Another Yesterday

by Angela Christina Archer

  “It’s seven o’clock.”

  “And I’m tired.” He snorted. “Go and have some fun. I think you’ve earned it.”

  While a lot of the buildings in town showed their age, Moe’s looked new. Of course, it was the same crooked building, but it had a fresh coat of paint, new windows, and a new roof by the looks of it. Not to mention, all the letters in the bright-red neon sign were lit. Drake and Bridget had done a fine job, and as I entered the restaurant, I noticed it wasn’t just the outside they had fixed up. New paint, a new cash register, and new tables with chairs greeted me, along with dozens of customers who were too busy stuffing their faces to notice anyone else coming in.

  “Hey, Rachel,” Drake said. He waved from behind the counter then continued filling up a roll with chopped lobster smothered in mayo.

  “Rachel!” Bridget spun from a table she had just cleared. With two dirty dishes in each hand, she let out a squeal and rushed over to me. “I’m so glad you are here.”

  “I just came to get some dinner. I can’t stay long.”

  “Oh, nonsense. James already called.”

  “He did?”

  “Yep, just a few minutes ago. He said he sent you over here for the purpose of getting you out of the inn for the night and he wanted me to make sure you had a little bit of fun.”

  “Oh he did, did he?”

  “Yep, and he also said you would probably either try to sneak in and out without anyone noticing or tell me you couldn’t stay long.”

  “Of course, he did.” I glanced around the room. “Well, I guess I’ll sit at the bar, so then I can talk to you guys.”

  “Actually,” she moved around me, strolling over to the counter to dump the empty plates. “Judy, our other waitress, should be here soon. Why don’t I seat you out on the deck and then I’ll be out as soon as she comes in. Drake might be able to call in another one of our cooks and we can have a little celebration.”

  “I don’t mean to take up your evening, and I know my dad said I would say I can’t stay long as an excuse, but it’s really not. I have so much work to do, and I should go to bed early so I can wake up early.”

  “Oh, come on.” She grabbed my arm. “It will be fun. We can eat, have a few drinks . . . well, you and Drake can.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  A smile spread across her face, the biggest one I think I’d ever seen on her face—even bigger than the night she gushed about her and Drake’s first kiss or their after-prom party for two.

  “I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I think I’m pregnant. Well, no, not think, I am. I got two pink lines on five pregnancy tests. I have an appointment in Bangor next week to confirm and do the first ultrasound.”

  “Oh my gosh! That’s so exciting. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks! I have no idea how this even happened or why, but I guess that’s just how God works and I’m not going to question it.”

  “I wouldn’t either.”

  “So, see we have to celebrate. You, me, and Drake—if he can get away. If not, it will still be fun just us girls.”

  “Well, when you put it like that.” I shrugged. “Who am I to say no?”

  “You’d be a rotten friend, that’s who.” She laughed.

  “I kind of already won that award for not keeping in touch with you.”

  She waved off my honesty. “Water under the bridge, Rachel. It’s water under the bridge.”

  She led me out onto the deck. The sun hit the water and the bright glare blinded me. As I lifted my hand to block it, I caught sight of Luke sitting at a table in the middle of several others. He held a roll in his hand and paused mid bite, meeting my gaze.

  “Luke!” Bridget gushed. “I forgot you were out here.”

  Like hell she did.

  “Like hell you did,” he said, mirroring my thoughts exactly.

  “Oh, hush, I did too. I got so excited seeing Rachel come in the door I just,” she pretended to pull a thought from her mind, “forgot. But since you are here, and she is here, why don’t you two just sit together? Keep each other company until Judy gets here and I can join you two?”

  And there it is.

  “I don’t really need the company,” I said. “And I wouldn’t wish to interrupt his evening.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Nonsense. Luke, would she be interrupting your evening?”

  Luke’s eyes narrowed for a second then he blew out a long breath. “No, she wouldn’t.”

  “See, all fine.” She grabbed the back of the chair across the table from him, motioning me to sit. “I shouldn’t be long. She’s supposed to come in at seven-thirty . . . or is it seven-forty-five? I don’t know, but it’s one of those times. I’ll bring your food out, you just want a roll, right?”

  “With a side of fries and a water,” I added.

  “Got it.”

  She spun again and her ponytail bounced as she skipped back inside the restaurant. If I didn’t long for her energy and crazy-good mood, I would have hated her.

  “You didn’t have to tell her I wasn’t interrupting you,” I said, staring at the wood planks of the table.

  “But you aren’t. So, it’s not a lie.” He took a bite and then another one before setting his hoagie down on the plate.

  I longed for my drink or even my food. Not because I was hungry or thirsty, but because they would be great distractions from the silence between us, and something for me to do and to think about instead of just sitting there like some fool.

  Of course, there were things I wanted to say to him, things I’d thought of repeatedly for the last several days. But while I’d imagined—and even practiced—saying them, however, proved a whole other story.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the progress on the inn,” he finally said.

  “Is it going good?”

