Ella remembered that grin, and a burst of warmth shot through her along with a quick pang of sadness. So many years. Pausing a minute to compose herself, she asked, “I take it you weren’t expecting to stay on so long?”
“I thought a couple of weeks would be enough, but then it became obvious that Dad wasn’t recuperating as quickly as we expected. That’s when I persuaded Grace she should come home, too.” His grin reappeared. “To be honest, I was hoping she and I could switch places and I’d go back to Augusta. But it didn’t work out that way.”
“What happened to make you stay?”
“When I realized Dad wouldn’t be going back to work right away, I took over the business. In fact it was my mother who asked me to step in, not Dad. I think he was sore at her for days after. Admitting any kind of weakness is anathema to him. The move was supposed to be temporary, but now it feels permanent.”
Amy arrived with their drinks, and Ella waited until she’d left to ask, “How did you feel about that? Coming back and running the company?”
“At first I was in shock. Not just from realizing that Dad wasn’t the same strong father I knew but also guessing my life in Augusta would change.”
“How so?” Ella was particularly interested in what he’d left behind in Augusta.
“I reevaluated my career with the architectural firm where I’d been working since graduation. It was family run, with plenty of ‘heir apparents.’ The chances of being made a partner were nil. At the same time, my marriage was breaking up.” He paused to drink some beer. “The divorce was pretty much a cliché, which I won’t bore you with, except to say it wasn’t a surprise for either of us.” He set his beer glass down. “And what about you? I know you’re a reporter for the Globe and that you’re also divorced.”
She hadn’t told Grace she was divorced, so he’d been searching the internet. Ella sipped her wine. Where to start and how much to say? Realistically, this game of catchup was a pointless exercise. Tomorrow she’d be gone and none of what they were sharing tonight would matter. On the other hand, the talk could be a warm-up to her main goal of the evening—getting an apology or even an explanation from him for abandoning her that Labor Day weekend.
“Same old story.” She looked at him over the rim of her wineglass. “And a boring one. I graduated in Journalism from NYU, interned at the Globe during summer vacations—we always lived in Boston—then started there as a rookie after graduation. Worked my way up to reporter and got married along the way. The reporting part was a success, but the marriage not so much.” She gave a quick shrug. “All water under the bridge now, as they say. Currently, I’m writing weekly op-ed pieces while I’m on tour with my book, and I hope to continue doing a column when I go back.”
“Will you also continue writing novels?”
He knew her too well. Or perhaps he was simply remembering the teen version of Ella Jacobs, the one who’d shown him her creative writing, or “scribbling” as she’d called it. “Maybe.”
Amy brought their chowder, and Ella was grateful for the chance to shift away from her future plans. Besides, even if she knew what those plans were, there was no reason to share them with Ben. “Delicious,” she murmured after her first mouthful.
His smile was faint. Ella guessed he was struggling to keep up with her mood changes, from being chatty to clamming up. That was okay. She wanted to keep this uncertainty about her as a distraction, so that when she did get around to asking why he’d abandoned her that summer, she might get an honest answer from him.
Their main courses arrived, and Ben thanked Amy and complimented the food almost profusely, something Ella doubted he usually did, considering he probably ate the same thing every time. Amy’s dimpled smile seemed to confirm Ella’s impression that the woman was interested in Ben Winters. Good luck there, she thought, noting the warmth in Ben’s eyes was friendly but nothing more. She’d always been good at reading him.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish this.” She eyed the sandwich and mound of french fries.
“Lunch tomorrow?”
“To eat in my car on the way to Boston?”
“Right.” His dark eyes searched hers. “This visit seems so short.”
Visit? We’re not exactly old friends having a reunion, she was tempted to say. But she shrugged. “Part of the plan.” She bit into a large morsel of shrimp and chewed slowly. The sandwich was delicious. Maybe she could finish it after all.
