It Happened on Love Street

by Lia Riley

  “Room three two four,” came the reply. “Down the left side hall, second door from the end.”

  “Thank you.” She turned to leave.

  “He’s such a hoot,” the nurse said. “We all enjoy his company.”

  “Yes.” Pepper feigned a smile. Dad must be faking happy and brave. No big surprise there. But he didn’t have to be strong anymore. She’d take over. Each step felt weighted by a hundred pounds. She was ready for the worst. Poor Dad, all alone. God, she hoped he hadn’t been too lone—

  “Honey!” Dad propped up in a hospital bed surrounded by a dozen heart-shaped balloons. No Grim Reaper in sight, all sunshine and smiles. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hey!” She dashed forward. “Who brought the circus?”

  “Me.” A plump, friendly-looking woman answered from a recliner, looking up from her pile of knitting. “Hospitals are such dreary places. I felt like this was an easy way to add pizazz to the room.”

  Pepper opened her mouth but nothing came out. Who was this woman sitting here clicking needles like she belonged to the place? “Hi, I’m—”

  “Chili Pepper,” Dad broke in. “This is my…Susan.”

  “Pepper, it’s so good to meet you!” Susan hurtled out of the chair and launched at Pepper, clasping her to her ample bosom.

  “Good. Yes.” Pepper took a muffled breath. “I…sorry…I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”

  Dad laughed. “Susan and I met a few months ago. She came on our land, birdwatching. She’s the secretary of the Maine Ornithological Society.”

  “I was trying to spot a rusty blackbird.” Susan chuckled. “But found Josiah here instead. And you know what they say about a bird in the hand.”

  “Susan’s taken me all over the state. Although I got overambitious, which is how I came to hurt my back.”

  “You hurt yourself birdwatching?” Pepper fumbled for the doctor stool in the corner.

  “Hiking out to a puffin colony,” Susan added solemnly, heading back to the recliner to resume her scarf.

  “Hold on.” Pepper held up a hand. “I’m confused. I thought you hurt your back on the farm.”

  “The farm? Heck no. In fact, I found out this morning that it sold, and for a pretty penny.”

  “Another reason for the balloons.” Susan’s needles kept clacking. “We’re celebrating.”

  “You sold the farm?” She choked on a gasp. “No more maple syrup?”

  He nodded with a relieved expression. “It was all catching up with me. A nice family from Portland stopped in a few months ago looking for a “tree change” and asked if I’d ever consider leaving. I’d been feeling like a change. They came back with a price that was more than fair, and now your old man is sitting pretty. What a week,” he said, reaching out to take Susan’s hand. “And we’re going to tour the country in Susan’s Airstream. Hitting up all the hotspots.”

  “I had it renovated two years ago,” Susan chimed in.

  “A real adventure, Chili Pepper.”

  Pepper didn’t know how to react to their expectant stares. “First dog people, now bird people,” she mumbled.

  “They gave him a steroid shot.” Susan nodded like everything was in hand. “He should be getting discharged this afternoon.”

  “I thought that you’d need me to look after you,” Pepper said softly.

  “Honey, no! I didn’t want you or your sister to worry about me. I didn’t mean for the hospital to call.”

  “We’re your daughters. Your blood. We worry about you.”

  “That’s what I told him.” If Susan didn’t quit it with the sage nods, she was going to get a neck crick. “See, I have two of my own as well. Wren and Robin. Twins about your age. They’re working for a wild bird rehabilitation center in Massachusetts.”

  “So a big Airstream trip, okay, okay, um, that sounds…” Pepper shook her head, completely out of her element. She didn’t know what to think about Susan, Wren, Robin, or bird nerds. “Impulsive.”

  They both laughed, giddy as teenagers. “At our age, what’s the use in waiting? We aren’t getting any younger.”

  “Life is for the living,” Susan added. “After Dom passed I made a pact that I wasn’t going to waste another moment. If I want to check off every bird in the Sibley North American bird guide, who is going to stop me? If I want to do it beside this handsome hunk o’ spunk who makes melt-in-your-mouth buttermilk pancakes, then life is good. I’m going to say yes. Right, Pepper?”

