by Holly Kerr
No one notices me as I push open the door to her room only to find Annabelle isn’t in her bed.
Both beds are full, and neither patient looks anything like Annabelle. I back slowly out of the room and check the number on the door to make sure I’m in the right place.
Room 619 has always been Annabelle’s room.
I go straight to the nurse’s station, worry clawing at my insides. “Annabelle Abbott,” I rasp. “What room is she in now?”
The nurse, one I’ve never seen before, narrows her eyes. “Are you family?”
Another nurse, the gray-hair stern one I remember from past visits steps forward and puts a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “I’ve got this. You were Annabelle’s boyfriend, weren’t you?’
“Fiancé. I was here the other day. No one said anything about her being moved.”
“Have you spoken to the Abbotts recently?” the nurse asks, her gentle voice a contrast to the hard-ass warden I’ve witnessed. “I think this is something you need to speak to them about.”
“What happened?” Things click into place at her use of the word were. “Oh, god, is she…?”
“Annabelle passed away four days ago. Just after your last visit,” the nurse says sadly.
“She died.” My voice is hollow as I stare at the closed door of what used to be Annabelle’s room. “She’s really gone?”
“I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you.” She lays a sympathetic hand on my arm. “You know as well as anyone that there wasn’t much hope of Annabelle ever waking up.”
“I know. But still…” I trail off, unable to finish a thought.
She’s gone. The woman I had once loved is really gone.
“It’s still a shock.” The nurse gives me a grim-lipped smile. “I’m a little surprised that the family didn’t tell you.”
“I haven’t spoken to them in over a year,” I admit. “I came in on my own. They never stopped me, but I don’t think they saw the point of me coming in.”
“I don’t see why not. You must have loved her very much.”
“She cheated on me. Did you know that?”
The nurse blinks with surprise at my suddenly hard tone. “I didn’t, no.”
“I’m not sure why you would. So, yes, I did love her—once. But that kind of died when I found out she was with another man. And then they got into an accident and I’ll never know why she was with him. I think that’s why I kept coming back. I wanted her to wake up and tell me why. What was wrong with me? That’s pretty selfish, isn’t it?” I finish, squeezing the back of my neck tightly, to stop the surge of frustration from welling up.
“I don’t think it’s selfish to want to know the truth,” the nurse says slowly. “But are you sure there wasn’t a simple explanation for them being together?”
Slowly, I shake my head. “I’ve waited almost three years, and have done everything I could to find out the truth. The only thing I’ve discovered is that my fiancée was very secretive. That doesn’t bode well for a marriage, doesn’t it?”
The nurse gives a quick shake of her head. “I’m sorry for your loss. Not just Annabelle, but the time spent waiting for answers. No one should have to go through that.”
“No.”
“You need someone open and honest,” she adds with a rueful smile.
For some reason that makes me think of Ruthie.
“Maybe I do,” I agree. “Thank you.” Surprising both of us, I stoop and hug her tightly. “Happy New Year,” I say to cover the awkwardness.
“Same to you.”
With heavy feet, I head back down to where my mother waits for me, finished with the doctor and chatting with the nurses. Not to worry her, I smooth my expression so she can’t see that anything is wrong. “Ready to go?” I ask.
“Oh, Trev, I want you to meet—” she begins, gesturing to a young woman in the waiting room.
“Maybe another time,” I interrupt and wheel her out of the room before she can finish.
Chapter Twenty
Ruthie
It takes some work to convince Flora to let me take over Fleur while she’s away.
“What about the other job?” Flora demands. “Your spa job.”
“The term is esthetician,” I say in a haughty voice. “I’m trained and have a certificate for it. Somewhere.”
Flora raises her hand. “I’m not down on your job but I don’t want you to bail on it. Do you have any shifts scheduled?”
“A couple for next weekend but I can reschedule them if you need me.”
“I should be okay.”
I’m surprised how much I want to work for her. To tell the truth, I really don’t want to work, but the thought of having a purpose, some responsibility, sounds really good. Plus, even though I promised Flora to stop living my life for my mother, I’d love to show Annette that someone has faith in me. If she notices, that is. I know my father will notice if I step up for Flora, and that will make him proud. That will have to be enough.
Maybe if I can prove myself they can find a place for me in the new nursery.
I picture a corner full of colourful vintage stuff for gardens—empty milk cans, painted and buffed, glass bottles for vases and containers. Even an old bike, hung on a wall with flowers spilling out of a basket.
And patio furniture—what about real furniture? An old, comfortably stuffed couch on a back deck overlooking lush gardens? Flora can do the landscaping, and I could add the little details.
I excitedly tell Flora some of my ideas. “You sound more like a designer or maybe a stylist,” she says with unmasked admiration. “I think maybe that’s what I’ve been missing.”
“Everyone needs more Ruthie,” I say.
“Maybe I do. But look,” her tone changes to serious. “I love the thought of you working here, but I can’t have you running off after some guy after a week. I’m not your father—I don’t have countless employees to fill in.”
“I won’t run off,” I promise.
“What’s the longest time you’ve held a job?”
