On Love's Gentle Shore

by Liz Johnson

  There was no time to consider why her body insisted on reacting like they’d never touched before, as they were immediately confronted by the short woman standing at a worktable that took up most of the room.

  “What do you need?” Her words were curt and sour, and Natalie had to wonder, if she treated all of her customers this way, how had she ever managed to keep a business going for so many years? Perhaps it had more to do with a dearth of options than excellent customer service.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  Yep, definitely that lack of options thing.

  As much as she wanted to give Lois what she deserved, a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she was back in the spotlight and back in front of a gossip ring that must have loved having her family down the street. So she swallowed whatever retort was begging for release and cleared her throat. But before she could speak, Justin cut her off.

  “Mrs. Bernard, of course we have an appointment. For the Jacobs-O’Ryan wedding. It’s bound to be the biggest event of the summer.”

  The baggy skin around Lois’s eyes drooped a little less, her hunched shoulders perking up just a bit. “The biggest event?” she mumbled.

  “Absolutely. Nearly a hundred and fifty out-of-town guests, who are just dying to see the beauty of the island.” He motioned to the arrangement on her table, its rich purples and blues a testament to the island’s extravagant flora. Stems of lavender complemented bulbs of ivory tucked into rich greenery as deep as the pine trees that towered over the coast like sentinels. “Your flowers could be the thing that makes all of those guests fall in love with the island.”

  Lois gave a little pat to her white curls and curved her painted lips. With a narrowed gaze, she stared at Justin, purposefully ignoring Natalie. “You’re Kathleen’s boy, aren’t you?” She asked it like she hadn’t seen him nearly every day of his life and been in the ladies’ auxiliary with Mama Kane for a hundred years, and it made Natalie want to roll her eyes at whatever game Lois was playing.

  If Justin had the same impulse, he didn’t act on it. When he spoke, there wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She pursed those wrinkled lips, her lipstick seeping into the cracks as she pinched her stem trimmer with knobby fingers. The little tool clicked together, echoing without a blossom to snip.

  “I suppose that girl at the inn called me about someone stopping by.”

  That was certainly Marie. Natalie was sure Lois knew it.

  They didn’t have to put up with this. She’d go pick some wildflowers for the wedding if this kept up.

  But just when she was about to tell Lois that, Justin put his hand on her back. It was still and infinitely calming, and she heaved a sigh, releasing every choice word she had for Lois.

  This wasn’t exactly the scowling Justin Natalie had expected, but she was grateful for him in any form at the moment.

  “Do you have some pictures or something we could look at?”

  Through a narrowed gaze, Lois eyed them like she worried they couldn’t be trusted with her samples. Finally she nodded and turned to pick up an enormous photo album before dumping it on the worktable across from the half-filled vase at her elbow. “You can look through that. I can do any of those.”

  She went back to work without another word, leaving Natalie and Justin to shrug at each other and begin flipping through the thick pages.

  Natalie wasn’t sure if she’d expected pictures cut out from bridal magazines or printed off the internet, but with each page her jaw dropped.

  Every corner of every sheet was filled with stunning images of bright bouquets and boutonnieres. First Church was recognizable but dressed in its finest ferns and white lilies. The gazebo along the boardwalk had been adorned in floral garlands twisting around each pole, and a bride and groom kissed unashamedly, framed by Lois’s stunning work.

  For a split second Natalie thought someone else must have crafted such lovely and creative arrangements.

  And then there was Lois, unmistakable in a floral tea-length skirt and bright pink blouse, with an arm around a bride who looked an awful lot like little Laura Masser.

  She did a triple take before jerking back. “Is that Laura Masser?” she whispered.

  Justin tugged on the end of his ponytail and nodded.

  “But she’s eight.”

  “More like twenty-two. And it’s Hughes now.”

