by Susan Wiggs
Nina, he thought. The hell with Nina. The hell with anyone who would tell Daisy to go off on her own. He should not even be thinking of Nina at a time like this, but for some reason, she stayed on his mind. She’d looked so happy and breathless at the wedding, moments before he ripped into her. She’d been dewy-eyed, wearing an expression he’d seen on her face only rarely, like when they’d been making love. Why couldn’t she be that woman? His lover, his confidante. Not someone who would encourage his daughter to leave home.
But then…Greg pictured her smile. The way she got so excited about things. Her open manner with everyone she met. Her quick temper, quicker laughter and her swift, honest passion for the things she did…for him.
“I’m happy for you, Dad.” Daisy’s face glowed as though she was in possession of some kind of mystical feminine wisdom. “Really. I think you and Nina are great together. I can tell you’re crazy about each other, and I just feel like this is different, you know. I love seeing you with her. She brings you alive, Dad, really.”
Oh. Well, shit.
“What’s that look, Dad?”
“I, um, I kind of broke up with her at the wedding reception.”
“Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you did not do this incredibly stupid thing.”
“I did this incredibly stupid thing.”
“Then go undo it, Dad. Hurry.”
Twenty-Eight
L ate at night, Nina stood on the dock of the Inn at Willow Lake, maybe for the last time. She was bidding farewell to a long-held dream, but more than that, to something infinitely richer and deeper. To the love she’d found with Greg. She suspected his “you’re fired” was blurted out in haste. But Nina didn’t actually need to hear the words. She knew she had made the decision in her heart before she consciously thought it—I can’t stay here.
It was hard on every single level to say goodbye. But the Inn at Willow Lake was just a place, she reminded herself. A place she’d dreamed about, a place she’d lived and worked at for a while. Now it was time to move on, taking her dreams with her. She hoped she would always remember the sound of the loons on the lake, the glassy path of the full moon on the water, the stirring of the breeze through the maples and the gentle ripples across the surface.
It was a beautiful summer night, the kind of night that closed around you and made you feel safe, but she didn’t feel that now. She walked out to the very end of the dock, her heart full of nostalgia. It was as though her tethers had been cut. She was flying free, aimlessly, with no thought as to where she would land. Maybe that was a good thing, but it didn’t feel so good. She felt overwhelmed and…damaged somehow, as if a part of her had been ripped away, not by the thought of leaving this place, but by the thought of leaving Greg Bellamy.
How crazy was that, to fall in love with him? She’d spent the whole summer talking herself out of it, and in the end, her heart had pulled her in over her head anyway. Love. It was something she thought she knew. She loved her family, her friends. She loved her daughter with a depth and commitment that had no end. But this was something wholly different, heady and consuming, yet…fragile. Uncertain. Why had she let herself believe loving Greg could be enough to hold them together?
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there when she heard someone behind her. One of the guests? No, it was—
“Nina.” Greg walked toward her. She recognized his voice and his easy, loose-limbed gait. The moonlight outlined his form in precise detail. The silvery glow cast everything in shades of gray, as though they were images from an old movie.
She felt her heart speed up. Just the sight of him, even now, made her happy. Yet at the same time, she was on the verge of tears. Stop it, she told herself. Not now. She cleared her throat and asked him, “How’s Daisy?”
“She’s great. The baby’s great, too.” He seemed to have come fresh from the shower, she noticed, in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts, his hair damp and fragrant. “She named him Emile. It’s French.”
“I know.”
“Don’t ask me why she picked it. His middle name’s Charles, after my dad.”
“That’s good.” She silently begged him to stop telling her about his life; she had to learn not to care about these things. “And how are you?”
“Relieved. Happy. Completely freaked. I have a grandson, for chrissakes.”
“Congratulations, Greg. It’s going to be wonderful for all of you. I just know it.”
A long, tense silence stretched out between them, and suddenly she was yearning for the inane chitchat. She tried not to think about the fact that she knew so much about this man, and she’d given him so much of herself. She had opened the door to her heart and let him in where she’d never let anyone else, ever. She didn’t want to regret that. She hoped she never would.
“Nina—”
“Greg—”
They both spoke at once. All right, she told herself. Deep breath. Get it over with, like ripping a Band-Aid off a wound. “I’ve been trying to think about where I’m going next.”
“Don’t go anywhere. I didn’t mean what I said. I was a complete ass. I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry. Such sweet, simple words. They came from the heart and she believed him completely. But she also believed that whatever they had together was tenuous. When it came to intimacy, her track record was almost non-existent, and she had to believe there was a reason for that. “I’m not mad, Greg, but I do have to go. We don’t need to talk about it. It’s just something that needs to happen.” She refused to say I told you so, but hadn’t she? Hadn’t she said that if they got involved and it didn’t go well, their troubles would interfere with their work at the inn?
“You’re not leaving,” he said.
