by Grace Greene
“Yes, I do. You’re still in the area, right? Near here?”
“Still in Cooper’s Hollow.” She smiled. “I never wanted to live anywhere else.”
“Perfect, because what I’m hoping to arrange is a place where local artists and artisans can work with groups who are visiting here, depending upon their interests.”
Nicole said, “And more than clay and painting. Local talent and specialists. If someone wants to bird-watch, we can certainly find someone who can provide that instruction. I know a local man who’s a chess master. My yoga instructor can teach classes. My friend Dierdre has a massage table and will travel.”
I stepped back, physically and emotionally. “Not a spa, Nicole. Birds, maybe, but . . .”
Hannah laughed. She touched my arm and said kindly, “Don’t limit yourself and don’t limit your world because you’re worried about overreaching. Open the door to your world, and see what shows up.” Her gaze shifted below the mantel, and she smiled. “Who painted the fire screen paintings? They are perfect.”
“Do you know Will Mercer?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“He works for Mitchell’s Lawn and Landscaping.”
“I’m familiar with them.” She looked curious. “They’re into fine art?”
“Oh, no,” I said. “Will’s sister, Brittany, painted these. He introduced me to her work.”
The three of us walked through the house. Hannah remarked, “I grew up nearby but never had the opportunity to come in here and satisfy my curiosity. My grandmother knew the Forsters in their younger years . . .”
“My father grew up in the area, too, but left when he was young. The Langes?”
“Sorry, no,” she said. “I don’t recall them, but we didn’t get out much. We kept to ourselves, mostly . . .” She trailed off, and we walked outside to the grounds. She went silent as I opened the wide doors to the carriage house. I went in ahead of them and pulled the chain to give us light.
Throughout the tour and now in the carriage house, Hannah carried herself with grace and contained energy. When she spoke, her hands moved as if crafting the words and phrases—as if the internal music of sculpture ran through her clear to her fingertips. I found myself watching her speak and listening to her tone and word choices and totally missing what she was saying. Dad had always spoken in even, controlled tones. Hannah’s voice and cadence were almost magical. But her hands . . . I understood why she chose to express herself with them, albeit via clay.
Hannah said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to share what you’re planning here with some of my friends. See who might be interested.”
Hannah Cooper believed in this project. I did, too, but to have this kind of help offered . . . it was humbling. And uplifting. That was the thought that remained with me after Nicole and Hannah left.
What she’d said about leaving the door open and seeing what showed up . . . that idea lingered with me, teasing me. I laughed. I certainly did leave my door open most every morning, literally, for the fresh air and the breeze and the morning sun. Maybe I could do it emotionally, too, and grow more confident in my ability to deal with whatever walked into my life. And whoever.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Seth called two days later to say he had his plane ticket.
“We’re going to Tavern on the Rail for dinner. You’ll love it. Great food and ambience. A special kind of place. Not too dressy. I’ll be on your doorstep at six sharp on Friday. Nothing will get in our way this time.”
“I’ll be here.” I disconnected with a smile.
Dressy. Not too dressy. What did that mean anyway? The restaurant was in the country, so no diamonds or sequins, I joked to myself. Plus, there was more to this date than a dinner. I would welcome Seth and see where it went from there. Whatever worked out between us or didn’t, I considered him a friend.
I hadn’t seen Will in two days, and before that, I’d seen him only in passing, delivering some plants and enriched soil that was now piled in the area intended for the medallion garden. I trusted Will. He was a valued friend.
I didn’t want to lose either of them as friends. For more than friendship? I had to give Seth a chance—or at least be honest with him face to face. It was hard to walk away from a relationship I’d put so much hope into.
A simple dress, sleek and flattering to my thin build, seemed a good choice. Might as well maximize my few good features, I thought, and I laughed again, but the sound had a nervous edge to it.
Come Friday, his knock on the front door was punctual and crisp. It echoed up the hallway. I was already in the foyer, ready and waiting—also punctual. I opened the door, trying to play it cool, but couldn’t stop myself from throwing my arms around him and hugging him. When I stepped back, only slightly embarrassed, Seth smiled at me and said, “You look amazing.”
“So do you,” I said. “I mean, you look amazing standing in my doorway. It’s been too long, Seth.”
“Don’t brush off the compliment, Kara.”
I allowed myself to preen a bit. It had been a long time since I’d dressed up for pleasure, for anyone. Not since the disastrous anniversary when Niles had died.
“Come in, Seth.” He did, and I closed the door.
He walked past me, crossing through the foyer into the sitting room. He stopped in the wide opening between the sitting room and dining room.
“You left the wallpaper up in the dining room?”
“Moore Blackwell worked on it for days and days.” I flipped on the chandelier. “What do you think?”
“This looks great. You’ve made it work—mixing the old and the new. Nicole told me it was beautiful.”
“She did?”
“I see Hannah Cooper’s blue vase in here, and it echoes the blues in the parlor. What’s this?” He’d stopped in front of the fireplace. He looked back at me. “Who did these?”
“Will Mercer’s sister, Brittany.”
“Really? You said he works for the landscaper?”
“He does.”
