by Olivia Miles
Amelia considered the newest option. Corn dogs. Beside Robbie, Keira practically squealed in delight.
“It’s just like a trip to the carnival, Daddy!” She smiled widely as she eagerly reached for a handful to add to her plate. Candy looked on with approval.
Amelia stuffed a cheese biscuit into her mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and turned to go into the living room—and straight into the chest of Matt Bradford.
They stood in the hallway, at the base of the stairs that was lined with all their baby and toddler portraits, and, of course, their parents’ wedding photo.
She attempted to chew the cheese biscuit, but it was large, and soft, and…large. Very, very large.
Matt watched her with a strange sort of interest, waiting patiently for her to finish, rather than move aside, or let her dash away, or perhaps hand her a napkin, which she could have used to shield her face, which was now burning with embarrassment.
She attempted to move the biscuit to her cheek, but the bulge it created downright hurt, and now she could see that Matt was struggling not to laugh.
“It’s not funny,” she tried to say, but now he was laughing, and she was laughing too, not because this was the second time he’d caught her stuffing her face, but because all of this was different. And wrong. And if her mother were here, there would be no cheese biscuit crammed in her mouth at all. They’d all be seated, at the table, with napkins in their laps. Cloth napkins.
And because if she didn’t laugh, she actually feared she might cry.
“Why don’t I turn my back until you’ve finished?” Matt offered.
At that, she swatted him, and managed to get down the rest of the biscuit. That was it. She wasn’t eating any more tonight, no matter how much Candy insisted that she did.
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” she said, not that she minded, she realized. Sure, Matt might not be someone she should pin her hopes to, but right now he was a distraction, and a positive one. And he was a reminder of the way things used to be, back before everything changed for the worse. Having him here, in her childhood home, felt good. Better than good. It felt comforting, stabilizing. And right. “Did Britt invite you?”
All of the Bradfords were here of course. She should have expected that Matt would come, too.
Still, she’d have words with Britt about that later. The least her sister could have done was tip her off! She could have borrowed another dress from Maddie. Done something with her hair. Fixed the chipped remnants of last weekend’s manicure, when hope had felt so alive.
Now she felt no such hope. At least…she didn’t dare to. But from the way Matt was looking her, intensely, as if there was something he wanted to say, she started to wonder if she had given up too soon.
Or if, maybe, she had a bit of cheese biscuit stuck to her mouth.
“Candy actually invited me.” He grinned. Broadly. As if that was that.
And really, wasn’t it?
“Ah, so you’ve met my father’s girlfriend.” Amelia suppressed a smile and nodded slowly.
“Oh yes. She was in town, passing out flyers, wanted me to vote for your café in some…contest?”
Amelia’s eyes hooded. “She didn’t.”
The grin on Matt’s face didn’t slip. “Oh, she did. Actually, she stood and waited for me to log in to the voting site on my phone, and then she checked my vote for added measure.”
Amelia’s mouth went dry and it had nothing to do with Candy’s cheese biscuit and everything to do with her behavior. “I am very sorry about that. I had no idea she was taking it upon herself to do that. I’ll talk to her.”
“If you do, you should tell her thank you! She’s a real cheerleader for you.” He gave her a wry smile.
Amelia felt her tension fade away. “I guess I’m lucky to have her in my corner. My dad is too.” She stared down at her plate of food. His cholesterol was another matter…
“So what was this contest? To be honest, Candy was talking so quickly, I was half-expecting her to take my phone from my hand and just vote for me.” He laughed, but Amelia still struggled to find this funny. She could only hope that the rest of the town was as patient as Matt.
Or as supportive of her business as she’d known them to always be.
“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head, even though, really, it was something, and now that she’d entered her recipe, photos, and a paragraph about what made Firefly so special, she couldn’t help but think of how let down she’d be if she didn’t win.
She looked at Matt, thinking about his meeting with the mayor and the fact that she still didn’t know for certain how it went, though seeing as he was still in town, she had more reason to think that it had been a good meeting. Maybe even promising.
Maybe the mayor agreed with Matt. Felt change was necessary to carry Blue Harbor into the future. The council would have to put it to a vote, she knew, but the mayor held a lot of weight. With the right support, Matt would have his resort.
And then…Amelia didn’t know. She supposed that she’d adjust, just as she always had. And truth be told, it might be nice to have Matt in town a little more often. If not permanently.
So long as her business was intact, she supposed that was really all she should worry about. And if she won the contest, she’d have bragging rights and added security.
“Didn’t seem like nothing to Candy,” Matt said, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh, she gets excited about everything,” Amelia said. She wouldn’t be pushed into discussing the contest. She’d learned not to set her hopes too high, especially when it was something that she cared about.
Like the man standing in front of her, she thought.
Note taken.
“It’s a recipe contest, really,” she said, even though it was oh so much more than that. She handed him the plate. “Here. Have a cheese biscuit. They’re Candy’s signature dish.”
His eyes gleamed when he glanced down at the pile and back up at her. “You mean you don’t want another?”
