After what seemed like an eternity, James rubbed his cheek across the crown of her head. “Will you let me drive you home now?”
Katie nodded.
“Why’d you run away?” he asked, as his hands cupped her shoulders as though he feared she was about to bolt and run again. “If you don’t want to go out with me, it’s okay. All you had to do was say so.”
She kept her gaze focused on the blacktop. “I’ve never wanted anything more, but James, I can’t…I don’t know how to dance and…”
“Shh.” He gently tapped his finger against her lips. “The truth is I wasn’t psyched to go, but if I did, the only person I wanted to go with was you.” He brought his arms around her and tucked his chin on top of her head. “I’m not a good dancer, either.”
“I’m sorry I ran.”
“I wanted to come after you. I should have.” He kissed her again, his mouth lingering over hers.
From that point forward they were nearly always together. James picked her up on his way to school so she wouldn’t have to ride the bus. He left her notes in her locker when she had a break, and she did the same for him. Silly notes scribbled in class in which she poured out her heart. She saved every one of his.
After school she went to his house so the two of them could do homework together. He was at every swim meet, cheering her on. His friends became her friends, and for the first time in her high school career, Katie felt as if she belonged. Always shy and withdrawn in the past, with him at her side she could laugh and joke without the fear of anyone making fun of her.
She met his parents and James told her she was the first girl he’d ever brought home to meet his family. His mom and dad let her know they were proud of James, as they had reason to be. James was smart. Really smart. He’d applied to Harvey Mudd College in California with an eye toward computer science and had been accepted. It was huge that James would have this opportunity. His grandparents were funding his expenses.
As prom rolled around that spring, she confided that she couldn’t afford an expensive prom dress. So he’d created a prom night for just the two of them. “It’ll be just us,” he said. “We’ll have our own prom.” And with his sister’s help he’d made all the arrangements.
James and his sister had decorated the back patio with Chinese lanterns. The card table was set in the center of the space with a white linen tablecloth. His parents were out for the evening and didn’t know that he’d brought out the fine china. He got roses as a centerpiece and placed them between two tall candles.
That evening was a romantic dream come true for Katie. James’s sister served as their waiter and they had Chinese take-out. Afterward they cleared away the table and two chairs, and as dusk settled he put on a playlist he’d made especially for that night. James’s mission was to make prom night memorable and enchanting.
As the music whirled around them, James held his arms open to Katie. It seemed as if he was opening up his heart to her, too.
She hesitated. “I’ve never danced much.” Her bungling attempts had left her feeling inept and embarrassed.
“Me neither,” he whispered. “We’ll learn together.”
While James held her, they did little more than shuffle their feet. Dancing was merely an excuse for him to hold her close. She pressed her head against his chest and thrilled to the sound of his heart beating. Katie closed her eyes, determined to keep the memory of this perfect night with her forever.
“This has been the most wonderful night of my life,” she told the Flemmingses after James drove her home.
Mrs. Flemmings hugged Katie. “All it takes is one look to see how James feels about you.”
“I feel the same way about him.” She didn’t say it outright, but Katie was in love. This feeling she had when she was with James wasn’t easy to describe or explain. When they weren’t together she felt as if she was only half alive. It was as if their souls had connected and were destined for each other.
Even now, ten years later, Katie felt her senior year with James had been the happiest time of her life. Nothing could compare to the love she’d felt from him.
James truly loved her. No one had ever cared as much about her as he did. As the time for graduation drew closer, he worried about her future. It was heavy on Katie’s mind as well. Washington state’s responsibility for foster kids ended once they were eighteen and had graduated from high school. Her future looked scary and bleak. It frightened Katie to think of having to support herself on what she made working in a fast-food restaurant.
Graduation night, James asked her to marry him. At first she assumed he meant in the future. Then it became clear he meant before the end of the summer—before he left for college.
“Oh James, we can’t. You’re going to Harvey Mudd.”
“We’ll get off-campus housing. My grandmother is paying my tuition and you can get a job. It’ll all work out, trust me.”
Katie so badly wanted to believe they could make this arrangement work. “Have you talked this over with your parents?”
His gaze skirted past her. “I’m over eighteen, Katie, and I want to marry you.”
The temptation was strong, like swimming along with a powerful riptide. “Let me think about it, but James, I want to be with you more than anything.” They might have both felt a bit young for marriage, but she could see he was trying to help her.
He held and kissed her then, and she was happier than she could ever remember being.
It didn’t take long for the bubble to burst. James’s mother sought her out shortly afterward to talk about their marriage plans.
“You’re both too young,” Mrs. Harper insisted. “We like you, Katie, and you’ve been wonderful for James, but we have serious doubts that marriage is a good idea for either of you.” She hesitated and bit into her lower lip. “When James told his grandparents that he wanted to marry you, they were deeply upset. My mother feels this is a terrible idea. Seeing that they’re willing to invest in James’s future, they felt they should have a say in this and are convinced it would be a mistake. Frankly, Katie, I agree with them. The two of you are barely eighteen years old. You’re the first girl James has ever dated. I’m afraid that in time he will regret this marriage and you will, too. Because of that, my parents have made a stand. If he goes ahead with this, they have decided to withdraw their offer to cover his expenses.”
