This Reminds Me of Us

by Julia Gabriel

  “So what are the next steps?” Oliver pulled the conversation back to the immediate matter at hand. So what if the universe was taunting him with Ben Wardman? He could ignore the universe.

  “Well, after we sign the contract, the first thing I’ll do is create a program—a written report—that lists the rooms and spaces you need in the building with proposed sizes. Once that is all agreed upon, I will create a bubble diagram. That’s a more visual map of where different functionalities will be. For example, you’ll want sleeping quarters that are close to the main bay so you can get from one to the other quickly when a call comes in. Does that make sense?”

  Oliver nodded. “We want a community room in this station, too, but preferably it would be further away from the main bay. With a separate entrance, even.”

  “Right. Exactly. That’s what we’ll work through with the bubble diagram. Where you want things to be, how you want people to move through the building. You can start to draw up a list of things you think aren’t working as well as you’d like in the current station.” He pulled a business card from his jacket’s inside pocket and held it out to Oliver. “Email me with any thoughts or questions you have.”

  Oliver took the card and slipped it into his own pocket. “Will do.” He liked Finn Brody, despite the connection to Ben. Obviously, the guy was smart. You had to go to college to be an architect. But there was something a little rough around the edges, too. He felt comfortable around that.

  They turned and headed toward their SUVs, which were identical right down to color, make, and model. They’d had a laugh about it back at the station.

  “What year is yours?” Oliver asked now.

  “2015,” Brody answered.

  “Mine, too.”

  They had another laugh about it.

  “Great minds think alike, eh?” Brody said, extending his hand for a final shake. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter 31

  Oliver stood at the edge of the parquet dance floor set up in the Chesapeake Inn’s grand ballroom. Jack and Becca were officially married now. The guests were all stuffed to the gills with asparagus bisque, crab risotto, and surf and turf. Matt, as the best man, had made his toast. The bride and groom had danced their first dance as a married couple.

  Mason and Cam were on the dance floor with their new cousin and flower girl, Jackie. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the sight of his sons flailing—uh, dancing—in their black pants, white shirts, and cummerbunds (blue for Mason, pink for Cam). There was a purple sock monkey in the mix, too, getting swung from Mason to Cam to Jackie and then back again. The boys were both trying a little too hard to impress their cousin with their dance moves.

  They’re not as repressed as their father.

  Tears stung his eyes. His mother was missing this. She was missing Jack’s wedding and would miss Matt’s … well, who knew if Matt would ever get married? So maybe her missing that one was a non-issue. Whatever was between Matt and Cassidy Trevor seemed to be over now. As far as Oliver could tell, they had yet to even speak to each other today.

  Evidently, Cam had dispensed with his black dress shoes at some point because he was dancing in his stocking feet. Oliver could sympathize. He looked around for Serena, and spotted her talking to Becca’s youngest sister, Cam’s shoes dangling from her fingers. She looked lovely in a white dress printed with yellow flowers of some sort.

  Daisies.

  Maybe daisies? Her wild dark hair was pulled back and subdued with a yellow ribbon. It was hard not to draw comparisons between Jack and Becca’s wedding and his own to Serena.

  They had gotten married in October and, while it had been warm enough for an outdoor wedding, they weren’t able to afford a wedding at the Inn.

  A church wedding was cheaper and Serena had hoped that it might change her parents’ minds. She had hoped, right up to the very last minute. Obviously, her parents hadn’t contributed financially to the wedding. His parents had, to the extent they could afford to, but Matt was in community college at the time and Jack was a freshman at Cornell.

  He watched Becca happily chatting with Mike, the Inn’s bartender and several other Inn employees. Not that he begrudged her and Jack this beautiful day, but the Inn had probably given them a discount since Becca worked at Skipjack’s. An employee discount.

  Serena used to work at the Inn.

