by Jenny Hale
Sydney gasped but didn’t say anything. Hallie still couldn’t look her sister in the eye because the surprise on her face would make Hallie feel even more like a failure. She was broken. Against her will, and through no fault of her own, the guilt she carried over it swarmed her like angry bees. “I lost the baby,” she said, her face crumpling. “And they told me that I shouldn’t try for more.” She closed her eyes, the name of her condition hitting her just as hard today as it had when she’d first heard it. Hallie finally looked at her sister, a tear running down her cheek. “They said I have something called antiphospholipid syndrome.”
Sydney, still speechless, shook her head, not understanding what it was, the same way Hallie had been when the doctor had said it to her.
“My immune system mistakenly produces antibodies that make my blood clot irregularly. The doctor prescribed medicine to help. But in my particular case, I doubt I could ever carry a child to term, and even if I managed, my health would be significantly at risk. I had no idea until they did some tests.”
“My God, Hallie. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Tears welled up in Sydney’s eyes as she got out of her chair and threw her arms around Hallie.
The sobs that Hallie had suppressed exploded from her with the force of a rocket, her chest heaving as she buried her face in her sister’s shoulder. She’d tried to move forward with things, to act normally, but when it came down to it, this was always at the forefront of her mind now, and she knew that life couldn’t be the same ever again.
Hallie gently pushed her sister back to look at her. “Ben deserves more than what I can give him,” she said. “So you don’t have to worry about me messing things up.” As she said it, the despair of never getting a chance to see what might have been descended upon her, stronger than it ever had before.
TWENTY
Hallie pulled up at Gavin’s house just a little before lunchtime. He’d promised her homemade pizza and lemonade while they worked on her collection, and she was happy for the diversion. The truth was that her diagnosis was a part of who she was, and while she would still get low about it at times, like today, she had to tell herself to remember Aunt Clara’s words about making the most of her life.
It was a scorcher of a day, and Gavin had told Uncle Hank he’d work on painting the trim in the late afternoon, once the sun was behind the trees, and the next two hours or so would be devoted to art. When Hallie saw the counselor after her diagnosis, she found that the artistic expression therapies were the most helpful for her, and she’d definitely felt happier after being immersed in her photography, so she cleared her mind and spent the drive to Gavin’s focusing on her ideas for expanding beyond the photography for the Coastal Comfort brand. While she loved taking pictures, a tiny urge was pushing her to do more.
“Pizza’s in the oven. I figured we could get straight to work,” Gavin said, meeting her on the front porch. Holding open the screened door, he continued, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Your shots are incredible on the large screen and I’ve got so many concepts already.” He was dressed casually, and she noticed a few specks of paint on his shirt.
“Were you working?” she asked, setting her bag containing her camera and laptop under the hall table, his enthusiasm like a breath of fresh air.
“Yes. I was putting a few final touches on my latest painting just before you came. Would you like to see it?”
“I’d love to.”
“Okay. But first, lemonade.” He swept through the kitchen, filling two Mason jars with ice and juice, handing her one. His movements were becoming familiar now, and his relaxed demeanor made her feel at home. “Follow me!”
Gavin took Hallie upstairs. She hadn’t been upstairs in his home before, and as she ascended the original wooden staircase, she felt the personal nature of where she was going. This was where the bedrooms were and the place where he painted. She felt a little like an intruder, but his smile was contagious and made her curious as to what she would see once they were at the top.
The staircase led to an enormous open space, the entire back of it nothing but windows that allowed light to fill the room and offered extensive views of the gardens, taking her breath away. Against the fresh, white walls the green of outside screamed for attention, but she forced her focus toward the corner where Gavin had placed an easel, the hardwood floors dotted with paint.
Hallie walked over to it.
“Do you like it?” he asked, standing beside her.
She set her lemonade down on one of the tarps next to the wall and returned to the painting, her entire attention on only that. “Oh my goodness,” was all she could say. It was acrylic, using big, chunky strokes, but as a whole creating the most gorgeous design. There was a green circle made of budding branches, with varying shades of olive and chocolate, and in the most beautiful cursive script in the center, it said, “Coastal Comfort.” But behind the logo, covering the entire canvas, as if the logo were stamped on top of it, was a very lightly painted, translucent version of her photograph of Aunt Clara’s white rocker. She couldn’t have imagined a better design. It was clean yet feminine, natural and inviting—just like Aunt Clara. She had to blink away her tears of happiness.
“It’s only an idea, but if you like it, I can hang it in the gallery by your photos—I’ve cleared out a room for them—and I can make a digital image of it that you can use for stationery and business cards. Your brand.”
She wanted to hug him. “It’s perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, smiling at her, clearly elated that he’d impressed her.
“I just feel bad that you’re going to all this trouble… What if nothing sells?”
His smile widened. “It isn’t about the money,” he said. “It’s about doing what you love, what you were put on this earth to do. If you get it right, the money will find you. Watch and see.”
She believed him. Aunt Clara’s business was a perfect example of that.
“Wanna do a little editing?” he asked.