  “Yes!” Dad punched the air. “Yes to it all.”

  “So what are you doing all the way down in Georgia?” Susan asked. “We’ll have to come down and see the scissor-tailed flycatcher, and then go south for the Florida scrub jay. I’ve always wanted to visit Georgia. You must love it.”

  The dam broke in her throat and Pepper burst into tears.

  Five minutes later Susan had her set up with a lukewarm cup of Lipton while Dad rubbed her back like he did when she was a kid afraid of the dark.

  “I—I-I-I’m supposed to take care of you.” She hiccupped. Great. She never could stop once she started.

  “Chili Pepper, I’m going to say a few things that need saying. I am a grown man. And I love and appreciate the way you always want to look out for me. But stop using me as an excuse.”

  “For what?” Another hiccup.

  “Not living your own life. Now, don’t interrupt. I’ve let it go for too long because I thought you’d grow out of it, but let me be crystal clear. I am not your responsibility. I have set funds aside for myself, sweetheart. But I’d never ask you to shoulder my burdens. All I want in this world is for you and your sister to seize life with both hands and do what you love.”

  Pepper’s shoulders slumped. “I do worry, though.”

  Dad laughed. “Honey, I’m happy. My life is wonderful. Every day might not be good, but there is something good in every day. I’ve had the astounding fortune to have the two best daughters that anyone could have hoped to have. How many thousands of generations have conspired to produce you? How many chance meetings, and love, and sacrifice and hope? You are a blessing.”

  When Pepper sniffled, she wasn’t alone.

  “This man,” Susan said, mopping her eyes with her ball of wool. “This dear, dear man.”

  “I know.” Pepper stood and kissed him on the deep crease in his forehead. “Promise that you’ll take it easier going forward.”

  “Never,” Dad said. “Because what is life but a grand adventure?”

  Pepper glanced to the corner table. It was covered with maps and guidebooks.

  “I’d rather spend my retirement collecting moments than dust,” Dad said. “We are reading up on Niagara Falls, Graceland, the Black Hills, saguaro cactus, the Grand Canyon, San Francisco, redwoods, the Pacific Ocean, but once we hit the open road, we’ll go where fancy takes us. The only definitive place we’ll be going is Georgia, of course.”

  “How do you do that?” Pepper said.

  “What, honey?”

  “Live without a plan.”

  Dad laughed. “What makes you think I don’t have a plan? I have one right here.” He tapped his forehead. “Wake up each morning, look around, and figure out how to live as much life as I can right now.”

  “It sounds good in theory, but—”

  “No buts, honey. It’s not a theory. It’s a fact. Today. This very moment you, me, your sister, Susan, we are alive. This is our time.”

  “Excuse me?” she said, bristling.

  “I’ll let you two have a father and daughter chat and go check on lunch,” Susan said, leaving the room.

  “How can you mock my plans, my goals and dreams? Not everyone can jump in a van and roam the country looking at birds.”

  “Honey.” Dad pushed himself up, wincing and rubbing his shoulder.

  “Hey, we don’t need to talk about it. You should rest.”

  “I’m fine. My shoulder will heal back to normal. Or it won’t. But what’s the point of me worrying
? And I’m not making fun of you or your goals. You impress the hell out of me. You always have. But sometimes I worry about you, honey.”

  “Me?” Pepper stared. “When have I ever given you cause to worry about me?” She never caused anyone to worry. Mostly because she spent so much of her time worrying about everyone else.

  “You lived in New York, the most exciting city on earth. Did I ever hear you once talk about visiting the Met, or taking in a show on Broadway—”

  “Do you know how much it costs to—”

  “Honey, the specifics don’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that you always were focusing on the future, the castle on the clouds.”

  “Because it’s good to make a goal, and work toward it.”

  “Of course it is. Of course. But what happens if the goal becomes the excuse? You get so busy planning that you stop living.”

  “And you think I do that?”

  “Do you?”

  “Maybe.” Another hiccup.

  “Stop looking at the life you’re busy planning and see the life you’re living. Or could be living.”

