Coming Home To You (Man From Yesterday 1)

by Barbara Lohr

  “He was misinformed.” Kate twirled the wine glass in her fingers “Seemed to think the property was for sale.”

  “Cole’s helping with our fresh produce store. But I told him, we’re not painting it pink like those cookie cutter condos next to the library. Madre de Dios!” Chili slapped her forehead.

  “He didn’t build those,” Diana interjected in a proprietary tone.

  When Kate was growing up, tidy homes on small lots lined the streets of Gull Harbor. Bikes littered front yards and plants spilled from porches in the summer. A lot of those homes had been taken down to make way for the condos. Stripped of all landscaping except for some struggling maple trees, the new pastel townhouses sat in neat, trim rows. The condos were nails across Kate’s chalkboard. She wanted Gull Harbor to stay just as it was.

  “When did those go up?” she asked.

  “About a year ago. Good investments. You know, for the summer people.” Diana’s tapered fingers stroked her dangly turquoise earrings. “A lot of folks who use the marina bought them, although not as many as they’d hoped, or so I hear. Well, time to hit the road. Be around next month, Kate?”

  “You never know.”

  Diana said good-bye, leaving the three high school friends. Kate joined Sarah and Chili in the kitchen to help clean up. Dishes dried and put away, Sarah took off the apron that said “World’s Best Mom.” “Kate, I don't know what you're doing with your time, but they sure could use some volunteers at the library.”

  “Truth is, I don't know what my plans are,” Kate admitted. “But I can’t clean the cottage every day, that’s for sure.” And the writing got lonely. She didn't need lonely right now. “Sarah, could I ask a favor? When you have pastries left over, could I take them to the care center? You know, for the residents?”

  “Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll make sure they get there.” Sarah looked up from sponging off the counter. “Must have felt strange to run into Cole.”

  “Like being sucked through a time machine.”

  Chili clapped her hands together. “What do you think happened to Cole and Diana?”

  “Chili, let’s not gossip.” Sarah pulled out the lower rack of the dishwasher. “Cole’s had a hard time the last couple of years.”

  Suddenly, Kate felt very tired. She grabbed her purse. “Thanks for inviting me, Sarah.”

  Sarah followed Kate to the door and gave her a hug. “Think about the library, okay? They could use you. And why don’t you stop in the bakery soon? A chat would be nice.”

  “Are you mothering me?” Kate teased.

  Her high school friend gave her another squeeze. “Maybe you need some mothering right now.”

  Maybe she did, although her mother had never been big on heart-to-heart conversations.

  Her tires hummed on a quiet Red Arrow Highway as Kate drove home. Her mind chattered from all that soulmate talk. This Irish knit sweater was way too hot. What had she been thinking, dragging old stuff here from Boston? When she reached the stop light at State Road 12, she put the SUV in park and tugged off her sweater. Underneath she wore only a camisole. She rolled down her window. The light changed, and she drove home feeling the cool air on her skin.

  She wasn’t in Boston anymore.

  Chapter 5

  A care conference felt a lot like a parent teacher meeting, except the parent wasn't there. Kate had become the parent and new words came flying at her like frisbees. Range of motion, activities of daily living and length of stay. Led by Marianne, the social worker, the team discussed her mother’s recovery.

  Kate had been up since five, writing an article on TMJ for an orthodontist’s website. Her own jaw felt like it might crack while she listened. Trying hard to take it all in, she wanted Mercedes here. Just for today.

  Will Applegate straightened his red and blue silk tie. He always looked well turned out, as her mom would say. “The team will continue with therapy, Kate, but be aware that a time will come where she’ll plateau…”

  “And then?”

  “Tara, our occupational therapist, will evaluate your house,” Marianne said. “Make sure you have what you need. We have someone sit next to her during bingo, but Alice just isn’t that interested.”

  Everyone around the table nodded. From the look in their eyes, if you weren't interested in bingo, something’s amiss.

  “Mom’s never liked bingo. She kind of likes to do her own thing, like crossword puzzles. How is Mom with the other folks here?”

  Marianne jumped right on it. “She hesitates to ask for help.”