  She couldn’t explain why that felt like such a punch in the gut. She’d barely known the little girl who lived three houses down. Natalie was almost done with school by the time Laura started, and they’d never had much reason to nod at each other in the street. But … married? It was like this town insisted on reminding her what she’d have had to look forward to if she’d stayed.

  A wedding at twenty. To a man like her father. Only to end up like her mother.

  She cringed at the very idea, her stomach suddenly feeling as steady as a buoy in a hurricane.

  “Laura picked the traditional red roses.” Lois didn’t bother to look up at them.

  Right. Focus on the flowers. For her wedding. To a man completely unlike her father. Who would take her back to a place far away from here.

  “I like the purple ones.”

  “Orchids.” Again, Lois couldn’t be bothered to look up from her steady snip-snipping. But she was right. “Fragile but pretty. Bouquet and centerpieces?”

  “And something for the end of the pews in the church.”

  This caught Lois’s eyebrows like a fishhook, which seemed to ask, They’re letting you have the wedding at the church? But she said only, “Where’s the reception?”

  “The old barn at Kane Dairy.”

  Knowing eyes traveled to Justin and assessed him. “Rustic?”

  “With soft accents like the flowers.”

  “I’ll show you what I’m going to do in a couple weeks. Come back on the Thursday after next.” Lois pointed to the door, effectively dismissing them before tucking long stems into her vase.

  “Um …” Natalie took an awkward step toward the door.

  “We’ll see you then,” Justin said, escorting her out the door and into the fresh air, which was sweeter than land to a drowning man. Compared to the dimness indoors, the sun burned her eyes, and she hobbled along as she rubbed her face to dispel the spots that had been seared into her corneas.

  When they reached the end of the drive, Justin chuckled. “She’s something else.”

  Natalie nodded. “That’s an understatement. Why is she so … hostile?” Despite the laugh that carried her words, another question leapt to Natalie’s mind. Why am I so hostile?

  That wasn’t fair. She had a right to be angry in this town. Hadn’t she suffered here? No one knew how bad it had gotten. Not even Justin.

  She’d never told him about the rumors whispered in the girls’ locker room just loud enough for her to hear. Or the guys who had thought she’d inherited her dad’s wayward morals.

  If she’d ever told Justin about those, he’d have ended up kicked out of school. There weren’t enough detention slips for him to defend her honor, which he’d have insisted on doing.

  And certainly she’d never told him what Stella Burke had said when she’d so eloquently invited Natalie to leave town.

  She’d given herself permission to carry that bitterness around. She’d told her therapist that she’d dealt with it. And in Nashville, maybe she had. On PE Island, not so much.

  But, God help her, she did not want to end up like Lois Bernard.

  13

  The only bad thing about Caden’s breakfasts was that Natalie could barely move after indulging. This particular morning, she hadn’t been able to stop halfway through her two fluffy blueberry pancakes covered in sweet berry compote and topped with a dollop of light-as-air fresh whipped cream.

  A double helping of perfectly crisp smoked bacon hadn’t helped. But it sure had tasted good.

  When the little curly-haired boy at the table next to hers
had eyed her lone spice muffin, she’d jokingly picked it up and pretended to take a bite. Except there was no pretending when she got a whiff of it. The rich scents had caught her attention and held on. One bite was never going to be enough.

  By the time she pressed the pad of her finger to the crumbs on her plate and popped them in her mouth, she couldn’t meet the little boy’s gaze. Or breathe. She needed to loosen her belt.

  As she pushed back her chair, Marie sidled up to the table, her hands full of empty dishes. Apparently Natalie wasn’t the only one who’d cleaned her plate this morning.

  “Good morning.” Marie’s face was tight, her eyes narrow, hollow. Dark purple circles marred the area below each eye. And the color that had once been in her cheeks had disappeared. Even her lips were white.

  Natalie shot to her feet and passed over the traditional greetings in favor of grabbing for the pile in Marie’s arms that seemed in imminent danger of tumbling to the floor. “Are you all right?”

