by Grace Palmer
Fine. They didn’t need to talk or be friendly. He was here to do a job, and Stella was happy to let him do it. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, anyway. She was starving and sweaty, and with every passing second, she was becoming more and more positive this spontaneous trip was a huge mistake.
“I get grouchy when I don’t eat.”
Stella snapped her attention to the man securing her car to his hitch. “Excuse me?”
“‘Hangry’ is what Drew’s sisters call it,” he said. “I was working on a car in the shop and didn’t have my phone with me. When I finished, I was headed out to grab dinner, but I had a message from Drew. It was about you. Since it had already been an hour since he called, I skipped dinner and came here straight away. I’m hungry and grouchy. And sorry.”
It was the most he’d spoken since he got out of the truck, and Stella was struck dumb.
An apology? That was the last thing she expected from a man like him.
That wasn’t fair, exactly, since she didn’t know this man from Adam. She didn’t know his name at all. It could actually be Adam for all she knew. Still, that hadn’t stopped Stella from assuming she knew what to expect from him the moment he climbed out of his truck and glared at her. Now, he’d surprised her, and she was too tired and hungry to hide it.
“I’ve stunned you into silence.” He chuckled and stood up, wiping his hands on the backs of his jeans. “I must have made a pretty bad impression if a simple apology leaves you speechless.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t make the best impression, either. I didn’t even ask your name or thank you for coming.”
“Sam.” He pointed to the side of the truck and the animated character that looked nothing like him. “It’s my shop.”
“Oh. Duh.” She blushed in embarrassment at not making the obvious connection. “Thanks for coming to save me, Sam.”
Finally, he smiled. It was small and close-lipped, but dimples punctuated each side of the humble curve, and laugh lines appeared around his eyes and mouth. Stella’s heart squeezed.
Sam’s smile was confident, but not in the same way as Drew’s. Rather, Sam’s smile was comfortable. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone or prove anything. He was just perfectly at ease.
Sam opened the passenger side door for her before walking around to the driver’s side. Stella didn’t know if it was because he noticed her dress and was offering her privacy or not, but either way, she was grateful for no prying eyes as she hauled herself indelicately into the high bench seat of the tow truck.
He checked the rear-view mirror several times as they pulled away, ensuring her car didn’t roll backward down the road. His truck smelled like oil and leather and dirt, but there was something spicy and unique there, too. It was genuine man smell—not the sour smell of a teenager’s socks or the sweaty smell of a little boy’s head after playing outside all afternoon.
“I saw your face when I pulled up.”
Stella startled at his voice. “What do you mean?”
“You looked shocked,” he said, rubbing a hand along his gray-speckled stubble. He chuckled. “Scared, even. I’m sure you regret not accepting the ride from the dashing young gentleman. I can’t blame you for that, though.”
“And you shouldn’t because it isn’t true.” Stella folded her hands in her lap and sat tall. “Drew Baldwin was a charming young man, but I’m not much interested in young men.”
Was this flirting? Stella couldn’t tell, but she hoped so. Or maybe she didn’t.
It had been so long since she’d done this. Years. Maybe a decade.
She’d dated here and there over the years, but never anything serious. Jace needed stability, not a revolving door of men. She didn’t want to bring men over to the house to meet Jace, but she also didn’t have the money to pay for a babysitter every time she wanted to go out to dinner. So, she mostly just didn’t go out.
After a while, it became normal. The thought of going out again, trying to remember what it was like to flirt and make small talk and get to know someone, felt scarier than being alone. She knew how to be alone. Stella could plan for being alone. She couldn’t plan for a man she didn’t know yet.
Sam’s hands clenched the wheel and he nodded. “Noted.”
When Stella admitted she’d never heard of Willow Beach before, Sam launched into a speech worthy of a tourism commercial. It was easy to see he loved his town and the people in it. He told her about the small shops along Main Street—cafés, bakeries, saloons, and restaurants—and the owners of each. He spoke about them as friends, not just neighbors or acquaintances.
“My shop is at the end of the street, away from the more touristy spots,” he said. “I still see a lot of tourists, though. Cars break down even on vacation. Though, I suppose you know that as well as anyone.”
“Willow Beach sees a lot of tourists?”
Sam nodded. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it since you live in Maine. It’s not a nationwide destination spot or anything, but if you’re nearby and looking for a weekend getaway, there’s nowhere better, in my opinion.”
“It sounds like a lovely town, but I’m on my way to Boston.”
“For work or pleasure?”
Stella hesitated. “I’m not entirely sure. Pleasure, I guess. But maybe business, too.”
“I don’t follow.”
Stella laughed, rested her elbow on the passenger side door, and jumped into the whole sordid tale. She left out the more embarrassing parts about her being in her ratty sweatpants, painting flea market signs, and watching soap operas, but she kept in the part about Brenda bursting into her house and declaring she was in need of a vacation. Sam laughed when she described Brenda throwing clothes into her suitcase and practically shoving her out the door.
“She sounds like a good friend,” he said.
