“They might if you come up with something new and exciting that will sell just as many books. That’s the bottom line, right? Selling the books?”
“Yeah, publishers tend to like making a profit.” Lindsey thought about Cloe’s suggestion. “It’d be a stretch to get them to go for it.”
“At least consider it during the time your editor has asked you to not think of your writing. Even if you decide to go in a different direction, it doesn’t mean you won’t come back to your Bobby series in the future. It simply means your next book will be something new. Who knows? You might get whole other series started.”
Lindsey chewed on her bottom lip.
Cloe stood up and walked around the island to throw her napkin in the trash and set her glass in the sink. She moved closer to Lindsey and rubbed her shoulder. Lindsey noticed that about her. Cloe liked to touch. And Lindsey didn’t mind.
“Try not to worry,” Cloe said. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m going to head out. I was working on some sketches.” She started toward the door.
Lindsey followed her, already feeling like she’d miss Cloe’s company. She couldn’t get over how quickly Cloe had broken down her defenses.
Fred stood and ambled over to Cloe. She bent over and gave him some ear rubs. “Take care of your mommy, Fred. Don’t go doing anything drastic like jumping into lakes, you hear?” He licked her hand.
Lindsey tried to think of some way to thank Cloe for her caring. “Do you want to join us for one of our hikes sometime? Or maybe a trip out on the boat?” She had no clue where this was coming from, but it felt right.
Cloe’s face lit up. A good sign.
“I’d love to. It would need to be around my schedule at the store.”
“I’m sure we can work that out. How can I reach you?”
“Do you have your phone?”
Lindsey went to the coffee table and grabbed it. Cloe read off her number, and Lindsey entered it into her contact list. She quickly sent Cloe a text. “There, now you have my number.”
“Thanks for the Oreos and milk. Enjoy your evening.”
Lindsey almost reached for her before she left, but it might be a little early in their friendship for hugs. She stepped onto the porch and watched Cloe pull out of her drive. Cloe tooted the horn and waved. Lindsey returned the gesture.
Fred sat there watching the truck drive away with a mournful expression. Then again, the look was simply because he was a hound. Lindsey sat down in the nearby rocker, and Fred lumbered over to settle at her feet.
She stared at the sun-dappled oak tree in her front yard, and her mind drifted to her nephew. Like she told Cloe, if Eric had lived, he would’ve celebrated his eleventh birthday this summer. Then, just after his eighth birthday, leukemia had struck with a vengeance. With courage that seemed to come from heaven itself, Eric fought valiantly. But despite how much Lindsey prayed, it was not to be. He died three months shy of his tenth birthday.
And Lindsey couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive God for taking such a precious life much too soon. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she believed in God anymore. Lindsey’s brother, David, and his wife, Gayle, turned to God and to their church for comfort.
As she leaned over and rubbed behind Fred’s ears, Lindsey thought about the special connection she had shared with her nephew. She and her ex, Elise, didn’t plan on having children, but that didn’t stop Lindsey from spoiling Eric rotten every chance she got. Elise was the level-headed one and frequently told Lindsey to rein in her exorbitant generosity. Lindsey would inevitably agree, but surely her helping David teach Eric the fine art of baseball wasn’t included. Eric had just started in Little League when the bruising became noticeable. When fatigue accompanied the bruises, it was obvious something was very wrong. David and Gayle took him to the doctor and received the bad news.
When Eric passed, her own grief prevented Lindsey from comforting her brother and his wife. She withdrew even from Elise, until Elise couldn’t take the distance any longer. She left Lindsey last spring and moved out of their home in Bloomington. Lindsey sold the house and embraced her solitude here at the cabin.
She abruptly stood up and tried to shake off her dark mood. “Come on, Fred. Let’s see what we can find to watch on the Animal Planet channel.”
He gave a little woof.
“Yeah, I thought you’d like that.”
