounded rude. “I don’t mean what’s your problem. I mean, do you have a plan? Are you saving up?”

  “I was. Since the divorce, I feel like I’m back at square one.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “Oh, well,” he said with a fatalistic shrug. “I’ll get there eventually. Probably not as fast as you.” He smiled at her. Funny. She’d often read about characters smiling sadly. She’d never been able to imagine how they could do that. Now, looking at Matt, she understood. The lips went up halfheartedly, and his eyes... He almost seemed to be in pain. Maybe he was.

  She put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him, and he pulled her against him and kissed her back. He didn’t say it verbally but she could feel it in the passion behind his kiss. Don’t go.

  She did, though. The next day Stef drove her to the airport.

  Stef parked the car and went in with her as far as the TSA line. She pulled out a fat card envelope. “One more gift before you go.”

  “Friends forever,” the card read. She opened it to find a printout of her flight schedule for December, from the twenty-third through New Year’s Day. “I can’t believe you did this!”

  “I got hold of your mom,” Stef said. “Your whole family’s coming up for Christmas. They’re going to stay at the Icicle Creek Lodge. And,” she added, “you’re staying with us.”

  Tears invaded Griffin’s eyes. She’d been doing so well up until now. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll use it.”

  “Of course I will. Thank you!” Griffin hugged her and allowed those tears to fall. “You’re the best friend I ever had.”

  “And don’t you forget it. Just because you’re moving doesn’t mean you can’t come back for visits.”

  “I will.” Griffin said it as much for herself as her friend. Then she picked up her carry-on and moved into line, terrified but determined. She could do this.

  But did she want to?

  Too late now.

  * * *

  Stef returned home feeling down. But her spirits lifted when she found Brad and Grant busy installing the new tub in her master bathroom, with Petey a fascinated observer. “My tub!” she cried happily and hugged her husband. He was sweaty and dirty. And the best husband ever.

  “I figured you’d want to de-stress with a bubble bath tonight,” he said.

  That tarnished her moment of happiness and she decided she needed to take a walk to Gingerbread Haus.

  “Did you get her safely on her way?” Cass greeted Stef.

  “I did. It was so hard to let her go.”

  “It’s always hard to let friends go. At least you’ve still got the rest of us.”

  Yes, she still had her support system in Icicle Falls. Poor Griffin. She was all on her own.

  * * *

  Griffin had been in New York for two weeks, and they’d felt like the longest two weeks of her life. The city was crowded and expensive. And hot. She often longed for the fresh mountain air of Icicle Falls. But it was exciting here, too, she told herself. This was where the action was.

  Not that she’d seen any action yet. She’d dropped off a lot of portfolios, showed off a lot of cookbooks, but still hadn’t gotten any work yet, and that scared her. She’d found a place to stay through Airbnb and was currently renting a room from a nice older couple in Harlem while she figured out where she wanted to live and made the rounds of the various ad agencies and magazines.

  “Don’t worry,” Mr. Johnson, her temporary host, had told her. “It takes time to settle in.”

  Too much time.

  On a sunny Sunday afternoon she bought herself an iced coffee and took Muriel’s book to the Shakespeare Garden in Central Park, settling on a bench to read and get inspired. Today Muriel wasn’t all that inspiring. Anyway, it was hot. Too hot. She scowled up at Belvedere Castle.

  Her cell phone rang. “Hey there,” said a familiar male voice.

  Matt! “Hey there.” Hearing his voice did more for her than reading an entire chapter of Muriel’s book.

  “How are ya?”

  Should she be honest? No. “Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “I’m still adjusting.”

  “Want to meet for a drink?”

  “What?”

  “I’m here.”

  There was a lot of noise in the background, voices, traffic. Still, she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “Here? As in here?”

  “Yep. So, got time to meet me for a drink or something?”

  Did she ever! “Yes!”

  “I’m under the Coke billboard in Times Square.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  She raced to the s
ubway. Emerging from underground to see Times Square still left her blinking, trying to take it all in. The tall buildings, the flashing neon ads, the traffic, the noise, the people—it all swarmed her senses. She immediately spotted the gigantic interactive Coca-Cola billboard, then gaped in shock as she saw the names on two toasting Coke bottles, hers and Matt’s. And there he was, standing amid a swirl of tourists, smiling at her.

  She rushed up, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Yes, those lips were real. He was real, not some crazy heat-induced hallucination. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m following you. I quit my job in Seattle, listed the house, and boom, here I am. What the heck. New York is full of restaurants, right? Somebody’s got to need an awesome chef.”

  “You followed me?” He’d cared enough to come after her.

  He smiled at her. “You know how I said it was hard to say goodbye? I decided I’d rather say hello.”

  So would she!

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Grant had been concerned when his younger son announced his intention to pick up stakes and follow Griffin James to New York, but not surprised. Matt had found reasons to be with Griffin long after the painting was done. He definitely approved of Matt’s choice but he’d been concerned about the timing of it all. He was still concerned. The last thing he wanted to see was either of those two rushing into something and then ending up hurt.

  But he also was a little jealous of his son’s boldness. “What can I say, Dad? She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m crazy about her. I have to be with her.”

  And so off he’d gone.

  Grant was crazy about Cass Wilkes, too. But he wasn’t crazy. Or selfish. And that was what he’d be if he pursued her. She didn’t think their age difference was a big deal. She was too young to get it. Another sign that they shouldn’t be together. He knew he was right about this.

  But his attitude of rightness was challenged when he went to the home of Andy and Lois Beckenworth to put in a wheelchair ramp. Andy was a sinewy, fit-looking guy probably not too much older than Grant. He greeted Grant with a hearty handshake and equally hearty thanks for fitting them in.