Stella had been too busy being annoyed with Brenda for interrupting her day off and sending her on a thus-far disastrous vacation to realize that Brenda’s concern and advice came from a good place. Despite it all, she really was a good friend.
“Her twins left home two years ago, so I guess she could relate to what I’m going through with sending my son off to college. Taking care of yourself after years of taking care of someone else isn’t as easy as I imagined it would be.”
Sam’s smile was tense. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever taken care of myself.”
“You don’t have any children?” Immediately, Stella regretted the question. She’d overstepped the bounds of propriety, but more than that, his answer could ruin everything between them.
What if he was a deadbeat dad? What if he did have children, but he’d abandoned them the way Jace’s dad did? What if Sam had kids out in the world who missed him and ached for him and wished he would write or call or visit?
On some level, Stella realized it shouldn’t matter what Sam’s personal life looked like. This was a tow, not a first date. Still, she couldn’t help but worry.
“No, no children. Nor a wife.” He shrugged and gave her his best approximation of a real smile. “Just me.”
Something like relief washed through her, but Stella didn’t know why. She’d be gone as soon as her car became drivable.
Sam looked different in his coveralls. Taller. Broader.
He put them on as soon as they got back to his shop and got under the hood. He’d complained about being hungry when he first came to hitch up her car, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to go eat now. He took his time, inspecting everything, humming to himself and nodding his head. Stella used the time to admire the organization of tools and machine parts in what had to be a thousand small pull drawers on the back wall. Every single drawer was labeled, and there was an index file on the desk to the right to keep track of inventory, presumably. The floors were smooth and shiny, and the shop smelled reminiscent of the inside of the tow truck. It was not altogether unpleasant.
Finally, Sam stood up and threw a greasy towel over his shoulder. “It’s going to be a day or two
.”
“On the car?” Stella jumped up from the stool she’d been spinning around on for the last ten minutes. “You can’t fix it?”
“I can, but it’s going to be a day or two. Your alternator is shot, and so is your serpentine belt. It snapped, and your engine overheated, which caused the smoke.”
“The engine is bad, too?” Stella’s eyes felt like they were bugging out of her head.
“No, but—” Sam lifted his fingers to count off what all needed fixing. “The alternator is bad, the serpentine belt is snapped, and your camshaft is cracked.”
“You’re making up names now. I’ve never heard of any of these things.”
“Maybe that’s part of the problem. Did you ever notice your car making a ticking noise?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
Stella’s face flushed. “The last year or so, but Arlen told me it was running great. I take it to him every three months for an oil change, and he said the noise wasn’t an issue.”
Sam gave her a sheepish smile. “The noise was the camshaft. It’s cracked and needs replacing. It’s not the reason your car stopped running today, but it is one of the more serious issues, and it’s the part I’ll have to wait on.”
“Wait, so the camshaft has nothing to do with the problem? Then let’s just leave it alone. I’ll get it looked at later.” The car had gotten Stella back and forth to work every day for ten years; surely it could get her to Boston.
“We could do that, but it could ruin your entire engine, and you’d be looking at five thousand out of pocket instead of fifteen hundred.”
Stella’s vision went blurry. “Thousand? Five thousand?”
She had the money. Her emergency stash was more than capable of handling that kind of expenditure, she had made sure of it, but that didn’t make the blow any less devastating. She plopped back down on the stool, and the wheels squealed under her weight.
“This is what I get for being spontaneous.”
Sam crossed the room and moved like he was going to put a hand on her shoulder. Instead, he grabbed the towel from his shoulder and tugged at each end. “It would have broken down whether you went on a trip or not. It would have only been a matter of time. But on the bright side, you can still take a vacation. Like I said, Willow Beach is an amazing weekend spot.”
“But I was supposed to go to Boston.”
When Jace was a toddler, his life had revolved around his routines. It got so bad at one point that he wore the same outfit nine days in a row. Stella had to wash it every night so it would be clean and ready for him in the morning; otherwise, he’d devolve into a tantrum that lasted half the day.
Right now, Stella felt like having a tantrum of her own. She felt like crying or kicking something.
“Didn’t you say this trip was spontaneous? Maybe you could spontaneously decide to go to Willow Beach instead of Boston.”
This trip was supposed to be about focusing on her dreams, her goals. Brenda had told Stella to imagine something she’d always wanted, and Boston was where Stella imagined herself. It seemed silly at the time, but at some point on the trip, Stella had become excited. She wanted to take a trip by herself, explore what a big city had to offer, and try to imagine what her life would look like moving forward.
Now, life had thrown another wrench in her plans.
Jace wasn’t a wrench. Not ever. Stella would go to her grave positive he was the best thing that ever happened to her. Still, life wasn’t easy as a single mom. It felt like she was constantly jumping hurdles no one else even had to think about. And now, the one time she tried to do something for herself, what did life give her? Another hurdle.
Stella couldn’t explain any of this to Sam. He might understand what it felt like to be knocked down again and again—he didn’t have any kids or anyone to look out for, but that didn’t mean he was immune to heartache—but she barely knew him. Dumping her life story on him and crying on his shoulder wouldn’t make her feel any better. It would make her feel pathetic and pitiable. Stella had spent too many years fighting against those things to give into them now.