* * *
Cloe climbed the stairs to her apartment. She took a quick shower and threw on her nightshirt. She trudged to the kitchen, grabbed a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator, and settled onto the couch in her small living room. She looked around the apartment, comparing it to Lindsey’s place. No, it wasn’t big, but it was all right for her.
She lifted the sketchpad from the coffee table, set it on her lap, and flipped through the pages. She was a good artist, but apparently she wasn’t good enough to do anything other than sell some prints in Nashville. Had she wasted her time and her student loans on a degree that went nowhere? Despite reassurances from her parents, she couldn’t help but feel like a failure.
Still, when her mind raced, as it did now, and the energy pulsed through her body, she felt compelled to pick up a pencil and sketch. Her afternoon with first Paige, then Lindsey, inspired her latest creation. Before she knew it, she’d drawn a boat in the water and a woman who looked very much like Lindsey staring with horror as her dog leaped from the boat.
Cloe smiled as she sketched a series of drawings that appeared like a comic strip—first of Fred’s leap from the boat then his mad swim to Cloe. The next was a drawing of her picking up Fred and carrying him ashore. The last drawing was of Lindsey’s look of relief.
Cloe flipped the page, and without thought, started sketching Lindsey as she gazed at her nephew’s photo. With Lindsey’s sad expression etched in her mind, it wasn’t hard to capture her raw emotion. After she finished, Cloe brushed her fingertips lightly across Lindsey’s eyes. She wanted to erase her pain. But pain that deep settled into your soul, and only Lindsey could find the strength to heal herself.
Cloe closed the sketchpad and turned off the living room lamp. She made a trip to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Afterward, she raised her window and flipped on the small oscillating fan. The apartment had air conditioning, but she didn’t like to use it at night. As she settled under the sheet, she thought about her conversation with Lindsey, going over every meaningful look they shared, every small touch.
She drifted off to sleep with visions of being the friend who would maybe make Lindsey’s burden a little lighter. If something more came of it, she wouldn’t fight it.
Chapter 4
“You’re looking as young as ever, Mrs. P.” Paige slid onto one of the crates in the storage room.
“Mom, don’t listen to her. She’s trying to butter you up for one of your smoothies.”
Paige batted her eyes at Fiona.
“Not our innocent Paige Holland,” Fiona said. “She never stoops to tricks to get what she wants.”
Cloe snorted as she bent over to brush the dirt from her broom into the dustpan. “As if.”
“I’m shocked, Cloe, shocked that you’d think I’d be insincere with my compliment of your mother.”
“Oh, I’m sure you mean it. But I’m also sure you love my mom’s smoothies.” It was getting close to lunch, and Fiona was known to whip up smoothies in her kitchen while Paige and Cloe looked on with much anticipation. It was a longstanding tradition.
Fiona waved them both away. “You two go on to the house. I’ll be there as soon as I sort out this delivery.”
Paige hopped down from the crate, and Cloe set the broom aside. The house was located on a couple of acres behind the store. Thick trees provided privacy, and a long drive separated the home from the store’s property.
They entered the kitchen. Cloe grabbed the strawberries out of the refrigerator, and Paige pulled two bananas off a bunch. Cloe went to the short entryway that led to the back door to get a b
ag of ice out of the deep freezer. By the time she returned, Paige had the yogurt ready. They sat down and stared at the ingredients.
Cloe cocked an eyebrow. “You know we could do this on our own, right? Cut up the fruit, drop the ice and yogurt into the blender, and, um, turn it on?”
Paige looked at Cloe as if she’d told Paige that a pod of aliens had landed on earth and would be fielding the next major league baseball expansion team.
“Are you crazy? And mess with your mom’s recipe?”
“What’s this I hear about messing with my ingredients?” Fiona asked as she entered the kitchen.
“Your daughter is speaking blasphemy.”
Fiona rubbed Cloe’s shoulder as she passed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“We know you make the best smoothies, Mom. I was merely pointing out that we watched you make these enough over the years we should be able to blend them ourselves.”