Ben tucked into his meal as if enjoying it for the first time and not the umpteenth. They ate without further talk until she surrendered to reality. “I’m done. I can’t take a single bite more.”
“Same here.”
She looked at his half-eaten sandwich. “Seriously?”
His smile was sheepish now. “Cutting back. My life in the Cove isn’t as active as it was back in Augusta.” He pushed his plate aside and leaned forward. “I meant it about staying on, Ella. It would be fun to show you around town a bit more, and there will be some festivities at the tree ceremony Saturday night. Christmas is a side of the Cove you’ve never seen. I know Gracie would be thrilled.”
And what about you, Ben? Would you be thrilled? was her immediate thought, and the earnest appeal in his dark eyes and his hands folded on the table in front of him, so close she could touch them if she dared, momentarily upturned her intended outcome for that night. She waited for her heart rate to return to normal. “Speaking of plans, Grace told me about Brandon’s memorial.”
She might as well have tossed a bucket of cold water into his face. He straightened up and reached for his drink. “Then she also told you what she did,” he said after swallowing the last of his beer.
“Yes.” This was the opening of a conversation she’d been anticipating since accepting Grace’s invite, but he was taking his time. She stifled her impatience.
“How did you feel about her confession?” he finally asked.
Did he want the truth or a nice, evasive answer? His face wasn’t giving anything away. “How do you think I felt, Ben?”
He shifted his gaze to a place beyond her and rubbed a finger across his forehead. Then his eyes met hers. Ella saw misery in them and sadness. But not remorse.
“Anger at first,” he said in a low voice. “Disappointment in her later. You two were close back then, right?” He paused. “I guess you must have felt a whole range of emotions, too—some of them conflicting.” Another beat. “But now I’m hoping you’ll eventually be able to forgive her, even if you can’t forget. She’s suffered in ways neither you nor I can imagine.”
Grace was my best friend and not the only one who suffered. She stifled her irritation and stared down at the worn surface of the wood table. Suddenly she felt the warmth of his hand on her forearm.
“Maybe an extra day or two will give us the time we need to talk. To lay to rest all of our sad memories...or try to anyway.”
Ella wanted desperately to believe that was possible. She hesitated, knowing a frank talk would inevitably end any chance of a reconciliation with Ben. But his hopeful face touched her. “I don’t really have the right clothes for a longer stay,” she murmured for want of anything better to say.
“We could drive to Portland tomorrow to pick up whatever you need.”
He sounded optimistic, but her mind filled with all the reasons in the world why this was not such a good idea. Still, her heart refused to listen. She managed a tentative smile. “I’ll think about it.”
CHAPTER SIX
BEN MUDDLED HIS way through the first part of the morning. He’d gotten out of bed well before sunrise. Despite tiptoeing down to the kitchen from his bedroom, he wasn’t surprised to find his mother sitting at the bistro table, drinking coffee and thumbing through the daily Portland Press Herald, which had probably just landed on their doorstep. Raising children had instilled this early-morning habit.
“Ben!” she
exclaimed, looking up from the paper. “I know it’s a weekday, but—”
“Couldn’t get back to sleep after waking up around four.” He went to the coffee machine on the counter by the stove, where two empty mugs sat waiting for him and his father. There were some benefits to moving back home as an adult, he conceded.
“Something on your mind?”
He sighed as he poured milk into his mug. And then there were drawbacks, too. “Oh, this and that.”
She wasn’t deterred. “If it has to do with your funding problems or the disagreement with your father over the subdivision—”
“It’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry about all that. I’ve got some ideas.” He saw her wince slightly at his sharp tone and regretted being so touchy. Yesterday’s meeting hadn’t encroached on his sleep at all. What had really kept him tossing and turning had been Ella’s lovely and very enigmatic face. But he couldn’t open up to his mother. She didn’t know Ella Jacobs was back in town, and there was no way he was going to be the person to pass on that explosive bit of news. No. Grace created the situation and she could deal with it. But keeping that from his mother added to his grumpiness. He stood at the counter and swallowed as much of the hot coffee as possible before setting the mug into the sink. “Okay, well, I’m off.”
