“Whoa, hold on. Let me explain before you whip my ass.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “This might actually work.”
“Go on. I’m listening.” I tap my foot against the porch step.
“It wouldn’t take much to winter-proof the cabin. I can even buy the supplies and do it myself.” He sounds reasonable, but I have so many lingering doubts. “I realize we’re not going to live here for the rest of our lives or anything. It’s just to get us started.”
“And what are we going to do when we get a foot of snow and we can’t get down the dirt road?” I butt in, interrupting him.
“I can buy a used truck with four-wheel drive. And get a plow attachment before the winter sets in.” He really did think this through.
“Okay, and where are you going to get all of this money if the pub doesn’t sell?” Let’s see him talk his way out of that.
“Because it’s already sold.”
“To who?” Holy shit, this is really happening.
“To Maria.” He’s grinning from ear to ear.
Is everybody out to get me in some grand conspiracy or something? This is unbelievable. “Really?” I spit out.
“Yeah, she called my realtor this morning and made an offer. Apparently, she told him that her priorities have changed after 9/11 and she wanted to do something different with her life away from the consulting field. Turns out her grandfather used to own a bar up in Boston, and she was looking to get back to her roots. So she’s taking the early retirement option her company is offering her and investing in the bar.” I’ve never seen him this happy before. It’s too good to be true.
“There’s still one major hiccup, you know.” I climb the rest of the steps and stand before him. “We can’t live forever on what you get from selling the pub.”
“True, but if we live simply for a while, maybe we both can go back to school. There’s a state university not even thirty minutes away.” He’s so excited, like the world is opening up before him. “And I can get a bartending job in one of the resorts up here to tide us over. There are a lot of tourists during the summer and skiers in the winter. We’ll be out of the city and closer to your parents, too.”
He’s brimming with hope and the endless possibilities of what a fresh start can do for us. It sounds so tempting, like it’s a real possibility. But he’s assuming too much.
“What if I don’t want any of this?” I feel like I’m sticking a knife through his heart.
His face falls, and I know I’ve wounded him deeply. “You don’t have to decide tonight. Take your time and think it over.” I’ve devastated him, but he’s trying to remain stoic. “You were going to stay here for the next few weeks anyway. We can just chill out and give it a test run if you’d like.”
His willingness to compromise speaks volumes. It’s exactly what I needed to hear. But I’m not going to give in just yet. Let’s see how we make it through this trial period, seeing that we don’t kill each other in the process.
Chapter Forty-Five
Maria’s offer is in escrow until the paperwork for transferring the pub’s liquor license goes through, but that doesn’t stop Connor from moving full speed ahead.
The pub’s van is sitting out front. So the first thing we do is hit several car dealerships looking for the best trade-in offer. Connor ends up selecting a used Dodge Ram pickup. Considered a viable business owner and with his credit newly restored, he has no problem securing a five-year auto loan.
Within hours, we hit the road in his new truck. This time our destination is the state university. We locate the admissions office only to discover that we’re in for quite a wait. Missing the cut-off, the next registration deadline is not for another year. While it derails his academic ambitions for the time being, the unforeseen setback doesn’t dampen his spirit.
After scanning the classified want ads, our next stop is The Evergreen Inn. They’re seeking an experienced bartender for their golf club, and while it’s only a seasonal position, it’s a step in the right direction.
As I sit in the passenger seat and wait for him to complete his job interview, my mind wanders. Connor is setting himself up to win. His determination is creating a powerful momentum, and I feel like I’m getting left behind. I’m a little sick inside to be honest.
I only want what’s best for him, but it seems like we’re moving in two different directions. He’s charted his course, and I’m stuck in no man’s land. It could be he’s forcing my hand. Rushing things along, so I’m coerced into making a decision sooner rather than later. But I don’t want to end up regretting my choice.