She lifted her chin and took a steadying breath. “How long do you need to get the part? Is there any way it can be done in a day?”
Sam chewed on his lower lip and bobbed his head back and forth while he considered. “I can try.”
“Good. One day won’t derail my plans too much.” She could still get to Boston by tomorrow night if she was efficient, and then she’d have Sunday through next Saturday to do…whatever it was she was going to do in Boston before she had to get back home and back to work. That left plenty of time for a personal revelation and a vacation Brenda would be proud of. For now, she just needed to figure out where she was going to sleep.
A door banged open in the back of the shop. “Fancy seeing you again, Mrs. Pierce.”
Stella spun around to see Drew Baldwin strutting towards her.
“Glad to see you got my message, Sam. I came by to make sure Mrs. Pierce wasn’t still stranded on that road.”
“It’s Ms. Pierce. And Sam came to my rescue,” Stella said. “As did you, Drew. Thank you.”
He feigned embarrassment and waved away her gratitude. “I also came back to see if you had a place to stay for the night.”
Stella felt her entire body blush with a deep, searing awkwardness. Was he asking her to stay at his house? Surely, he had to know she wouldn’t accept. She wouldn’t even take a ride into town from him, so this was out of the question.
Stella opened her mouth to try and politely explain that she’d rather go back and sleep on the side of the road, but before she could, Sam chuckled behind her. “Drew’s family runs an inn up the road.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry. I should have led with that.” Drew’s face seemed suddenly more flushed, though he hid it well with a big grin. “The Willow Beach Inn is the premier lodging option for the weary traveler in all of Willow Beach. My mom runs the place, and she makes a mean breakfast. You have to try it.”
Stella had always been leery of inns or bed-and-breakfasts. She preferred the standard, repeated experience of chain hotels where she knew exactly what to expect and there was a corporate structure holding the managers and employees accountable. A family business didn’t offer the same system of checks and balances. However, Stella had a feeling the woman responsible for raising a young man as kind and compassionate as Drew Baldwin was sure to be trustworthy.
“Well, if I have to try it…”
“You do.” Drew grinned. “Have I earned your trust enough to give you a ride, or should I call the only ride-share driver in town to come pick you up?”
She smiled shyly. “Trust is a strong word, but I’ll accept a ride.”
4
Sam’s shop was close to the highway, so Stella hadn’t gotten to see much of the town beyond the dated “Welcome to Willow Beach” sign posted in the grass next to the ditch before he pulled into the dirt lot behind his shop. On the way to the Willow Beach Inn, however, Drew drove down Main Street and pointed out places as they passed.
He had the same warm tone in his voice as Sam did while talking about the town, and now that she had seen it, Stella could understand why. It was like a made-for-TV movie set. The storefronts were painted in pastels with wide windows and cute vinyl decals differentiating a furniture store from the coffee shop next door, The Roast. According to Drew, Vivienne Russell ran the coffee shop, and Stella absolutely had to try her brown sugar honey latte before she left.
“My mom makes the fluffiest scrambled eggs and crispiest bacon you’ve ever had, but her coffee is like jet fuel. She likes it strong and won’t be persuaded otherwise.”
“I’ll remember that in the morning.”
“Forget at your own peril.” Drew wagged his dark eyebrows in cheerful warning.
“Thanks for coming back to check on me.”
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t,” he said. “If anything, you should be mad at me for wai
ting so long to make sure Sam got my message. He’s a reliable guy, so I didn’t have big doubts, but still.”
“How long have you worked for him? You must be close if you can check up on your boss.” Stella tried to imagine what Mark would do if she ever made it seem like she was checking up on him, but even in her imagination, she got reprimanded and given an official warning before she could even finish the sentence.
“Only a few months, actually. But Sam is a longtime family friend. He was friends with my…my parents,” he said, stumbling over the word slightly. “Before my dad took off.”
It was obviously a tender subject, so Stella didn’t press.
“Sam is a great guy, and he gave me a job at the shop over the summer while I wait for the school year to start back up.”
“Teacher?” she said.
“Baseball coach. Though, teacher could be a good idea one day. Right now, I split my time between coaching and working part-time at the shop. And submitting freelance sports analyst pieces to papers around the country. I’ve had a few published, but it’s just a hobby for now.”
One day. Stella was surprised by how unfamiliar those words sounded.
At what point did she stop thinking about ‘one day’ for herself? For Jace, she thought about it all the time.
One day, he’d go off to college.
One day, he’d get married.
One day, he’d have kids.
All of those things were still ahead for him, and Stella was excited on his behalf, but when did she stop thinking about her own future? When did she stop feeling like she had one at all?
At the end of Main Street, Drew turned left and took a winding road up a small hill. Positioned at the top was a sprawling lawn with a large white manor house in the center. The windows glowed golden in the dim evening light, and life seemed to radiate out from it like a heartbeat. It was a picture. A dream. A wide porch wrapped around the front of the house and around the side, opening onto a patio that looked out on the ocean just down the hill.