“Well, these are nice. Very nice.”
“Beautiful, actually. Brittany is very talented. Let me show you the kitchen remodel.”
He walked with me into the kitchen and gave a low whistle. “Wow. That kitchen was so awful.” He laughed. “I heard you say that yourself. But this is . . .”
“Perfect? Gorgeous?”
“Perfectly gorgeous.” He turned to me with a serious look. “You’ve done great. Nicole thinks you’re almost ready to open for business.”
I drew in a hard breath. “Not quite. Nicole is an optimist. We still have to deal with the sewage field and adding the small bathrooms upstairs, and it will all have to pass inspection.”
He frowned. “Are you still worried about it?”
“Worry? I think it’s more about dealing with reality. Some things are worth tackling, and some aren’t. Unfortunately, we don’t always know ahead of time which is which.” I touched his arm. “I’m firmly grounded in reality. Not the businessperson my dad was and not the emotionally driven, hidden woman that my mom was. I’m somewhere in between.” I laughed. “And now I’m discovering I have a bit of an artist in me. I can’t imagine where that will lead.”
“You are you. Just be you, Kara.”
“And you should be you, Seth.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “I want to be honest, Kara.”
“Me too, Seth. I think we should talk.”
“I thought maybe after dinner, but . . . I don’t know. There’s something in your face, your eyes.”
I nodded. “What are your plans for the immediate future and long term?”
He looked away, then back at me, and he shrugged. “I like LA. I like the city.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“We’ve had something special between us from the day we met. You feel the same, right?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Come out there, Kara. Come see the city. I’m torn between being there and h
ere. I can’t keep making these quick trips every few weeks.”
I looked away. I took my emotional temperature by the rate at which my heart beat and found my answer. After a deep breath, I said, “Then you should stay.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head. “I have to be back before Wednesday. I have a big client meeting that day and—”
“No. You should stay there. If returning to Cub Creek was the answer, you wouldn’t feel torn. You’d just be planning how quickly you could make it happen.”
He stared at me.
“In fact, you didn’t come back this time because you wanted to. Or for me. Did you? You came because you felt you had to, not because you wanted to.”
Seth said, “It’s not that simple, Kara. A big part of my life is on the far side of the country. It’s like a whole different world—and one I’m discovering that I’m pretty successful in.”
“Then I’m happy you’ve found success, Seth.”
“You don’t sound happy. I’m doing the best I can to take everyone into consideration.”
I heard his swift intake of breath. He looked me in the face and leaned toward me.
“Kara, the current situation is confusing for me too. I care about you. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”
“The best way not to hurt me is to be honest. That’s all you owe me, Seth. Just care enough to be honest.”
“I’m not sure I want to return to Cub Creek.” He watched my face. “At least not now.”
He waited. I did too. What was there to say?
“You don’t look surprised,” Seth said.
“I’m not. Not really . . .”
“We hardly had a chance to get to know each other before our lives turned upside down.” He paused before adding, “At one point I didn’t believe you could really make this dream into reality here at Wildflower House—but you are; you have. It astounds me. Maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe it just shows how little I truly knew you.”
“Or know me.”
“Kara.”
“It’s okay, Seth. It really is.” I rested my hands lightly on his arms. “Nothing stays the same. No moment stays static. We had a moment. We just didn’t know it was a moment in the midst of change. Maybe if we’d been together, changing together . . .”
“You encouraged me to find a job I loved. You told me to go for it.”
“I did. I would do it again. It was the right thing. I still believe that.”
He nodded but didn’t speak for a long moment. “I guess time will tell how things work out for us?”
“Or won’t work out.” I pulled my hands back. “I think we already know the answer, Seth. I don’t mean to sound hard, but I’m tired of waiting. Waiting on what my husband wanted, waiting to see what my dad decided, waiting . . . waiting on my mom to come back home and put our lives back together.” I clenched my fists. “I did, you know. I stood at the windows watching for her. I cut school to search the area on foot, looking for her car.”
He frowned. “Your mom died. She couldn’t come back.”
“Two years after she left, yes, she died. But that’s not my point. I waited on everyone and never fought back, not for myself. I tried to fit myself in everyone else’s life, their needs . . .”
“Kara, I never asked for you to do that.”
“No, Seth, you didn’t. I volunteered it. I have always taken the second seat. I’ve always ridden shotgun throughout my life. I want to drive for a change. I want to do what I want to do with no regard for anyone else. And I don’t care if it sounds selfish. It’s simple honesty.”
He opened his mouth a couple of times but then closed it. He was thinking. I could almost see his brain working. Finally, he said, “Don’t get mad. I’m just gonna say it outright. You do sound selfish, but I think you’ve probably just spoken the truest words anyone has ever uttered. Everyone feels that way at some point.”
“Seth, distance doesn’t work for me. I want to share my life with someone in real time.”
As we stared into each other’s eyes, it felt different. Our dynamic had changed along with expectations. Had almost vanished. I saw a man. Seth. Someone I liked well enough to be a friend to, who’d been kind to me when I’d moved here, but whose shortcomings were his own. His flaws required no action, no cover or explanation, from me.
