by Susan Lewis
“If you have a cold beer,” he responded, tossing a tiny ball to the girls to throw for Daisy.
“I’m sure there are some left from when my brother was here,” Justine replied. Going into the kitchen, she found a Coors and an already opened bottle of wine.
“I don’t know if there’s anything more guaranteed to make a person smile,” he remarked as they sat down on the rocking chairs to watch the proceedings, “than a couple of kids with a puppy.”
“She’s been longing for one ever since we arrived,” Justine told him. Even longer. “I should have done it sooner—but maybe we should look at it this way—if I had, we’d have missed out on Daisy. What was her name before, by the way?”
“I believe it was Kayley, so not too different.”
Justine raised her glass. “Here’s to Daisy. May she be as happy here as we are.”
As he tipped the beer, David eyed her quizzically.
“It’s home,” she assured him. “We love the house, the people, the lake…When did you first start coming here?”
Going with the abrupt change of focus, though she could tell he’d noted it, he said, “It was with my folks, back in ’87, ’88, when they bought the place in town, where I live now. I guess it was ’88, because it was the year I graduated from high school.”
Nineteen eighty-eight, the year she and Matt met. “Where did you go to school?” she asked, feeling faintly light-headed at the bizarreness—wrongness—of the fate that had washed her up here with another man all these years later.
“Indianapolis,” he replied.
“And after graduating, you went where?”
“To college in North Carolina, where I got my master’s in political science and modern philosophy. After that, I landed an internship with the Seattle Times—my grandfather knew someone—and from there I had a series of jobs before I landed a position at the Pentagon press office.”
Justine blinked. “I had no idea,” she admitted. “You actually worked at the Pentagon?”
“It wasn’t such a big deal,” he said modestly, “but it was kind of interesting for a while.”
“Were you there for 9/11?”
He shook his head. “Before my time. I only held the job for a couple of years before my wife got sick, and frankly, she needed me more than they did, so that was what I did when we knew it was terminal. I took care of her until—well, until she didn’t need me anymore.”
Justine said softly, “I’m so sorry. It must have been a terrible time for you.”
“It wasn’t the best,” he conceded, “but I’m a firm believer that whatever life throws at us, we learn to handle it and find a way to move on. Culver’s been great for helping me to do that. No real pressures, lots of friendly faces, no complications unless you go looking for them…My folks have been pretty amazing too, letting me use the house, the car, never getting on my case about what I might do next.”
Surprised and worried for Sallie Jo, Justine said, “Does that mean you’re thinking of moving on at some point?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say. There’s plenty to keep me here, but maybe just as much to tempt me away.”
“Such as a more demanding job?”
“Sure, though I kind of enjoy the Citizen. It’s been a good friend to me these past couple of years.”
Searching out the sudden yelps of delight, Justine laughed to see the puppy rolling over and over, like a star performer. “It’s hard to imagine a happier little dog,” she remarked, thankful for the tremendous boost it was already clearly bringing to Lula.
“Some relationships are made in heaven,” he said with a smile, “and Lula’s with Daisy appears to be one of them.”
“Hazel’s being so sweet with them,” Justine observed, as Hazel passed the ball for Lula to throw. “She’s a very special little girl.”
“She certainly is,” he agreed.
They watched the puppy bounce after the ball, looking for all the world like a baby rabbit. The thought instantly sparked an alarm in Justine. “Lula,” she called out, “bring Daisy over here a minute.”
Quickly gathering up her new pet, Lula came rushing over, followed by Hazel. “Do you want to hold her?” she offered. “She’s really soft and she loves being stroked.”
Taking her, Justine snuggled the little bundle against her cheek and promptly received a vigorous licking. “We have to make sure Daisy doesn’t go into the woods after dark,” she told Lula.
Lula’s and Hazel’s eyes grew big with concern.
“Remember, Billy Jakes is around catching rabbits at night,” Justine explained, “and we don’t want him mistaking Daisy for one, do we?”
Lula and Hazel shook their heads. “She’s not a rabbit,” Lula said gravely, “but he might not be able to tell the difference in the dark.”
“Precisely,” Justine confirmed.
“What does he do with the rabbits?” Hazel asked.
“I’m not sure,” Justine replied.
“He keeps them in the barn next to his trailer,” David told her, “and when the time is right he kills them and eats them, or sells them to other people for them to eat.”
Lula looked horrified. “People don’t eat rabbits,” she objected.
“Some do,” Justine told her.
“But that’s horrible.” She looked at Hazel and, making all sorts of yuk and gagging noises, they took Daisy to the other side of the garden, well away from the woods.
“Maybe I’ll ask the landlords if I can put up a fence,” Justine said, reaching for her mobile as it pinged with a text. “Sallie Jo’s on her way,” she told David. “I’m hoping she might stay for dinner. You’re welcome to join—”
“No no, I really should be going,” he interrupted. “The Citizen goes to press tomorrow, so lots to do.”
Justine got up to walk him to his car. “It was really good of you to bring the puppy,” she told him. “You can see what an effect she’s already having.”
His kind eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched the boisterous play. “I wonder who’ll wear whom out first?”