  “Kate, we’re thinking that a roommate might be good for your mother. Kind of perk her up while she recovers.” Those smiley faces danced across Will’s face again. He was really very cute.

  “Exactly.” Marianne’s head bobbed. “Sharing the room might have some advantages for your mother.”

  Her mother seemed plenty perky but they had a point. She’d been told that Medicare didn’t cover private rooms. Still, her mother was so very private.

  “I’ll talk to her.” Kate’s sigh escaped.

  Marianne smiled encouragement. “We were thinking Marie McGraw might be a good fit.”

  Hope glowed at the end of this tunnel. Her mom had known Marie for ages. The only thing they might argue about would be who got the remote.

  After the meeting ended, Kate went to her mother’s room to find her sitting in the blue vinyl chair.

  “Hey, Mom.” Kate kissed her mother's forehead. “Don’t you look pretty.”

  “Thanks, honey. Do you like it?” Her mom smoothed a hand over a lilac top sparkling with green butterflies. “It’s new.”

  “Pants too?”

  “You bet.” Gripping the arms of her wheelchair, Mom struggled to cross her legs, but the right leg wouldn’t cooperate. “How does my hair look, Katie? The roots all right?”

  Her mother had been blessed with thick hair. “Hmm, a touch up might be a good idea. I’ll check to see when the hairdresser comes.”

  Pushing back the blue-and-white striped drape, Kate tried to get more light into the room. “You know, Mom, you might have a roommate coming soon.”

  Five beats of silence and then, “How duckie.”

  “You’d like someone to talk to, wouldn’t you?” She wouldn’t. They both knew it. Not the old Alice Kennedy. “Will Applegate mentioned Marie McGraw. What do you think?”

  “She’s a gossip, and she shops too much. She’ll do fine. Can you pass me that clicker?”

  Relieved, Kate handed her mother the remote. The screen flared to life, and a lovely tanzanite and gold necklace filled the screen.

  “Do I look good in blue? Is that blue?” Her mom frowned at the screen.

  “Yep, sure is. You look great in blue. But could we set a limit of fifty dollars?”

  “Base price or payment?”

  Oh, my. Kate choked. “Ah, total price, Mom. Okay?”

  A grin lifted the left corner of her mother’s lips. “Can’t take it with me, right?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mom. You’re going be around a long time.” From my lips to God’s ears.

  “So there’s no hope with Brian?” her mother asked above the description of the matching tanzanite earrings. “He’s not coming back?”

  “Mom, we’re getting a divorce.”

  Suddenly subdued, her mother changed the channel. Kate got up to leave. A quick kiss on the forehead and she sprinted down the hall. Inside the car, Kate hunched over the steering wheel. She couldn't go home. There was only so much cleaning a girl could do. She had dusted and scrubbed until her hands were raw. Instinctively, she headed toward town.

  When she reached Whittaker, she made a right hand turn and took the last parking spot in front of The Full Cup. The bell jingled overhead when Kate entered the coffee shop.

  Sarah came bursting through the kitchen door. “Hey, what is it?”

  Kate pushed back a lock of hair. “Just wanted to thank you for taking the pastries over to the care center. They really app
reciate it.”

  Sarah leaned on the glass. “Glad to do it. Everything okay?”

  “Fine.” Kate surveyed the case. “But I feel like living dangerously. How about a brownie?”

  Brian had always been at her to lose weight. Now she didn’t have to listen to his constant nagging. Brownies in hand, they both settled in at a front table.

  Sarah looked at Kate like a wayward train had just crashed through the front window. “I don’t want to pry, Katie. But if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. Your mother… the divorce. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”

  Grabbing her cup of coffee, Kate gulped it. Darn coffee was so hot it burned her tongue. “Thanks, Sarah. Things just didn't work out, if you’re referring to my marriage. Time for plan B, I guess. In the meantime, I want to help Mom. Get her on her feet again, if that’s possible. In all honesty, Sarah, I don't know if my mom’s going to recover.”

  “Oh, honey, she’s a survivor.”

  “You mean, considering everything she had to deal with.”

