by Grace Greene
“Well, you ladies look very comfortable here, but I am surprised. When I first saw you, I thought I was seeing mermaids. Just two mermaids sitting on a rock in the middle of the day.”
I glanced at Maddie. She was looking at him, staring.
He scratched his head. “What’s her name? The name of that mermaid? I could’ve sworn that’s who was sitting next to you, Kara.”
“I think the mermaid you’re thinking of is called . . . Wanda.”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound quite right.”
Maddie said, “Ariel. That’s me.”
“Are you?” Will gave her a big bright smile. “Well, Miss Maddie Ariel, would you like a hand off that rock?” He held out his hands. “In fact, I’ve never assisted a mermaid from the creek.”
Maddie giggled. She was back. My heart eased but not my worry.
“Just a sec, Will. Maddie?” I touched her arm. “You know you can’t play at the creek without a grown-up, right?”
“I know. Uncle Seth and I sailed boats. I found my boat. It wanted to go sailing.”
“Promise me you won’t go off again like that, and never to the creek, alone.”
“I promise.”
“You already promised Grammy, but you did it anyway. You can’t do this again until Grammy says you’re old enough. Understand?”
“Yup.” She pushed wet hair back from her face. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Well then, Miss Maddie Ariel, let’s go see Grammy. You owe her a big apology.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ll have to tell her that yourself.” I shifted to help her stand and kept a hand on her. “I’ll help you over to Will.”
She made the transition easily. Meanwhile, I was awkwardly making my own way across the rocks. By the time I made it to shore, Maddie was holding Will’s hand and hopping a little, laughing at my old-person awkwardness, which I exaggerated for comic effect. Will grinned broadly as he took my hand and helped me onto shore.
“Where to, ladies?”
Maddie said, “Mermaids!”
“Mermaids. I stand corrected.”
“To Grammy’s house,” Maddie said. “She’s waiting for me.”
We saw Mel approaching before we reached the bridge. Maddie ran to her. Mel was immediately on her knees hugging her granddaughter.
“Don’t ever go off like that again.” She kissed Maddie’s face. “Never do that.”
“I promise.”
Mel nodded, and more quickly than it would take to say it, she gave my wet clothing a second look, realized Maddie’s dress was damp, spared us a quick smile, hugged her granddaughter again, and pressed her face into the child’s silky hair.
Love, I thought. It was all about love. Guilt, responsibility, duty, betrayal, and too many words and concepts to name were all rolled up into that one simple word. Not to mention receiving love and the fear of losing it. And the need to give love—and having someone in your life who was pleased to receive it.
Will and I walked back to Wildflower House together.
“Thank you for your help,” I said. “Maddie misses her uncle very much.”
He nodded. “Seems like a lot of folks miss him.”
His remark seemed pointed, perhaps directed at me, but before I could respond—or choose not to—he added, “That’s a good thing. It’d be sad to leave and have no one notice.”
My imagination, then? “That’s true,” I said. “What about you, Will?”
“Me?” He shrugged. “Nah. I don’t miss him much.”
“What?” I saw him grinning, and I groaned. “That’s not what I meant. I mean you. Your family. I don’t know much about your life.”
He smiled. “My family is as brilliant and as messed up as most. That’s what makes them worth knowing.”
“I love how you say that.”
“Anytime you want to hear more, I’m happy to share.”
Was it the words? The tone of our voices? A teasing quality in our interaction? One of us, or maybe both of us, had steered this conversation into interesting but risky waters. Too soon, I cautioned myself. I wasn’t ready for this.
I put extra space between us. We walked the rest of the way in silence, each with our own thoughts. I hoped his were more pleasant than the mash-up going on in my head. I liked Will. I liked Seth. Seth and I had something going, right? Potential, certainly. And Will?
As we neared the house, we stopped.
Will cleared his throat. “Speaking of leaving, Jim asked me to take a look at another job, a big one, that he’s got coming up, and he’d like me to check out a couple of others.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“Let’s be up front here, Kara. You can’t keep thinking up projects, and I can’t continue suggesting projects so I’ll have an excuse to be here.”
“Is that what we’ve been doing?” I looked down at my wet clothing to avoid his gaze. “Yes, I guess we have.” I frowned and then stared him in the eye. “But every one of those projects was important. Look what we’ve built here. And don’t you dare say we didn’t build it. I couldn’t have done it alone.”
“It was my pleasure to be part of your project, Kara.”
“We aren’t done yet.”
“Aren’t we?”
Undercurrents, other meanings, swirled around us. Victoria might enjoy them, but I didn’t.
“Don’t talk that way,” I said.
Will said, “Lots of talk, but neither of us is saying what’s really on our minds.” After a long moment of silence, he asked softly, “How’s Seth, Kara?”
I was struck silent, but my brain churned furiously. I tried to think of something clever or witty or diverting to say. I failed.
Will took my hands in his. “Be honest, Kara. Tell me what you’re feeling. If I’m wrong, if you don’t feel the way I do, then I’ll back off. Just say it.”
Instinctively, I tried to pull my hands from his. Will looked at me, then released them. I stepped back, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.