Paige folded her arms across her chest and scowled at Cloe. “Like I said. Blasphemous.”
Fiona started cutting up the fruit. With her back to them, she said, “I keep forgetting to ask—how was your Sunday?”
Paige smirked. “We had a great time, Fiona.” She turned to Cloe. “Do you want to tell your mom how much fun we had?”
Cloe glared at Paige and mouthed, “I’m going to kill you.”
Paige gave her a saccharine smile.
Fiona glanced over her shoulder at Cloe. “Didn’t you go to your swimming hole?”
Cloe cut in before Paige could blurt out anything else. “Yes. We took in some sun.”
“I thought so. You both look like you did. What else?”
“Hmm?” Cloe stared down at her fingers as she rubbed them across the island.
Paige giggled.
Fiona stopped what she was doing and wiped her hands on a towel. “Okay. What’s up? I can always tell when you’re trying to hide something.”
“Yeah, Cloe. What else happened?”
Cloe sighed. “Fine. Lindsey Marist was there with her boat. Her dog jumped into the water and swam over to us. I think he saw me and got excited.”
“Oh, my. Did you get him out?”
“He was fine, Mom. He was wearing one of those little life preservers.”
When Cloe didn’t expand on her story, Paige nudged her. “And?”
“Lindsey asked me to bring him over to her cabin.”
“Really? I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to wait for her.”
“Me, too, Fiona. Me, too. Now this next part, I’ve not heard. You and I together will be hearing what happened at the cabin.” Paige shifted so she faced Cloe.
Cloe slapped her arm. “Will you stop?”
“Seriously, Cloe. I’m your best friend. I thought you would’ve shared this already.”
Fiona walked over to the island and stood on the other side. She was giving Cloe one of her, “You can’t lie to me, I’m your mother” looks.
Cloe could see there was no getting around telling what happened. “First, I dropped off Paige. Then I took Fred to Lindsey’s cabin.” She stopped there, hoping they’d let it go.
“That’s all?” Fiona asked.
Again with the all-knowing-mom stare. “Lindsey asked me inside.” She couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “For Oreos and milk.”
“Oreos and milk?” Paige said. “Is that a euphemism for something else?”
Fiona laughed while Cloe buried her burning face into her hands.
“Honey,” Fiona said around her laughter. “Finish your story.”
She dropped her hands. “We literally had Oreos and milk. We talked about her writing. She’s having a little trouble staying focused right now and is taking some time off.” Cloe kept quiet about what could be causing the block. That was too personal.
“Are you going to see her again?” Fiona asked.
Paige leaned closer, her eyebrows raised, obviously interested in Cloe’s answer.
“She did ask if I’d like to join her sometime on her hikes with Fred, maybe a trip out on her boat. We exchanged numbers.”
Paige gave her a fist bump. “Good for you.”
“It’s not that big a deal.”
“Yes, it is, honey,” Fiona said. “Lindsey Marist is a very private woman. That’s what I was telling you when you took groceries to her. When she’s come into the store, I get the feeling she’s holding in some pain.”
Cloe still stayed quiet. Fiona seemed to sense there was something Cloe knew, but she simply patted Cloe’s hand. “I’m glad you’re getting to know her, sweetheart. I think she could use a friend.” She went back to cutting up the fruit.
Paige leaned close. “I’m mad at you right now,” she said softly.
Cloe turned toward her and felt a little guilty at Paige’s hurt expression. “We’ll talk more later,” she said in the same soft voice.
The whirring blender stopped any further conversation. Fiona poured their smoothies and carried them over with two spoons. She got the can of whipped topping out of the refrigerator and set it in front of them. “I know how much you both love this stuff.”
“Got that right, Mrs. P.” Paige shook the can and sprayed a healthy amount on top of her smoothie.
Cloe did the same and stirred it in.