  Sarah ran one finger around the rim of her coffee cup. “Underneath it all, your dad was a good guy.”

  “Terrific guy. When he was sober.”

  Sarah didn't say anything. The drinking had been hard for her friends to understand while they were growing up. Didn’t everyone have a few beers on the beach? But Kate’s dad crossed the line. Mr. Wilkins coached their soccer team and came to every teacher conference. Kate's father always had some excuse.

  “So hard for all of you.”

  Kate really didn’t want to think about the past. The present was giving her enough trouble. “We all moved on, but now my mother needs help. Think I’ll be here for a while.”

  Sarah’s eyes lit up. “That’s great, right?”

  The sun had come out, warm and comforting as it beamed through the frosted window. “Maybe. Yes. I can write from Breezy Point. I don’t have to go back to Boston. No Plan B,” she finally admitted.

  Her old friend smiled encouragement. “You’ll think of one. Kate, don’t forget the library. I can talk to Mildred. She takes care of the volunteers.”

  “Sounds good.” She wanted to fill every minute.

  When Kate reached the house thirty minutes later, she tossed her purse onto the counter and slipped out the front door. No need to lock up. Not in Gull Harbor.

  The lake was calm that day, and the metal railing felt warm in her hand. Purple violets bloomed in the myrtle skirting the stairs. Once she kicked off her sandals, Kate raced toward the water, the dune grass tickling her feet.

  Gosh, how she needed this. Waves soothed the shoreline with a comforting rhythm. Up above, gulls circled in a flock. At the water’s edge, the damp pebbled sand felt cold underfoot. After that care conference, she needed a wakeup call. When could Kate and Mercedes walk barefoot along the shore? That was the day summer began for them.

  Today, the soles of her feet protested. Pumping her arms, Kate picked up the pace. Soon perspiration dampened her hairline.

  When she passed the Campbell property, Kate slowed, glad she was wearing her sunglasses. Not even five o’clock so Cole probably wasn’t home. She didn’t want him to think she was stalking him. Huge maples and oaks made it hard to see the house. Looked like the yellow frame house had been painted a sedate grey with black shutters.

  Masculine. Imposing. Cole must have added the huge deck jutting out from the main building. My, the boy had been busy. Looking up, Kate felt her sophomore year come rushing back. She’d creep down here late at night, lurk in the shadows, and stare up at his house. Really stupid.

  As if he’d know. As if he’d care.

  Things had been so simple then, although she sure hadn’t thought so.

  She liked Cole’s house better when it was yellow.

  Just in case he was home, Kate walked a little farther before turning around. On the way back home, she played the old game of trying to step into her earlier foot impressions in the wet sand but the lines had been washed away. If they were still visible, heel to toe, her bare feet didn’t fit. Her mind wouldn’t stay focused.

  Who was Cole Campbell now? Not the gangly basketball player or the skilled debate team member. His skinny neck and bobbing Adam’s apple had been replaced by a neck strong as a tree and probably just as rigid. So he was working hard to get Gull Harbor on its feet? She wanted proof.

  ~~

  Cole watched Kate pick her way down the shore. Had she come down this far for a reason?

  “Dad, did you pick up any turkey?” Behind him, Natalie was rifling through the refrigerator.

  A familiar guilt made his face heat up. “Sorry, sweetheart. Just had so much on my mind.”

  Natalie had that hands-on-her-hips thing down pat. “Did you get dog food?”

  “You bet.”

  “Why do you always feed Prissy and not me?” But he saw the smile tweaking her irritation.

  “Because I can’t stand the look in her eyes when her bowl is empty?”

  Grabbing Prissy’s bowl, Natalie snorted. “Her bowl’s never empty.” His daughter zipped out to the garage where the huge bag of pellets was kept in a tall plastic can. He could hear the feed hit the metal.

  Wandering back to the window, he checked out the beach.

  And it felt empty.

  Chapter 6

  Bright red tulips bloomed along the edge of the library parking lot when Kate pulled in. The third day of rain had darkened the gray brick structure. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she scurried inside to the bright overhead lighting and the familiar smell of books. Didn’t take long to discover that Mildred Wentworth, director of Gull Harbor Library, probably alphabetized her canned goods.