  “It’s going slow. I think if you want to open before the fall you should really hire some more guys, especially painters. I can handle all the remodel work, but I can’t stand painting, and the whole inside and outside needs paint.”

  “Okay. Do you know of any good ones?”

  “I already called the guys we hired to do this place. The owner and his team are good, and they get the job done fast. He said he can come out the day after tomorrow to get the measurements and give you a quote.”

  “Okay. I still need to get to a few stores in the city for things. I want everything fresh and new.”

  “Well, let me know if you need help.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Silence overtook us once again and he picked his roll back up, taking a few more bites before setting it back down.

  Say it, Rachel. Say it, now. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.

  “So, about the other day in the kitchen.” My heart pounded and my body tingled. A lump formed in my throat, making my voice crack. “I really didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean to say you were trying to relive our past. I was just trying to make a joke. But it was wrong, and I know it wasn’t funny.”

  He gulped a few sips of soda from his cup and smiled. “I thought it was . . . but just a little.”

  “You fooled me with the way you reacted.”

  “It wasn’t the joke or what you said. I acted rash, and I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have just stormed out and stopped speaking to you.”

  “Were we crazy to think we could do this? Work together?”

  He shook his head, taking another couple of sips. “I don’t think so. I’m enjoying the work. It’s good for me.”

  “I understand. I think it’s been good for me too.” The honesty in my words relaxed through my shoulders and I leaned my forearms on the table, settling into the chair. “We certainly had a wild ride the last few years, huh? Well, I guess I can only speak for myself.”

  “No, I agree. It’s been an adventure for me too with the Navy and the break-up.”

  “How did we get here?” Although the question was a serious one, I snorted a laug
h. I didn’t really need an answer, but curiosity led me to want one.

  “Because you left me down on one knee in the middle of the beach one night.” He winked and I leaned back in my chair, pointing at him.

  “Ah, you’re just trying to make a bad joke, now, aren’t you?” I asked.

  He laughed. “You caught me.”

  I leaned my elbows back on the table and buried my face in my hands for a moment before running my fingers through my hair. I held my head.

  “I’ve really made some bad choices in life, haven’t I?”

  “If the shoe fits.”

  “Hey now.” I met his gaze, but as he smiled again, so did I. “I deserve that, don’t I?”

  We both laughed, until he stopped and leaned his own elbows on the table. “In all honestly, Rachel, it was a good thing you left me that night. We were too young, too foolish. We wouldn’t have made it, and not because we didn’t love each other, but because we didn’t know who we were or what we wanted out of life. Don’t, for one second, think I blame you or I hate you for what you did. I don’t. I couldn’t.”

  We both stared at one another, and I felt the weight of his words. Not only had they been what I longed to hear from him, they had been the same ones I’d wanted to tell him all these years. I had done the worst thing ever in walking away that night, worse still, I fled Shadow Brook without so much as a goodbye to him. I gave him three years and in one night, I took it all away. Then I stole over a decade from him without even telling him why.

  “When I arrived in New York, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I just wanted out of here and I thought the new city would instantly make me realize what I was supposed to do with my life. Of course, I was wrong, and I spent a lot of the first year of college dropping classes, only to pick up others and then I dropped them too. I bounced around like a ball until one night, while reading a book, it hit me.”

  “And what was it?”

  “Writing. I was so enamored with the way the author had painted the world and the characters. They weren’t perfect. They were flawed like I was. And I thought, how amazing it must be to write like she did. The next day, I went to the admissions office at school, and I changed my major to English and Literature. I also started an internship at the Gilmore Publishing Group.”

  “If books are your passion, why take on the inn?”

  “I loved my job. Reading fabulous—and some not so fabulous—books, signing authors and seeing how excited they were to get one of those highly-coveted publishing contracts. But there was also something missing. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time and it took me a long time to figure it out. But I often wondered how it would feel to get a contract myself.”

  He held up his hands like an old-fashion weight. “Books. Inn. Still doesn’t match.”

  “Don’t you see? Out here with the inn and some free time, I guess I just thought maybe I could finally start my own book.”

  “Do you have a story in mind?”

  “Kind of. I mean, I have some characters and some of their world in mind, but I don’t have the details.”

  “How about you write a book with two kids who fall in love in high-school. One night one of them, the dashing hero every girl dreams of being with proposes and instead of saying yes, the heroine leaves him kneeing on the beach. Then years later, and after they go through break-ups and divorces, they meet up again because the woman’s mother died and the man is repairing the inn she inherited. There. I just wrote your story. You’re welcome.”

  I laughed. “Sounds like a best seller.”

  “See. You can do it.”

  “But how does it end?”

  His lips twitched for a moment, but as he opened his mouth to answer, Bridget came rushing through the door with my plate of food in her hand. “Wow. I’m so sorry I took so long. I got a couple of phone orders and then more people came in and finally I looked at this roll sitting there and was like ‘Drake, what is this’ and he said ‘Duh, it’s for Rachel’ and then I was like ‘oh, crap, I forgot about her’. Really I do not know where my brain is.”

