Another Yesterday

by Angela Christina Archer

“I think I’ll go paint over on that wall.”

  After a few minutes of giggles we both fell silent. Each of us watching the paint glide onto the textured spackle, the sound of the roller like thousands of little octopi using the suction cups on their legs to walk up and down the wall. Pop, pop, pop.

  Charlie kept mostly to himself, glancing at us every now and then with a smile spread across his face.

  “Awful quiet over there,” I said to him. “Are you doing okay?”

  “Me?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m doing fine. I’m actually just trying to remember the last time I painted a room. It’s been awhile.”

  “You know I don’t think I’ve ever asked you where you are from.”

  “San Francisco.”

  “Wow. Talk about going all the way to the other side of the country just for a vacation.” Luke stopped painting for a second, his eyes wide as he blinked.

  “Yeah, but it was a nice drive, and I took my time so I got to see a lot of the country I’d never seen before.”

  “What brought you out here so far from home?”

  “Family.”

  “Oh? You have family in Shadow Brook? Who?” I rolled my brush through the tray, grabbing more paint.

  “They aren’t worth mentioning.” Charlie waved off his words and his eyebrows furrowed. “So when did your mom buy the inn?”

  “She didn’t buy it. Helen the previous owner gave it to my parents when she retired. They moved up here from South Carolina after I was born, and they just sort of fell into the place. I guess I was about one or one and a half when that happened.”

  “Bit of a move to do with such a young child. I’m really sorry that she died. That must have been rough.”

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “Was she from South Carolina?”

  I nodded. “My grandparents are still there, but they never had a great relationship. I don’t really either, so I don’t see them hardly at all.”

  “Seems kind of cool you are taking over the place now.” He dipped his brush into the can of paint, gliding bristles across the side of the can to get rid of the extra. “Must be full of memories if you’ve pretty much lived here your whole life.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Luke asked. “In fact, wasn’t this the room Bridget and Drake tried to rent senior year?”

  “Um, I think so. I never understood why they did it. I mean, did they really think my parents wouldn’t notice?”

  “They had a good idea with her cousin coming into town and using her name to rent the room and check in for them.”

  “Yeah, it’s just a shame they were caught going up the stairs when my mom knew her cousin wasn’t up there.”

  “Didn’t she freak out?”

  I snorted. “Total freak out. I don’t know how Dad managed to calm her down. Luckily, he did, though, since she was about to call Bridget’s parents to tell them.”

  “Eh, they probably wouldn’t have cared. Drake told me a long time ago they knew they were sleeping together.”

  “Her mom took her to the doctor for birth control, so yeah, they knew. She also took me, remember?” I cocked my head, trying to shove away the memory of a missed period junior year, how I freaked out when I thought I’d gotten pregnant, and how I cried as Luke drove me to a doctor in Bangor so my parents wouldn’t find out. When the results came back negative, I spent the rest of the weekend at Bridget’s house, crying the entire time until her mom asked what was wrong. After I told her, she offered to take me without telling my parents. Perhaps it was foolish of her, but as a seventeen-year-old with my mother, she’d been my guardian angel that day.

  “I don’t even want to think about how your mom would have reacted if she’d known about us.”

  “She was so old-fashioned. ‘No sex before marriage.’ I think I can still hear her voice.” I paused, inspecting the layer of paint. “Sometimes I used to think she was never a teenager.”

  Charlie snorted then cleared his throat as Luke and I stared at him. “Sorry. I was just reliving some of my own memories. I can forget at times what it was like to be young. And add in love? It can be a crazy, fun time in someone’s life. I know it was in mine.”

  “My dad says the same thing,” Luke said. “I always used to think he was nuts, but honestly, sometimes I can’t remember what I was like in my late teens and early twenties.”

  Charlie nodded slightly then ducked his chin away from us and wiped his eyes. His shoulders hunched.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I think,” he bent over and set the paint brush down before fetching the lid to the paint can and putting it back on, “I think the paint smell is getting to me a little bit.”

  “Maybe you should take a break.”

  “Yeah, probably best if I did. I’m sorry I can’t help as I thought I could.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal at all. You helped out plenty.”

  Without another word he scurried toward the door, hiding his face.

  “Let me know if you need anything.” I called after him.

  He waved his hand but didn’t look back as he vanished from the room, shutting the door behind him.

  “What do you think that was all about?” I asked Luke.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s probably not our business to know.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “Well,” Luke dropped the brush onto the tarp below his feet. “I think that’s the last layer for me. We just have to wait for it to dry so we can pull the tape off the molding, door and window frames, and the baseboards.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m done here too.”

  I stepped off the ladder, setting the roller back in the tray before I stepped back and spun in a circle, glancing around the room.

  “I think it looks good,” he said, doing the same.

  “I think it looks perfect.”

  We both stopped inches apart and facing each other.

  “The bedding set you bought is going to look great in here too,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think so too.”

  “It’s cool to think of, you know, of how many people have stayed in this room and how many more will stay. Makes you wonder what these walls have heard.” His lips curved into a sideways smile and he wiggled his eyebrows. “Or seen.”

