This Reminds Me of Us

by Julia Gabriel

P.S. Don’t wait for the time to be right, Serena.

  What did that mean? Wait for the time to be right for what? Why would another man be saying that to his wife?

  “How friendly did they look when you saw them in Two Beans?”

  “Ahh, I don’t remember, man. I didn’t really think anything of it at the time.”

  “I think they were having an affair.” There, he’d said it—the thing that had been percolating in his mind for weeks now. Serena and Ben had an affair. He heard Matt’s cot squeak as his brother rolled onto his side to look at him, but Oliver kept his own eyes trained on the water-stained ceiling.

  “Really? Because Ben never seemed the type. He adored Ashley.”

  “You never know about people, though.”

  Matt made no reply to that.

  Oliver knew he should probably shut up. But he was on a roll now and who better to talk this over with than Matt? Matt had more experience with women than Oliver and Jack combined.

  “Have you ever slept with a married woman?” Oliver asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” his brother replied, in a tone that suggested he might be getting bored with this conversation.

  But Oliver persisted. It was one of his worst qualities—according to his mother and, well, pretty much everyone—his talent for getting stuck on a path and being unable to redirect.

  “You think I should confront her?” He rolled his head to one side and looked across at Matt.

  “I’m not really the best person to ask for relationship advice. Lord knows, I’ve made a hash of things lately. What’s your evidence for this?”

  “You saw the two of them together. He was the first person she remembered when she woke up. And now she gets this letter?”

  “Seems a little flimsy to me.”

  “And where was she going on the day of the accident? Without the kids? Why would she need to drop off Mason and Cam with a babysitter in the middle of the day?” He stared up at the water stains again.

  “I guess it depends on what consequences you’re willing to tolerate. You know, the guy is dead. Even if they did have an affair, it’s over now.”

  “If it happened once, it can happen again.”

  “I don’t think—”

  Matt’s response was interrupted by the station’s alert system. Oliver shot a quick glance across the room at the light stack flashing on the wall, then pulled out his phone to check the app the department used to communicate the location of emergency calls coming in. In seconds, he and Matt were off the cots and sprinting downstairs, the conversation they were having immediately forgotten.

  Chapter 22

  Serena stood on the porch steps, hugging her arms to stay warm, watching the school bus drive off. She lifted a hand to stifle a yawn. It was seven-thirty in the morning, and she’d had a fitful night of sleep. There was a serious fire overnight, two houses on the other side of town. Two families displaced.

  She always worried when Oliver had the overnight shift. Not that the overnight shift was any more dangerous than a daytime one, but she had things to distract her during the day. At night, it was too easy to simply lie awake and worry.

  She was turning back toward the front door when Oliver’s black SUV pulled into the driveway. She waved at him as the garage door lifted, but there was no wave back. He must be exhausted after the night he had. She’d go in and kiss him “hello,” then let him go straight to bed.

  In the kitchen, though, Oliver poured two mugs of coffee. He slid one across the island as she approached. She tried to ignore the alarm bells going off in her head.

  “That’s not decaf,” she pointed out.

  “That’s fine.”

  The alarm was ramping up to a five-alarm siren now. Why would he be drinking regular caffeinated coffee before going to bed?

  “You’re not tired? That was a big fire last night.” She could see that he was tired. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, the lines around his mouth more pronounced.

  “It was. Someone put out hot ashes from a fireplace and caught their garage on fire.” He pulled out one of the bar stools and sat down. “Have a seat.”

  She did as he asked. “What’s the matter?”

  “You had an affair with Ben Wardman.”

  The alarm bells fell silent, so silent that she wondered whether she was back in the coma. Maybe I never woke up? But no, Oliver was still sitting there, his blazing eyes boring into her, evidently waiting for a response.

  “What?” she managed.

  “You heard me. Don’t make me say it again. It was hard enough the first time.”

  “No, I didn’t. Why would you even say such a thing?” She pushed away the coffee mug. Just the smell of it was turning her stomach.

  “Matt said he used to see you and Ben having coffee last year.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “You didn’t remember that you had kids, either. Yet they exist.”

  Serena struggled for air. What was going on here?

  Breathe. Breathe.

  “Pretty large leap from having coffee to having an affair,” she said quietly, warily.

  “And you got a letter from him yesterday.”

  “Asking me to do something for his widow. If we’d had an affair, would he ask me to do that?”

  “And he was the first person you remembered when you woke up.”

  She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Can’t you hear how ridiculous this sounds?” She waited for him to agree. Instead, he said nothing. “Maybe you should go take a nap,” she suggested. This had to be the stress and exhaustion of his overnight shift talking.

  “I think I will.”

  She watched his back as he walked out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs, waiting—hoping—that he would turn around and say something. Anything. But she knew he wouldn’t. Oliver was the strong, silent type. It was one of the things she loved about him. One of the many things. Their trip with the boys to the Air and Space Museum felt like years ago already. Oliver was relaxed and happy that weekend. And now? Now he was accusing her of having an affair.

  I’m pretty sure I would remember that.

