Maybe We Will (Silver Harbor)

by Melissa Foster

  Abby pushed to her feet, feeling sick and exhausted. “This is all too much. I’m going upstairs to lie down.” She picked up the sketchbook and said, “Thank you for these. I really love them.”

  “Want to take the pitcher?” Deirdra asked.

  Abby shook her head and went up to her bedroom. She kicked off her sandals and lay on her bed. Aiden’s cologne lingered on the pillow. She rolled onto her side, catching sight of a framed picture of her and Aiden that hadn’t been there before. It was the selfie they’d taken the first day he’d helped her at the Bistro, right after she’d agreed to help him work through his list.

  She sat up to pick up the picture and found a handwritten note from Aiden along with the letter from her mother tucked beneath it. Setting the letter from her mother aside—she didn’t need to go down that rabbit hole—she read Aiden’s note.

  Dear Abs,

  This is one of my favorite pictures. I would have kissed you then if Cait hadn’t walked in. I never knew three weeks could feel like three wonderful years. I probably didn’t say this enough while I was there (I was too busy falling in love with you), but thank you for helping me with my Let Loose list and for bringing a new level of happiness and true love into my life. These next two weeks can’t pass soon enough.

  Yours always, Aiden

  Abby’s tears fell onto the note. She pressed it to her chest as she lay down and closed her eyes, wishing she could rewind time. Wishing he had told her he was the investor. Wishing she could believe he was the liar she accused him of being, because that would give her the clarity to walk away. But in her heart she didn’t believe it, and walking away would mean losing the truest love she’d ever known and the only love she wanted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY–FIVE

  ABBY WALKED UP to the Bistro Tuesday morning feeling like she’d lived a hundred years in the last forty-eight hours. Thank God for Cait. She’d not only met the installer yesterday, but she also had the patience of a saint. One minute Abby was vehemently upset about Aiden risking their relationship by not telling her that he was the investor, and in the next, she was poring over the sketches Cait had drawn, missing him so much she could barely move. It hadn’t helped that when she’d finally checked her phone Sunday night, she’d seen a text Aiden had sent hours earlier with a picture of his handsome face and the message This is the face of the man who loves you. That had only made her cry harder.

  She stared at the door to the restaurant, and for the first time since returning to the island, she didn’t want to walk in.

  But she had to.

  The judges were coming in a few hours, and she had a competition to win.

  She filled her lungs with as much courage as she could swallow and headed inside. When she flicked the light switch, bringing to life the colorful lights and elegant chandeliers, a pang of sadness moved through her. She swallowed hard against it, refusing to fall apart. She was not her mother. She didn’t need a man to make her whole.

  Looking straight ahead instead of up, she strode into the kitchen, her pulse quickening at the sight of the gleaming oven unit Aiden had bought. She ran her fingers along the cool stainless-steel edge, and memories of the day the stove had arrived trickled in.

  I do listen. I listen to you saying and doing all the right things to prove you can do this on your own. But, baby, you mean the world to me, and I had to listen to my heart, too . . . I told you my biggest flaw was doing too much for the people I care about . . . When you love someone, don’t you love their flaws, too? I love your stubborn streak as much as I love your determination.

  Tears welled in her eyes. “No,” she said through clenched teeth. “I am not crying again.”

  She threw her shoulders back, grabbed the packet of information the installers had left, and stalked into the office. She riffled through the packet, setting aside the warranty card information, and scanned the receipt. Fourteen thousand dollars? She blinked several times, sure she’d misread the numbers, but as she looked more carefully, she realized that with delivery and installation, the unit had cost Aiden almost fifteen thousand dollars.

  Holy. Fudge.