  Marie perked up. At least she seemed to try. But her smile fell flat, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  “Bless your heart.” Natalie pulled her chair farther out and tried to guide Marie into it. “What’s wrong? Should I get Caden? Or Seth?”

  A small shake of Marie’s head silenced her. “Seth’s gone this week. He’s—he’s in Boston delivering a … Well, it doesn’t matter. I just don’t sleep so well when he’s not here. I’ll be fine.”

  Fine seemed an awfully relative term for someone who looked like she’d fall over under the weight of a sneeze.

  Marie didn’t give her room to argue as she waved toward the kitchen. “I need to talk with you about a few wedding things. Do you have time now? Let me just drop these off and I’ll be right back.”

  “Of course.” Stretchy yoga pants and a place to lie down would have to wait until after their discussion.

  When Marie arrived back at the table, Natalie couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure you’re okay? We can do this later. I’m free. I’m just … well, I was thinking about going to do some more work at the barn. It’s coming along. Nearly the whole interior is painted, and Justin is bringing in the tables next week. Surely this can wait until you’re feeling better.”

  “I’m all right. Really.” Marie slid into the seat across from Natalie.

  She leaned forward as Marie flipped a notebook open.

  Pen in hand, Marie pointed to three lines. “Caden is working on the cake options.”

  Oh dear. Not more food. Her stomach churned, and she had to physically bite back another moan.

  And yet, somehow her mouth was watering already at the very idea of Caden’s light, decadent sweets. Fluffy cake that literally melted with each bite. Creamy frosting so rich that it zinged at the back of her throat and made her feel a little light-headed. A tangy fruit filling between layers.

  Oh dear, indeed. This was the stuff of dreams.

  And stomachaches.

  Marie circled something on her paper. “She’ll have them ready next Thursday. Will Russell be back by then?”

  The question was completely innocent, but it still felt like a slap to the face. She swung a hand up to cover the stinging on her cheek, even if it wasn’t real.

  Forcing her hand back to her lap, she said, “I don’t think so. His last call said they have to rerecord half the album. And he’s the producer. He has to be there. He also has to get the album out on time or risk the distribution deal he made with a bigger label.”

  Marie nodded like she actually understood, but Natalie wasn’t even sure she’d gotten the language right. Russell hadn’t exactly invited her into his work world. Everything she’d learned about music had come from picking up snippets in his conversation. And from listening to Justin talk about his dreams for years.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m sure he’ll be back in plenty of time for the wedding.”

  Natalie wasn’t quite so confident, but she pushed down the doom that rose in her throat. Her and Russell’s definitions of “plenty of time” were at least three weeks off. In her book, he should be here. Now. This was his idea, after all.

  In his mind, he could pop in the day before the ceremony, don his tux, stand at the front of the church, and call it good.

  But that wasn’t Marie’s fault. She was only trying to be encouraging.

  So Natalie quickly agreed and forced the conversation into other—although she realized too late, perhaps not safer—waters. “Justin will be here to help me choose the cake.”

  “Justin?” Marie’s tone took on a decidedly teasing note, the corner of her mouth ticking up two notches. “Aretha said you two were ‘thick as thieves’ when you were kids. Is that true?”

  Staring at the ceiling, she debated if there was any use in denying the truth. But it was irrefutable. No matter who Marie talked to, everyone in this town would testify to the friendship that had kept them both afloat all those years.

  “Yes. We were friends. The very best.”

  The bags below Marie’s eyes seemed to twitch with sadness. “But not now?”

  Her mouth went dry, and nothing could make it easier to swallow. When she finally managed to get a response out, it sounded like it had been run through sand. “Not now. We … we lost touch.” What a lame explanation. What a weak confession.

  They hadn’t lost touch. They’d lost each other. She’d given up on him. She’d stopped waiting for him, and she’d refused to come back for him.

  It was a smack to her other cheek, this one coming with regret that billowed around her.

  Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Natalie suddenly shoved her chair out. “Excuse me. I need to go. Can we talk about the rest of this later?”

  “I’m sorry if I asked too many questions.”

  Not too many. Just the wrong ones.

  Natalie nearly ran to her room, where she flung off her too tight belt, shucked her restricting jeans, and tugged on a pair of black stretch pants that had seen her through hours and hours on the treadmill in her living room. These weren’t going-out pants, not even for the gym. As much as the harbor boardwalk and its tangy air tangling her hair called to her, what she wanted and needed most right now was a moment alone. And maybe a good cry.

  And definitely not thinking about how Justin might have had every right to be angry with her for leaving.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have left without telling him good-bye in person.

  But she’d been afraid. Afraid that he’d beg her to stay. Afraid she’d have been unable to refuse. Afraid that she’d end up like Connie O’Ryan—married to a man who didn’t love her and raising a child who only served to remind her of that fact.

  Except she still should have seen him …

  Her mind played out the scene as it could have been, as it should have been. Held so tenderly in his arms, hearing the sadness in his voice. But the hope. The promise.

  It didn’t have to be the end.

  The moment replayed time and again as she curled into a ball on her bed, her eyes closed to focus on what might have been. On the moment she’d robbed herself of.

  Why had she let Stella Burke rob her of that good-bye?

  Hours later Natalie woke to a soft knock on the door, and her rumbling stomach responded loudly. She’d wondered if she’d ever be hungry again, but the breads and pastries hadn’t lingered, their effects wearing off too quickly. The clock said it was well after two in the afternoon.

  Her eyes felt like sandpaper against her eyelids, but the tears had dried, the fog lifted.

  She stumbled from the bed, which was still fully made, and bumped into the door.

  “Housekeeping,” came the call from the other side.

  “Oh, I’m fine.” Her voice sounded more Rip van Winkle than short-term napper, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Thank you, though.”

  A soft set of footsteps disappeared down the hall, and Natalie leaned against the wall, a hand to her empty stomach.

  Caden always pu
t snacks on the buffet in the afternoons. Maybe she’d set them out early today. Ignoring her hair and her outfit, which probably looked as wrinkled as her voice sounded, she cracked open the door, peeked out to make sure the housekeeper had left, and tiptoed toward the back staircase. It emptied out to the hallway near the kitchen, which led straight into the dining room.

  Perfect. She could avoid running into nearly everyone, except maybe Caden, who wouldn’t give her any grief for not looking her best.

  The house was cool, the walls smooth as she ran her fingers along them. The steps were nearly silent until she reached the third-to-last one, which gave a low groan. She froze, her heart skipping a beat.

  But it drew no notice, and she kept going. The dining room was empty, even its tables stripped bare. She heard nothing coming from the kitchen. Apparently Caden wasn’t teaching a class today.

  Surely that meant she’d gotten the treats out early.

  Stealing across the room, Natalie held her breath. Please let there be something to tide her over. A cookie. A cupcake. Hope burst inside her. Maybe even a brownie.

  But when she reached the antique credenza, the glass cake stand that usually housed the goodies was empty.

  Rats.

  She let out a stiff breath through her nose and crossed her arms. She was either going to have to—

  A sudden crash made her jump. Instantly she ran for the kitchen, where the banging originated. Shoving the swinging door open, she plowed into the room, which at first glance appeared to be empty.

  Then a low groan came from the far side of the kitchen island. From the floor.

  Natalie burst around the edge of the counter and fell to her knees beside the crumpled form leaning against the island’s cabinet doors, careful to dodge the chocolate cupcakes scattered across the tile.

  Brushing the curls out of Marie’s face, Natalie pressed her hands to the other woman’s cheeks. “Marie? Marie? Can you hear me?”

  Her eyelids didn’t even flicker, but her lips parted on a moan.

  Everything inside Natalie knotted up, her eyes burning and ears ringing.