She hadn’t lingered like her own grandmother. Maybe she’d decided she wouldn’t live unless she could live as herself.
As educated as Jay was about the disease, he still couldn’t shake that idea. That somehow she had the will to know she didn’t want to linger that way.
One day, she just started winding down.
Doctors couldn’t find a thing wrong with her. Dad had said to stop looking, to let her be. Then Dad had died suddenly. Mom went right behind him. And somewhere along the way, Jay had stopped caring about this fence and the abandoned farmhouse now aging into disrepair.
When he finally pushed away from that rotting old fence, there was one question standing out from all the others he had no answers for. One question that felt more urgent than the rest put together.
Had he lost his hope somewhere along the way, too?
* * *
SUSANNA NEVER THOUGHT she’d appreciate catching a virus, but that virus was the only thing saving her from a complete meltdown. She simply didn’t have the strength.
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?” Jay asked again. “I don’t want you to get wiped out and not be able to attend Mrs. Harper’s memorial service tomorrow.”
Susanna smiled to reassure him, heart melting, as always, by his concern for her. All his careful plans for the final sale had exploded. He was trying to salvage something from the wreckage of his hopes to leave The Arbors. And now she had an even bigger bomb to drop.
She hadn’t had the heart to tell him of her suspicions. Not until she knew for sure, anyway. And that wouldn’t happen until she took a pregnancy test. Of course, her ob/gyn was in New York, which meant she was considered a new patient with the practice Charles had suggested. The first available appointment was over a month away. She’d go the home pregnancy kit route. But another day or two of denial wouldn’t hurt.
“Jay, I’ve been cooped up in that cottage for four days. I’m happy to get outside. The vitamin D is good for me.” She wouldn’t give up one minute of the time they could spend together. Not now.
He eyed her thoughtfully then gave a decided shake of his head. “All right, then. You sit right in that chair and start absorbing vitamin D. And don’t get up, got it?”
“I thought I was supposed to hand you the tools, so you could show me what to do?” Knowledge she probably would never need now. The chances of this deal happening were looking less promising by the day.
Which left her wondering where Northstar would send her. And how she could possibly leave...especially now. The future loomed before her more uncertain than ever before. How could she possibly work these sorts of hours as a nearly forty-year-old single mother? Just the thought made her head pound. But there was positive thought in there somewhere. Karan was pregnant, too. Maybe Susanna should consider returning to New York, so they could rear their kids together.
Jay eyed her with a frown. “Are you sure you’re—”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t believe her. So she motioned him to get going. Then she sat back and watched him climb the ladder with a wicked curved-blade trimmer. He wore only jeans and a flannel shirt. He didn’t seem to mind the wind that had her bundled up in a layered sweater and jacket. And he looked great with the breeze ruffling his hair, his movements all bristling with contained energy, entirely male.
“This is important, Susanna. Chester knows how to trim back the arbors, but he doesn’t have men to spare.”
“That’s why you do it yourself?”
“Pretty much. But I work at it nonstop for every day after work and on weekends. Takes me the better part of two weeks, and that’s really the only window. If you don’t catch things at the right time, you’ll undermine growth for the entire season. They won’t withstand the cold and will be susceptible to diseases.”
“Sounds like taking care of kids.”
Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.
“Really old kids maybe. My great-grandmother planted most of these when she first came to live here after marrying my great-grandfather. Place was a farm back then.”
“And your family has kept them up ever since?”
“Hard not to. My great-grandmother loved them even when she couldn’t remember she was the one who’d planted them. My grandparents would wheel her out here and let her sit in the shade while they worked on pruning everything. My grandmother took care of them the longest, but my mother was definitely more into them. She added a lot of new vines around the lake. Different strands more climate resistant. They’re the ones you can see from your office. She planted them as a gift for my grandmother on Mother’s Day one year.”
“Your grandmother didn’t get out of that office all that often, I’m guessing.”
Jay shook his head.
“What a thoughtful gift, then.” Like mother like son, apparently. “Walter said they’d be beautiful in spring.”
“They will.”
There was wistfulness in that admission, Susanna was sure. She couldn’t understand Jay. By his own admission he wanted love in his life. He wanted everything she’d been so blessed with—beautiful kids, great family, supportive friends. She’d seen yearning in the way he’d handled everyone over Christmas, the charming, skilled host who never met a stranger.
But he lived such an isolated life.
Why had his world narrowed until it only encompassed work, and her? She wanted to know more than anything and wondered if he even knew.