  She sank down to the chair, her heart racing. She never would have bought such an expensive unit. What was Aiden thinking? Her gaze moved to the receipt for the chandeliers on the edge of the desk. She picked it up, remembering how happy she’d been when she’d found them. She went to the file cabinet and dug out the old article they’d found with the pictures of the lights her father had used, and she carried it into the dining room. Her pulse quickened again as she compared the pictures to the chandeliers she’d bought. They were almost identical, with the exception of the colored crystals. Aiden’s voice whispered through her head. This store has Abby written all over it. Her stomach knotted with an uncomfortable thought. She headed back into the office and didn’t give herself time to back out as she called the number on the receipt.

  “Whimsical Things. This is Medina.”

  “Hi, Medina. This is Abby de Messiéres. I was in the other day and bought three chandeliers that your grandmother had in the stockroom and a few other lights and pictures.”

  “I remember. Hi.”

  “Hi. I love the chandeliers, and I’m curious about where they came from. Is your grandmother around?”

  “She’s not here, but I can check the files. Hold on.”

  Abby became more anxious with every passing minute as she waited for Medina to return. On the heels of the anxiety was guilt, thick as sludge, for even making the call.

  A few painful minutes later, Medina came back on the line. “Hi. Sorry that took so long, but I found the paperwork. It says they were a custom order. Let’s see . . . They were seventy-two hundred dollars each, paid in full. Hold on. This is weird. It looks like there were a bunch of smaller lights custom ordered at the same time, but they’re all different prices—fifty, forty-six, twenty-nine, seventeen, thirty-two, and twenty-four dollars, all paid in full. And there was a refund given for . . . Oh. Huh. The refund was given the day you bought the lights, for the total amount you paid.” Medina quoted the amount and said, “I’m sorry, what did you want to know again?”

  “Um.” Abby swallowed hard, trying to make her brain think past Holy shit, Aiden! “Nothing. Thank you.” She ended the call and sank back in the chair, flabbergasted.

  “Abby? Abby honey?” Shelley’s voice rang out. “Are you here?”

  Shit. She loved Shelley, but she was too rattled to fake being normal, much less happy. Lord give me strength. “I’m here!” Abby feigned her best smile and headed into the dining room.

  “Hey, darlin’. Guess someone’s beau is missing her.” Shelley motioned to a man standing behind her carrying two of the most enormous bouquets of roses Abby had ever seen. “I know my bouquets, and that’s a lot more than two dozen roses.”

  “Six, to be exact, for Abigail de Messiéres.” The man pronounced her name as de Meh-sears.

  “That’s me. Thank you.” Abby took one of the vases and set it on a table. “You can put that one here, too.”

  He set the vase on the table and said, “You must have done something right. Have a nice day.”

  After he left, Abby snagged the card from the plastic holder.

  “You’ve got yourself one heck of a classy beau.” Shelley leaned in to smell the flowers.

  Abby tried to smile, but her thoughts were whirling as she read the card. Good luck, Abs. You’ve got this! Love, Aiden. Even after the way she’d gone off on him, he still believed in her?

  Shelley plucked a card from the other bouquet and handed it to her. “I guess he has too much love for just one card.”

  Abby took the card out of the tiny envelope and read it. Hey, beautiful, please don’t let my mistakes sidetrack you today. Let your magic shine, babe. I’m sorry, and I love you. A

  Do not cry. Do not cry. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Shit. She turned her back to Shelley as tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “Aren’t they lovely?” Shelley said che
erily.

  Abby’s breathing hitched. “Mm-hm.”

  “Oh, honey.” Shelley embraced her. “It’s okay to miss him. Let it out, baby girl.”

  “It’s not that.” Abby stepped from her arms, swiping at her tears. “I mean it is that. I do miss him, but I’m so mad, Shelley. I’m so hurt! First he entered me into the competition; then he bought me an oven. And that’s not all.”

  “No?” Shelley asked, her face riddled with confusion.

  “Oh no. I found out that he spent thousands of dollars on those chandeliers because he knew how much my father’s meant to me.” She thrust her index finger up toward the lights. “And he tried to lend me money for the restaurant.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Shelley’s brows furrowed. “Now I understand why you’re so upset.”

