by Beth Andrews
Maeve lost track of the discussion after that, which thankfully took on a life of its own.
What was he doing here?
Aaron kept giving her odd looks throughout the course of the discussion and she studiously tried to avoid looking at him.
She busied herself after the meeting, trying to avoid Aaron. It wasn’t all that hard, since everyone was mingling over the cookies and punch she had put out.
Mattie waved her over, which was fine since Aaron was across the room sitting with Josie.
“Hey, what’s up?” Maeve asked. “Did you see Sophie today?”
“I did. She’s doing well, and so is the baby. I know I might be biased, but Ben is one of the most beautiful babies I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t think boys are supposed to be beautiful,” Maeve teased.
“Don’t tell Colton, but this one definitely is.” She laughed and then turned serious. “Are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Maeve said and realized her response was exactly what Josie was talking about. Her first instinct was to leave it at that, but she forced herself to add, “Sorry. That’s not quite accurate. I’m okay, but I’m not sure how to act around Aaron.” There. She’d made a personal remark and was still standing.
“Yeah, the kiss and the subsequent fight have been making the rounds.” Mattie grinned. “It’s not every day you are the focus of the Valley Ridge gossip mill.”
Maeve groaned. “It’s worse than Twitter.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened, what he did to upset you?” Mattie asked. It was a genuine offer based on concern, not some need to gossip.
Maeve actually kind of did want to talk, but she still hesitated. “Thanks, not right now.”
“Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, would you like me to take care of him for you? I grew up with Ray and Rich, and the kids have been giving me a refresher course in wrestling. Aaron might be big, but I could take him out if you wanted.”
Maeve smiled, which she knew had been Mattie’s intent. “No, it’s fine. I feel awkward. I don’t tend to go around kissing men, and I don’t know what the protocol is after.”
“There’s no right or wrong, Maeve.” Mattie paused, and then said, “But it’s not easy feeling as if everyone’s watching you. I think the entire town was placing bets on when I’d pack up and leave.”
“I never thought you would.” Maeve grew up watching Mattie and her best friend Bridget. They took friendship to a level closer to sisterhood. When Bridget got sick, Maeve had known with utter certainty that Mattie would come back. And when Bridget passed away, she hadn’t been surprised that Mattie stayed to take care of her kids.
Mattie took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You were one of the few. But you’ve got to ignore the gossip and everyone’s advice. You need to follow your gut. If you really don’t think things with Aaron will work, don’t let anyone try to talk you into fixing them.”
Maeve thought Mattie was done, but she added, “There’s a saying. A friend knows where the body’s buried. A good friend helps you dig the hole. You’re a good friend, Maeve. If he gives you problems, remember, you have friends who will help dig the hole if you need us to.”
Maeve laughed. “I doubt it will come to that, but thank you.”
If she’d told Mattie she was okay, Mattie would have let it go at that. But because she’d opened up Mattie had offered to help bury someone. Maeve was definitely feeling a warm glow at the offer.
“Not to change the subject,” Mattie said, “but Josie and Boyd don’t know what’s going on with the house still?”
“I don’t think they have a clue. I’m not sure that they’ll stay or that they’ll even want the place, but if it’s not for them, then someone else will take it. Aaron’s helping me with the paperwork so we can turn this into an official foundation. Something we can do every year. I like the idea of it being a Valley Ridge Christmas tradition.”
“Finn and I will be at the Culpepper place on Saturday, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to do some outdoor work. I know the porch was fixed, and they put new shingles on the roof. But all those trees need pruning.”
“You can work wherever you want.”
“Are you going to ask why?” Mattie asked.
“Do you want me to?”
Mattie nodded.
“Why do you want to prune trees, Mattie?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Maeve started to hug her, but Mattie whispered, “Be cool. We’re not telling anyone about Jack for a few more weeks, but if I didn’t tell someone, I’d explode. And I didn’t want you to think I was slacking, but there are all those paint fumes inside, and I don’t want to take a chance.”
“Jack?” Maeve asked.
“That’s what Finn and I are calling the baby. It works for a boy or a girl. Jackson. Jacqueline. Either way, it’s going to be Jack. We like how androgynous it is.”
“Of course you do.” Maeve grinned. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you and Finn. We’ve all known from the moment Finn started spending so much time in town that you’re such a perfect couple—”
Mattie snorted. “Definitely not perfect. He was spending time in town because he was suing me for custody.”
Maeve liked to complain about how quickly news spread in Valley Ridge, but this particular piece of news had never reached her. “Pardon?”
“Don’t say anything, please. But he was. And we spent time together for the kids’ sake, and gradually, so gradually I hardly noticed it was happening, I fell in love with him.”
Maeve didn’t know what to say to that.
“Listen, love isn’t always like tonight’s stories. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s unexpected. Sometimes it’s easy. No matter how it comes about, it’s worth fighting for. Thanks for letting me tell you about the baby.”