  She listened to the water turn on and off upstairs in their bathroom, then his footsteps moving across the floor to the bed. She wanted to march right up there and talk this out. But she sensed it would be futile at the moment. Her husband wasn’t good at talking things out under the best of circumstances, and this certainly wasn’t that.

  It might be better to just go about her day and see what he was like later. They had six hours before the boys got home from school. She dumped out her cold coffee and poured a fresh cup, splashed it with milk. She leaned against the island as she drank. March 4th was only a week and a half away. She would do what Ben had asked her to do—not for his sake, but for Ashley’s. She could ask her out to lunch or dinner, but that might be too obvious. Knowing that Serena was trying to distract her would only call attention to what she needed to be distracted from.

  It had to be something involving other people, not just the two of them.

  Tea at Evangeline’s is always lovely.

  Tea. Wow. I haven’t been to tea since I was sixteen. Her mother had enrolled her in an etiquette course, one that Serena remembered as being interminably long and dull. Manners, the art of small talk, when to use which fork. Evangeline’s probably did a nice tea, though, if it wasn’t too late to make a reservation.

  She took another quick slug of coffee, then poured the rest into the sink and put the mug into the dishwasher. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was five past eight. Lucy Wyndham’s yoga studio, where Ashley used to take classes, was open early. As Sterling Matthew’s fiancé, Lucy could probably pull some strings for her at Evangeline’s, if needed.

  Serena grabbed her coat and purse—and the keys to the minivan—and headed for the garage. She crossed her fingers that Oliver was too zonked out to hear the garage door lifting.

  She eased the minivan into a sp
ot right in front of Studio L Yoga. Fortunately, parking was easy on Main Street in the winter. In the peak summer season? Forget about it. But today, Serena didn’t even have to attempt parallel parking. She let out a little sigh of relief as she turned off the engine and got out of the car. The doctor hadn’t cleared her for driving yet, but technically she still had her license.

  Yeah, Oliver was going to be furious when he discovered she was gone, but she drove by herself. She would never drive with the boys in the car until the doctor said it was okay, but Ashley had taken her out driving a lot lately. Being dependent on Ashley and Oliver whenever she needed to leave the house was getting old.

  It also made her realize how dependent on Oliver she must have been before the accident.

  How did she let that happen? Become financially dependent on a man? It was the one thing she had sworn never to do—get trapped inside a man’s life like her mother had. Even a good man like Oliver Wolfe. Things could happen to good men, too—especially when they were firefighters. And what then? Life insurance wouldn’t last forever. And the older you got, the harder it was to find a job. Her mother had learned that lesson the hard way.

  Serena opened the door to the yoga studio and took a deep inhale. It always smelled so good inside. Lavender and something … citrusy. She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was relaxing and invigorating at the same time. No wonder Ashley loved to come here. She peeked discreetly through the window separating the front office area from the actual studio, where Lucy was finishing up a class. Serena scanned the studio, looking for Ashley. She didn’t see her.

  A moment later, the studio door opened and twenty sweaty women poured out, along with a faint trickle of New Age-y music.

  “Hey girl.” Lucy made her way through the students donning shoes and fleece jackets. “You’re finally coming back to class? We’ve missed you.”

  Serena froze. “Uh …”

  Lucy’s face fell. “Oh sorry. I forgot that … and jeez, that doesn’t make it any better, does it?”

  “It’s okay. So I used to come to class here?”

  Lucy nodded, her cheeks bright pink with embarrassment. “With Ashley. I am so sorry, Serena.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I wonder why Ashley hasn’t said anything to me about class.”

  “Probably because she hasn’t been here much lately. So drag her in here, okay?”

  Serena moved closer to the front desk to allow people to get to the front door. Each time another person left, a blast of chilly air dispersed some of the studio’s lavender scent.

  “I’ll try,” she promised Lucy. “The reason I stopped in today, though, is because her wedding anniversary is coming up. March 4th.”

  “Ohhh.” Lucy nodded her head slowly.

  “And I want to do something for her that day. To keep her mind off of it, you know?”

  She wasn’t going to tell Lucy—or anyone—about the letter from Ben. The fewer people who knew about it, the less likely Ash would be to find out. And Oliver was right about one thing—getting a letter from a dead man was more than a little creepy. Ben’s heart was in the right place, certainly, but she wondered if maybe he should have sent the letters out before he died. Granted, she herself had been in the hospital—with uncertain prospects for recovery—but Oliver would have saved the mail for her. Hell, he’d saved an entire box of junk mail.

  “I was thinking perhaps tea at Evangeline’s?” she continued. “But it might be too late to set that up.”

  Lucy smiled broadly. “Oh, I love that idea. And getting into Evangeline’s won’t be a problem at all. March is the deadest month at the Inn. No special holiday weekends and the weather isn’t quite nice enough yet.” She reached beneath the counter and pulled out her phone. “I’ll text Sterling now.”

  “Umm …” Serena watched as Lucy thumb-typed. “I’m not sure who all to invite, though. Ash seems to mostly be holing up at home these days, and for the life of me I can’t remember who her other friends might be.”

  Lucy looked up from her phone, a soft look in her eyes. “You and Ashley were always thick as thieves, so you’re the most important person to invite.”