Katie gasped. Deep down she knew Mrs. Harper was right, that they were probably too young, but it made her sick at heart.
“We know James cares deeply for you and we appreciate that you seem to care for him, too. That’s all well and good. Trust me, if the two of you are meant to be together then it’ll happen, but the timing is all wrong for now.”
Tears gathered in Katie’s eyes. “What…what should I do?”
His mother reached for her hand and held it gently in her own. “If you mention our conversation to James it will infuriate him. The only thing I can suggest is a clean break. Say whatever you think is best, but end it, Katie, for your sake and for his. If you truly love James, then you need to think of his future and what he needs, and frankly, what he doesn’t need is a wife.”
There wasn’t anything more to say.
His mother was right. Knowing how deeply James cared for her, Katie suspected he would do whatever was necessary to take care of her, even if it meant sacrificing his future. Katie loved him, too, loved him enough to do what she needed to do, what needed to be done.
They spent the summer together, and when it came time for him to head off to school she told him she’d met someone else. He didn’t believe her and she was forced to admit it was a lie. Next she made a little speech about how “marriage is serious business and while I love you, it isn’t a forever kind of love.” She told him she wanted to spread her wings, live a little, and she didn’t want to be tied down. She wanted her freedom. Still, James didn’t believe her, and he refused to take no for an answer. In time she’d come around.
She couldn’t af
ford a phone, and so after he left for California, James wrote her letters.
Every single day.
After the first few letters she found she couldn’t read them any longer. It hurt too much. It killed her to pile his letters up in a neat stack and ignore them, but that didn’t last long. She was desperate to know how he was doing, so she sat and read them all in one sitting, weeping through each one.
When she learned through the grapevine that he was headed home to talk to her, Katie went away and stayed with Coco until she knew he was back at school. If she saw him face-to-face it would have been impossible to pretend she didn’t love him any longer.
At Christmas he mailed her a gift, a heart-shaped necklace. Katie never acknowledged the gift, but she wore that heart around her neck even now. She’d never taken it off.
Still the letters came. Week after week. Month after month. Finally she could bear it no longer and she wrote him back. The hardest and most difficult letter of her life. Five words. Only five simple words.
Please, don’t write me again.
Then and only then did he stop. Katie moved into a state-sponsored group home, worked two jobs, and attended night classes. It took her nearly seven years to get her degree in social work, but she managed. Her only remaining connection with Cedar Cove was Coco.
Once Katie had graduated from college, she called Mrs. Flemmings and asked about James. Her foster mother learned that James had done well in school, graduated with honors, and had been hired by Microsoft. He wasn’t married.
She was twenty-five years old. It took a week for her to gather up her courage and reach out to him, hoping against hope that the timing that had been “all wrong” according to his mother might now be right. Not that it’d done her any good. He didn’t respond to her email, and when she tried again, she found that he’d blocked her emails.
She wrote him a letter, but it was returned with a note that said: Please, don’t write me again.
And so she hadn’t.
This reunion was her one last chance to connect with him. All she wanted was the opportunity to explain why she’d broken things off with him the way she had. She wasn’t seeking a romantic reunion or absolution, just understanding. However, if James wouldn’t listen three years ago, there was nothing to say he would now.
I tucked the invoice Mark had given me into my pocket and headed toward my office to write him a check. I didn’t bother to look at what he’d charged me; Mark had always been fair. As I walked through the kitchen the conversation with my mother played back in my mind. Now that I’d had time to absorb it, what she’d said rang true. It was going on two years since I’d lost Paul and I had yet to find my new normal.
Like Mom claimed, I’d been hiding behind the responsibilities of the inn. She was right about something else, too. I hadn’t kept in touch with my Seattle friends. Gloria, Gina, and Melody had reached out to me on several occasions, looking to include me in their get-togethers. Each time I’d had a convenient excuse to decline, and after a while they’d stopped inviting me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed with friends, taken girl time, enjoyed a Saturday movie, or gone out to dinner. I hadn’t attended a Seahawks football game since Paul’s death, either. I’d sort of dropped out of Facebook as well, checking it only intermittently.
The most exciting thing I’d done in the last six months was attend a book club discussion. No, wait, I’d been more adventuresome than that. I’d actually tackled a complicated knitting pattern; that had to count for something.
It pained me to admit it, but my mother was spot-on. I’d turned into a stodgy widow whose life had become insular and dull. I was afraid to live life at full speed. When I’d first met Paul I’d seen myself as fearless, willing to take on difficult tasks, travel on a whim; my laugh was easy and full. I wasn’t that person any longer. Grief had changed me and I wasn’t sure I liked the woman I’d become.
The phone rang just as I entered my office. It was my business line, so when I answered I put on my most professional voice.