  “Gross!” I slapped at his arm again. “Who would want to think about watching others have sex?”

  “Oh, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Don’t you ever think of anything else?”

  “Of course, I do. I think of lots of things. I was thinking more along the lines of love and laughter between couples who’ve stayed here. Imagine all the conversations and maybe even a couple of wedding propsals.”

  I stepped closer to him, shoving my hands on my hips. “So, why don’t you ever bring those other things up with me?”

  “Because it’s hard to think of those other things when I’m around you.” After he said the words, his smile vanished.

  Mine did to.

  As he sucked in a breath, my own quickened and shortened in my lungs.

  “I . . . I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “It’s fine.” I dropped my gaze to the floor. “You don’t have to apologize.”

  He lifted his hand to my chin, drawing my gaze back up to his. His touch was like lightning on my skin. Familiar, and yet different, he still had the ability to weaken my knees.

  “You’ve really turned into a beautiful woman, Rachel. I mean, you were always stunning, but this . . .” He inched even closer and slid his hand up my cheek, cradling my face.

  Heat rushed up the back of my neck.

  As I opened my mouth to speak, the door opened behind me and Nancy stepped inside. We jerked away from one another, each facing her. I stuck my hands in my pockets while he ran his through his hair.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?” she asked, arching one eyebrow. />
  I shook my head while Luke answered. “No, no, you didn’t.”

  “We were just finishing up the painting so we can mark this room done,” I said. My cheeks burned as Nancy crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

  “You were just painting?”

  “Well, we just finished. I think it looks good. Don’t you think?”

  “Oh, yeah, I do. I think it looks great.” She winked and I giggled a little louder than I wanted.

  “Did you need something?” I asked her.

  “I just wanted to know how the visit to the hospital went today.”

  As suddenly as my heart thumped over the moment between Luke and me, it plummeted into my stomach with the reminder of my dad.

  I shrugged. “He still gets tired easy. But I think he’d like to see you and Evan soon.”

  She bit her lip. “I’ll tell Evan. Maybe we can go to tomorrow.”

  Luke cleared his throat. “Well, I should probably get going for the night. A shower and a crock pot of chili are waiting for me at home.”

  Nancy eyed him and then me. “Chili, huh? Why don’t you join him, Rachel?’”

  “Oh, I don’t think . . .” I shook my head. “Besides, I have Charlie to think about.”

  “Oh, let me worry about him. I’m sure he will understand. He came into the flower shop this afternoon and stayed for a bit, talking with Evan about his days in the army. I’m sure they would be more than happy to continue their conversation over dinner.”

  “I wouldn’t mind the company.” Luke bent down, fetching the painting supplies. “If you want to join me that is. I could make some cornbread too.”

  I tucked my hair behind my ears, searching my mind for a reason to say no. I couldn’t think of anything though, and as our eyes met, I didn’t want to.

  “What time do you want me there?” I asked.

  TWENTY-ONE

  I drove up the driveway toward the seaside cabin near the lighthouse. The same tiny place I remember from all those years we, as teenagers, came up here to enjoy ourselves. We never knew who owned it, but no one had lived in it as far back as I could remember, and of course, we weren’t going to ask anyone. Asking meant knowing, and knowing meant we couldn’t be up here.

  Climbing out of the car, the sea breeze hit my face, and I closed my eyes, inhaling a deep breath. I didn’t want to think about whether or not tonight was a good idea any more than I wanted to think about whether or not I should even be here.

  “This is crazy, right? Rachel, why are you here?” I asked myself. No, don’t do this. Don’t talk yourself out of this. “You agreed to be here. You can’t flake out on him.”

  With each step toward the front door, I repeated the same words over and over again, using them to draw strength and distract me from the butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach.

  “You can’t flake out on him.”

  I squared my shoulders, and glanced up toward the sky, exhaling a deep breath as I knocked on the front door. It opened within seconds, making me jump.

  “That was fast,” I said.

  “I heard the car pull up.” Luke backed away from the door, motioning me inside. “Come in.”

  Just as tiny on the inside, the cabin breathed with a rustic roughness. Like something I would picture coming across while in the deep, backwoods in some remote part of Alaska with log walls and log furniture.

  “Oh, here,” I handed him a bottle of wine. “Nancy said this one would go good with the chili.”

  He took it from me and flipped it over in his hand, reading the label. “I think I’ve tried this kind. It’s good.”

  “Well, then, yay, I did good.” I held out both arms, throwing my hip out to one side as I shook my hands.

  What on earth are you doing? If the world under my feet could open up and swallow me, I’d be grateful.

  I cleared my throat. “So, the chili smells good.”

  “And it is good. I took a test bite not too long ago and it was all I could do to not eat a bowl full.”

  “Oh, well, you didn’t have to wait for me.”

  “No, I did.” He spun and made his way toward the tiny kitchen in the corner.

  “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not late, then. I wouldn’t want to make you starve.”

  While I wanted to slap my forehead, I didn’t. Instead, I just slid onto one of the bar stools and tapped my fingernails on the counter. “Shall we open the bottle of wine?”

