by Donna Alward
“Have I ever told you how much I love your place?” Laurel asked, taking her cloth bag to the small counter space in the kitchen area.
Willow shrugged. “It’s simple. Not much to love.”
“That’s just it. It’s so peaceful. There’s no clutter. No fuss. I come in here and it’s as if my stress just melts away.”
Willow smiled. “Well, that’s the general idea.” She took the bag, took out the bottle of wine, and stuck it in the fridge. “Go sit in the chair. I know you want to. There’s another five minutes before dinner is ready.”
They’d finally made time for dinner and a good gab. The more time that had passed, the more Laurel was sure she was making a lot out of nothing where Aiden was concerned. Either way, she could really use the downtime. Particularly with Willow, who practically exuded calm and rationality.
Besides, she had the chair.
Laurel grinned and headed right to the corner of the room, past the Buddha and the fountain. The chair was actually a freestanding hammock chair, and it faced the big, long windows along the back of the building. There wasn’t much to see out the back, and that was perfect. Laurel could see the roofs of the houses on Liberty Street, one block off of Main, but the trees were mature and kept the view private. Laurel slipped into the chair and relaxed, and stared out at the new leaves on the trees, a pair of chickadees dipping and darting, and a squirrel racing up the trunk of a huge spruce.
She nudged the floor with her toe, sending the chair in the smallest motion, and let out a breath.
She really needed to get one of these.
There was a pop from the kitchen; Willow had opened the bottle of Riesling that Laurel had brought along. “Food’s ready,” Willow called, and Laurel stopped the swing with a little regret. Not too much, though. Today had been so busy that she’d forgotten to eat lunch. Maybe that was good for her waistline, but not so much for her mood.
“What’d you make?” she asked. She looked at the plate in Willow’s hands and honestly couldn’t quite tell. It looked like there was something green and ribbon-y, and chicken, and sauce that smelled spicy and Asian.
“Spicy chicken and zucchini ribbons,” Willow replied. “Free range chicken, tomato, zucchini, chili, and tamari. But I add more vegetables than the recipe says. There are onions, peppers, and some choy in there.”
“Wow. This kind of beats my takeout offer.”
“This is better for you,” Willow informed her, putting the plates down on the table. “And it hardly took any work at all.”
As Laurel sat, Willow poured the wine. “Cheers. To finally having a whole evening for dinner and…” She smiled wickedly. “Whatever else we might get up to.”
Laurel laughed and touched the rim of her glass to Willow’s. “I’m too old for that shit.” She took a drink of the wine and put down the glass. “And we were such goody-two-shoes in school. I think we missed our window of opportunity.”
“Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” Willow put down her glass, too, and picked up her fork.
“You got that right,” Laurel muttered, and tasted a bit of the chicken. It was scrumptious.
They chatted and ate for a few minutes, talking about nothing of major consequence until Willow asked, “Have you heard anything about the robbery? Did they ever find who did it?”
It was a source of frustration for Laurel that whoever had damaged her store and stole her money was still out there, scot-free. “No. Apparently no one saw anything, and I don’t have cameras, so it’s just a dead end.” She sighed. “Same thing for the graffiti. Several spots got tagged that night, not just the store. Did you know they even painted the memorial fountain in the park?”
“I’d heard.”
“I bet the town will be installing more cameras.” Laurel frowned. “It’s a real shame. One of the things I liked about Darling was that it didn’t seem to need all that, not like other places. But I guess I was wrong.”
“Maybe we’ve seen the end of the trouble,” Willow said hopefully. She swiped a zucchini ribbon through the sauce on her plate. “Of course, something’s got to keep guys like Aiden Gallagher in a job.”
Laurel had anticipated comments about Aiden. But even expecting it, hearing his name sent a rush of heat through her.
Willow didn’t stop, either. “Though I hear he could have a promising future as a painter.”
Laurel adopted an innocent look. “This was yummy. I’m betting there’s dessert?”
“Lemon pound cake from the café. And don’t change the subject.”
“There was a subject?” Grinning, Laurel stood and took the dirty plates to the sink.
“Oh, girlfriend,” Willow said significantly. “Something happened, didn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” She did, but she wasn’t going to give it up this easily. Not when she could string Willow along a bit longer.
Willow’s tinkling laugh echoed as she went to the cupboard and took out a square container. “You pretty much spilled it at the meeting the other day, so you might as well tell me the details. I know you’re just trying to make me wait.” She turned to Laurel. “Tea, or more wine?”
“What do you think?”
Willow grinned. “Wine it is.”
They took their cake and wine over to the futon, which was made up like a sofa with an abundance of throw pillows. Laurel put her glass down on the little table and cut into her cake, while Willow managed to gracefully sit cross-legged, balancing the plate with the cake on the hollow where her ankles met, and keeping her wineglass in her hand.
Laurel had the thought that maybe she should give yoga a try. If she could manage a tenth of Willow’s serenity and grace, it might be worth it. Instead she rather suspected she was getting man-arms from all the lifting at work.
“Okay,” she said, letting Willow off the hook. “So after Aiden stopped by and helped me paint over the very crudely drawn genitalia, he grabbed a pizza and brought it over. Neither of us had had dinner. And sadly, I don’t have your skills in the kitchen.”
