by Beth Andrews
“I don’t know what he did to you last night, but he’d better fix it, or else.”
Maeve took the girl by her shoulders and said, “Tori, you know that I love our friendship, but, honey, I’m a grown-up and I can fight my own battles. When there is a battle. And I’m not saying there is a battle.”
“But he...” Tori must have seen something in Maeve’s look, because she sighed. “Fine.”
“No more kicking. I’d think I’d have to warn Abbey or Mica that kicking isn’t a good option, not you.”
Tori looked at some indistinct point on the floor. “Fine.”
“Your mom and dad are looking for you.”
“They probably want to go see Sophie and Ben before we leave for Ohio.” She threw her arms around Maeve.
He saw Maeve hesitate a moment, then hug the girl back.
“We’re coming back down next week.” Tori shot him a look over Maeve’s shoulder and he knew that her comment had been meant for him. A reminder that she’d be back and she expected him to fix things with Maeve before then.
“Great. I’ll see you then.” Tori ran back inside and Maeve remained standing next to the Dumpster. She didn’t have a coat on, either. What was it with Northern women? He’d put a coat on before braving the walk from the house to the Dumpster. He thought about mentioning it, but after Tori’s reaction, he decided not to.
“So, rough morning?” she asked. She didn’t seem annoyed, but rather, concerned.
“A lot of people turned out to help,” he said, avoiding her question.
She tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. “And most of them have had words for you?”
“I wasn’t sure you even noticed I was here.”
She sighed. “I did. How could I not? But I’d hoped to avoid more gossip by avoiding you.”
“Yeah, that’s not working so well,” he admitted.
“I can see that.”
“You’ve got a lot of friends in town.”
She shrugged, and he wasn’t sure she really understood how important she was to the community. “Half the town came to tell me to fix things with you, the other half warned me that if I hurt you, they’d take care of me.”
“No one’s going to hurt you,” Maeve said. “But no matter how much you want, you can’t fix the fact that you’re married and you kissed me.”
He wasn’t sure how to explain himself to her, mainly because even after two years, he didn’t understand what had happened to his marriage. Why it had fallen apart. “It’s not like that. I’m one signature away from being divorced.”
“And how soon will that signature come?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It’s...”
“Complicated, I’m sure. Divorcing someone normally is, not that I’ve had personal experience, but how could it not be? That being said, I don’t kiss married men. Even if they’re only one signature away.”
“I know. I don’t, either. Not kiss married men, but get involved with someone else while I’m technically still married. I don’t... I’ve never...”
“Listen, Aaron, you obviously have things you need to work out. Let’s just say we’re friends. We’ll work together on this house, and on starting the foundation. Spring will arrive, your uncle will come back and you’ll leave.” She shot him a look of sympathy.
He’d have preferred her anger. “You’d like that, right?”
“What?”
“If that’s how it went down. If I agreed to be friendly with you until I leave. You know, you didn’t even ask me about the married part. About the circumstances. Don’t you want know?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t need to know the circumstances because they don’t matter. You’re married. Period.”
“The details do matter. They really do. I agree with you, you know—married is married. But I’ve been separated from my wife for two years. I have our final divorce papers sitting on the desk right now. She’s already signed them. So I meant what I said, I am one signature away from being divorced.”
“But the fact is, you haven’t signed them and you’re still married.”
“Black-and-white,” he said. “That’s how you’re going to see this.”
“There are no grays with marriage,” she said primly. “You’re either married, or you’re not.”
“Maeve, I made this so easy on you. You can push me away and not even try to find some excuse to hide behind.”
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“You are the loneliest person I’ve ever met.”
“Are you kidding? I’m surrounded by people all day. At the winery. The library. Now here.” She pointed back at the very full house. “How can I be lonely?”
“Because while you might be surrounded by people, you don’t let any of them in. How many people in town know you were homeless?”
She shrugged. “A few.”
“How many?”
“My mom, Herm, Hank, you...” She paused, looking as if she was struggling to come up with another name. “My principal. Mrs. Anderson knew.”
Aaron shook his head. “You hold yourself apart. You don’t share, and because you don’t, other people who like you very much, stay half a step back. Sharing is a two way street.”
“Wow, for a man who’s been on the verge of divorcing for two years, you have a lot of wise observations. If you have those papers on your desk, why haven’t you signed them? Maybe you’re saying I keep myself apart because so do you. Like recognizes like. There’s an old saying about a man seeing a pebble in another’s eye and never noticing the boulder in his own. I’m not pointing fingers, but, Aaron, don’t blink too hard.”
“I think it was a log, not a pebble. Maybe a plank?” Picking on her word choice was easier than acknowledging she was right.
She shrugged. “Fine. Log. Boulder. Whatever. You’ve got issues, too, Aaron.”
“And what will you do if I deal with those issues? If I sign the papers and I’m officially divorced. What will you do then?”
“There’s more to it than just signing the papers, isn’t there? And I don’t know that you can move forward until you look backward and figure out what went wrong. I think my plan is a wise one. Let’s be friends.”