  She shook her head and walked to the window. “I feel silly.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have spent my adulthood worrying about my dad, who is apparently one of the smarter people I know.”

  “What would make you happy?”

  “Not being a lawyer,” she whispered. And once she said the words they climbed off her chest and she could breathe again. “I don’t think I ever wanted to be one, but it was a stable choice. It felt safe.”

  Dad wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you cause not to feel safe or stable, sweetheart.”

  “It wasn’t you, Dad.” Blood pulsed through her ears as something warm and wet trickled from the corner of her eye. “It was Mom,” she sputtered. “Mom, when she abandoned all of us to chase a better life.” The word better tasted bitter, stung her tongue like nettles.

  Her father held her gaze with his deep-set, unruffled expression. The kindly one that always made her feel anchored during life’s coldest, howling winds. “What if that wasn’t the reason, honey?”

  “But she as good as told me that was the reason. We weren’t enough. You weren’t enough.” A ripple of pain spread over her chest. “How can you possibly think of defending her?”

  Dad didn’t blink. “Your mother may have convinced herself of that reason, but it doesn’t make it true, Chili Pepper.” He shrugged. “There is always the story we tell ourselves, and then the truth. From where I sit, you look like enough. You—you look like plenty. Every day I wake up and the first thing out of my mouth is thanks. I’m a lucky man to have such fine daughters. A damn lucky man.” Dad’s eyes darkened with intensity. “What’s your truth, honey? The one no one can take away?”

  Pepper closed her eyes and a face appeared, not the deeply chisled man from her old fantasies. No. None of them wore glasses, or had a steady blue gaze hinting at a dry sense of humor, a down-to-earth demeanor, and an intelligent mouth. An intelligent mouth that could do some seriously dirty tricks.

  “Rhett.”

  She didn’t realize she’d said the words out loud until Dad repeated, “Rhett. Rhett Butler?”

  “Nope.” She grinned. “Better. Rhett Valentine.”

  After she told the story of the last few months, he stared at her in stunned silence.

  “I only have one question,” Dad said. “What are you waiting for?”

  The rest of the day disappeared in a haze of phone calls to airlines, boarding, takeoffs, and landings.

  When Pepper finally ran up to Rhett’s house and pushed the hair out of her face, rain threatened. The misty air probably made it look like she’d stuck a finger into an electrical socket. Whatever. Time to stop sweating all the stuff that didn’t matter. So her hair was in a frizzy half ponytail. She was powered by airplane coffee and three bags of salted peanuts, was in the same pair of jeans she’d worn the last forty-eight hours. She might not be the image of a stereotypical princess about to kiss her Prince Charming (at least she kept travel toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant stashed in her purse at all times), but this was her own story, her big happily-ever-after moment, so who the hell cared about hair.

  She reached for the doorbell. Forget butterflies in her stomach. She had a chimpanzee cage. They were swinging on ropes and juggling bananas.

  Twelve paws crashed up the hallway. She smiled at the barking from behind the door. He was home, she loved him and his crazy wolf pack. The door swung open and she stepped forward, arms open, ready for the big embrace and…

  “Beau?” She froze, arms out before her like she was Frankenstein’s monster in a game of charades.

  “What are you doing?” He glanced over her shoulder. “Where’s Rhett?”

  “Isn’t he here?”

  “No.” Beau’s brow wrinkled. “He went after you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Rhett didn’t know whether he was coming or going. There’d been a quickie layover in Newark and a glimpse of Manhattan. Jesus. Pepper wanted to live in a place like that? And yet, why not? He’d be able to get a job there. It wasn’t what he was used to, but neither was love. By the time the plane had touched down in Maine he’d amped himself up so hard that it was practically impossible to wait for a cab to take him to the hospital address Tuesday had begrudgingly provided.

  “My sister’s too good for you,” she’d snapped while Beau idled in the car.

  “I know.”

  “Do you? Mr. I Hide the Best Woman Ever under a Rock So That My Small Nosy Town Doesn’t Know What a Catch I’ve Made?”