  “Right?” She wiped her eyes. “Thank you!”

  “Oh, yes. What a bastard, doing all those things to help you.” Shelley leaned closer and said, “If you don’t want him, can I get his number for Sutton or Leni? Because thoughtful men are hard to come by.”

  “Ugh!” Abby threw her fists in the air. Shelley was looking at her like she’d really lost her mind, and that was exactly how she felt.

  “Come here, sugar.” Shelley took her by the shoulders and guided her into a chair. She sat beside Abby and said, “Now, how about you take a deep breath and tell me why those things are so horrible.”

  Abby told her the whole story, every little detail, and then she slumped against the back of the chair, depleted. Shelley didn’t respond. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “Yes. But before I do, honey, you’ve always trusted your heart. What does your heart want right now?”

  “That’s not a fair question.”

  “Love isn’t fair, honey.”

  “So I’m learning. I love him, Shelley. I love him so much I can barely breathe when I think about not being with him. But I don’t want to spend my life wondering if I’m being told the truth or not.”

  “I understand that. But to be sure we’re on the same page, you’re not talking about if he’s with other women or has a criminal background, right?”

  “He’d never cheat, and he’s not a criminal.”

  “Okay, then we’re talking about wanting him to tell the truth about if he does something special for you, right? Like having the chandeliers made and paying for most of them?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Then, honey, don’t let yourself fall in love with anyone, because the very nature of being in love is wanting to do what no one else can for the person who means the most to you. And if you don’t want that, then maybe you don’t want to be in love.”

  “But—”

  “Hear me out, Abby. For some couples the stakes are different, because they might not have much in the way of money. The guy might buy his girlfriend a dress she’d had her heart set on, or a pair of earrings. Let’s say you’re dating one of those guys, and they want to buy you earrings, but they’re pricey, so you say no thank you, and you go on your merry way. Then one night you’re getting ready for bed, and lo and behold, you find this pretty little gift box on your pillow with no note. You know who put it there, but when you ask him, he says he didn’t do it. Do you end the relationship over that?”

  “No, but we’re not talking about hundred-dollar earrings.”

  “You’re right. We’re talking about a man who has much more to give than most men. I understand why you’re upset. He made a big mistake, and he made it to you. Trusting doesn’t come easily for you because of what you went through with your mother, which is completely understandable. I love you like my own child. You know that. If I thought Aiden did something malicious, I would tell you. Actually, I’d hunt him down and make him wish he’d never set foot on this island. But nothing you’ve told me changes my opinion of him. He didn’t try to steal your money or lead you astray. He found a way to give you the earrings that had mesmerized you from the time you were a very little girl.”

  “But what if it’s not just lights and money? What if there’s something more he’s after?”

  “Oh, believe you me, honey. There is. What that man is after is worth a lot more than lights or money. Aiden Aldridge is after your beautiful, stubborn, scared—and rightly so—heart. That man wants forever with you.” She touched Abby’s leg and said, “I think the real questions are, do you want forever with him, and can you forgive him for his mistakes?”

  Abby lowered her eyes and said, “Other than these flowers, he hasn’t even reached out to me to try to fix things since our fight. Maybe I ruined us by being such a hothead, and he’s done with me.”

  “Or maybe he’s giving you time to figure out what you really want.” Shelley pulled Abby up to her feet and said, “I can still see you at five years old following your daddy around the restaurant and gardening with your mama. Your gorgeous hair all wild and tangled, wrist deep in dirt, and always a smile to make everyone’s day. You were a special girl, Abby, and you’re an extraordinary woman. Listen to your heart, darlin’, and you can’t go wrong.”

  “I’m trying,” Abby said, drying her eyes.

  “I didn’t get to tell you how great this place looks. You’ve really outdone yourself. Your parents would be proud of you and thrilled for you.”

  A sliver of guilt hit her. “I still haven’t read my mom’s letter.”