I asked, “What about Maddie?”
He looked away. “It isn’t that I don’t want her in LA with me, but it would be irresponsible. When she’s older, having her in my care will be more workable. Maybe then . . .”
My heart broke a little for Maddie and also for Seth. One day he would look back and question his choices. But that would be on him. Not me.
“Good luck, Seth. I hope the job continues to be everything you want it to be.”
“Come and visit me there. Stay. Get to know the area. I want Maddie to visit too. It’s a long trip but just a flight away.”
“It’s okay, Seth. Truly. Go. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Los Angeles is a fantastic place. A place you should experience before you dismiss it.”
I shook my head. “I won’t be flying out there. I’m pretty busy here.”
Seth stood, and I stood with him. He put his arms around me, and I returned the hug, but it was a friendly hug. A wish-you-well hug.
“Goodbye for now,” he said.
“Goodbye, Seth.”
He left. I locked the front door behind him, kicked off my heels, and went out, but in the opposite direction.
I sat for a long while on the bench by the creek. My head was empty. Not in a bad way but in that waiting mode. The lying-in-bed-wondering-why-I’m-awake way. The trees were darkening with night shadows, and the sky was tinged with deep purple. I saw the first firefly lights winking in and out at the edge of the woods.
As night fell, the creek continued to pass quietly and discreetly. Birds called from the nearby trees. Gnomes might be watching, and a deer or two might be hoping I’d leave so they could graze without distraction. Still, I sat, but now I asked myself, Why? What had happened? How did I feel about it?
I’d feared disappointment and maybe a broken heart. Maybe even guilt because I’d almost screwed up again—or would have, if I’d had my bullheaded way. I would’ve committed the same mistakes as I had before with Niles. Why did people do that? Because it was the familiar path?
But I didn’t feel disappointment. And my heart was beating cheerfully in my chest. Nothing broken there.
His friendship and his support—I wanted to keep them, but I also wanted to stay here. Seth wanted a different path. Maybe we’d never been on the same path. Maybe they’d only run parallel for a short time. And maybe part of the attraction, despite everything I’d been telling myself, was that as long as he was away, we could put off commitment. We could avoid screwing it up.
I felt relief. Like I’d had a near escape from a big mistake. A mistake that would’ve harmed us both.
Seth was doing exactly what I said I wanted to do—living his life in real time, making his decisions without needing approval or permission.
I laughed, and one of the nearby birds settling into the trees for the night squawked and trilled at me. I laughed louder, and a deer on the far side of the creek raised his head, and his bright eyes looked at me in question.
Waiting on me to leave, probably.
I was laughing because, of course, what I’d said I wanted was exactly what I didn’t want. I wanted to be my own person, but I also wanted my own person. My own person. Not someone to follow or miss but someone to partner with. To dance with. To kiss. To hug whenever I felt like it. I wanted to be with someone who wanted to be with me—not because he had to be but because I was me and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
The day after Seth left, I visited Mel. I was apprehensive. When she answered the door, I said, “Can we talk?”
“Come in, Kara.” She didn’t look too pleased. I noted the shadows were darker beneath her eyes, and her cheeks looked gau
nt. Where was the vitality I’d seen only a few weeks before?
“How are you feeling these days, Mel?”
“Slow, Kara. Just slow. Feeling my age, I guess. Have a seat?”
We sat at the kitchen table.
Mel said, “I’m glad school is back in session. Maddie needs to be out among children her own age.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve been thinking about something. I hope you won’t mind if I make a suggestion?”
She shrugged. “Of course not. If I do mind, I’ll tell you straight out.”
“I know you will.” I gathered my words. Practice empathy, I told myself. It wasn’t always my strong point, but I could claim more competence with it than my dad. “I was thinking that Maddie could spend afternoons with me. Maybe start off during the week. She can join me after school. That will give you a little time to breathe.” I stopped, trying to gauge what she was thinking.
Mel shook her head. “I know what you told Seth—I wasn’t up to taking care of Maddie anymore—but remember it’s not just me alone. It’s me and Nicole. I know Maddie has wandered off twice now, but that’s due to Seth being gone. Him leaving shook Maddie’s world. But she’s adjusting now, especially with school to occupy her.”
“I meant no offense when I told Seth.” I looked away and shrugged. “He didn’t take my worry seriously, anyway. He thought I was just wanting him to come back home.”
“Did you?”
“Did I miss him and want him back here? Yes. But that’s absolutely not why I told him. I was concerned for Maddie and you.”
“I know that.” She picked at a thread knot on the tablecloth. “Do you still want him to come back?”
I struggled with what to say. I had to be honest with Mel, but I didn’t want to say the wrong words and hurt her. But I took too long. Mel stood up and walked away.
“Mel.”
“Hang on.”
She returned to the table with a slab of fudge. She unwrapped the waxed paper. “Cooked this late last night. Had trouble sleeping, and it seemed a good thing to do.” She pushed a sharp knife through the chocolate goodness. She put a hefty chunk on a napkin and slid it over to me before slicing her own. I waited as she fixed us each a cup of coffee.