“Thanks for trusting me. I won’t tell anyone about Jack until you do.”
Mattie nodded. “Now, why don’t you send me a list of things you still need at the house. I’ll remind folks at the coffee shop.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that, Mattie.”
“Maeve, you’ve done so much for the community. We were all talking about it the other night. You’ve got such a vision for the town. Sebastian was saying that he wants to get your advice on what other things need to be done. But before you get any more involved, you should let others help more. Lead the way, and we’ll follow. You don’t have to thank me, or any of us for that. You’re the one we should all thank.”
Maeve felt heat rising in her cheeks. One of the big problems with being a redhead with a fair complexion was that she blushed easily.
Mattie laughed. “You’re awesome. We all think so.”
“I—”
Mattie interrupted, “My mother always says, when someone offers you a compliment, just say thank-you.”
Maeve laughed. “Thank you. But you’re—”
“Stop at the thank-you, Maeve.”
Aaron came up and joined them. “Can we talk a moment?”
He looked tired, but she refused to worry about him. “After the book club,” she said. Mattie glared at Aaron.
“Don’t forget my offer, Maeve,” she said, before she stalked off.
“Her offer?” he asked.
Maeve wasn’t about to tell him about the body. “Mattie asked me to make a list of what we need for the Culpepper place. She’ll keep it at the coffee shop. She’s coming with Finn this weekend to help.”
She turned and went back to the group and concentrated on giving Aaron a wide berth. As the meeting wound down, ex-Mayor Tuznik was one of the last to leave. He came up and whispered, “Go easy on the boy. I’m not asking what happened, but he’s obviously on the losing end of thi
ngs. He was snubbed all night.”
“I didn’t ask... I don’t want...”
He gave her a hug. “I know. But that’s how things go in Valley Ridge. You’re ours. He’s an outsider. You win, no questions asked.”
She thought about Mattie’s mom’s advice and said, “Well, thank you. But could you spread the word that he didn’t do anything that warrants a snubbing?”
The former mayor nodded and winked.
Maeve looked around the room and realized that she and Aaron were the only people left. He was already stacking chairs. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.”
“Listen, I won’t keep you. I know you’ve had a long day... I just wanted to say, I signed the papers.”
“How long had you had them?” She concentrated on adding another chair to her stack rather than look at Aaron.
“Awhile,” he admitted. “I don’t want you to think it was a rebound kiss. My wife...my ex and I have been separated for two years.”
“That you’ve been separated that long should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. There must still be something there between the two of you if you’ve had the divorce papers for a while.”
He paused a moment, then nodded. “Anger, mostly.”
She looked up from the chairs. He did look tired. Exhausted, even. “Listen, Aaron, you were right. I have been holding back. But I talked to Josie last night. Really opened up. And tonight, when Mattie asked about our fight, rather than give her a short answer designed to stop the conversation, I talked to her.” And Mattie had told her about Jack in return. “So, I owe you a thank-you for that insight. I don’t think I’ll ever be someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, but I’m going to try to change.”
“I’m glad. You may even be surprised, you know. There are a lot of people who really care for you.”
She thought of the former mayor’s comments. “You’re right about that, too. But, Aaron, even if you’ve signed the papers, even if it’s been two years since you’ve separated, you’re not ready to... I was going to say date, but that’s not really what we were doing. So, whatever you call what was growing between us, you’re not ready for it. You can’t move on until you let go of the past. And I value myself too much to be with someone like that.”
He seemed to consider that. “You might be right. I’ve been mad at Tracey for a long time. I probably do need to figure out a way to let that go. But I don’t think I’m the only one holding on to old baggage. In your case, you have to get out of the car you and your mom lived in and start letting other people in.”
Maeve nodded. “I think it would be best if we went back to being friends. We’ll work on the Culpepper place together and that’s it. It was one kiss, Aaron. No more, no less.”
“Maybe it was only a kiss, but I think there’s a chance it could be more. I care about you, too, Maeve. You live with the motto, I can’t save the world, but I can try. Well, you’ve changed me. Likely in ways I haven’t even realized yet, but I know I’m different because I met you.”
“We barely know each other.” She shook her head. “You don’t understand me, remember?”
“I’m beginning to. And whether I understand you or not, you have affected me. You know, I had never read a romance until the book club. Some of those characters had huge obstacles in their way. I think the thing standing between us is letting go of the past.”
“I guess it doesn’t sound as big as some problems, but maybe it’s bigger.” She thought about the three new Valley Ridge couples. They’d all had obstacles to overcome, but they overcame them. Heck, Mattie said Finn had sued her for custody. That was major. Yet they’d gotten past it.
But she wasn’t sure that would hold true for her and Aaron. “Our past makes us. It forms us. I don’t know how to let mine go without changing myself. I don’t think you do, either.”
“Like I said, you’ve already changed me.”
She frowned. “Seriously, you should stick to the general fiction book club because that sounded really schmaltzy.”