  Right … she did. How had he forgotten that? For several months after they met, she had continued to work her job on Capitol Hill in Washington and drove to St. Caroline every weekend to see him. But then he had proposed—

  We all worried that you were moving too fast.

  —which was totally out of character for him. Even he had always believed he would need to date a woman for several years before feeling comfortable enough to commit to a lifetime with her. That old adage—measure twice, cut once? He was more like measure six times, then measure twice more for good measure, and then cut.

  You said you just knew she was the one.

  His conversations with his mother were all coming back to him. Serena had accepted his proposal—yeah, he remembered that night. And the next morning and …

  I don’t need to know this.

  Well, that wasn’t part of his conversations with his mother.

  Then Serena quit her job in DC and moved into Oliver’s small apartment over a now-defunct art gallery on Main Street. She took a job at the Chesapeake Inn.

  As a waitress.

  It all came back to him in a rush. She got pregnant on their honeymoon and had to quit because of the terrible morning sickness she had. Actually … now that he thought of it, her morning sickness was bad last year too. She didn’t go out on the boat even once last summer. Matt had used it more than Oliver had.

  Waitressing. He wondered whether Serena remembered that job. Or … oh hell. Did her parents know about it? No wonder they couldn’t stand him. He’d taken their only daughter and turned her into a waitress. Double hell. After all the money they spent on boarding school and Princeton.

  “Hey there.” Matt suddenly appeared by his side. “Trying to pick up some new moves?” He nodded toward Mason and Cam.

  “Actually, I was wondering whether it was you they picked up those moves from. They seem to have picked up quite a bit from you.”

  Matt held up his hands. “Hey, just trying to be a mentor to today’s youth.”

  Ashley Wardman popped up in front of them. “Smile, guys!” The flash went off and she leaned back to look at the shot on her camera. She frowned. “Let’s try that one again. Really smile this time. Like you’re happy to see your little brother married.”

  Oliver forced a smile onto his face. He was happy for Jack. Less happy to see Ashley. When she pronounced the picture “perfect” and turned to go, Oliver felt a sharp jab in his ribs.

  “Dude, let it go,” Matt said. “I’m sorry I ever said anything.”

  “Where’s Cassidy?” He heard his brother’s sharp inhale.

  “Inside. Resting her leg.”

  “What’s going on with you two—”

  Oliver! Don’t be a dick.

  Matt snorted. “Yeah, bro, don’t be a dick.”

  Oliver was confused. “Did I just say that out loud?”

  Matt’s head bounced with laughter. “That was mom.”

  “What do mean, ‘that was mom?’”

  “Don’t you hear her voice all the time?”

  “Yeah … I hear what she would say. In my head.”

  “We all do. Me and Jack, too.”

  “She did raise all three of us.”

  And only one left to marry off!

  “See?” Matt said. “Didn’t you just hear, ‘and only one left to marry off?’”

  Oliver was quiet. He did just hear that. But that was nuts. “So what are you saying? She’s haunting us?”

  “Yes! Jack and I told her to haunt you some more. Leave us alone for awhile.”

  I can multitask, you know.

  Oliver’s
brows knit together. There was no way … he didn’t believe in that kind of supernatural nonsense. After the past year, he wasn’t even sure he believed in the concept of heaven and hell.

  “So what did she just say?” he asked his brother.

  “She said she can multitask.”

  On the other hand, he was certain that neither he nor Matt were drunk at the moment. Yet they were hearing the same things. Unless he and his brother were engaging in some sort of Vulcan mind meld or telepathic communication.

  Because that’s only slightly less unbelievable.

  “Huh. She was pretty good at multitasking, wasn’t she?” Oliver allowed. Matt jabbed him in the ribs again. “But if you do that again, my fist is going to multitask on your face.”

  No fighting at your brother’s wedding.

  “Go ask your wife to dance,” Matt said.

  What Mattie said.

  His brother snorted a laugh again.

  “I think I will. But don’t follow me.”

  “Wasn’t planning to,” Matt replied.