For now, I’m just along for the ride. Let the chips fall where they may. I refuse to plunge headlong into what might turn out to be a big mistake. If my time at NYU taught me anything, it taught me that. It was a painful lesson, and I don’t plan on repeating it any time soon. Connor can jump ahead as far as he’d like, but it doesn’t mean I have to follow him blindly. I’m going into this with my eyes open wide or not at all.
It’s boiling in the truck, despite the windows being down. I open the door and step out, examining the grounds. I set a leisurely pace toward the main building as the sun beats down on me. Skirting the circular driveway, I jog up the steps and into the lobby just as Connor is coming out.
He picks me up and spins me around, elated. “I got the job,” he exclaims before placing me back on my feet. “And guess what? They want me to start immediately. The guy they had before just up and quit, and they’re really in a bind. If I give you the keys to the truck, do you think you can find your way back?”
I want to share in his excitement, but instead I feel shut out. He’s firmly establishing himself in his new life, and I don’t want to bring him down. That’s the last thing I want to do. This is the best I’ve ever seen him. It’s amazing what the change of environment has done for him already. I won’t dampen his newfound optimism. I’ll play along.
“Yeah, I think I can.” Sliding the keys into my pocket, I flash him my brightest smile. “So what time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Oh man, I don’t even know. Is it all right if I call you later?” Yep, I’m slowly falling off his priority list.
“Sure, that’s fine.” I was planning on stopping at Wal-Mart to purchase a charcoal grill. I thought we’d celebrate over some rib-eye steaks and steamed clams. Looks like that’s not going to happen now. I’ll be eating peanut butter and jelly by myself.
“I’ll see you later,” he says, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead before heading back the way he came.
“Good luck,” I call to his retreating back, but he doesn’t hear me.
I have nowhere I need to be and nothing to do. Strolling into the lobby, I plop into a comfy leather chair near the grand piano. Once again, my life is in a state of flux, upended beyond recognition. How did I get here, yet again? Just when I thought I’d uncovered some stability, the mirage of security is snatched away. It’s not Connor’s fault. I know that. He needs something positive to cling to. If he continues on this path, it’ll be good for his recovery. It’s impossible to completely move on after what happened, but at least the change will keep 9/11 from the forefront of his mind. He’s found some sense of peace, and that’s all I ever wanted for him.
I only wish I could find it for myself. It would be so easy to fall into this lifestyle with him, like laying my head on a fluffy white pillow. Easy. Comfortable. Natural. But something’s holding me back. Why can’t I make a commitment to someone who’s so willing to commit himself to me? I’m so screwed up inside.
The suction of the leather chair on my sweaty thighs makes a loud noise as I get up to leave. An elderly woman across the room gives me a disgruntled look. Jeez, I can’t do anything right today.
I guess I’m trying to understand how Connor is able to make such a radical transformation. He’s a lifelong New Yorker used to the noise and grit of the city. It has to be somewhat of an awkward transition adjusting to a one-room cabin in the middle of nowhe
re. Is Manhattan forever tarnished for him by Danny’s death? Can he really give up everything that’s familiar to him without looking back?
Getting behind the wheel, I crank up the air conditioner. The cold blast settles me, and I think back to how I felt about returning to New York with Connor. If not for him, I probably never would’ve gone back. After 9/11, it haunted me. I didn’t feel comfortable there. I ran away. But Connor made the effort to help me work past my trepidation. Little did I realize, he was feeling the same way the whole time. The city was forever scarred for him, too.
And that’s when it finally clicks. Maybe we don’t need New York. Maybe we just need each other.
Chapter Forty-Six
Connor pries another piece of siding off the cabin. He has a tool belt slung around his waist and a Yankees baseball cap on his head. The truck’s radio is blasting. Taking advantage of a rare day off, he’s working like a mad man to get the cabin ready for the winter.