“But you haven’t had any breakfast!”
Another point for the drawback side. Still, he smiled because his mother was wonderful and just being...well, motherly. “I’ll pick up something on the way, Mom. I’m not going to go hungry.” He patted his abdomen and grinned.
“Something with protein,” she added as he made for the hall outside the kitchen.
“Yep,” he called back. Maybe only half a point for the drawback team with that, because she was right. The house was silent as he walked through the ground floor to the front door. His father had begun sleeping late after his surgery. Although it had been successful, Ben knew—as did everyone else in the family—that Charles’s physical stamina wasn’t the same. As for the man’s mental stamina, Ben could only smile. Keeping a sense of humor about his predicament was vital, though he wouldn’t want to place a bet on how much longer he could maintain that attitude.
There had been a light snowfall overnight, and he turned over the engine to warm up the car before clearing the windshield and windows. He gazed up at the dark sky. Clouds had also drifted in, hiding any stars and even the moon. The shortest day of the year was coming up, and considering the amount of work ahead of him, Ben doubted he’d be leaving for the office in daylight for a very long time. He didn’t like winter very much and never had, even as a kid. Grace had been the one who’d wanted to play outside and build forts or go skating at Town Square.
He climbed into the car, clicked on the seat warmer and headed for the road leading to the highway. A new outlet of a national fast-food chain had recently opened up just southwest of the Cove, on the highway to Portland. Judging by the lineup of vehicles at the drive-through, the place was already a booming success. Ben was happy about that—he assumed many of these customers came from the subdivision. Perhaps they’d tell their friends and colleagues about the conveniences of living a short drive from Portland, where rent and house prices had skyrocketed.
When his car rolled up to the drive-through window, Ben scrolled through the menu choices and clicked on the egg sandwich. In less than five minutes, he was heading back toward the Cove and the modular unit off the highway that was his office. It sat where it had been constructed two years ago, at the entrance to the subdivision. The company had intended the site to be temporary but kept it there with the hope that the slowdown in sales would change.
Though Ben figured if the dozen unsold houses eventually did go, and if he secured the investments he needed and his application to build the condo unit down the road was approved, he’d have the office relocated to the new construction site. More ifs, he thought. The most important one being if Dad lets me take over.
He swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and had another slurp of coffee, but his thoughts weren’t on breakfast. The whole dinner scene with Ella resurfaced. Trying to make sense of the night was what had kept him awake for most of it. The way her moods kept switching from friendliness to silence had his emotions yo-yoing along at the same time.
When he’d walked her back to the hotel, after she’d declined his invite for a nightcap at a nearby bar, he’d been doubtful about her staying for the tree lighting. Still, when he’d made his last-ditch plea—Text me in the morning if you decide to stay—her nod had given him an iota of hope. He wasn’t ready to give up on her yet.
The sun had risen by the time he reached the office. At least, what passed for a sun on what promised to be another gray and gloomy day. Much like his mood. Andy hadn’t arrived yet, but Ben was surprised to find the company’s new bookkeeper sitting at one of the four desks.
“Glen!” Ben closed the door behind him and stomped his feet on the mat just inside. He ought to have worn boots but couldn’t be bothered lacing them up and bringing shoes to change into. A random thought of Ella’s fancy but inappropriate footwear reminded him of his promise to drive her to the Portland Mall if she chose to stay.
If. That word again. He sighed as he hung his jacket on one of the hooks behind the door. “Glen, I know I said I needed some numbers for the presentation, but I didn’t mean you had to get here at the crack of dawn to go through the books.”
Glen Kowalski looked up with an unconvincing smile. “Yeah, well, I was up anyway. At five again this morning.”