“I’ve been working for Dad at the nursery since I was fifteen.”
“On and off doesn’t count. As much as I love you, you’re not exactly a stable employee.”
“Maybe I can start to be.”
Flora narrows her eyes at me. “Why?”
“Because it would help you.”
“It didn’t help your father when you ran off after you met that guy on a bus a couple of months ago.”
I wave my hand. “He didn’t mean anything. And really, neither did the job. Mom made Dad hire me because she knew I’d eventually blow it off because I was bored. I just showed her she’s right about me. And I’m done with that.” I prop my elbows on the counter. “Let’s talk more about me working here.”
“You really want to?” Flora asks skeptically.
“I really do. I’m in the city for a while, got a great place to live.” I smile winningly and see Flora start to soften. “Honestly, I have no desire to go back home for a while. I like being here. I get to see you and M.K. whenever I want, not just when I can catch a ride back home with you.”
“You really need to get your license,” she says.
“Maybe now is a good time for you to finish teaching me. Please, auntie?” I wheedle. “I really want to be able to help you out. You’ve done so much for me.”
Flora rears back. “Where’d that come from?”
“Well, you have.”
“Yes, I have, and so have you, but we never get mushy about it.”
I push off from the counter. “I’ll stop being mushy if you let me work here.”
Flora throws up her arms. “When can I ever say no to you? Of course you can work here. You’d be doing me a huge favour, but I won’t hesitate to fire you if you mess up. Okay?”
“I won’t let you down,” I promise. And for once, I mean it.
After I leave Fleur, I have nowhere to go but to walk back to M.K.’s. It’s a clear, crisp day with
a sky as brilliantly blue as it is cold.
If I’m going to be working at Fleur, I’d better get used to the walk.
A bus rumbles by, sending a spray of frozen slush my way.
I could take the bus. But today, I decide the walk is good for me.
It doesn’t take long for my coffee to cool in the winter air. I finish quickly and pitch the cup into a garbage can as I pass by. Then I pull out my phone and begin to scroll through my Instagram feed, dividing my attention between the screen and the patches of slick ice on the sidewalk.
The pictures I posted yesterday after go-karting have gotten a gratifying number of likes and comments, ranging from He’s a cutie, to Great hair!! and Where’s Colton?
The answer to that is found in a few swipes, when a picture of Colton and a tiny, dark-haired girl catches my eye. Looking closer at the picture, I recognize Shae, Adam’s friend from Flora’s party.
Obviously, Colton was going to move on, but did it have to happen so fast?
When I stop at the red light to cross Mount Pleasant, I take a moment to search up Trev. He’s the first man I’ve been involved with who hasn’t given me all his social media info.
Correction. I’m not involved with him. That much is clear and it’s something I’ll do well to remember.
I conveniently don’t remind myself that it’s my fault.
There are a few Trevor Cains on Instagram, but none of them are my Trev. It’s not surprising since Trev doesn’t seem like the type to religiously follow social media like some.
Like me.
Trev’s life is private. For the first time, I have a sense of unease. What will he think of it? My life has been spread out on social media for years and I’ve never given a thought to those who might keep things to themselves. My life is right there in front of the world and for the first time, I wonder if that’s the best idea.
Especially since I don’t want the world to know that I now have a big crack in my heart.
Looking up, I see the flashing hand telling me to hurry. I’ve zoned out on Instagram and almost missed the chance to cross. As I hurry across, my thoughts are still on Trev.
Maybe he was right; maybe I do live my life like a reality show. Working for Flora will be a good start. I need to tell Trev about my job.
As my boot touches the curb, I spin around and run back across the busy street, just as the light turns green. Horns angrily honk as I dart out of the way.
I need to tell Trev more than just about my job. I need to tell him not to meet anyone else.
The knowledge that I don’t want Trev talking or laughing with another woman hits me like stepping into an icy puddle. I don’t want him on another date. To make it worse, I don’t want to be on another date, at least not with someone who isn’t Trev.
I have to run back to Fleur because I have no contact number for Trev. Hopefully Flora will know how to get hold of him.
Or maybe Dean will. I veer off and head to Flora’s house, hoping Dean will be there.
Trev
“What’s wrong?”
It’s the third time my mother has asked since we left the hospital and I still don’t know what to tell her.
Annabelle’s passing will have little impact on my mother. She’ll worry about me, peppering her sympathy with comments about how I should have moved on years ago, and push me to set up a date with someone she suggests.
I don’t want to go out with anyone she suggests. I want to go out with Ruthie.
She may drive me crazy, but it doesn’t deny that I’m crazy about her. And after I drop off my mom, I’m going to go tell her.
After the epiphany about wanting to be with her, I had another one when I realized I have no way of getting hold of her. I could call Dean to get her number, but this needs to be a face-too-face conversation.
Preferably with some kissing.
“Trevor.” Mom pulls my attention back to her. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I blow out my breath with a wince. “Annabelle passed away.” At once I hold up a hand to stop her from responding. “Don’t say anything about needing to move on or meeting someone else. I don’t want to hear it right now.”
“I was going to ask if you’re all right,” she says in a wounded voice.