“I gave Chester the name of the arborist I use.” Jay trimmed back dry twigs skillfully, letting them drop to the path below. “Don’t need him all that often, but when something comes up, it’s best to call right away. He can handle anything if we catch it quickly enough. In fact, if everything does work out, it might be best to pay him to visit regularly. He’s got a service. The money for upkeep has always come from the household budget, but that might have to change if Northstar does takes over. Guess I should put all this in the manual. I hadn’t factored in the logistics of upkeep.”
That was a significant admission for a man who’d tried to cover every base. This whole situation boiled down to Jay and what he was willing to live with. Would he be able to walk away and trust her, anyone, with his legacy?
The Arbors. The residents. The staff. The arbors that his great-grandmother had planted. He knew everything about these flowers, his green thumb passed down genetically.
A gift she hoped he would pass along.
She took notes as he showed her where to cut back on each variety of vine, how the wisteria differed from the peonies from the lilacs. He explained why it was so important to slant each cut to minimize the risk of disease. He brought the care of these flowers to life until she could almost see this knowledge being handed down generation to generation.
So she listened and jotted notes as Jay spoke in that deep-silk voice until the futility of her notes finally got the better of her.
“Do you think you’ll need to finish the manual, Jay?”
He was a long time in answering. “I’m having a hard time thinking clearly about everything.”
“Oh.”
To her surprise, he hung the clippers on the ladder and climbed down. Grabbing the bottled water from beside the toolbox of garden supplies, he took a deep swig. Then he sat down on the top of the box and faced her.
“I wasn’t going to bring this up until you were feeling a little better, but I’m thinking of taking off for a while if you’d be willing to
cover for me here.”
She forced herself not to feel, not to automatically jump to conclusions. Instead, she let his words filter through her. She could make sense of them later when she had time. And she’d have plenty.
He wanted to leave.
Not forever.
“You’ll trust me to cover for you?’
Something about that appeared to soften the hard lines around his mouth. Reaching for her hands, he cradled them both within his, as if he knew about the chill that was freezing her from the inside out. “Yeah, I trust you to cover for me. That’s one of the things that’s making it a little hard to think straight. I trust you with the place completely.”
“But I work for Northstar.”
“But you work for Northstar. If I were leaving the place in your care, I’d feel okay about leaving.” He met her gaze with those big green eyes that let her see inside. “If I were leaving the place to you then I don’t really want to leave. That’s one of the other things that’s making it hard to think straight.”
“Oh.” She was surprised by his honesty. Not necessarily by his words. He may not have come out and admitted he cared about her, but it was there in this thoughtfulness. Care in his surprises. Care in his kisses. Care in his every action.
He cared. She didn’t question that.
“You want me to hold down the fort while you’re gone?”
He gave her hands a squeeze. “Would you mind if I go? I’ve got some decisions to make, and the clock is still ticking. I technically don’t have to give Northstar an answer until the end of the transition period, but I don’t want to hold them up if I know I’m not going to be comfortable with what they’ve got to offer. But there are so many things to consider, and everything feels contingent on everything else. I really need to think things through, and I can’t seem to do that here.”
He lifted her hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. “I’m afraid you’ve complicated everything.”
“I know.”
And she did. Because he’d done the same for her. In more ways than he knew if her suspicions were right. The signs were all there. The weepiness. The exhaustion. The mood swings. Even her body felt more alive, but she’d attributed that to having a younger lover who’d made her feel like a woman again.
She hadn’t had the heart to include him in her suspicions on top of everything else. Now she was glad. He’d been so invested in leaving. She still wasn’t sure why, but she did know whatever decision he made, he needed to be at peace with it. Not influenced by more obligation. This time to her and a child.
In addition to the residents, the staff, the arbors...
“Any idea where you’ll go?” she asked.
He looked relieved. “Not really. Just away. It’s been so long since I’ve left for more than a few days. Not since before—” He squeezed her hands again. “Thank you. I won’t leave until you’re feeling better. I should probably finish up the trimming before I go, too.”
Which he’d already said would take the better part of two weeks. “I’d like you to ask for my opinion.”
That made him grin. “What do you think, Susanna?”
“I think you should take me to Mrs. Harper’s memorial service tomorrow then spend the rest of the day wrapping up whatever you need to wrap up. I think you should call that arborist you were telling me about and get a crew in here to do this job. Chester and I can oversee the work if that’ll put you at ease. Then I think you should pack your bags and go.”
“I won’t leave until you feel—”
“I’ll be back at work Monday whether you’re here or not.” Now it was her turn to press her mouth to his knuckles, rest her cheek against his strong hand. “Go.”