Smiling, Justine put out a hand to shake, and felt herself color as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“Say hi to Sallie Jo for me,” he said, getting into the car. “And anything you need, you know where I am.”
It turned out Sallie Jo was too short of time to stay for dinner that night, though she made a huge fuss of the puppy and reminded Justine to keep the following Tuesday evening free for her birthday celebration.
“I’ll reserve a table at the Corndance Café,” she promised, “there’ll be five or six of us, so it should be fun. Or as fun as being forty-one can be. Oh, and my neighbor, Mandy Whitts, is happy to sit for the girls. I guess it’s OK with you for Lula to have a sleepover with us?”
Though Justine really didn’t want Lula to stay away for the night, she had no good reason to object, especially when Hazel had spent so many nights with them, so she simply thanked Sallie Jo for thinking of everything and including her in the invite.
“I’m sorry we won’t be able to get together before that,” Sallie Jo said distractedly, checking her watch as they waited for Hazel to tear herself from the puppy and get into the car. “It’s parents’ weekend at the Academies, so it’ll be crazy busy at the café. Let’s hope the weather stays good and all my staff decide to turn up. Hazel, honey, we have to go.”
Over the following weekend Justine deliberately kept a low profile, not venturing into town at all, spending most of the time finding new walks for Daisy. Though there weren’t many British students at the Academies, a handful at most, she didn’t want to risk running into any of their parents in case she should be recognized.
Sallie Jo rang on Tuesday afternoon to confirm that her birthday dinner was still on, and so a little before six Justine dropped Lula and Daisy with Hazel, and managed not to utter a word about how anxious and bereft she was going to feel without her daughter and the dog. It was only one night, she kept telling herse
lf, they would be fine, and so would she.
Now, here she and Sallie Jo were at the Corndance Café, enjoying cocktails while they waited for the others to arrive.
“I’m sure glad that weekend’s over.” Sallie Jo sighed after a generous sip of her cosmo. “Everything was great up till Sunday, when the cooks suddenly changed how they run orders. One was putting out in twenty minutes and the other in forty. It was chaos and soooo embarrassing. Why they change things on the busiest of weekends I’ll never understand. Anyhow, we got through it. So how about you guys, what have you been up to?”
Justine smiled. “Everything’s about the puppy at the moment,” she replied, filling with affection for the little bundle of fluff that never ceased to delight.
Playfully rolling her eyes, Sallie Jo said, “I’m not surprised; it’s got to be the cutest thing I ever saw. Hazel’s crazy about it, and now she’s bugging David to find one for her too.”
“Do you want to get a dog?” Justine asked, picking up her drink.
Sallie Jo rocked a hand from side to side. “If we could find one like Daisy, I guess I’d be fine with it. We’ll see.” She sipped her cocktail again and glanced around the cozy room with its Halloween decorations, linen-covered tabletops, and oak-beamed ceiling. There were only a handful of people there, most drinking cocktails, though one table had just been delivered an enormous helping of firecracker shrimp, and some sort of creamy dip with pizza bread.
With time ticking on, Justine was starting to wonder if the others were actually coming. As though reading her thoughts, Sallie Jo looked vaguely awkward as she said, “I arranged for us to be here earlier so we could talk.”
Though she couldn’t imagine what it would be about, Justine felt herself tense with unease.
“It’s kind of…” Sallie Jo shrugged. “Well, I guess I want you to know that if you and David…I mean, I think he’s attracted to you, and if you feel the same way…”
Justine was dumbfounded.
“I want you to know that I’m not someone—”
“Please, you’ve got it wrong,” Justine broke in quickly. “There’s nothing between me and David, and I promise you there never will be.”
Though it was clear that Sallie Jo wanted to believe her, it was equally clear that she wasn’t sure if she should. “You say that now…”
“I mean it,” Justine put in forcefully. “I’m truly not looking for a relationship, but even if I were, it really wouldn’t be with him.”
“Because of me?”
“No, because of me. But yes, you too. I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he has them for you.”
Sallie Jo’s eyes went down. “Even if you’re right,” she said quietly, “I don’t want to fall for him, because I’m sure he’s going to leave sooner or later…He’ll take a position in New York, or back in Washington. I know he’s had offers already.”
“And he’s turned them down?”
“So far, I guess.”
Not sure if giving advice was the right way to go with this, Justine said cautiously, “Maybe if you opened up a little more with him, let him know that you’re interested and he stands a chance?”
Sallie Jo’s smile was wry. “That’s what everyone thinks,” she confided, “but he’s not stupid. He’s got to know I have feelings for him.”
“Why would he be sure of you if you’re not sure of him?”
Sallie Jo had no answer for that.
“If you ask me,” Justine pressed on, “you’ve both been through a lot, with him losing his wife and your divorce, and now you’re both afraid of being hurt again. That’s what’s holding you back.”
Sallie Jo’s laugh was hollow, yet hopeful. “Do you think so?” she said.
“I really do, and so would you if you were able to see things from the outside. The trouble is we never can when it comes to sorting out our own lives.”
Apparently liking the answer, Sallie Jo suddenly brightened. “Hey, we don’t want to be talking about this anymore,” she declared, “we want to be talking about you…I’ve had an idea about a job that might be of interest to you.”