  “That’s okay, sweetheart. You will when you’re ready.”

  Abby looked at the roses and the lights, and her eyes filled with tears again.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “You said the very nature of being in love is wanting to do what no one else can for the person who means the most to you.” She swiped at a tear. “Aiden did so much for me, but I didn’t do anything for him. We checked off things on a list he had, but they were silly things like bike riding and going to the beach. I didn’t do anything big.”

  “Honey, Aiden has had a lifetime of big. You gave him the one thing money can’t buy. You gave him love with no strings attached.” Shelley drew her into a warm embrace and said, “Now, you have to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “This is your special day, and I know it will be hard, but you have to put these worries about Aiden aside and allow yourself to focus on making the best damn meal of your life. We’re all counting on you to win this one.” Shelley lowered her voice and said, “I love Wells Silver and I always will, but it’s time a queen wore the best restaurant crown.” She hugged her again and said, “We’re all pulling for you, sweetheart, and those roses tell me Aiden is, too.”

  Cait showed up shortly after Shelley left, which was luckily enough time for Abby to do as Shelley said and tuck away all of her heartache and pull herself together. Abby and Cait pulled out all the stops, draping the tables with linen, using their best place settings, and thanks to Aiden, they used roses for centerpieces. Abby cooked like her life depended on it, using her father’s recipes with her own touches, and Cait was right there by her side, keeping her company and helping her with anything she needed—including talking out her feelings. Cait was much better at it than their overprotective attorney sister, whose parting words yesterday had been Call me if he needs his ass kicked, and if you two make up, he’d better do some big-time groveling.

  Sometimes Abby wondered if Deirdra ever let her guard down.

  Abby and Cait changed into nicer clothes before the judges arrived. The four highly acclaimed food critics from Boston and New York hardly said a word before sitting down to eat. Abby served the meals wearing her chef’s coat and hat, and then she and Cait stood off to the side watching anxiously as the judges ate. The two impeccably suited older gentlemen with salt-and-pepper hair stared straight ahead as they ate, their stoic expressions giving nothing away. The two women, one older, tall, and thin with short gray hair, the other a middle-aged, short, stout blonde, wore conservative dresses and slightly less unyielding expressions. Abby felt like she was eight years old again
, waiting for her turn to see the principal after she and Leni got caught passing notes in class. She was glad Cait was there, but Aiden had become such a big part of her life—of their lives—and of the restaurant, she felt his absence like a missing limb.

  Cait grabbed her hand and whispered, “Do you think they like it? I think they do. They have to. What do you think?”

  “I’m trying not to think,” she said quietly. “We did the best we could.”

  Finally, what felt like two hours later but in reality was probably one, the judges set their napkins beside their plates. They shared a practiced glance and a confirmatory nod, rising to their feet in unison.

  The taller of the two gentlemen said, “Thank you, ladies. We appreciate the fine meal.”

  “We hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for taking the time to judge the contest and for eating here.” For eating here? Abby shook his hand, wishing she’d been more eloquent.

  “It was our pleasure,” the short blonde said. “Have a nice afternoon.”

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Abby and Cait both exhaled loudly.

  “Did you hear that?” Abby asked excitedly.

  “The pleasure thing? Yeah! That’s got to be good!”

  Abby let out a squeal and hugged Cait. They jumped around and wiggled their hips.

  “Look at you! You’re dancing!” Abby exclaimed.

  “I’m celebrating!”

  Abby reached for her phone to share the news with Aiden—and froze, remembering their fight.

  “Are you texting Deirdra?” Cait asked.

  Abby tried to hide her discomfort. “Uh-huh.” She thumbed out a text to Deirdra. Went well!

  “Aren’t you going to text the chandelier fairy?”

  Butterflies swarmed in her belly. “I was thinking about it. He worked so hard for this.”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I want you to text him.”

  “Oh, good. I thought you were climbing into Deirdra’s boat.”