  “Wasn’t talking to you.”

  When Charlotte Trevor got pulled onto the dance floor, Serena was left standing alone with a flute of champagne she was only pretending to drink. She searched the ballroom for Oliver. They hadn’t spent much time together at the wedding so far. Since Oliver was part of the wedding party, he’d been seated at the head table for the meal. Mason and Cam got assigned to a special kids’ table, which had left Serena sitting with Jackie’s Ohio grandparents and two other couples she didn’t know.

  She spotted Oliver standing with Matt, the two of them apparently deep in conversation. Oliver was frowning. Not a good sign. Now what? Where else was I spotted with Ben? Oliver turned away from Matt, looked around, locked eyes with her, and began heading her way. She watched him warily and set the champagne flute down on the table next to her.

  “Hey there.” He leaned in and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Watching the boys?”

  She nodded, though she hadn’t been. She lifted Cam’s shoes up for him to see. “I’m the keeper of the shoes.”

  They watched the boys dancing for several minutes before Oliver spoke again.

  “Do you remember when we talked about hearing exactly what my mom would say? In our heads?”

  The question caught her off guard. “Um … well … kind of? I mean, I can often imagine what she would say in a given situation.”

  “Jack and Matt think she’s, like, haunting us.”

  “Hmm. Well, it does sound like something she would do. She worried about how you guys were going to manage without her.”

  “You remember that?”

  Serena nodded, thoughtfully. “Although I think she was most worried about your dad.”

  Oliver gazed out over the ballroom, searching for his father. Serena followed his gaze.

  “There he is,” she said, nodding toward the dance floor. “On the other side from the boys.”

  Tim Wolfe was dancing with a tall, willowy blonde wearing glasses. The music was a dance-style pop song, and her father-in-law had a surprising sense of rhythm. Better than Oliver did.

  “Oh shoot,” he said and took a step toward the dance floor.

  Serena grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Dad. He’s dancing with some woman, and mom is here.”

  “What?”

  Surely he didn’t believe that Angie was really haunting them? But the expression on his face said that he most definitely did. She tugged him back. “How much have you had to drink?”

  There was an open bar along the back of the room, and the waiters were rather liberally handing out flutes of champagne. She’d caught Mason angling for one, just in time. But Ollie was never much of a drinker. He’d seen the aftermath of drunk driving too many times.

  “Nothing! I didn’t even finish the champagne after the toast. But dad needs to know that she’s—”

  “Ollie. If your mom is haunting you and your brothers, she’s probably haunting your dad, as well.” Serena didn’t really believe Angie was running around as a ghost. But if it prevented her husband from making an embarrassing scene at his brother’s wedding, she’d say it. Not to mention, Oliver would regret the whole thing. He was not a scene-making kind of man. “Besides, he’s just dancing with a guest. It’s not like he brought a date,” she added.

  Oliver seemed to relax a little at that idea.

  “But who is she?” he asked.

  Serena shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize her.” Which, of course, did not preclude her from being a lifelong resident of St. Caroline.

  “Maybe she crashed the wedding.”

  “Ollie. When was the last time someone crashed a wedding in St. Caroline?”

  “It could happen.”

  “And your mother haunting you could happen, too. But probably not.”

  “No, she really is—”

  She took Oliver’s hand firmly in hers. “Dance with me.” She felt like she was with Mason and Cam, redirecting their attention from something she didn’t want them to see.

  Just as they stepped onto the parquet floor, the deejay cued up a slow song. Perfect. She slipped her arms around Oliver’s waist. She would hold him in place, keep him from bothering his father. Oliver pulled her in close, even as she sensed his attention was still elsewhere. In any case, Tim Wolfe and the woman parted with the opening notes of the slower song. It looked like they thanked each other for the dance and went their separate ways. She felt the tension in Oliver’s body lift.