  Yes, because that’s exactly what I need. Like now.

  “Be my guest.” He yanked an opener from one of the drawers, handing it to me, and while I twisted the screw down into the cork, he fetched two glasses from one of the cabinets and set them down on the counter.

  “I’m actually kind of shocked I have these.”

  “Why? Not a big wine drinker?”

  “Nah, not really. Elizabeth was, though. She must have forgotten these.” His eyes widened as he finished his sentence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought her up.”

  “Oh no, don’t apologize. We both have pasts and it’s not like this is a date or anything.” I giggled, yanking on the cork. It popped out easier than I expected, and I nearly dropped the bottle.

  “Right.” He pointed at me. “Not a date.”

  “Nope. Not a date.” I twisted the cork off the screw of the opener and set it down, smelling the wine inside the bottle before handing it to him. “So, since this is not a date, it puts us as . . . friends, right?”

  “I would say that. Yeah.”

  “So, as friends we could talk about our ex’s, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Well, then, there’s no need to apologize.”

  He snorted and nodded as he poured some wine in each glass and handed me one. “Fair enough.”

  I took a sip, letting the robust, burgundy flavor tickle my tongue. “So, Elizabeth was a wine person, but you weren’t? Must have been interesting,” I said.

  He shrugged as he grabbed a small cutting board and began chopping an onion into tiny chunks. “She would do the wine stuff with her friends.”

  “Wine stuff?”

  “You know, wine tasting, wine tours. It was always their thing which made it easy.”

  “How long were you two together?”

  “Two years dating and engaged for one. I was overseas for most of the time, though.” He paused and his eyebrows furrowed. “I guess I can’t really blame her for leaving. You can’t really build a life with someone who is never around.”

  “You can if you really love them.” I took another sip, letting my words sink in. Crap. “I don’t mean to imply she didn’t love you.”

  He smiled as he paused with the knife hovering over the onion for a moment before starting to chop it again. “I know it’s not. Don’t worry. I understood what you meant, and I agree. I know she loved me, but it wasn’t a big enough kind of love, if that makes any sense. Which is fine. She deserves to find the person she’s meant for just as much as I do.”

  “You are way more understanding than me.” I chuckled.

  “What do you mean?”

  I glanced down at the wine in my glass as I thought of all the hatred and anger I held for Paul for the last, what, five or six months.

  Had it really been only that long? I swear it felt like years.

  “I guess I never really wished for Paul and whatever her name is to have a happy life.”

  “Maybe you can now.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “That sounds convincing.” He laughed.

  “No, I don’t mean not to.” I laid my forearms on the counter and leaned on them. “I don’t know. I go back and forth with it all. I mean, I don’t want him back or anything, but I guess I didn’t get to make the choice.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He chose for me. He chose to leave. He chose to cheat. He chose to throw me away. He chose to divorce and not try. He chose everything and I had to go along.”

  As I leaned back an
d folded my arms across my chest, Luke dropped the knife and arched one eyebrow as he grabbed his glass and sipped at his wine.

  “What is that look for?” I asked him.

  “Isn’t it usually one person deciding and the other one just has to go along with it?”

  His words hit me square in the jaw as if they were a punch from a closed hand. “I suppose you’re right.” I exhaled a deep breath, snorting a laugh. “Where were you a few months ago when I needed to hear that?”

  “Going through my own ‘along for the ride’ breakup.”

  “Well, then,” I held up my glass. “To us finally making a choice for ourselves.”

  As the clinking sound echoed through the cabin, we both fell silent. While I hadn’t had much of a choice in my life since the day I walked in on Paul, as the days went on, I was finding those newfound freedoms I once thought I’d lost.

  “So, does it still count as our choice if we are coming back to the one place we thought we’d never come back to because our parents are here?” Luke took another sip.

  “I think so. I could have easily sold the inn and headed back to New York with enough money in my pocket to start again. Heck, I could have started over anywhere in the country if I wanted.”

  “And you chose here.”

  “So, did you.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “It’s funny how it’s worked out, isn’t it?” I wrinkled my nose.

  “So, how long were you married?”

  “Nine years. I met him a couple of weeks after I moved to New York and we dated for two years after that. He and some colleagues came into the restaurant where I was working. I didn’t think much about him, but about an hour after they left, he came back and asked for my phone number.”

  “Nine years is a long time.” Luke’s eyes met mine. “May I ask you why you and your ex-husband didn’t have children?”

  I sat up, leaning against the back of the chair. “Um, that’s kind of a complicated story.”

  “What? Was he unable?”

  “No, and in fact his new wife is having their son, remember?”

  “Ah. Right. You told me that already.”

  “You know, she’s probably had the baby by now.” Along with my words, I did the mental calculation from the last time I’d seen them at my divorce attorney’s office. They were probably living in our old house enjoying life as one happy little family. While I didn’t want to picture the images in my mind, I couldn’t help but think of Paul rocking his son in a chair while he looked down on him with love. So many times, I’d wondered what kind of a father he would make. Instead of letting myself think about it too much, though, I would hide behind the excuses that I didn’t want children, or I would make a bad mom.