  “But I don’t want it to be just me and her. That would be too obvious that I’m trying to distract her from the anniversary. I mean, you’re invited of course. If you want to come.”

  “I would love to come. You could ask Michelle Trevor and her daughters. They would certainly come if they’re free that day. And if you want, I can invite a few people so it doesn’t look like the event is being held just for Ashley. There are people in town who would like to help her get through this, if she’d let them.”

  “I know. She won’t even let me help much. She’s not able to picture a life without Ben yet.”

  “Well, try and get her back in here. I worry about her, too. And as for you, we’ve started a mom and me class on Saturdays. Bring those adorable boys of yours.”

  Serena couldn’t stifle a grimace. “I’m not sure how adorable they’d be in a yoga class.” She tried to picture Mason and Cam being still enough to do yoga.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  The studio’s front door opened, admitting another blast of cold air and several students for the next class. Serena needed to be on her way if she didn’t want to get roped into a yoga class right that minute.

  “I would be surprised,” she said to Lucy. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Lucy’s phone vibrated and she glanced down. “Sterling says Evangeline’s is wide open that day. Just give him a call.”

  It was a ten-minute walk from the yoga studio to Quilt Therapy on Azalea Street, so Serena slipped on her gloves and left her car parked where it was. She would stop by the shop and speak to whichever Trevor was working this morning, except … she looked up at the sky as she walked. The sun was still struggling to break through the early morning clouds. Quilt Therapy didn’t open for another hour.

  The aroma of coffee beckoned, and Serena quickened her pace until she reached Two Beans coffee shop. She could kill some time here with coffee and a muffin. She slipped inside and joined the long line of customers. Was it always this busy? She craned her neck to look toward the back of the shop. Nearly every small bistro table along the back wall was occupied. Her eyes lifted toward the spider plants hanging in baskets from the ceiling. How did they keep those alive all winter long? Her house plants always seemed to die once the temperature dropped outside—like they knew it was winter.

  Two Beans was a nice space, but she wasn’t sure it was around when she first moved to town. Or been around in this incarnation. The shop felt familiar to Serena, but was that because she remembered it—vaguely—or simply because it was a coffee shop, a familiar sort of place? She had practically lived in coffee shops during college. There was a sameness to a lot of them—small wooden tables, a sofa or two to make it look cozy, inoffensive music playing in the background. Maybe that was the point. No matter which one you were in, you were bound to feel comfortable there.

  The line snaked toward the long marble-topped counter and Serena moved forward a few spots. She studied the black chalkboard menu. Latte, cappuccino, flat white, espresso, mocha, drip coffee in both light and dark roast, chai tea, hot chocolate … all standard fare. The only thing that stuck out to her as different was the Vietnamese coffee. She had no idea what that was, which meant either it was a new addition to the menu or Serena wasn’t really remembering this place, after all.

  When finally it was her turn at the counter, she was faced with a woman about her own age, her dark hair in a thick braid off to one side. The name “Mai” was embroidered on the brown and white striped apron she wore. The barista was clearly of Vietnamese descent, so that explained the coffee.

  “Hi Serena,” Mai said, smiling brightly. “The usual?”

  Her greeting caught Serena off guard. She had a “usual” here? Apparently so. If only she knew what it was.

  Say yes.

  Why not? How unusual could he
r usual be?

  “Sure,” she answered, “and a slice of the coffee cake, please.”

  When she left the register a moment later, she was carrying a small wooden tray with the coffee cake and a glass cup of Vietnamese coffee. I’m more unusual than I thought.

  She found an open table and set down her tray, then shed her winter jacket, draping it over the back of the chair. She took a small bite of the coffee cake, chasing it with a sip of the coffee. Whoa. That was some sweet coffee. She hadn’t paid much attention when Mai was making it, but that was clearly not plain milk in her glass. She took another tentative sip. She wasn’t sure she liked it. In fact, her teeth were beginning to ache a bit from the sweetness.

  The front door to the shop opened and closed, and Serena felt the energy in the large room alter just ever so slightly. Then a voice from the back of the shop called out, “He-yyy Matt-tay.” She looked up to see Matt Wolfe striding toward her. She gave her brother-in-law a neutral smile.

  “You’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning,” she said when he leaned over and rested his elbows on her table.

  “Yeah, I’m younger than your husband.” He snorted. “From the expression on your face a moment earlier, you don’t seem to be enjoying that drink.”

  She shrugged.

  “What can I get you instead?” He stood up.

  “That’s okay, You don’t have to get me anything, Matt.”

  “I insist.”

  “A drip, then, please. Black.”

  A few moments later, Matt was back with her coffee. He waved off her money. “My treat.” Then he carried his own coffee to the back of the shop and sat by himself at a table there. Not that Serena minded. She wasn’t feeling overly charitable toward Matt these days. She had half a mind to walk back there herself and demand to know why he was filling her husband’s ear with wild tales.

  She looked around Two Beans and tried to picture where she and Ben might have had coffee, if Matt’s story were true. At the table where an older couple was sitting? On one of the sofas? Or in the back, away from prying eyes? But nothing triggered a recollection.