“Do you have an understanding between you? An unofficial engagement or something like that?”
“It’s not that simple, Will.” I shook my head. “Long-distance relationships aren’t easy. He’s caught up with the new job. I encouraged him to go.” And I’d said I’d wait for him to come home, hadn’t I? I’d told him I’d be here when he did. I felt confused.
He gave me a long look, stepped toward me, and gently touched my cheek. His fingers rested there for a moment before tracing the curve of my jaw and the length of my neck.
“Will?” I whispered.
“I understand. You should talk to him. I won’t bring this up again until you tell me you’re ready, but please don’t take too long figuring it out. Life goes on, Kara. It doesn’t wait. We don’t want to miss our chance.” He took his hand away. He said, his voice low and steady, “I won’t be here tomorrow—nothing to do with anything except Jim asking me to check out those new jobs—and I’ll be back to work on the medallion garden, but if you need me or need anything, call me. Anytime.”
I let him leave. He walked around the side path, and I put up a hand to wave, expecting him to look back. He didn’t.
No point in denying I felt something for Will. I should’ve figured things out with Seth before now. I’d thought I had time.
I wished Will had kept his feelings secret a little longer, because I didn’t know what to do.
My heart was racing. I pressed my hand to my chest.
Forgetting my thigh and the possibility of falling flat, I chased after him. Maybe I could catch him. Maybe—
The driveway—only my car was there. A thin cloud of dirt hovered over the drive. Will was gone.
I showered off the creek water and changed into shorts and a fresh shirt. I stood in front of the mirror and examined my face.
Will’s fingers on my face, my neck . . . my skin felt different somehow. Still oddly tender.
I’d known that he had feelings for me.
Seth had feelings for me too. I believed that, but how deep were they? I cared about Seth. I cared about Will.
We were all living in the midst of change. Life was constant change, and sometimes our lives were shuffled and redealt despite our intentions. No wonder we got confused.
Patience, I told myself. Don’t panic, and don’t rush because you’re afraid.
Back downstairs, I stopped in the foyer and stood in front of the photo. Each of those women, from the youngest in white dresses and black stockings to the older women in dark, heavy-looking gowns, had a story. They’d had heartaches, embarrassments, and fears. I hoped they’d had laughter and triumphs too.
I hoped they’d been able to laugh at those embarrassments and fears. I hoped they’d found love.
Seth had brought me that framed photograph from Sue Deale soon after we’d moved in because he’d known I’d love it. Victoria and Will had helped me hang the photo and the samplers because they were my friends. I was glad. The photo, the samplers, the piano, and all the rest belonged here at Wildflower House. And so did I.
That night when I went upstairs to get ready for bed, I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the prescription bottles. The remaining pills rattled in the plastic containers.
Heaven knew my brain was dizzy enough tonight with thoughts of Seth and Will flashing back and forth in my head.
I looked at my bed, the covers, the pillow. I’d been sleeping well lately, but if I didn’t have these meds on hand . . . I felt the pressure in my veins increase ever so slightly, and the beat of my heart thudded faintly but noticeably in my temples. My breathing rate increased. A low hum began in my ears.
For me, these pills weren’t the problem—I was the problem. I was lucky, unlike my mom and others who had a physical dependence on a substance. I’d gone for days now without taking them and had experienced no ill effects.
So I didn’t need to worry about it, right?
In fact, it made sense not to toss them. If I didn’t have a problem and could toss the last ones, then I should just go ahead and finish them up over the next several days. Finish them and be done.
As I pressed the cap down and twisted it off, I felt a telltale easing in my heart rate, and a sense of well-being flooded me . . . a feeling of “This is good.” I tilted the bottle, and one pill slid onto my palm. I didn’t have water handy.
But . . .
After a very long moment, I upended the bottle, and the last pills joined the first. I did the same with the other leftovers. I closed my fist around them.
In the near dark, I descended the stairs. Moonlight backlit the stained glass window, and I could see my way. I exited through the kitchen and walked out into the backyard. The ground was so familiar to me that I didn’t hesitate. The slope was wide open down to the creek. The bench was a dark silhouette, unmoving—a reliable marker in the night.
The grass was damp, especially near the creek. I stood in the moonlight, wanting to make a statement before heaven, for tomorrow and the future, and to do it here, on the banks of Cub Creek, which had flowed through time, lives, and generations.
I was doing it tonight with the wet grass beneath my bare feet and the moon overhead as witnesses. I had to. Because tomorrow came with no guarantees. Life didn’t wait.
Extending my arm as far as I could, I turned my hand over and allowed the pills to fall into the flowing water.
I thought of Mel and Maddie and those women from the photograph and so many unknown, anonymous others. In comparison to what they might have experienced or the difficult tasks they’d had to accomplish, this was a nothing thing. This was no more than the giving up of a crutch. Postrecovery, these pills had only been a false protection from life and difficult emotion.
My mother’s need had been different, and perhaps stopping had not been an option for her—I couldn’t judge that, but I understood it better now. I was grateful that for me it was a simple fix.