I can’t believe we’re at the end of August already. My self-imposed deadline is looming. Will I stay or will I go? I can tell Connor’s nervously awaiting my decision, but he hasn’t said a word about it. I think he’s trying to ignore the inevitable, and he thinks by not pressuring me he can swing the vote in his favor.
Donning a pair of work gloves, I start to unravel the bolt of pink insulation that Connor’s going to affix to the frame of the cabin. The scratchy material is murder on the skin, so I’m glad I have something to protect my hands. Wiping my brow, I examine all the work we’ve done to the place so far. The windows are gleaming. The roof is freshly tiled. A new screen door hangs on its hinges. It’s shaping up to be quite a cozy little home.
My eyes swing over to Connor, and I drink him in. He looks so unbelievably hot. He’s wearing a wife-beater, and the muscles in his arms gleam from the physical labor he’s performing in this heat. I imagine ripping off his shirt and running my hands down his chest.
“Michelle, you wanna bring that over here?” He catches me staring at him, and despite how close we’ve become, I still blush. Not trusting my voice, I nod, dragging the insulation across the grass.
“Can you hold the opposite end for me?” he asks as he slices off a section with his utility knife. Wielding a staple gun, he starts fastening it to the wall of the cabin. Raising my arms above my head, I hold it in place as Connor moves around me. He’s directly behind me and his hands stretch above mine. Flinging the staple gun to the ground, he grabs my waist, pressing me against him while nibbling my ear.
It feels so good. Leaning back into him, I twist in his arms so that we are facing each other. His mouth devours mine as he slides his fingers through the belt loops of my cutoffs, lifting me up. Taking the hint, I wrap my legs around him as his hands slide over my back pockets. We haven’t come up for air, and my head is spinning. I just can’t get enough of him.
Wanting him to take off his shirt, I fumble with the material. Realizing I’m still wearing the clumsy work gloves, I laugh against his mouth. Finally separating, he gives me a quizzical look. I bring my hands in front of his face, and he begins to laugh too. Striding to the porch, he deposits me in the rocking chair before entering the cabin. I hear the clink of ice, and he returns with two glasses of lemonade. Handing one to me, he props himself against the railing, taking a sip.
“We should be able to finish this today. It’s not even noon yet.” But he casts an anxious glance at the overcast sky. “We might be in for one hell of a thunderstorm though.” Slugging back the rest of his lemonade, he bounds off the porch signaling for me to follow.
I have to smile at his sense of urgency, but I don’t think he’s going to beat the storm. We’ll be lucky if we get one side of the cabin done before Mother Nature descends. Shaking my head, I sprint after him.
We manage to secure two more strips before the wind starts to pick up. The chime on the porch is tinkling wildly in the breeze. Connor’s laundered uniforms are flapping on the clothesline. I better retrieve them before they get carried away. Running across the yard, I remove the clothespins, throwing his shirts and pants over my shoulder. Casting a quick look back, Connor is hurriedly nailing the siding back into place.
A fat raindrop hits me in the middle of the forehead. There’s no time to waste as I sprint up the steps and into the cabin. Tossing the laundry onto the couch, I start closing the windows. Connor follows soon after depositing his tools by the door before shutting it against the downpour.
Peering at my reflection in the window, I try taming my windswept hair. With no air circulating, it feels like it is a thousand degrees in here. A sharp crash of thunder makes me jump. Connor chuckles while rummaging through the cabinet drawer for a match. Lighting a candle, he sets it in the middle of the kitchen table before taking a seat. He eyes me expectantly, waiting for me to join him. We both know the time has come.
Lowering myself into the chair opposite him, I cross my hands in front of me. The rain is pattering loudly against the roof, but thanks to Connor’s efforts not a drop gets through. Clearing my throat, I raise my voice over the noise of the storm. “I guess this is a good time to talk.”
If he’s apprehensive, he’s hiding it well. The candlelight flickers in front of him, softly illuminating his face. He doesn’t say a word, just waits for me to continue, but his eyes never leave mine.