Ben felt for him. Glen and his wife had a one-month-old baby as well as a toddler. “I’ve been told things get better after a few months, but what do I know?” Ben quipped.
“We thought it would be easier the second time around, but...”
Andy had confided that Glen’s infant daughter had some potential medical problems, which were presently being investigated. Ben didn’t know if the matter was a secret or not but decided to be discreet and leave it up to Glen to divulge any personal issues. “Well, let me know if you want to take some time off. I can get Andy to look at the books instead.”
Glen shook his head. “Appreciate it, Ben, but frankly, I can’t afford to take the time. I’ve already used up my sick days for this quarter.”
He managed a smile, but Ben saw through it. The benefit program that employees paid into and was matched by the company wasn’t extensive. Ben knew many of his workers would need to supplement with private insurance. Perhaps he ought to review the benefits. Then he realized he didn’t actually have the authority to do so, because his role in the company was temporary and unofficial. Frustration rose up. Face it, Winters. If you want the situation to change, you have to make that happen yourself.
“I’ll see what I can do. But seriously, take the time. We can work out some kind of flexible schedule if necessary,” he added at the man’s drawn face.
The door flew open then, ending further talk about Glen’s problems. “Meant to get here earlier, Ben,” Andy said as he unzipped his jacket. “Oh hi, Glen. Early morning again for you?” He bent down to remove his boots and slipped on a pair of loafers from the shoe rack, just below the coat hooks.
Ben eyed the cramped winter gear arrangement, thinking if they did move the unit to the condo site, perhaps a closet should be installed. As it was, they had to pile hard hats and safety vests on the counter beside the microwave and sink. The place was too small, he realized, and he envisioned yet another expense in the near future. More issues and no real power to deal with them. He stifled a sigh and said, “Andy, let’s sit down and go over the presentation from yesterday. I want your thoughts on how to improve it for my meeting with the bank next week.”
* * *
ELLA WOKE LATE. That’s what came from ruminating over every spoken word last night and chastising herself for not getting Ben to explain why he hadn’t come to see her that Labor Day weekend befo
re she and her family left. Her reference to the memorial project, intended to elicit what she’d been waiting for, had led to Grace’s apology but not a hint of one from Ben last night. As if he’d forgotten all about his abandoning her. And she’d taken the coward’s way out, avoiding a confrontation, because deep inside, she feared the truth. The more she considered the possibility he could have forgotten what happened back then, the more she disliked the logical response—to go back to Boston. What was she waiting for here? A lame “I’m sorry if I hurt you”? Would that make her feel better or compensate for all those years she nurtured her resentment against both Grace and Ben? No. She wanted something more. She wanted Ben to feel what she’d felt.
But so far she hadn’t come up with a way to make that happen. As she pushed open the hotel’s front door to go for breakfast, another woman was entering. Ella caught a glimpse of long reddish hair beneath a winter hat as the woman suddenly pivoted as if to speak. Ella hesitated on the other side of the door. There was something familiar about the woman staring at her, and if Ella had been anywhere else but the Cove, she might have opened the door and asked, “Do I know you?” But except for Ben and Grace, there wasn’t another person in town she wanted to meet. The woman continued on and so did Ella, heading for Mabel’s.
Finishing up her breakfast of fruit and yogurt with a side of freshly baked croissants, Ella thought about the past two days. They’d been emotional but not traumatic. Although she felt some skepticism about the sincerity of Grace’s apology—no one had forced her to do what she did—she could accept it at face value, given how the tragedy had affected Grace.
Grace had moved on and found someone to love her while Ella was left with no one. Her brief marriage had confirmed for her there could be no replacement for Ben Winters. Despite the therapeutic act of writing a book, all the feelings from that summer still hovered, pouncing on her at random times. The morning’s encounter at the hotel with that familiar woman was a good example of how paranoid she was becoming about confrontations. After she paid her bill, she headed for Grace’s bookstore to say goodbye.
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