“I am. Let’s not argue about it.”
“Okay, we won’t argue. There’s something I want to be sure you understand, though. The things I said at the wedding reception…I spoke out of panic and fear and anger that didn’t have anything to do with you.”
“I realize that. The things you said were still pretty cruel.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I was freaking out and pissed and none of it was about you.”
God forbid that she should mistake her own importance to him. “Greg, what is it you’re trying to say?”
“You can’t leave. You love this place. You belong here.”
She felt hollowed out by hurt. She wanted to hear that she belonged with him. She wanted to feel that, to know it beyond a doubt. “That doesn’t matter,” she said.
“Hell, yes, it matters. If it doesn’t matter, then I don’t know what does.”
A terrible silence, weighted by doubts, stretched out between them. She could hear the water lapping at the pilings of the dock, the soughing of the wind through the trees. Then he made a tortured, wordless sound and pulled her into his arms. She resisted, but then something made her melt and she lifted her face to his. Make me believe, she thought.
He kissed her then, and it was a kiss of possession and searing honesty that left her breathless and stunned. It made her remember the ways he’d touched her, the times they’d laughed together and the times they’d lain quiet, listening to the night. When he came up for air, he said, “That’s pretty much what I’ve been trying to say, only I’m not so good with words.”
For a fleeting moment, a heartbeat of hope, she soared. Then she remembered all the roadblocks in their way. “It’s not about words,” she managed to say in a broken whisper, trying to pull away from him. “It’s about the fact that we’re in such different places in our lives.”
“Damn, Nina, you’ve spent the whole summer dwelling on all the reasons we can’t be together. All the reasons things won’t work out for us. And while you were doing that, everything was working out. Except for yesterday. I said I was sorry but you’ve got no reason to believe that. Stay, Nina. Just…stay, and I’ll make you believe. I swear I will.”
She looked up at him, and wondered how he’d guessed at her thoughts. Mak
e me believe. Slowly but undeniably, the hollowed-out place inside her began to fill. This was his great strength, the thing she could never resist. He had an uncanny ability to jump back into love and commitment even after a failed marriage and painful divorce. He wasn’t afraid of relationships, not the way Nina was. She needed his courage when it came to matters of the heart. She needed him. The summer had been amazing, she conceded, and full of surprises. This was nothing new to Nina. Things never seemed to turn out the way she expected. This appeared to be the way life had always revealed itself to her.
She looked at him and thought, they turned out better. She’d wanted the inn; instead she found herself with a partner. She’d wanted her independence, and she’d fallen head-over-heels for Greg and his kids. Throughout the autumn and winter, Nina and Greg had grown closer with each passing day. She wasn’t afraid of this relationship anymore, and she no longer worried about the complications in his life.
She took a deep breath and said, “I’ve lived in the same town my whole life. I was thinking, tonight, that maybe I need to live a different life, do something else.”
“You’ve done plenty, Nina. But I can think of something you haven’t done.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You’ve never been in love. Remember? You told me that, a long time ago.”
“It’s not true anymore.” She blurted it out, just like that. The words were out there, not the way she’d planned to tell him, but she couldn’t snatch them back. Nor did she want to. Starting over didn’t mean she would struggle as she had before. This new beginning was a joyful one.
He didn’t even look surprised. “It’s about time you said something. I’ve been waiting.”
“You knew?”
At that, he laughed. Laughed. “You’re not exactly a poker face.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“I won’t lie to you. I was married for a long time.” He grinned. “We can’t all be virgins, you know.”
“Very funny.”
“Nina. I said I was married for a long time. And clearly, it ended badly. For a while, I lost any faith I might have had in my ability to trust anybody. Including myself. Including my own feelings.”
“Which are?” She knew asking the question was a risk, but she had to find out what he was thinking.
“What I’m saying is, you can’t go through something like that and not learn anything. I know what love is. And what it isn’t.” He held her close, tenderly now, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I know I’m just completely in love with you. I plan on staying that way for good, so get used to it.”
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she let it out on a long wave of relief. It was enough, she realized. It was everything.
Epilogue
N ina heard the thud of a trunk lid slamming shut. She saw Greg’s shoulders stiffen, as though he was bracing himself for a blow. They were in the foyer of his house, bracing themselves to say goodbye to Daisy.
Outside, the exhaust from Daisy’s idling car plumed into the overcast sky of the wintry afternoon. Early twilight was coming on, and a cold quiet settled over the landscape. Greg had spent half the day checking and re-checking the car to make sure it was winterized, the tires checked, the windows scraped, everything in working order, as though his daughter was about to make a cross-country trek rather than a drive to the other side of the river, to a small house of her own on the road to New Paltz.
It wasn’t the distance, though. Nina understood that. It was the fact that Daisy was leaving Greg’s house, a transition far more wrenching and complicated than a mere change of venue. She’d lived at home for five months after the baby was born, but now she was eager to move on to her new life. She had spent the past hour loading the last of her things. The baby, thickly bundled into his carseat, was already sound asleep. In a few minutes, they would soon be on their way.