Bolstering my courage, I charge ahead. “I didn’t know how this was gonna work out, you and me, living here, in such close quarters.” Nervously, I twiddle my thumbs. “I honestly thought we’d kill each other, especially me being here in a state of limbo with nothing to do. I was sure I’d go insane.”
He nods. He knows me well enough to agree that what I’m saying is true.
“But it didn’t turn out like I expected. I was kept busy fixing up the cabin, taking long walks, reading books from the library, driving you back and forth to work. My days were filled, and my nights, well…” I don’t have to verbalize how great the chemistry between us has been.
“The university is back in session. So yesterday I stopped by to walk around campus to get a feel for what it’s like with students and professors milling about. And you know what? It was great.” He leans forward eager to hear more. “I even talked to the head of admissions and she said that technically I could be considered a transfer student since I did attend half a semester at NYU before dropping out. And what’s great about that is, I wouldn’t have to wait until next fall if I get accepted. I could start in January when the spring term gets underway. I filled out the paperwork she gave me, and I’m going to return it after Labor Day so she can get the process started.”
He pushes away from the table and kneels at my feet. Turning to face him, he clasps my hands in his. “Does that mean…?” He’s trembling ever so slightly.
“Yes.” Clasping him around the neck, I press my forehead against his. “It means yes.”
He caresses the side of my face. Gently, he finds my lips, bestowing upon them a feather-light kiss. When he sits back on his heels, I’m overcome by the tears brimming in his eyes that my own begin to fill. “I never thought I’d be happy again,” he manages to get out as he takes a deep breath. “But I am.”
Running my fingers across his cheek, I smile down at him, my heart ready to burst. “Me too, baby. Me too.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Days later, we receive a call from the realtor that the sale went through. Maria is now the official owner of Donnelly’s Pub. All Connor needs to do is return to the city to sign some of the final paperwork, and it’s a done deal. The pub is no longer his.
After hanging up and relaying the news to me, he steps outside and stares across the lake. Walking down to the dock, he pushes Miguel’s old canoe into the water and gets in. After watching his progress in the boat for the better part of an hour, I pick up the phone.
“Mrs. Donnelly, it’s Michelle.”
“Did it happen?”
“Yeah, it did.”
She pauses and I give her a moment. Judg
ing by Connor’s reaction, I know it’s a bitter pill for his family to swallow.
“How’s Mr. Donnelly holding up?” He’s spoken to his son since finding out about the fate of his beloved pub, but there’s still an overhanging tension between them.
“No doubt this news is going to be a blow.” She sounds defeated. “But he’s learning how to work through it at his own pace.”
“That’s all anyone can ask,” I reply, infusing my tone with as much warmth as I can.
“I guess Maria wants the place as is, huh?”
“Yeah, what a relief. She doesn’t want us to remove a thing.”
“That’ll be a comfort to my husband.” I never expected her to get so emotional, but I can hear her sniffling on the other end. “So when are you and Connor coming in?”
“We’re driving out tomorrow morning. Connor’s going to stop first at the realtor’s office in Midtown, and then we’ll head over to Brooklyn.”
“I’m glad you’ll be here for the first anniversary.”
I choke up a bit. “It’s where we should be, you know?”
“I know.” She swallows audibly before striving for a more jubilant tone. “We’ll have lunch ready when you get here.”
“Am I finally going to get a chance to taste your lasagna?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Her words bring a smile to my face.
“See you around one-thirty then.”
“Okay, have a safe trip.”
Connor is slowly paddling toward shore. I watch him drag the oars through the water, closing the distance between us. I hope with all my heart that he’s strong enough to endure these next few days. I hope I am too.
***
We’re out of the realtor’s office in no time. I can see how the sale proceeded so quickly thanks to their efficiency and organization. They made everything as streamlined as possible for Connor. It was painful enough for him without adding any tedious headaches on the business end. Things couldn’t have gone more smoothly.
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