  “You know,” I said, nodding toward her. “I’ve heard pregnancy brain is a real thing. Moms-to-be lose their minds and all.”

  “Really? That must be it. Anyway, Judy is here, so I’m off the hook.” She set down the plate and took the seat next to me. “So, what are you guys talking about?”

  “Rachel is going to write a book,” Luke said, picking up his own roll to finish off the last half.

  “Oh, that’s interesting. What’s it about?”

  I glanced at him, biting my lip. “Um, I’m not quite sure yet.”

  “She has an idea,” Luke said. “she just needs to figure out how it ends first.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Rachel

  September 1996

  My pencil rolled off the desk, bouncing on the floor before it vanished under the filing cabinet.

  “No, no, no, no. Ugh. Why did you have to roll under there?” While a part of me felt a little foolish for talking to an inanimate object as though it understood me or would answer me, I didn’t care. My annoyance somehow lessened the foolishness of it. I bent down, climbing on all fours as I lowered my face down to the floor to look for it while I stuck my hand under the cabinet, tapping my fingers around to feel for it.

  “Oh, it couldn’t have gone that far. It wasn’t rolling that hard.”

  Someone cleared their throat above me, and I froze.

  Lord, please tell me that isn’t Luke watching me search under this cabinet with my butt sticking up in the air.

  I glanced up, but closed my eyes; opening up only one as if the one closed would somehow free me from embarrassment.

  An older gentleman—perhaps nearing his fifties—stared back at me. Nearly as tall as my dad, his face was warm and kind.

  “Are you the owner?” he asked.

  “Yes, yes, I am.” I pushed off the floor, rising to my feet as I wiped my hands to remove any dust. I should remember to vacuum back here. Next time I will. “My name is Rachel Grey. May I help you with something?”

  He sucked in a breath and for a moment it looked as though his eyes filled with tears. Before they could stream down his cheeks, he blinked them away and cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry if I just barged in without knocking. I just thought . . . it’s a inn.”

  “No, no, you’re fine. I think the only time I lock the door is at night.”

  “I’m looking to rent a room. Are you open for guests?”

  “Well, technically we aren’t. I mean, we can be open since we’ve had the necessary inspections and are allowed to take on guests, but I must warn you, I’m still renovating some of the outside.” I lifted my hands to motion around us. “I can promise you a clean room and tasty meals, but I can’t promise you peace and quiet.”

  He chuckled and rested his hands on the desk. “That’s fine with me.”

  “Great. Let me just get my book.” I moved a few things around on the desk, picking up different sets of papers until I finally found it. “Ah, here is it. How many nights are you looking to stay?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. Why don’t we start with a week?”

  “A week?” I penciled in the dates. “And your name?”

  “Charlie Wil—“

  “Hey Rachel!” The front door opened, and Luke stepped inside. He removed his sunglasses as he looked at the two of us. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You didn’t,” I said. “I was just checking this man in.”

  “Oh, so you’re her first guest, are ya?”

  “First?” The man glanced between the two. “I thought this inn had been around for years.”

  “It has. A woman named Helen owned it, and then she gave it to my parents when I was about a year old. My mom and dad have run it ever since, but when my dad got sick, they kind of closed it. Now that I have taken it over, I’m opening it up again.” I chuckled as I laid the book on the counter by the desk. “
Just sign here and I need a credit card for the deposit. You know, I don’t think I caught your name, Mr.?”

  “Oh, it’s Charlie Wil—“

  BBRRIINNGG! The telephone let out a high-pitched ring as the bell inside vibrated. I jumped, dropping the pen I was about to hand to the man.

  I glanced at Luke, who skirted around the desk and took the pen, nodding as if to understand. “I’ll take your information.”

  I grabbed the phone and spun around, lifting the receiver to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Shouldn’t you say ‘Front desk. How can I help you?’”

  “Dad? Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

  “Nope, just helping you test out the phone system.”

  “Are you seriously calling me from your room upstairs?” I glanced up at the ceiling even though I couldn’t see through it.

  “Where else would I be?”

  “So, what did you need?”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Uh oh.”

  Ignoring my mock, he continued without a beat. “I think we should have a cookout tonight.”

  “A cookout?”

  “Yep. Hamburgers, potato salad, beans, and corn—you know, the works. Really close out summer with some fun.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “I’ve already called Nancy and Evan and they said they would close up shop and head over. She said not to worry about anything, she’ll pick up all the food.”

  “Well that’s actually good because I was just about to call her.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, quite the opposite, actually. I have a guest checking in and I had plans to go to the city to get all the new linens. I don’t want to leave you—and now him—here alone.”

  “A guest, huh? That’s great. Maybe I should take a shower and come downstairs.”

  “I don’t know if that’s necessary.”

  “Rachel, I know you are worried, but I can’t spend my life cooped up in this room. I think the change in scenery might do me some good. I’m feeling pretty good today.”