“I’ll sift through that sentence and say ‘Aiden helped me paint blah blah and brought over pizza, blah blah.’ Don’t try to distract me with extraneous information.”
Crumbs of cake caught in Laurel’s mouth as she tried not to laugh. “God. Sometimes I forget that you’ve got the capability to be ruthless. You would have made a good lawyer, Wil.”
“Funny. The law is not for me. I would want to strangle people within five minutes. Hence the yoga. People are far nicer when I’ve done yoga. And that was a distraction too. Tell me what happened. Did you do it? Knock boots? Do the nasty?” She waggled her eyebrows.
Those descriptions were so unlike Willow that Laurel burst out laughing. “Oh, it must have hurt you just to say that,” she gasped, reaching for her wine. “And no. We didn’t do the nasty.” Though come to think of it, she could imagine it well enough. And the room suddenly felt just a little bit hotter.
“Well, something happened. Come on, Laurel. I don’t have a love life. I have to live vicariously.”
Laurel wondered why. Willow was a little quirky, sure. But she was gorgeous, and talented, and sweet. And yet there had never been any man around or even mentioned. Not a past boyfriend or current interest.
“We talked, that’s all. Cleared the air and had pizza and I had some wine.” She looked ruefully at her glass. “I seem to be doing that a lot lately.”
“And…”
“And he kissed me before he left, that’s all. No biggie. I haven’t even talked to him since.”
And wasn’t that just driving her crazy? As much as she’d like to say it wasn’t, couldn’t he have at least called to say hey? Or stopped at the store when she was working, which was always?
She plopped a large bite of cake into her mouth.
“But what kind of kiss? A good-night-thanks-for-pizza kiss or an OMG-I-want-to-eat-your-face kiss?” Willow asked.
“First of all, eew. That is the
grossest description of a kiss I’ve ever heard.” Sadly, it was also quite accurate.
“Okay, let’s try another. Was it a curl-your-toes-and-want-to-have-breakfast-the-next-morning kiss?”
Laurel swallowed. “Bingo,” she whispered. “Aw, shit.”
Willow gaped, then put her empty plate down on the floor. “Really? It was that good? I was just kidding, but wow.”
“I didn’t even expect it,” Laurel admitted. “One moment we were saying good-bye at the door, and the next he was coming back inside and he took me in his arms and…” She stopped. She couldn’t give a play-by-play. It was too embarrassing.
But she didn’t need to. Willow clued in right away. “Oh, that’s swoony,” she said, falling back against the cushions, cradling her glass. “And then what happened?”
“Well, it lasted a while. I mean, he didn’t really hurry. And then he just left. Said he didn’t want to say anything to ruin it, and boom. Out the door. And that’s the last I’ve seen of him.”
Willow’s eyes were wide. “Did he leave a glass slipper on the steps?”
That made Laurel giggle like a schoolgirl, and she grabbed one of the throw pillows and threw it at Willow. “Shut up.”
They laughed for a bit, but then Willow asked the question Laurel had been asking herself for days.
“So, do you want to see him again?”
“I don’t know.” That was the answer she kept coming up with, time and time again. “It’s not really the high school thing. He apologized for that, and I know people grow up. Honestly, I think I was so angry at him because it saved me being embarrassed about my own part in it. I could have handled it differently. Better.”
Willow shook her head. “Naw. Aiden got exactly what he deserved that day. Though it was a waste of a perfectly good vanilla milkshake.”
They smiled again, but the mood had gone slightly serious.
“It’s more … I’m not sure I’m ready to date anyone. The part that sticks with what happened with Dan is that it was a lie. What I thought was a real thing turned out to be anything but. And you know the old saying, fool me once…” She frowned, studied the pale liquid in her glass. “Dan’s not a bad guy, deep down. But once again I found myself in a position where what I thought was reality was so far from it … I don’t know how to trust people anymore. I don’t know how to believe that they mean what they say. Does that make any sense?”
Willow’s eyes had softened during Laurel’s confession. “It makes a ton of sense,” she replied softly. “Because it’s not just about trusting other people, it’s about trusting yourself, too, isn’t it?”
Laurel nodded. “It really is. My judgment hasn’t been so shit-hot in the past.”
“Preach it, sister.” Willow smiled half-heartedly.
“About Dan … there’s more.” Laurel felt the need for more fortification so she went to the kitchen and topped up her glass. “He called last Sunday. He and Ryan are going to tie the knot, right at our very own Kissing Bridge.” She headed back to the sofa, and gave Willow a mock toast with her glass.
“You’re joking. Here?”
“Yep.”
“That’s kind of…”
“Insensitive, to my mind,” Laurel said. She contemplated her glass again. “Oh look. Truth juice.”
“It’s kind of rubbing your nose in it, isn’t it?”
But it wasn’t. “There’s not a vindictive bone in Dan’s body. He’s just happy. And he doesn’t understand how much damage he’s done, maybe because I’ve tried to be supportive. Granted, I freaked out when I first found out the truth. And I shed my share of tears and threw a few things and … well, I was pretty angry. I mean, this was a life-altering revelation, you know? I…” Her throat started to close up. “That night when he said we needed to talk, I got so excited. I thought he was going to say it was time we could think about starting our family.”