He looked rueful. “Maybe. But I know that I’ll never read a book again and not think about you and your leather-bound copy of The Hobbit. I’ll never hear a bell ring and not think of angels getting their wings. You’re a part of me now. I know that you might not have intended it, but no matter what, I’ll be taking a piece of you with me when I move back to Florida.”
* * *
AS THE WORDS came out of his mouth, Aaron realized that he hadn’t say when I move back home.
When he moved back to Florida.
Since he’d come to Valley Ridge, he’d been fantasizing about his lanai. About working outside in the warm Florida sun. He had the perfect lounge chair. It faced north, so the sun was never in his eyes. He looked out at the pool and the trees that lined the back of his lot. He’d lean back and prop his laptop on his thighs. He had a small table on his left where he could set a drink.
“I’ll think about what you’ve said,” he told Maeve. He realized he’d made at least one decision, so he added, “I might be out of touch for a few days. But I’ll see you Saturday at the house, if not before.”
“It would probably be best if we didn’t see each other until then. I’ve got work and the library. You’ve got your work. You can’t let things slide at Valley Ridge Farm and House Supplies.” She paused. “You know, that is the most cumbersome name for a business, ever.”
“I’ve said as much myself. I keep telling my uncle that he needs to come up with something shorter. Catchier.”
“Something like VR Supplies,” she suggested.
It had been an option he’d thought of. “Yeah, something like. I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Right. See you then.”
He started to walk away, but turned around and said, “Maeve, this discussion’s not over.”
“Unfortunately, it is, Aaron.”
He left the library and headed for his uncle’s. A steady snow was falling.
He watched the flakes under the streetlights. And as he looked up, he saw a full moon shining through a bank of fluffy clouds.
It was beautiful.
Cold, to be sure. Different from Florida. But beautiful.
Maeve was right. Signing the divorce papers wasn’t enough.
He’d heard people talk about closure. He’d never had that. One day, Tracey had simply been gone.
He should take her the signed papers and talk to her. They hadn’t done much talking. Their lawyers had talked a lot.
Maybe that’s what hurt the most. She hadn’t talked to him. Instead, she’d sent her lawyer in to talk to his lawyer.
He’d sold his patent for the technology he’d created and all that money had barely hit their account before she was gone and asking for half.
He’d been so mad. Only fights, recriminations and accusations followed. But no discussion. No closure.
He needed to be in Valley Ridge on Saturday to work on the house, but there was no reason he couldn’t go see Tracey before then.
Maybe if he figured out what went wrong between them, he’d be able to move on.
* * *
IT SEEMED AS if one minute Aaron was in snowy Valley Ridge, thinking about finally having a conversation with Tracey, and the next he was in sunny Florida, sitting in a cab.
The temperature was in the upper sixties, and the driver spent the entire ride complaining about the cold.
Aaron almost laughed in his face. This wasn’t cold. This was balmy. This was shorts and flip-flop weather.
But he didn’t say that. He sat in silence as the cabbie groused and took him to Tracey’s.
He got out of the cab, suitcase in one hand and clutching the envelope with the divorce papers in the other.
He studied the white stucco house that backed up to a dock on on
e of the myriad of channels that led to the ocean.
He remembered the first time he’d seen Tracey. They were in high school. He was a nerd. He didn’t wear glasses, and he had younger sisters who made sure he dressed well, but at heart, he was a nerd. He was way more comfortable playing computer games in the basement than talking to girls.
Not that he didn’t notice girls.
He did.
But despite his sisters’ best efforts, they hadn’t noticed him.
Until a Monday morning, midway through his sophomore year when the teacher introduced a new student. Tracey and her family had just moved into the district.
His first bit of luck was that she was new to school and hadn’t grown up knowing he was a nerd.
His second bit of luck was that she was assigned a seat by him in three classes, one of which was math. He’d been asked to see to it she was caught up.
His third bit of luck was that his last name was Holder and her last name was Holt. They were frequently thrown together when the teacher assigned seats or partners alphabetically.
They became friends.
And by the end of his sophomore year, they were a couple.
“I see you out there,” Tracey called from the front door of the house. “You might as well come in.”
He wheeled his suitcase behind him and walked up the brick walkway to her front door. “It’s good to see you, Aaron.” Tracey looked like a Viking. She was tall, pale and very blonde. And unlike the last time he’d seen her, she was smiling at him. He realized it had been a long time since he’d seen her smile.
“It’s good to see you, too.” He said the words by rote, but the second they were out of his mouth, he realized that he meant them. It was good to see her.
Tracey Holder—no, she’d gone back to her maiden name—Tracey Holt, didn’t look a day older than that Monday his sophomore year when she’d walked into his classroom.
“You haven’t changed,” he said. Her blond hair was still in an untidy ponytail, as if she couldn’t be bothered to do anything else with it. Her jeans had holes in them and she wore a bulky sweatshirt. But it was her eyes that had always drawn him. They were bright blue and honest as she assessed him.