“Rose Harbor Inn, this is Jo Marie Rose.”
“Lindsey Johnson here.”
I recognized the name but couldn’t place where I knew it from. “How can I help you, Lindsey?” I asked.
“You might not remember me. I called a few months back regarding SOS, Survivor Outreach Services. At the time you were busy and said there wasn’t anything you needed.”
I remembered the call and realized now why the name had sounded familiar. “I hadn’t gotten definitive word that my husband was dead…his body hadn’t been returned,” I explained. “I didn’t think I should join the group when there was a possibility Paul had survived the crash.”
“I see that he has since been identified and laid to rest.”
“Yes.” I couldn’t hold back the small catch in my voice. “He’s buried at Arlington Cemetery.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Jo Marie.”
“Thank you,” I whispered in return.
“I’m calling to let you know our support group is meeting next week and I wanted to personally invite you to give us a try. We’ve all lost a spouse here. We know what you’re going through. We’re here to help in any way we can.”
“Funny you should call. I was just thinking about how I still haven’t found my new normal,” I said.
“Well, that’s something you’re going to need to do on your own, but we can offer you some tools to ease you along the way.”
My first instinct was to decline. I had a hard enough time dealing with my own grief without taking on the pain of others who’d buried a husband, or in some cases a wife. I wasn’t ready for this. I yearned to escape the pain of the past instead of wading through it in waters so deep I’d need hip boots. But I had to do something to get myself out of the rut I was in.
“Okay,” I said, shocking myself. “I’ll come.” I reached for a pen and made a note of the date, time, and location.
After I hung up, I stood for several seconds, staring sightlessly at the wall. My heart beat in double time, which was completely illogical. It didn’t make sense that I should be afraid of a support-group meeting, and yet that was exactly what I felt. Scared. Instinctively, I realized joining the group would be my first baby step toward forging a path to a new life.
I’d been sidetracked by Lindsey’s call. I needed to pay Mark what I owed him for his work on the gazebo. I pulled the bill from my pocket and, sitting down, I reached for my checkbook. He hadn’t stuck around long enough to be paid, the way he normally did, but then I suspected he’d been eager to escape before another emotional scene might happen.
I opened the ledger and smoothed out the bill that had crumpled inside my pocket. As was our practice, I paid for all materials up front. In this case the lumber, nails, and paint. When he completed the project, I paid him for his labor costs. One thing about Mark I liked was that his work was excellent and his prices were fair.
I looked at the bill and my breath froze. He’d written PAID IN FULL across the top of the statement. But I hadn’t paid him in full. I owed him for his labor. If this was a farewell gift, then I didn’t want it. He’d earned his fee, and if I had anything to say about it, and I did, he was going to collect it. The man had tried my patience for the last time.
It was a bit of a challenge to calculate how much I owed him. I wrote out the check in a rush, so angry I could barely read my own handwriting. Tearing the check from the ledger, I stood and started for the door.
Sensing my mood, Rover followed me, his short legs marching with equal determination. I knew he’d be upset if I left him in the house, so I grabbed his leash.
Coco and Katie were coming down the stairs as I attached the leash to my faithful dog.
“We’re heading over to the school,” Coco said.
I’d given each of them a house key. “I’m going out for a bit myself. If I’m not here when you return, make yourself at home.”
“Will do,” Coco promised.
I
followed them out and locked the door after them. Rover waited impatiently at the top step. He didn’t often get a second walk in a day, and he was eager to show me how grateful he was to be out and about this afternoon.
It was almost as if Rover knew where I intended to go. He led the way straight to Mark’s house, nearly pulling me up the street in his eagerness. Seeing that it was a steep climb, I didn’t complain.
When I saw the real estate sign again on Mark’s front lawn I tensed. I hadn’t wanted to believe that I had used Mark as a crutch, as my mother suggested. Well, I was going to need to learn to do without him now. I didn’t like it, didn’t want this. However, my options were limited.
The door to Mark’s workshop was open and I could see him working inside. He seemed to be packing. A wave of regret washed over me and it took a couple moments for me to find my voice.
He must have sensed my presence because he straightened and turned to look my way before I could announce my arrival. For a long moment all we did was stare at each other. For just a fleeting second I witnessed longing in his eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly and was replaced with irritation.
He spoke first. “What can I do for you?” He wanted me gone, though, and he couldn’t have made it more plain.
“This won’t take long,” I said. Rover made himself at home, lying down on a rope rug just inside the workshop door. “You realize that when we first discussed the gazebo I mentioned I wanted benches.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to do that.”
“I thought not.”
“You can buy however many benches you want at a far better price than what it would cost for me to build them. I told you that initially.”
If he had, I didn’t remember it.
He shook his head. “I know what you’re doing and it isn’t going to work.”
I met his gaze head-on. I refused to back down or flinch.
“You’re making up excuses to keep me here, Jo Marie. It’s too late for that, so give it up.”
Silver Linings Page 8