She was the most infuriating woman he’d ever met. The loneliest woman he’d ever met. And every part of him wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her again. But he wouldn’t because she was right; he wasn’t free to do so. So, he’d help her renovate the house because it mattered to her. And the fact that it mattered to her made it matter to him.
He wanted to please her.
Maybe that’s what had been missing in his marriage. He’d cared about his work more than he’d cared about his wife and what mattered to her. And for the first time in two years, he didn’t feel as angry when he thought about his failed marriage, he felt guilty.
Aaron realized he had a lot of thinking to do. He looked at Maeve and smiled. “Then as your friend, I’ll heed your advice and try and deal with my baggage. Maybe you should consider doing the same.”
“But—”
He turned and walked away from her because if he didn’t, good intentions or not, he was going to kiss her again.
* * *
IT WAS AFTER nine before the last person left the Culpepper house. Maeve wasn’t sure she could face going into her quiet house. The light was on again at Josie’s. She didn’t know she’d made a decision until she was at the door knocking softly.
A moment later, Josie opened the door.
“I’m sorry. It’s late. I saw the light, but obviously...I shouldn’t be here.” She started to turn around and head home.
“Don’t be silly. Come in,” Josie said. “Boyd and Carl are both down for the count. I was sitting out here, definitely not sleeping. I co
uld use the distraction. I think the baby has more than bruised my ribs. I think they’ve actually cracked.”
Josie patted the couch for a second time that day and asked, “So, what’s wrong?”
Maeve wasn’t sure why she was there. She wasn’t the type to complain to a friend. She felt awkward and uncomfortable. “Really, I shouldn’t have come. You’ve got enough on your plate without me whining—”
“Maeve, you are the least whiny person I’ve ever met, and I never have so much on my plate that I can’t listen to a friend,” Josie said. “What is it?”
Maeve thought about what Aaron had said, and before she could second-guess herself, she said, “I was homeless, too. When I was in school. My father died, we lost the farm and Mom and I lived in the car for weeks. Then Hank found out and gave us the apartment behind his house. The one Lily lived in, and her mom lives in now. Hank gave Mom a job at the diner. That’s where she met Herm. But we lost everything, and then Hank helped us and we bounced back.” Maeve didn’t know what to say after her confession. She settled on, “I wanted you to know I get what you’re going through, and that’s why I helped you.”
“Okay, but I’d bet that even if you’d never been homeless, you’d still have helped us. That’s not what’s been eating at you. Tell me. What’s going on?”
“Aaron says I’m the loneliest person he’s ever met.” She wished she were Tori’s age and he was there because she’d kick him in the shins, as well. The mental image was enough to make her relax a little. “I laughed and said I’m surrounded by people all day, but he told me that didn’t matter.”
“Maeve, we’re friends, right?” Josie asked. “I mean, I know we haven’t known each other a long time, but we’re friends. When I leave, we’ll talk on the phone, and visit. Because we’re friends. That’s why you’re here, right?”
Maeve nodded.
“Then I’m going to speak to you like a friend. Like I’d talk to a sister if I had one. Aaron’s right. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but there it is. I haven’t been here long, but I’ve got nothing to do all day but watch and observe. You are surrounded every day by people. People who care about you. People you care about. People you hold at arm’s length. And if you hold them at arm’s length, they can’t really get to know you...and you can’t really get to know them, either.”
“I’m here talking to you,” Maeve said.
Josie nodded. “I think that’s because I’m safe. Boyd and I will be leaving. You and I, we can make a connection, but you know there’s an expiration date. We’ll keep in touch, but I won’t get too close. I won’t make you uncomfortable.”
Maeve flopped back on the couch. “So, what you’re saying is I’m hopeless.”
“No, what I’m saying is, now that you’re aware of the problem, change. Let other people in. And I’m not just talking about letting them help you with the library and stuff. I mean, really let them in.”
“I tried to avoid Aaron today, but he caught up with me. He tried to explain the kiss and his being married.”
Josie went from looking friendly and considerate to looking downright dangerous. “It better be good,” she muttered.
“It’s been two years, he said. He said the divorce papers are on his desk and he only has to sign his name, and then he won’t be married anymore. But he hasn’t done it. They’re on his desk, but he hasn’t signed them.”
Josie looked considerably happier. She gave a little sigh. “We’ll that’s not quite as bad as I was thinking. I liked him, and I didn’t like thinking that he was less of a man than I’d thought. But I wouldn’t kiss him again until he’s signed the papers.”
“I’m not kissing him again, period,” Maeve stated with utter certainty.
She waited, expecting another lecture from Josie, but instead of a lecture, Josie asked, “Did I ever tell you about the first time Boyd and I kissed?” She wore a small smile that said the memory was a sweet one.
“No, you didn’t.”
“It was when we were in kindergarten. He came up to me one day and said I smelled like oranges, then kissed me on the cheek. I slugged him and we both got sent to time-out. He steered clear of me for a long time after that, and I had to wait until high school until he kissed me again. Well, frankly, I kissed him.”