“No,” she said firmly.
“But you must have at least six here. You were hungry.” He cocked an eyebrow. His eyes positively shone.
She narrowed her gaze on him, just as Candy came swishing into the hallway. It was only then that Amelia did a double take at Candy’s outfit. The apron she wore gave the distinct impression that there might not be any shirt beneath it, and she didn’t know if she was relieved or horrified to realize that Candy was wearing a bright pink tube top with her white pants.
“So you came,” Candy winked at Matt and gave Amelia a nudge with her elbow that could have easily toppled her over. Luckily, the banister was within short reach.
Candy didn’t even notice. She was too busy roving her eyes over Matt, taking him in, even though she’d no doubt formed her opinion yesterday when she’d all but accosted him on the street.
“When I heard that Amelia’s childhood sweetheart was back in town, well, I just had to make it my mission to find him!”
Oh, please don’t. Please, no. Amelia hoped her gaze conveyed her silent pleas, but unlike her sisters would have been, Candy was oblivious.
She linked her arm with Matt, who gamely went along with it. His grin was positively wicked now.
“It isn’t everyday that you have a second chance with your first love, now is it?” Candy didn’t wait for a reply before adding, “And I just know that Amelia has been cooped up in that café and in desperate need for a man to get her out into the land of the living!”
Her heart lurched. “Well, now, Candy. I have dated—”
But Candy wasn’t finished. “And what about you, Matt? You are single, right?”
Matt did his best to give the most serious nod. “Yes, Candy. I am unattached.”
Now Candy looked at him suspiciously. “But you’re not like your cousin Jackson, are you? You know, one of those guys who is determined to never settle down and experience the joy that can only come from the long-term love of
a good woman?”
Now it was Amelia’s turn to stifle a laugh. Matt looked as if he had swallowed one of Candy’s famous cheese biscuits whole.
“I’d say I’m a little more like Robbie,” Matt finally said, and Candy positively beamed as she turned to look at Amelia head on.
“You two have fun then,” she said, giving Amelia a less than subtle wink.
“Well, I’m certainly having fun. Are you having fun?” Matt laughed as Candy disappeared into the dining room.
“Ha ha,” Amelia said, but she was smiling for real now. “I’m sort of partied out, honestly.”
“Are you suggesting that I take you out into the land of the living?” he asked, and before she could even swat him, his shoulders started shaking with laughter.
“She’s sweet,” he said, giving her a knowing look.
“Sweet? Or pushy?” Amelia dragged out a sigh.
Matt nodded to the door. “We could head out for a bit. Take a walk before the cake is cut?”
She held in a breath, knowing that her sisters would practically be pushing her out that front door rather than asking her to stay back. And Candy…Well, Candy would throw her out of the house if she could.
But Candy didn’t have all the facts. And neither did her sisters.
And really, neither did she. She just knew that Matt had a vision that didn’t match hers. But they shared a past. One that was comforting and familiar. One that had meant a great deal to her and still did.
Just like a part of him still did.
11
The party had spilled out onto the backyard, where friends and family had gathered at picnic tables and sat in Adirondack chairs overlooking the lake. Amelia knew that if she lingered too long that someone would be bound to spot her and call out to her, and then, another opportunity would be lost.
She was happy to see that Matt walked in the opposite direction of the yard, cutting through the yard of the house next door, which was a summer cottage and currently unoccupied by its now Florida resident owners—even though Amelia’s father had been telling the neighbors for years that they should rent it out when they weren’t visiting.
“Thanks,” she said, once she had glanced over her shoulder and was certain that they were in the clear. The shore was rocky on this part of the coastline, and she expertly dodged the larger boulders as they walked along the natural terrain. “It was getting a little…overwhelming back there.”
He studied her sidelong. “How so?”
Amelia sighed, not sure if she even wanted to get into it, but her heart was heavy and she knew that it would stay on her mind if she didn’t speak up. And if there was anyone who might understand how she felt other than her sisters, it was Matt. He’d been there when her mother was alive, and he’d been there when she was gone.
And he’d now experienced the pleasure of not one but two encounters with Candy, and one was usually enough to form a strong opinion.
Despite herself, Amelia felt a smile pull at her frown.
“It’s not easy being back in the house now that it’s all…different.” She glanced up at him, wondering if he would understand, and from the resigned look to his eyes, she knew that he did. “Every time I walk through the doors, or around a corner, I expect to see my mother, sitting in her favorite armchair, or standing at the kitchen counter, looking out the window. Her photos are still on the walls. Everything is really just like it always was in many ways. Except, it’s not.”
“Do you mean because of Candy?” Despite the sobering conversation, she caught the glimmer in his eyes.
She gave a little smile. “No. Yes. I mean, it’s been different for a while. From the moment she was gone. Now I suppose it just feels more permanent. At least before, we still upheld our family traditions. Now Candy’s putting a new spin on things.”
“I think she wants you to like her,” Matt said, giving her a lopsided grin.