  Disaster averted. Inwardly Serena rolled her eyes, then let herself sink into the warmth of Oliver’s arms. This was the closest, physically, they’d been to each other in weeks. Oliver was still working long hours … still avoiding her.

  She took a quiet, calming breath and tried to focus on the pleasantness of being in her husband’s strong arms, the comforting warmth of his hand against the small of her back, the scent of his cologne seeping through his white dress shirt.

  “Who sings this song?” he asked.

  She listened to a few more bars. The lyrics and the voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place them. Most people had that problem with songs, though. For once not being able to remember something was not concerning.

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  “Hmm. Maybe it’ll come to me.”

  She didn’t care whether she ever correctly identified this particular song. She could imagine that this situation would have bugged her to no end in the past. But now? It seemed trivial. No, it was trivial. Absolutely trivial. Unless she went on a game show someday, identifying the singer of this song was of no importance to her life.

  What did concern her though—and seemed rather nontrivial, actually—was the idea that Oliver believed his mother was a ghost. She “got” the appeal of believing something like that, especially in the lead up to a wedding. It was too awful to contemplate all the things Angie was going to miss. Not just weddings, but grandchildren, graduations, family holidays. Quilts she never got to make.

  The song was winding down. The singer—whoever he was—was ooh-ooh-oohing his way toward the end.

  If it were Cam or Mason who believed their nana was speaking to them, Serena wouldn’t be bothered. But for Ollie, it was just another way to pretend that his mother wasn’t gone. Another way to avoid dealing with his feelings. She even wondered whether his fixation with Ben Wardman was just another way of avoiding his grief.

  Yup.

  And if Angie really was haunting her sons, surely she would have pointed this out to Oliver by now.

  Chapter 32

  The Monday after the wedding dawned grey and gloomy. Raindrops bounced like jumping beans off the hood of Oliver’s SUV as he drove into work. He rolled down the window a tiny crack so he could hear the thunder rolling in. Every few minutes, the dark sky lit up with a slash of lightning.

  He hoped Mattie hadn’t told anyone at the station about the whole thing with their mother a
t the wedding. He could just hear Matt now. “Guys, you are not going to believe this. I had Oliver believing our mother talks to us from the Great Beyond!”

  His brother got him good—Oliver had to give him props for that. Leave it to Matt to learn how to throw his voice.

  You give your brother way too much credit.

  People didn’t give Matt enough credit sometimes. He was street smart. Wily. If anyone in St. Caroline was going to pick up some ventriloquism tricks, it would be Matt.

  He pulled his car into the station’s parking lot. His dad’s car was already parked in the reserved spot for the fire chief. As the deputy chief, Oliver did not merit a special spot. But hey … at the new station? He’d add that to his wish list for Finn Brody. With a sign and everything. Reserved for O. Wolfe.

  Inside, he flipped on the overhead fluorescent light in his shoebox of an office. Without a window, the room never looked entirely lit up. That was another thing for his wish list. A bigger office. And a window.

  Was that it? Had his station in life just not risen enough for Serena? He was the deputy fire chief, for pete’s sake—didn’t that compare favorably with being a high school science teacher? It had, in fact, involved quite a bit of training—and ongoing training. He had to get recertified as a paramedic every two years.

  Yeah, he knew some people thought he had this job thanks to nepotism. But anyone who knew Tim Wolfe knew that wasn’t the case. If anything, Oliver had to be better than any other candidate because his father expected more of him. More from Jack and Matt, too.

  Serena knew how much training he did, how skilled he was, how hard he worked. The hours he put in at the gym after his shifts were over. She knew all that. But did she remember it? Was he going to have to prove himself to her all over again?

  Maybe?

  Well, he would. He would get the new fire station built, staff it, and run it just as well as his father ran this one. He would lower response times and get the summer residents—and the state government—off the town’s case. Twenty years from now, the new fire station would still be around, proof of Oliver’s industriousness. Twenty years from now, who would still remember a high school science teacher who had lived here all of five years?