Justine felt herself starting to tense.
“I could really do with some help…”
Justine tried desperately to think up a way to head her off, certain she was going to ask her to help out at the café. Yet what excuse could she give when she owed Sallie Jo so much?
“So what do you say?” Sallie Jo prompted eagerly.
Realizing she’d missed the details, Justine said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’d be right for the café. I—”
“Hell no, you don’t want to work there,” Sallie Jo laughed. “I’m asking if you’d consider going to view properties for me. You know, take down the particulars, measure, photograph, write the blurb? If it appeals, you might even want to think about getting your Realtor’s license.”
Justine felt herself flounder. “Uh, it’s not something I’ve ever…I mean, it’s…” At last she started to smile. “It’s a great idea,” she declared, understanding it was what Sallie Jo wanted to hear, and actually it wasn’t such a bad one, now that she came to think of it. “I’m not sure about the license,” she ran on, “but I’d love to help out with the listing side of things.”
“That’s terrific.” Sallie Jo clinked her glass to Justine’s. “I’ve kind of got this fantasy that we might even go into partnership together, but hey, that’s me, I always get carried away.”
Remembering how often she and Cheryl used to get carried away, and how many of their dreams had come true, Justine gamely said, “Don’t let’s rule it out. I’m sure I’ll love the idea once I’ve had time to get my head round it.” And once I’ve dealt with how much like a betrayal it might feel.
Looking up as Naomi came in with Christina, a teacher at the high school who lived over in Knox, Sallie Jo waved and quickly said to Justine, “There’s something else I need to tell you, but I won’t go into it in front of the others. It’s just I thought you’d like to know that I asked my folks if they remembered your grandma. My mother said she did, but she didn’t want to repeat the rumors she’d heard, because she had no idea what was true and what wasn’t.”
Justine’s eyes widened.
“I’ll get more out of her when she’s here,” Sallie Jo assured her, rising to her feet, “unless we’ve managed to find out for ourselves by then.”
Nine years earlier—Chippingly Vale, UK
The farmhouse was overflowing with everything that made up Christmas. Trees were glittering merrily in the kitchen, hall, sitting room, and playroom, each laden with decorations the children (mostly ten-year-old Abby) had either made or helped choose during shopping expeditions locally and in town. Colored lights chased and flashed and twinkled all day and night, with trains hooting around the base of the playroom tree, and carols warbling from music boxes and dancing reindeer beneath the others. Abby and her friends had collected all sorts of greenery and berries from the orchard and wilderness beyond to make wreaths for the doors, while Ben, Chantal, Nelly, and Neil had kept warm in the kitchen roasting chestnuts and making lists to send up the chimney to Santa. Even Matt’s study hadn’t escaped the festive spirit, with silver snowflakes sprayed on the windows, as they were throughout the rest of the house, two modest red felt stockings hanging from his corner mantelpiece with “Mum” and “Dad” embroidered on the fluffy tops, and his very own Advent calendar offering him a chocolate a day from each little window. Abby and Ben’s large and very hopeful stockings (both made by Abby) were dangling each side of the fireplace in the sitting room, where baskets of kindling and pinecones, sprayed with fake snow, were cluttering up the hearth, and a garland of gold-painted leaves, bright red poinsettia, and rich green pine boughs was draped across the shelf.
With the delicious smell of brandy-laced puddings filling the kitchen, and the radio jollying things along with “Jingle Bell Rock,” Justine left Win, her trusty housekeeper, to carry on in her invaluably capable way while sh
e took off down to the deli to help with the end-of-day rush. As she ran through the drizzly rain into the heart of the vale she felt cheered by the lights burning in everyone’s windows, the glowing reindeer grazing in gardens, and fake icicles dangling from rooftops. Of course the children couldn’t wait for it to snow so they could build snowmen, toboggan at top speed down the hillside, and turn the park and brook into an ice rink, but none was forecast for the next few days, so there was unlikely to be any for Christmas itself.
What was due to happen on the big day was the usual midday champagne and canapés at the farmhouse for anyone who cared to drop in—at least sixty or more usually did—followed by the traditional feast of a meal for around twenty that Justine and Cheryl always prepared together, using the kitchen barn. Both their families would be there, including grandparents—even her mother was threatening to grace them with her presence this year. Rob and Maggie would come with Francine, naturally, and as usual a number of old folk from around the village would join in rather than be left on their own.
When added to the dozen or so parties they’d already catered this month, it was a heck of a lot of work, and by the end of it she and Cheryl would be more than ready for their regular new year skiing trip to Meribel. Vikki and Daniela, their senior managers, were perfectly capable of taking care of the events at that time, while the deli would close its doors from Christmas Eve until January 10.
Digging around for her phone as it rang, she waved to Simon as he rode into the vale on his motorbike, and clicked on the line to speak to Matt.
“Where are you?” they both asked at the same time.
“On my way to the deli,” she told him. “The kids should be there by now.”
“Did they go to Longleat?” he asked.
“Ben did, but Abby decided to go shopping with Gina instead. How are things your end?”