Sometimes the simplest fixes were also the hardest—because they required a person to take a chance and get out of her own way.
And for once, that was what I’d done.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Come morning, my perspective had shifted. I was done with being torn between feelings for Will and Seth. Both were good men. I wouldn’t torture myself about it, especially when there were more important things to consider. In fact, worrying over two grown men when Maddie was the one at risk . . . I couldn’t turn my back on that reality. I saw her again in my mind, huddled on that rock, her clothes and hair wet with creek water, missing her stand-in father.
I called Seth.
Was I doing the right thing? Did I have the right to interfere? To, in effect, tattle on his family?
I had to, regardless.
He answered, and I asked, “Is it a good time to talk?”
“Kara. Yeah, it’s good.”
“This is awkward, Seth. I apologize up front for calling about it.”
“What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“Yes, I think so. I’m worried about Maddie.”
“What? Is she sick? Is she okay?”
“You know she’s having a really hard time adjusting to your absence.”
“I spoke with her yesterday. She sounded okay.”
I went silent for a moment. Trying to convey my concern delicately wasn’t getting the job done.
“It might be more than that, Seth.”
“It’s normal for children to take a while to adjust to changes in their lives, but they do. Maddie has lots of love and support. Is there something specific that’s causing you worry?”
I sputtered a little, uncomfortable. “Mel isn’t getting any younger, Seth. She looks tired.”
“Tired? What does that mean?”
“Well, I think it’s normal for her age. Keeping up with a young child isn’t easy.”
“Oh.” I heard Seth breathing. Finally he said, “I spoke to Mom yesterday. She told me about Maddie’s adventure, but she said everyone was fine. I can’t believe she’d take a risk regarding Maddie Lyn.”
“She’d never allow Maddie to be put at risk, but she might overestimate her . . . personal bandwidth . . . her energy. Did you know that Maddie has run off on her own twice now?”
There, I’d said it. Now it was in Seth’s hands.
But Seth still didn’t get it. “Mom told me that Maddie had gone over to your house a couple of times. We both explained to Maddie that she’s too young to walk over by herself. Was there more to it than that?”
Was there, I asked myself? I thought yes. Should I reemphasize my concern about Maddie? I settled for, “I don’t want to intrude. Talk to your Mom and Nicole. Make sure everyone is on the same page, okay?”
“I will.” His voice took on a softer tone. “I appreciate your caring and talking to me about it.”
“Come home soon, Seth, okay? I’d like to talk to you face to face.”
“Soon. And I understand. Phones are great, but it isn’t the same. I’ve decided where we’re going to dinner. It’s a pretty cool place, and the food is excellent.”
He may have heard my sigh through the phone, because his tone shifted. He said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you in person, too, so I’ll have a better chance of convincing you to come out here with me.”
“It’s not that simple, Seth.”
“For a visit, at least. I know you’re busy. Maybe for a week. Just consider it.”
I sighed again. Seth gave a short laugh.
“No worries, Kara. We’ll talk it out. And I’m glad you called. See you soon.”
“Bye, Seth.”
We disconnected.
It was left to me to wait.
And what about Will? I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be content to stay in the friend category. So maybe he was waiting on Seth too.
The next day, Nicole called. “I’m bringing Hannah Cooper over to meet you today and to get a look at the carriage house. Maybe in about an hour?”
“Looking for
ward to it,” I said. And no time like the present. I was counting on Hannah’s involvement even though I’d yet to even meet her. I knew she was the most well known of the local artisans we were hoping would engage with us for our someday guests. Plus, that vase . . . its artistry intrigued me. When Nicole called out from the front door, “Kara?” I came up the hallway to see her and a slim woman with blonde hair at my front door.
I opened the screen door, saying, “Welcome. Please come in. You must be Hannah?”
“I am.”
She offered her hand. I shook it, saying, “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m sure Nicole explained what I’m planning here at Wildflower House.”
“She has. It sounds interesting.”
“I’d love to show you the carriage house and get your thoughts on how we might use that space for pottery and ceramics. I want to use it for other things, too, like maybe painting, but I was hoping you could look at the space and help me understand what I don’t know enough about to ask reasonable questions. I want to maximize the space.”
“Happy to.” But she wasn’t looking at me. She’d stopped in the sitting room and was standing at the fireplace mantel.
“The blue vase? Nicole gave it to us as a housewarming gift. It’s beautiful.”
Hannah smiled at me. Her face lit up, and her blue eyes deepened. “I’m glad you like it.”
“How could I not? It’s amazing. I’ve never seen shaping and glazing done quite like that. Maybe one day you’ll tell me the secret?”
She gave me a sharp look and then visibly relaxed. In a teasing tone, she said, “We all have our secrets. Sometimes they are better kept than shared.”
“Truth,” I said.
Hannah cast a wider glance around the room as we moved from it back into the foyer. She paused for a long moment in front of the photo of the women before turning back toward me. “I’d love to see your carriage house. And if you don’t mind, I’d love to see more of the house too.”
“Of course.”
“You probably know that I grew up not far from here. Cooper’s Hollow.”