Paige held up her glass. “To our friendship.”
Cloe clinked glasses with her. As she raised the glass to her mouth, Paige added, “And to burgeoning romance.” Cloe sputtered and coughed.
“Paige, I just love you,” Fiona said with a big grin.
“Please don’t encourage her, Mom.”
* * *
When Cloe’s phone rang later that evening, she didn’t have to see the display to know who it was.
“Hi, Paige.”
“What’s with not telling me you had an afternoon with Lindsey?”
“Chatting over Oreos and milk hardly constitutes an ‘afternoon.’”
Paige grunted. “Whatever.”
“I’m sorry. I know it hurt your feelings that I didn’t tell you. To be honest, I’m not sure what to make of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe Lindsey was being nice after I helped her dog.”
“Dudette, she wasn’t looking at me when she asked us to bring Fred to her cabin.”
“That’s only because she knows me.” Although she felt she’d connected with Lindsey, Cloe didn’t want to get her hopes up.
“Keep telling yourself that, and you might believe it.”
Cloe blew out a breath, debating about how much to tell Paige.
“Talk to me, Cloe. Please.”
Cloe settled back into the couch cushions and stared up at the ceiling. Mind made up, she launched into a replay of her conversation with Lindsey. This time, she decided to at least add the small detail that Lindsey was dealing with sadness from a death. She didn’t mention that it was her nephew and how close they were.
“Is that why she’s having trouble writing? I mean, I imagine it’d be hard to write a perky children’s book if you’re dealing with grief.”
“It’s played a big part.”
They were quiet for a long moment until Paige broke the silence.
“Other than that heavy part of the conversation, I’m assuming the rest was good if she mentioned getting together for a hike or for you to join her on her boat.”
Cloe smiled as she recalled the small touches they shared, the little spark when their fingers brushed together. “It was good.”
“Is that all I’m going to get?”
“I don’t want to jinx anything. Right now, I think we can at least be friends.”
“If it leads to something else, that won’t be bad, right?”
“No, it won’t be bad.” Cloe played with a loose thread on the hem of her nightshirt. “I really like her.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Paige said softly. “You deserve this.”
“I’m taking it slow.” Cloe had a feeling Lindsey was like a skittish colt,
and that if she pushed too hard, Lindsey would take off and not look back.
“Slow is good but not glacial movement, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You promise to keep me up to speed now?”
“Promise.”
“All right. I guess I’ll let you get some sleep.”
“Good night, Paige.”
“Night.”
Cloe sat in the silence of the living room for a good fifteen minutes before heading to bed. She flipped on the fan. As she pulled the sheet over her, her cell rang. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was Lindsey. She tried for nonchalance but wasn’t sure if she pulled it off as she answered.
“Hi, Lindsey.”
“Cloe. Hi.”
“Hi.” Cloe smiled, thinking Lindsey sounded a little nervous.
“Listen, um, I was wondering if you wanted to go for a hike tomorrow afternoon. Like around four or so?”
“Let me check my calendar.”
“Oh. I understand if you’re too busy. Maybe another time.”
“Lindsey, I’m kidding. I’d love to go hiking with you and Fred. I’m assuming he’ll be our chaperone, right?”
“He does enjoy the hikes.”
Cloe heard Lindsey’s smile when she answered.
“I’m driving into Bloomington earlier in the day to have lunch with my brother. I think I’ll need to decompress afterward.”
“Don’t you get along?” Cloe shut her eyes. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s fine. We have a bit of a history. Sometimes, he thinks he knows better than I do how I should live my life.”
Cloe didn’t think she could say anything to that, so she let it go.
“Do you want me to meet up with you at the cabin?” Cloe asked.
“If you don’t mind. The trail starts not too far from there.”
“I’ll see you at four unless I hear from you.”
“Great.” Lindsey was quiet for a moment. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”
Cloe’s heart warmed at the words. “Me, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, too.”
Just a Touch Away Page 4