  “I was stupid.”

  “You were.”

  “I want to make it right.”

  “I am seriously considering Chicago. If I asked her to, she’d come with me.” Tuesday’s voice held a challenge.

  “What if I asked her to stay?”

  “You want to see who she’d choose?” Tuesday taunted.

  “No,” he said after a moment. “I wouldn’t want to hurt her like that. If she wants to live somewhere else and she’ll have me, I’ll go.”

  Tuesday went silent. “I’m impressed, Valentine,” she said at last. “You might live up to the romantic promise in your name yet.”

  “I’m working on it,” he answered.

  But when he reached the hospital—no Pepper. He met her dad and the girlfriend. They were kooky as hell, but nice people. Everland types. The realization warmed him deeply. He and Pepper were from two different parts of the country, but their roots were the same. Before he raced back to the airport, her dad had clapped him on the back, called him a “good guy.”

  He was trying to be.

  His phone had died and he hadn’t packed a charger in his hurry, so he couldn’t call. All he knew was that she was heading back to Georgia. He had to find her. A sympathetic agent found him a last-minute ticket on the flight from hell. He visited Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North Carolina before catching a puddle jumper home.

  There was a pay phone at baggage claim—the damn things still existed—and he called Beau, who came and grabbed him but shook his head at the request to be delivered to Love Street.

  “No can do. It’s the night of the silent auction fundraiser. I have to be on hand, and you’re coming with.”

  “Shit. I forgot. And Lou Ellen is going to kill me because there’s no way in hell I’m going to be Mr. Scallywag.”

  “It’s fine. She found someone else.” His tone was tight, repressing something that sounded curiously like laughter.

  “Who?” Rhett glanced over at Beau. “Not you?” Beau wouldn’t be laughing if he’d been roped in.

  “Hell no.” Beau grinned. “Your father.”

  “Bullshit.” Rhett made a strangled sound. “Doc?”

  “Yeah. I saw them at Smuggler’s Cove at lunch. And here’s the surprising thing: the surly old bastard looked upbeat about the opportunity. Anyway, you don’t want to go home. Pepper’s at the auctio
n, too.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Her sister’s been posting photos of them on Instagram.”

  “Tuesday?” That took him back. “You two are friends?”

  “That drama queen? No.” Beau flexed his fingers on the wheel, as he turned them into an open parking spot by Everland Plaza. “Why? She say something about me?”

  “Not a word.” Curiouser and curiouser. “It sounds like you want her to, though.”

  “This conversation is over.” Beau threw open the car door. “Now let’s go get your girl.”

  Beau was hiding something, but right now his focus was finding Pepper.

  As they drew near, a local string band, Empire State, was playing in the gazebo, filling the air with guitar, mandolin, and dulcimer. Fairy lights were strung through the live oaks and magnolia, and the temperature had dropped to the sultry low eighties. A perfect Georgia summer night. Friends and neighbors dressed in their Sunday best waited in line for the oyster bake, sipping sweet tea. He sought her out, looking for a smudge of black amid the pastels, but she wasn’t to be seen.

  His heart sank. Had she left?

  “They’re over there.” Beau nodded to the left, without glancing over. “See? By the gazebo. The sister’s making a spectacle of herself.”

  Ah. Tuesday was dancing, her white-blond hair swishing over her shoulders as she let the General lead her around the dance floor. And behind her, studying a table of silent auction bids, was a knockout in a white sundress.

  He’d know those legs anywhere.

  He didn’t have to call out. She was turning as if already sensing his approach. The lively song ended and a slower, more romantic song came on, a cover of an Iron and Wine song.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Beau muttered. Rhett didn’t turn to watch his friend go. Beau would know he was grateful for his help. But he knew Beau would kick his ass if he delayed a second longer.

  “May I have this dance?” he asked, not reaching for her supple waist until her shy nod. As he interlaced his fingers with hers, he dipped his head, breathing in her familiar apple scent. Murmuring rose from around the dance floor. He was dimly aware of flashes going off. He didn’t care. He didn’t have a care in the world except to never let this woman out of his arms.