  The main desk was kept neat as a pin. Patting the ridges of her tight gray curls, Mildred showed Kate around, although she could have given the tour herself. Fiction was shelved in alpha order with magazines and DVDs neatly arranged across the back. Felt like she’d come home, and Kate was glad Sarah had suggested volunteering.

  In the right of the “T” at the end of the building was the children’s area, furnished with small plastic tables and chairs in bright blue and red. The opposite end held the young adult books. Mildred shook her head at the dark covers picturing vampires and ghouls. “Dear me, what children read these days. It’s a wonder they can sleep at night.”

  “Well, at least they’re reading, right?”

  Mildred tapped her powdered chin. “Excellent point. We don’t like to see the books remain on the shelves, now, do we?” The older woman’s impish attitude made Kate smile.

  “I spent a lot of time here when I was a kid,” she confided, following Mildred back to the checkout counter.

  “Always helps to have a reader as a volunteer. Now here are the returned books.” Mildred gave the pushcart a little nudge. “If you could just reshelve them?”

  “Absolutely.” Kate took it from there. Alphabetizing felt soothing after the research she’d done late last night on joint replacement appliances. Although she carried her electronic reading device everywhere, nothing beat the heft of a real book. Kate loved the clean papery smell, the feel of the spine, the whisper of page edges on her thumb.

  Books stayed the same. You could count on them.

  Unlike people. Especially husbands. When she left Boston, the lawyers had been drawing up the papers. Both Kate and Brian were goal oriented. Liked to check things off. But at their last meeting, she glanced over to find indecision clouding Brian’s eyes. “This is the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

  Caught off guard, she felt her own resolve waver, as if Brian had tossed a stone into the lake and it rippled outward. Her eyes filled. But she knew. She just knew. “Yep, you bet. The right thing.”

  Brian’s shoulders had visibly loosened, and Kate could have kicked herself for that moment of doubt.

  She was reshelving Robert Ludlum when she saw the skinny blonde girl disappear into the young adult section. The hood of a bright yellow parka hid her face, and kn
ee-high boots squeaked on the carpet. Craning her neck, Kate tried to get a better look. Yep, there she was at one of the tables, paging aimlessly through a book. When she shoved the hood back, long corn silk hair almost hid the delicate features of a cameo, an unhappy cameo.

  The girl looked up and caught her staring, her eyes a startling shade of blue.

  “Can I help you, ah, with anything?” Leaving her cart, Kate edged into the young adult area.

  One narrow shoulder hitched. “Nope.”

  “Have you read any of these?” Kate motioned to Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary.

  “Nope.” The girl looked at the book in her hands and slammed it shut.

  All these books and she looked lost. Eyes raking the shelves, Kate looked for something that might bring a smile. “You might like Beverly Cleary’s stuff.”

  Shaking her head, the girl drummed her fingers on the closed book. Made Kate’s heart catch to see the bitten fingernails. They looked like hers when she was about this age.

  Kate began to stack books on the table. “Let’s see. Ramona Quimby was a girl who, well, didn’t really fit in. I kind of liked her when I was in grade school…” Kate bit her lip. No need to spill her own sad story of being tall, gawky, and invisible, or so it had seemed.

  The girl eyed the books like they were broccoli. Then flopping one open, she snugged her chair up to the table.

  “You can take them out. Read them at home.”

  “Nah. That’s all right. I’m good.” With a sigh, she unzipped her glossy yellow slicker. A bright mauve top spilled out. What a startling color. Growing up, Kate had worn navy blue, always trying to blend in.

  “Do you have a library card?”

  “Nope.” The girl’s right leg startled to jiggle, like she had to be someplace.

  “My name’s Kate. I’m a volunteer and new at this, but I’m pretty sure we can fix you up with a card.”

  The girl’s blue eyes got round as the bachelor buttons Kate’s mother planted every summer. “You would?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  The whisper of a smile lifted her lips. “I’m Natalie.”