Nina studied Greg’s face, noting the tension in his jaw, and wished there was something she could say to ease his mind. They had known for a long time that Daisy was leaving. Now that the actual day had arrived, his apprehension was palpable.
Her heart squeezed in sympathy for him. Loving someone meant more than hearts and flowers. Sometimes it meant hurting when he hurt. There had been a time when she’d been afraid of this, afraid of the complications in his life. She wasn’t afraid now. She zipped up her parka and went to the door with him.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “You know that, don’t you?”
He pulled her in close, kissed her temple. “Yeah. I do.”
“She’s got everything she needs from you,” Nina told him, thinking of Sonnet, so far away at college. Nina had given herself the same advice, every time her stomach clenched with worry and her heart ached with missing her daughter.
He took her hand, and they stepped out into the cold afternoon to tell Daisy goodbye. Nina bent down and gently touched the sleeping bundle in the backseat. Emile—whom everyone called Charlie, thank God—was the center of Daisy’s world, and Nina knew he always would be.
Greg gave his daughter a long hug, cupping his hand around the back of her head, the way he’d probably done when Daisy was a little girl. “Be careful on the road,” he said.
“Always,” she promised. “Tell Max to call when he gets home from school. See you around, Daddy-O.”
“Count on it.”
And just like that, she was gone, tires crunching along the driveway. Nina and Greg watched until the car rounded the bend to the main road, leaving a vacuum of silence behind. There were no guests at the inn today; the season was at its lowest ebb, and the parking lot was empty. A few lights glowed in the boathouse above the dock, reminding her that she’d planned to spend the afternoon working at the computer.
She shivered and glanced up to find Greg watching her, a peculiar expression on his face. “You all right?” she asked him.
“I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded, turning to her and resting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so damn glad you’re here, Nina.”
She smiled, tilting her head to the side, trying to figure out what was going on with him.
“Nina,” he said, “the first time I saw you, you were just a kid, hanging around Camp Kioga. But even back then, I knew that somehow you were going to be special to me. And you were. You are. Every day I wake up more in love with you than I was the day before, and that’s not going to end for me, ever.”
She forgot to breathe. She knew where this was going, and she couldn’t even move. She hoped her mouth wasn’t hanging open in amazement. She hoped her expression was as bright with love as his.
He was endearingly anxious as he went down on one knee, his hand reaching into a pocket and bringing out a ring. His hand trembled, and he gave an unsteady laugh. “Sorry, I’m nervous. I’ve been carrying this around for days, trying to figure out the best time to ask you.”
“Now would be good,” she whispered, her breath freezing in the winter air. “Ask me now. Please.”
He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, then looked steadily up at her. “I’ve never done this before, and I don’t plan on doing it again. You’re my one shot. Nina Romano, will you marry me?”
She’d imagined this moment so many times since last summer. She’d dreamed about it, wished for it. She knew she’d be consumed by emotion when she heard the actual words, but she hadn’t realized she would be too happy to speak. So she nodded her head, and then the tears came, the tears she’d sworn she wouldn’t shed, and finally, she managed to answer. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you, Greg. I always will.”
Without taking his eyes off her, he rose to his feet and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a simple solitaire, the gold quickly warming to her flesh.
“It’s a perfect fit,” Greg said. He kissed her gently, and she could feel his lips curving into a smile. He lifted his mouth from hers and said, “Whew. That went well.�
�
She put her arms around his waist and laughed with joy. “I’d say so.” Then she stepped back and studied their joined hands, her finger now encircled with his ring, a glittering promise of their future. She wasn’t cold at all now, wrapped in happiness as she pictured them together in the boxy, old-fashioned house at the Inn at Willow Lake.
“Let’s go inside,” Greg said, taking her hand and leading her up the path. “I’ve got big plans for us.”
Dear Reader,
There are stories everywhere, even stories within stories, and for me, the act of writing them down turns into an endless process of discovery. I find myself learning something new with each new book, whether it be the way to run a country inn or the honest emotion of becoming part of a blended family. While working on Dockside, I spent a long time thinking about the way love can shape a life, and one character in particular snagged my attention—the beautiful, brilliant and emotionally lost Sophie Bellamy.
Next winter, be prepared to turn up the heat and burrow under the covers with Snowfall at Willow Lake, coming in February 2008. Like all the LAKESHORE CHRONICLES books, this one is about all the loves that fill a woman’s life, and all the ways that love is tested and made to grow. It’s the story of what comes after a woman survives an unspeakable horror and finds her way home, to healing and redemption and maybe even a new chance at happiness.
Happy reading,
Susan Wiggs
www.susanwiggs.com
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0382-6
DOCKSIDE
Copyright © 2007 by Susan Wiggs.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