“I know, and I do like her. It’s just going to be an adjustment.” She sighed. “Sometimes it feels like that’s how it always is. One change after another. Don’t you sometimes wish that you could just freeze time, and keep things exactly as they are for a while?”
She glanced up at him and their eyes locked for one telling moment, long enough to make her heart start to beat a little faster. She would freeze this moment, if she could. When it was just Matt and her, and the great big lake spread out before them, and everything felt like it should be. That she could trust him. That she knew him. That the world may keep changing, but that they were the same two people so long as they were together.
She looked away, pulling in a breath. “It sounds silly, probably. Here I am, thirty years old, and my mother has been gone for nearly half my life. You would think I’d be used to it by now.”
“It’s not that simple, I know,” Matt said, his voice low and gentle.
Amelia felt the hot tears burn the backs of her eyes, and she blinked hard out onto the water. “You can’t go back,” she said quietly. “No matter how much you wish for it.”
“No,” Matt said, gruffly. “You can’t.”
She looked up at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone, to see him staring out over the water, his jaw squared, his eyes focused on something other than Evening Island, she knew.
Finally, he said, “It wasn’t easy for me to go back into my house the other day either.”
Amelia closed her eyes, feeling bad for her part in it, and set a hand on his arm. Damn. It felt good. His skin was warm under her palm, and soft, familiar, and she wanted to stay like this, just for a little while, only she wasn’t sure that it was her place anymore. Or if he even wanted that.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just…” Well, she’d been trying to convince him of something she wanted. Something he had once wanted, too.
But that was a long time ago, and it was easy to lose sight of all the years that had gone by. Too easy.
He shook his head, brushing off her concern, and she let her arm drop. “It’s fine. Really. I needed to see it eventually, and I probably would have gone by at some point on my visit out of curiosity. And it might have been worse if it was full of someone else’s furniture and family photos.”
Amelia understood that all too well. “That’s how it feels with Candy, I suppose. She’s a good person. Kind-hearted. She has the best intentions, and I know you’re right that she just wants us to like her. She makes my dad really happy.” She was trying to convince herself, she knew. She could hear the insistence in her tone, trying to tell her that she had no reason to feel so conflicted about this woman as she did.
“But she’s not your mother,” Matt observed.
“Exactly,” Amelia said quietly. Her sandals were growing muddy, so she stopped to remove them. The water was cold as it splashed over her toes, but she didn’t mind it. It reminded her of all those happy, summer days, when she stood barefoot in this sand, staring out over the lake. Days filled with her mother, her sisters.
And later, with Matt.
She looked over at him, catching the pensive knit of his brow, the way his hair rustled in the breeze, and even though more than twelve years had passed since they had both stood like this, side by side, facing the water, it felt like no time had gone by at all. That she was still the same girl she had been back then: heartbroken, a little lost, determined to get through each day as best she could because she didn’t know what alternative there was.
Maybe, she thought, he was still the same boy.
Or maybe, that was just wishful thinking.
“You asked me the other day if I had ever thought about leaving Blue Harbor,” she said. “And the truth of it is that I did. Sometimes. I mean, it’s a small town, and I’ve lived here all my life. I thought about going somewhere else, just for a change of scenery.”
“You have family here,” he said.
She nodded. “Yes, but…maybe it was just an easy excuse, you know? It’s not easy to go out into the world and try some
thing new. I give you a lot of credit for that, Matt. It couldn’t have been easy to start over, halfway through your senior year of high school, in a city where you didn’t know anyone.”
He pulled in a breath, growing quiet for a moment. “It was pretty damn hard,” he said with a small smile, but there was sadness in his eyes, something that looked an awful lot like pain.
He picked up a rock and skipped it over the surface of the water. It was a skill she’d never been able to master, despite hours upon hours of trying in her lifetime.
“To be honest, though, it was just as hard to come back here.”
She looked at him in surprise. His eyes were fixed on the water, or something in the distance. Or maybe a memory. Something she hadn’t been a part of.
“But you had family here, too. And friends.” And me, she thought to herself. She’d been here all this time.
“It wasn’t the same. No one could understand. Not even my cousins or aunt and uncle.”
She couldn’t help but feel hurt by his words. “Not even me?” She stared at him, challenging him, until he met her gaze, his expression reluctant. “I might have understood. I still can.”
He hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. “I loved this town. I loved my life. And then, one day, it was gone. The house was being foreclosed on and the business was gone and my parents were arguing all the time and my mom was always crying. And then we had to pack up and leave. And everyone else got to stay. And I was angry. I was so angry. Angry at my parents. Angry at the new school and having to be there. Angry that my dad lost his business.”
She nodded slowly. She understood. It was how she felt when her mom got sick. How she felt in those long, dark weeks and months after her mother was gone, when she saw other classmates shopping in town with their mothers. She stopped going to friends’ homes, because it hurt too much to see their mothers welcome her inside, always with a touch more kindness than before, but still, a reminder that when she went home she would not find her mother there with a tired smile after a long day. She’d thrown herself into her home life, into the comfort of a routine, and she’d held onto Matt, the bright spot in a dark time.