“Your point is?” Maeve asked.
“I don’t think it’s going to be nearly that long until Aaron kisses you again.” Josie was grinning.
Before Maeve could come up with some sort of retort, the door at the back of the RV opened and Boyd came out wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a football T-shirt. He looked so much younger, sleep tousled and worried. “I heard voices. Is everything okay, honey? Is it the baby?”
“The baby’s fine. Everything is fine, honey. Maeve’s keeping me company. You can go back to sleep.”
“Thanks, Maeve. ’Night.” He waved and stumbled back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Josie stared at the door, and then turned back to Maeve. “Normally, you could drive a semi next to the bed and Boyd wouldn’t wake up. He must be sleeping lighter because of the baby. He’s still worried about me. I tell him that each day brings us a day closer. Dr. Marshall said everything is looking good.”
“It’ll be soon.”
Josie rubbed her stomach. “I’d say not soon enough, but I’m really hoping the baby waits a bit longer. Boyd’s got work tomorrow at Aaron’s. That’s thanks to you.”
“No, that’s thanks to Aaron.” There were so many things about Aaron she liked. The fact that he’d found work for Boyd was one of them. The time he was spending working on the house, and the fact that he’d donated it to her foundation—she liked that, too.
But he was married, she reminded herself. Until he signed those papers, he was married.
As if she was reading Maeve’s mind, Josie said, “You came here because we’re friends and you want my honest advice, right?”
Maeve wasn’t sure she wanted anyone’s advice, but she found herself saying, “Yes.”
“As soon as Aaron’s signed those papers, kiss him again. Kiss him and don’t stop kissing him.” She paused and added, “And I suspect he’ll be signing them soon.”
“I don’t know.”
“My mom used to say, in for a penny, in for a pound, so I’ve got one more piece of advice,” Josie said. “Let other people in, Maeve. When Boyd and I leave, let someone else get close to you. You’re surrounded by people who care—people who are just waiting for you to take a step in their direction. Just take that step, Maeve.”
She thought about Gabriel’s comment the other day, about her not saying much about her personal life. Then Aaron. Now Josie. There had to be some truth in what they were saying. “I’ll try.”
“So, I finished that romance novel for the book club tomorrow,” Josie said. “Maybe that’s what you need?”
“I already finished the book. It was a good one.”
“No, I didn’t mean the book, at least not specifically. And yes it was good. What I’m talking about is the romance aspect of it. You need a good romance.”
Maeve groaned. “You and Tori.”
“Tori and I are right. When Aaron’s signed the papers, kiss him.” Josie went on, talking about the book, about the baby, about Boyd’s job. And Maeve made a conscious effort to share. To not hold back.
And she realized that as she sat talking with Josie into the wee hours of the night, she didn’t feel the least bit lonely.
CHAPTER TEN
MAEVE SURVEYED THE library on Monday night. The romance book club had drawn another good crowd. Winters were long and cold on the shores of Lake Erie, so all of the winter book clubs were usually well attended. People were looking for places to go and things to do.
Lily wasn’t there because she was on her honeymoon, and So
phie was at home with baby Ben. But Josie had come again—under strict orders from Boyd not to move from the couch. He’d assured them all that he and Carl had important boy things to do.
Josie smiled indulgently. “And by boy things, he means they’re going to watch the train in the Quarter’s window for a while, and then they’re going home to watch football. Boyd is trying to teach Carl to like watching sports because he’s created a majority-rules rule for the television. He’s hoping this new baby is a boy so that I’ll be even more outnumbered, but he assures me even if it is a girl, he’s going to brainwash her, too.” Josie heaved an exaggerated sigh, but Maeve could tell she was okay with the idea of being outnumbered.
Mattie was there, plus about fifteen other people. They had all read The Secret Santa Club, which combined the holiday and a handful of short romances.
“I liked the idea of turning the term Secret Santa into a verb. Secret-Santaing people,” Josie said when the meeting got rolling. “And I liked that all the short stories were different. Sometimes the lead characters were the recipients, sometimes the giver.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of it, but I liked that Secret-Santaing became a verb, too,” Maeve put in.
Josie was on a roll. “I liked that the recipient wasn’t always in financial need. I mean, that’s a big thing. But sometimes the people most in need don’t need money, or things. They need love. They need to feel as if people care. Sometimes they have to learn to open themselves up to what’s all around them and let people in.” She eyed Maeve.
Maeve got her point and rolled her eyes at Josie, who grinned. She’d been thinking about what her friends had said and had come to the conclusion that they were right. She’d tried to figure out why she cut herself off. It had started after she’d lost both her father and her home. She’d been so afraid that people would pity her that she’d kept her homelessness a secret. She’d stayed a bit removed from others. After a while, it became her standard.
“I agree,” a voice said from behind her. “Some people need to open themselves up and see who’s around them, waiting to be let in.”
Maeve didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Aaron pulled a chair over beside Mayor Tuznik and announced, “Us guys need to stick together.”