“Absolutely!” Hallie was in her element. Ideas were coming faster than she could get down the stairs. “I’m imagining a movement of muted color as the eye travels around the room in the gallery. So maybe five to six of the white photos, framed in black and charcoal gray, and then add in the burlap-framed print, moving into some of the tan shots like the sand at Firefly Beach and the dock. The color can slowly move to turquoise, so the entire room takes on the feel of the coast.”
“You have a very strong grasp of Coastal Comfort already,” Gavin said as they reached the kitchen, the timer going off on the oven. He pulled out the pizza and set it on a trivet.
“I feel like it’s even bigger than what we’ve already thought of. I’m wondering if I could pair with local merchants to match furniture and accessories to the prints. Wouldn’t it sell more photographs to have coordinating sand-colored throws, white sofas, and seaside-themed candles? Coastal Comfort could be an all-inclusive theme. Designs for the accents have been floating around in my head.”
Gavin rolled the cutter through the pizza, his delight clear. “Sounds to me like your aunt wasn’t the only designer in the family.”
Hallie had been so busy creating in her mind that it wasn’t until he said it that it actually occurred to her that this was exactly the kind of thing that Aunt Clara would be a part of. With everything going on in Hallie’s life right now, she found these discussions with Gavin to be like oxygen for her deprived soul.
“After we have lunch, let’s get that software up and running on your laptop so you can get started. It sounds like you’ve got big plans for Coastal Comfort.”
* * *
“Ben!” Robby tore out the front door past Hallie and Sydney, racing down the drive at Starlight Cottage toward Ben’s parked jeep. He’d been watching through the window ever since Ben had texted when he’d stopped for lunch to give an approximate arrival time. Beau bolted from the backseat, nearly knocking Robby over with kisses, his tail wagging feveri
shly.
“Hi Beau.” Robby giggled before Ben directed the dog toward a ball in his hand. He chucked it off into the yard and Beau ran after it.
“That’s not the only ball I brought,” Ben said, reaching into the backseat and holding up a football. “Ready? Go long!” Robby ran at full speed, his head twisted around to watch for the pass, his legs moving as fast as they could go. Ben sent the ball sailing across the yard, spiraling like a bullet straight into Robby’s arms. Robby cradled it, changing direction and sprinting full speed over to Ben.
“Did you miss me?” Ben said, picking him up and spinning him in the air.
“Yes!” Robby squealed, clutching the ball as Ben whirled him around.
“Are we going to play football later?” Ben set him down.
“You bet we are! It can be you and Hallie against Mama and me!” With all his might, Robby tossed the ball up into the air. It flew up near the tops of the palm trees that lined the walk.
As it came back down, Ben grabbed it with one hand. Then he pitched it back to Robby. “I can’t wait,” he said, but his eyes had already found Hallie on the porch.
Seeing him again was like coming home from a long trip, like crawling into her own bed after being away from it. She waved.
“Let’s give Ben and Hallie a little time, okay?” Sydney said, putting her arm around Robby’s shoulder and guiding him toward the house. She gave Hallie a look of caution on the way inside but Hallie didn’t need it. She had enough to restrain herself all on her own.
Ben nodded toward the beach, his gaze not leaving Hallie. She met him in the drive and, together, they started heading toward the water. Beau was already on the shore, his ball tumbling in the light surf as he bounced around it, plunging his snout into the waves and sneezing, clearly pretending he couldn’t get it, his tail going a hundred miles an hour.
“Guess what I saw when I passed through town,” Ben said. When she didn’t answer, he responded to her questioning look. “They’re setting up for the Firefly Beach fair.” He was making small talk, but those eyes of his devoured her when she smiled.
Hallie had wonderful memories of that fair. “At least we won’t get in trouble this time if we walk into town on our own to get Mable’s apple fritters.”
Ben chuckled at the memory. Mable owned Berkley’s Farm on the way into town. While she was known for selling the best produce in town, every year at the fair—only once a year—she made apple fritters, using her family recipe. They were a hit, and everyone wanted her to make them year-round and stock them in the farm shop, but she insisted on only making them for the fair to encourage people to come out and support the community. For days, she prepared for it, and the whole week before the fair, the entire farmhouse at Berkley’s smelled like apple fritters, making everyone antsy for the sight of that Ferris wheel on the horizon.
“We should go,” he said, leading her to the dock. Beau trotted up to greet them and then ran along the beach, disappearing in the long shadow of the lighthouse. “We could take Robby.” Ben sat on the edge of the dock where it met the sand, and patted the space beside him.
“Yeah, he’d like that.” Hallie sat down and slipped off her flip-flops, digging her feet into the white sand. She focused on the grand porch that stretched along the back of Starlight Cottage where Aunt Clara used to sit, but she couldn’t keep her view off of Ben for long, returning her gaze to his.
“How’s everything here?” he asked, clearly trying to work his way up to the looming topic, but she was glad to have a little more time before they had to face it.