This kind, thoughtful man had been operating on obligation for too long from what Susanna could see. She would never keep his child from him, if they had made one together, but she could give him the gift of some time to figure out what he wanted.
* * *
SUSANNA SET THE DECORATIVE plaque on top of her computer monitor, where she’d be sure to see it every time she sat down at this desk.
You can’t change the past, but you can ruin the present by worrying over the future.
Karan excelled at finding perfect gifts because to Karan shopping was an art form. And she knew Susanna would have too much time to “catastrophize” with Jay gone, and being forced to deal with the dot on the pregnancy test.
When Susanna came right down to it, she didn’t care how many states currently separated them. She simply hadn’t been able to face that little dot without her best friend by her side—or over the cell phone in this case.
The dot turned pink.
Karan had been kind. She’d blown off some hospital function with Charles to help Susanna process this life-altering confirmation. For hours, killing one cell phone battery and forcing Susanna to plug into an outlet, she and Karan had hashed through the stages of denial, anger, bargaining and depression before Susanna arrived at grudging acceptance. All the while Karan had pointed out the positives of the situation.
No more empty nest.
They’d be pregnant together, and who would have ever thought that would happen?
Susanna had already practiced her parenting skills, so rearing this child should be a piece of cake.
The enormity of the situation overwhelmed Susanna. Not during the days when work distracted her, but at night, alone in the cottage, without Jay. But she had Butters and Gatsby, her temporary roommates and constant companions through the long, quiet nights as she worked around the cottage or read.
Even now, as she spun her chair around and glanced at the lake, she could see them loping along beside Chester as he trekked toward the arbors to check on the trimming crew.
Butters and Gatsby were as out of sorts as she was. Jay’s absence impacted everything. This place seemed quieter without his larger-than-life presence to fill the halls. His laughter. His camaraderie with his staff. His concern for the residents.
He was so determined to sell this place and leave. He’d explained some very rational reasons for wanting to go, even. Expansion of the facility. For a chance to live his own life instead of overseeing the lives of everyone around him.
Susanna saw firsthand how insular life could become on these sixty acres and understood why Jay might feel as if leaving was the only way to break free.
But she didn’t understand why he couldn’t live his own life here, when he was clearly conflicted about selling The Arbors. How hard could it possibly be to live when his whole life had set exactly that example?
To get away the way he’d left now?
Or go out to dinner in town with friends or invite the guys over to watch a game?
Or fall in love, get married and raise a family in this amazing place that was his family home?
Didn’t seem that difficult from where Susanna stood.
Yes, The Arbors could be consuming, but only if she let it be. She had a learning curve and an empty nest. The immersion method of work suited her situation right now. She’d needed the distraction, hoping that when she finally came up for air, she’d know what came next.
Now she knew. At least some of what to expect.
She’d be a mom again.
During the time of her life when she’d expected to become a grandparent—not too soon, of course. But once the kids got through school and started their own lives. But now she’d be starting fro
m scratch with her own new little one.
The very thought made her catch her breath.
Yes, overwhelmed, but excited, too.
She couldn’t begin to imagine how Jay would feel with his life and his expectations up in the air, already feeling so obligated to everyone. But she also couldn’t help but wonder why a man who’d lived his entire life on this property couldn’t balance life and work a little better.
She was missing something. That much she knew.
So she stared into the morning, watched Chester and the dogs vanish into the arbors that Jay’s mother had planted as a thoughtful gift for the woman who’d once occupied this office. And a question occurred to her. Spinning toward the desk, she glanced at her decorative plaque and smiled. Then she accessed the archived residents’ database and typed in a name.
Canady.
An entry popped up: Felicia Hayes Canady. Susanna scanned the biographical information.
Jay’s mother.
Suddenly a piece of the puzzle of this man she’d fallen in love with, the man she’d reproduced with, fell into place. She hadn’t made this connection before.
Pulling up a web search engine, she inputted the name and discovered links leading to stories, anthology collections, even a biography on a publishing house website. She clicked on the link and found a promotional shot of a lovely blonde woman with laughter in her big green eyes.
Without giving herself time to think better of this impulsive course of action, Susanna hopped up from her chair and headed straight to Walter’s office.
He was behind his desk hard at work, a cup of coffee—he didn’t complain about the new blend—at his elbow, reading glasses poised at the end of his nose.
He glanced up and smiled absently. “Good morning, Susanna. What may I do for you?”
She went to him and half sat on the edge of his desk, drawing his surprised glance. “I have a question. If you’re not comfortable answering, please just say so. I don’t know who else to ask. I know how much you care and I trust this conversation will stay between us.”
The Time of Her Life Page 25