“I’m fine. It’s not exactly a shock. It’s kind of a surprise that no one told me, but I guess I don’t blame them.”
“Her family—they didn’t tell you?” It’s evident my mother is offended on my behalf. “They should have told you.”
“They didn’t,” I say shortly. “I’m not upset about it. I don’t know what I am.”
Relieved, I decide. I’m relieved that Annabelle’s suffering is over. Maybe she can be with her Ben now.
And it leaves me clear to be who I want. It’s surprising how the loss of Annabelle feels like a freedom to be with who I want. And I want to be with Ruthie.
“Why don’t you want to meet anyone else?” Mom asks as I pull into the driveway.
I give a bark of laughter. “That’s what you get out of this conversation?”
“I only want you to be happy,” she says. “You haven’t been happy for a while. I want you to find someone to love again.”
“Do you think maybe it’s the women I’ve been dating that are making me unhappy?” I park the truck and look at my mother, softening my tone at the last moment.
“Don’t you like the girls I’ve sent your way?” she asks with astonishment. “You were with Freyka for a bit, and that Paulina seemed lovely.”
“She was not lovely.” I roll my eyes. “Maybe she was to you, but not to me. Mom, apparently you think I have a type, but I really don’t. At least not that type.”
“What are you talking about?”
I sigh and open the door. “Let me get you into the house first.”
But Mom keeps demanding answers as I get her into the wheelchair, then wheel her into the house. I do my best to ignore her, which only sharpens her tongue.
“Trevor!” she snaps as the door shuts behind us. The tone of her voice sends Dodger back away down the hall rather than rushing for me.
“I don’t want you to set me up with anyone,” I say in a rush. “No more numbers, no more wanting me to meet someone. No more making me meet someone in the doctor’s waiting room. That’s all done.”
“But how will you find someone?” she laments. “You’ve had no luck so far.”
“I’ve met someone I like,” I say loudly. “And your text last night pretty much ruined it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She sniffs and tries to shrug off her coat. My father silently appears behind her and tries to help her. “I can do it myself,” she says shrilly. “No one thinks I can do anything, and when I do, you get mad at me.” My father is left holding her coat as she wheels off.
I meet his gaze. “I don’t mean to get her upset.”
“Stop dating all those girls your mother sets you up with and come here more. That would make her happy.” My jaw drops as he hangs up Mom’s coat, then returns to his spot in the living room.
I follow him and fall into the seat beside my father’s chair. “You don’t like the girls she tries to set me up with?” I ask with disbelief, keeping my voice quiet so Mom doesn’t overhear.
He is not so quiet. “They’re wackos, every one of them,” he says with a loud guffaw. “Every time she gives out your number, I tell her you can find your own woman, but no. She keeps building you up like you’re the heir to the throne.” He holds up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve grown up to be a fine man, but the stuff she says about you.” He shakes his head.
“What exactly does she say about me?”
“It’s better you don’t ask.”
I drop my head in my hands. Suddenly, I feel my father’s callused hand on my knee. “You’ve always been her favourite,” he says, finally dropping his voice. “Don’t tell that to your brothers, or I’ll say it’s the opposite. All she wants is to see you settled
with a nice girl. But I tell her, you can’t rush these things. You’ll find the right person when you’re good and ready, not before.”
I meet his gaze, shocked into silence at the outpouring of emotion from my usually taciturn father.
“You don’t need the type of girl she’s trying to find you,” he finishes in a rush. “They’re not for you. Even that Annabelle…as sad as it is, I have to believe it was for the best, because she wasn’t the right woman for you.”
“Who do you think is?” I demand.
“You’re a good man, Trev, but you need a woman with a little fire in her. Someone with spunk, feisty…they need to have a little heat so you’ll have a challenge. Like me and your mother.”
I grimace. “Thanks, I think, but I don’t want to hear about any heat between you and Mom.”
He chuckles. “You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t want to.” I pause, scrubbing at the back of my neck. “What if I’ve found her? The girl you’re talking about with fire and heat, and who’s definitely a challenge?”
“Then I’d say, what are you doing here with me?” He waves his hand. “Get out of here.”
I stand up slowly. “Maybe I will.”
“Say goodbye to your mother. I’ll explain you have things to do, so you’re not staying for supper.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I surprise both of us by leaning down to hug him.
That’s when the doorbell rings.
Chapter Twenty One
Ruthie
It took less time to convince Dean to drive me to Trev’s than it did to get Flora to let me work for her.
All it took was my confession that I like his friend, and showing a little vulnerability rather than the Ruthie attitude, and I had a driver.
It’s especially helpful since he knows Trev is at his parents’ house and how to get there.
And now I’m here, ringing the doorbell of Trev’s parents’ house.
I shift from foot to foot as I wait for the door to open. I should have changed, toned down my appearance before I came. If Trev’s mother is on the lookout for Paulina-like girls for him, there’s no hope in her liking me. I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me before, let alone someone’s mother. My motto has always been if I feel good about myself, then it’s fine. I’ve never once tried to impress someone, not even when I dated the MP’s son.