“Oh, honey.”
Laurel cleared her throat. “He’s happy, and I’m happy for him. I truly am, deep down. But that doesn’t mean that it’s easy or that I need ringside seats.” She sighed. “Some days I really wish I were a better person.”
Willow straightened her shoulders. “You are a good person. Don’t ever think you’re not. Most people wouldn’t even speak to their ex after that. I’ve seen plenty of divorced couples who hate each other just as passionately as they loved each other and it’s ugly.”
The rim of the glass was getting fuzzy, and Laurel figured she’d better call it a day where the wine was concerned. “That’s just it, Wil. I don’t hate him passionately. And that makes me think I didn’t love him passionately, either. And I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”
“Maybe it just means you’re a grown-up. That you’re more forgiving than you realize.”
Laurel looked over at her friend. She could always count on Willow to make her feel better. “I love you, Wil.”
Willow’s eyes softened. “I love you too, dork.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“So you’re going to the wedding?” Willow finally asked.
“Better than that. I’m helping with the decorating. They want plants and shrubs and baskets and stuff. The idea is that they can take them home after and add them to the yard.”
“Oh God. So it’s a case of help us have a pretty wedding and then fancy up our perfect home?”
“The home that was my home. It’s awkward. And I think it’s a lot to ask.”
“But you’ll do it anyway. Because that’s who you are.”
She shrugged.
“Do you ever say no to anything?” Willow drained the last of her wine and put the glass down on her floor.
“I said no to the photo project the town has planned. It’s bad enough they have a picture of me when I was five. They don’t need one of me twenty-odd years later.”
“You really did say no? To Oaklee? Because she’s persistent.”
“I’m not putting on a wedding dress and pretending to gaze lovingly into Aiden Gallagher’s eyes. Not after … well, everything. Oaklee’s probably nice enough, but I don’t owe her anything.”
“True enough.” Willow got up from the futon and went to a small cabinet. She took out a DVD and came back, holding it out to Laurel. “Here. You’re in desperate need of yoga. Try a few of these practices. I’ll loan you a mat.”
“Willow…”
But Willow had flitted over to the kitchen and was scribbling on a slip of paper. “And this is the YouTube channel of my favorite meditations. Go look it up. You need some peace and serenity. If I didn’t already know you’d refuse, I’d ask you to come with me next weekend and get your chakras balanced.”
Laurel rolled her eyes.
“Hey,” Willow insisted. “Don’t knock it until you try it. That kind of woo-woo stuff saved my life.”
Laurel looked at her friend, more closely than she had in the past. Willow was serious, and Laurel felt a pang in her heart knowing that somewhere along the line Wil had been hurt. This was the most Willow had shared with her, so she didn’t press. Laurel got the sense that Willow would tell her on her own time.
“I’ll look it up and try one,” she promised.
“Good. Wanna watch a movie or something?”
“That sounds nice,” Laurel agreed. She should go home and start planning Dan’s arrangements, but it could wait for another day.
Tonight she was going to hang out with her best friend and do absolutely nothing. And it felt wonderful.
CHAPTER 8
Memorial Day weekend was always a big deal in Darling. There was a monument in the park in honor of those who’d served, and a garden with a fountain that remembered the victims and first responders of 9/11. There was a parade, local churches had special services, the fire and police departments sponsored open houses and other events, and families all over town had their first big backyard barbecue of the season.
Aiden had volunteered to go to the Ladybug Garden Center on behalf of
the force, to purchase a hanging basket to raffle off in support of their scholarship fund. He hadn’t seen Laurel in a few weeks, and his sister Hannah had heard from Oaklee that Laurel had turned down the photo proposition. She seemed to be over the whole “never speaking to you again” thing, and he was surprised she’d been able to say no. Oaklee was known for getting her way.
Truth be told, he’d thought the picture might be fun for a laugh. There was, after all, a certain irony in it. But maybe she didn’t agree. Maybe it had something to do with their kiss, and the fact that he hadn’t called. And the longer time went on, the more difficult it became.
He searched for a parking spot in the already nearly-full lot. They were sure doing a brisk business, he noted, watching someone wheel out a cart holding several baskets and flats of plants. With the weather forecast for the long weekend being sunny and warm, he supposed a lot of people would be in their gardens. His mom included. Maybe he should pick up something for her, too. Butter her up a bit. He hadn’t been around much and she was constantly lamenting her sons’ absence. Rory showed up slightly more often than Aiden, but that was just because Aiden often worked over the dinner hour.
When he entered the store, Laurel looked up from behind the cash register and their eyes met. He felt the jolt right to his toes and suppressed a frown. Granted, it had been one hell of a kiss they’d shared, but this whole chemistry thing was a bit much. And it kept happening.
It had shaken him more than he’d planned. And he’d been a coward ever since—so much for not repeating past history. At least the raffle baskets gave him a good excuse to see her, and he could test the waters. See if she was really angry. He really wasn’t sure he would ever figure women out, or know the right thing to say or do.