Hallie got Ben up to speed on the latest events at the cottage, and she found herself chatting endlessly about the logo Gavin had made for her and the editing software he’d helped her download for her photography. Perhaps it was her own coping strategy to avoid the weighty events in her life, but she just wanted to share her excitement with Ben. It felt so good when he encouraged her.
“Sounds like you and Gavin really hit it off,” he said, and she could see that brain of his filling with questions. “You two are becoming fast friends.” He smiled, but by the slight hesitancy he showed, Hallie felt the need to clarify their relationship.
“We’ve really bonded creatively,” she said. “But that’s all.”
Her assessment was right because Ben looked surprised that she’d read his thoughts so easily. “You don’t have to try to protect my feelings, Hallie. They’ve gotten pretty rock solid from seeing you date guys over the years. Just do what makes you happy.”
Hallie blew air through her lips in frustration. “I wish it were that easy.” The thought came out as a natural reaction to what he’d said, before she’d had a chance to think about how she’d explain.
“What do you mean?”
This would be the right time to tell Ben about what really caused her and Jeff’s demise. Without even meaning to, she’d set it up perfectly. But the words got caught in her throat, and she couldn’t utter them. She knew exactly why. Ben was the last person she wanted to know about her real troubles because she liked the way he looked at her, as if she were a possibility for his future.
Two expressions of Jeff’s were burned in her memory: the elation he had when she’d told him they were going to have a baby, and then the utter disappointment in his eyes when she broke the news that they’d lost it, and not only that, but they would never hear the patter of little feet. They hadn’t recovered as a couple after that. In their darkest moments, Jeff had made her feel like she’d stolen something from him. When it came to Ben, Hallie wanted him to have everything his heart desired—and she knew he’d eventually want a family with children of his own.
“What’s the matter?” Ben’s concerned face came into her view. “What happened? Is there something you want to tell me?” He took her hand, his soft caress making the ache in her heart worse.
Blinking away tears, she said, “No. There’s nothing I want to tell you.” Which was true. She never wanted to tell him.
He was visibly trying to process her huge swing in emotion, attempting to make sense of it and find answers, but she knew he could never guess this. Her secret was safe. Then a realization slid over his face. “We haven’t done anything wrong,” he said. “You look like you feel guilty of something, but there’s nothing to feel guilty about. I’m not with Ashley anymore.”
She knew that, but it did raise the question as to why. She considered poor Ashley in all this. She’d done nothing wrong. “Why not, Ben? She’s wonderful.” Hallie wasn’t just trying to move the focus off herself. She really believed they were a great couple. “I like her a lot. She listens to the music I do. She has the same sense of humor…”
Ben stood up and ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, the two of you are very similar. That was what drew me to her. And that’s not fair to her.”
“But you can like similar qualities in people, right? There has to be some other reason. Why did you leave her?”
He was slowly pacing around, and she could tell that the conversation made him uncomfortable, which was unusual for him. Nothing ruffled him. “Why did you just break up with her out of nowhere?” she pressed him.
“Because she wasn’t you,” he blurted. His body stilled, his shoulders fallen in defeat. “She wasn’t you,” he said again more quietly. “I didn’t want to tell you that I left her, because it was easier not to act on my feelings for you if you thought we were still together.”
“Why didn’t you want to act on your feelings for me?”
He sat back down beside her. “It’s what I’m used to doing,” he said. “I loved you long before I met Ashley. I’ve always loved you, but I first realized how hard it was to live without you my freshman year in college. While we all piled into the student union on Saturday nights, laughing and carrying on, the truth was that most of those guys were hiding how homesick they were. I wasn’t homesick. I was lovesick. I’d lie in bed and struggle to sleep, knowing how far away you were, aching to see you.”
�
��Why didn’t you say something then?”
“I didn’t want to pull you away from new experiences. We were three states apart. All my admission would’ve done was cause you to come back to the past, where we were. I wanted you to see what else was out there, to have a chance to follow your dreams.”
“And after graduation? You could’ve told me then.” Hallie felt the tears coming. For an instant, she thought that if she’d known this before everything had gone wrong, maybe by some miracle her life would’ve turned out differently. But if she were honest with herself, she knew that she’d have met the same fate anyway.
“I struggled to find the right time. I wanted to give us both space to figure out who we were, and after a while I got used to holding on to my feelings, waiting until it felt right. When Jeff came along, I thought I’d lost you. I couldn’t think straight. I was in my head all the time, my work was suffering… I forced myself to move forward and I started dating Ashley.”
Hallie wiped a runaway tear from her cheek, her heart feeling like it would burst. She couldn’t believe he’d felt this way for so long…
“When you called to tell me you and Jeff had broken up, it was like I’d been given a second chance. At some point over the summer, I knew I’d have to tell you the truth about how I felt or risk the pain of never knowing what could’ve been. And I’d learned from your engagement that I can’t live with that kind of pain.
“I called things off with Ashley and literally ran to you. But I quickly felt that you had too much on your plate already. And you said yourself that you love being with me because I don’t want anything more than what we already have. But that’s not completely true…”
Hallie sniffled, trying to get herself together, but she couldn’t. Her eyes were filling with tears, blurring her vision.