The River House

by Carla Neggers

  She looked across the quiet road to woods that rose steeply to the top of Moss Hill itself. The trees with their lush foliage and evergreen needles were unmoving under the blue summer sky. As teenagers, Mark and Gabe both had vowed to get out of Knights Bridge and never return. They’d been ambitious and driven, determined not to repeat their father’s mistakes and drift through life, dreaming and complaining about what might have been. Mark’s vow never to return hadn’t stuck. After a few years in Boston, he moved back to his hometown, launched a successful business as an architect and married Jessica Frost, who’d never lived anywhere else.

  Gabe had never returned to Knights Bridge to live.

  Felicity hadn’t expected to return, either, but she had never made any vows to the contrary. Her hometown was small and a bit off the beaten track, changed forever with the construction of the sprawling Quabbin Reservoir early last century. Felicity’s own family had been displaced from Prescott, the smallest of the four small towns lost to history in the now-flooded Swift River Valley. They’d been bankers, accountants and bookkeepers, never farmers and factory workers. She had to be the first MacGregor event planner...now with a party to plan for Gabe Flanagan.

  Mark trotted out from the main building and caught up with her before she started up to the road to her house. He was tawny-haired, blue-eyed and lanky, dressed in a polo shirt and khakis. He and his younger brother bore a strong resemblance to each other, but Gabe’s eyes were a deeper marine blue, his build naturally more muscular.

  “Hey, Felicity,” Mark said. “I just got back from meetings in Worcester. Did Kylie tell you about Gabe?”

  “She did, yes.”

  “Great. I hope it’s not a problem.”

  “No problem. Did he give you a budget?”

  “I’d spend what you need to make it nice and hand him the bill. You know what you’re doing.”

  “Will do.” Felicity hesitated but decided to ask the question gnawing at her. “Does Gabe know I bought the river house?”

  “I might have mentioned it. He knows I sold it.”

  Not the same thing but Felicity didn’t pursue the subject. She motioned up the road. “I should get going.”

  “You walked? Do you need a ride? I can drop you off.”

  “It’s a great day for a walk.”

  Mark didn’t look convinced, but he simply said goodbye and returned to his office.

  Felicity heaved a sigh and crossed the parking lot to the road. She had known Gabe’s name would come up now that she was living in Knights Bridge, and she anticipated she’d run into him at some point. He’d attended Mark and Jess’s wedding last September. Felicity had been invited but had been on the road for a major conference that weekend, her last before giving notice. She doubted she’d have attended even without a conflict. She hadn’t wanted to risk any unresolved, long-buried emotions rising to the surface. Mark’s wedding wouldn’t have been the right time or place for her and Gabe to see each other again.

  The entrepreneurial boot camp wasn’t the right time or place, either, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  She came to a narrow bend in the river and crossed a red-painted covered bridge, a plaque noting it had been built in 1845. She veered off onto a one-lane paved road that wound through open fields then toward the river. It looped back to the river road, but Felicity’s house was located on the curve, tucked among evergreens, oaks, maples and birches on the edge of the steep, wooded riverbank. It was contemporary in style but blended with the landscape, a hallmark of Mark Flanagan’s work. He’d designed and built the house two years ago on land his paternal grandfather had purchased decades ago as a campsite. Mark had lived there for a short time, but he and Jess had opted to restore an old house in the village.

  Felicity turned onto the driveway, which led to a detached garage. Given its connection to the Flanagans, she’d thought twice before she’d toured the house. Then she’d thought more than twice before making an offer.

  And now here she was.

  She’d grown up on a quiet residential street near the high school, but she’d loved to ride her bike out along the river. Her parents still lived in town but were visiting friends in Virginia. They’d retired a year ago. Her father had presided over the local bank, and her mother had been a CPA in town. They’d loved their work and now they loved retirement. Felicity’s older brother—her only sibling—had followed their father into banking and lived outside Amherst with his wife, a hospital administrator, and their two small children. The little ones—a boy and a girl—loved to visit their aunt Felicity and get into her supply closet. Stickers, ribbons, balloons, streamers, markers, paints, colored pencils, paper of all types and sizes. Kid heaven. She’d finally had to lay down a few rules after they’d decorated her house one time too many.

  Her parents had never trusted Gabe. Not that they’d ever said so outright. Not their style, but Felicity was adept at reading between the lines. “Driven, ambitious, not ready to settle down.” Those and many similar comments had been code for “stay away.”

  If only she’d listened.

  Restless and on the verge of being out of sorts, she bypassed the front door and went up the stairs to the back deck. The views of the river, the sounds of the water coursing over rocks and the potential for a variety of gardens had sold her on the house. It was perfect for days such as today. Its history was just part of the deal. She’d weighed the pros and cons of buying the house. There were many pros. Convenience, size, cost, quality, landscaping, layout, proximity to friends and family. The only serious drawback: her history with the property.

  Gabe.

  She sat at her square wood table, shaded by oak, hemlocks and white pine at the back of the house, above the river. People often said Knights Bridge had the feel of a place where time had stopped. Since moving back to her hometown, Felicity sometimes felt as if time had gone backward for her, but she hoped that would pass once she finished decorating and made the place completely hers. Gabe’s unexpected appearance at the boot camp wouldn’t help. She could be a professional about it. They weren’t teenagers anymore. They weren’t even friends.

  Today was Wednesday and the boot camp was Saturday.

  It’d be done and dusted in no time, and he’d be gone to wherever he was hanging his hat these days.

  Feeling calmer, Felicity listened to the rustle of leaves in a light breeze, stirring the stillness of the summer afternoon. Through high school, she and Gabe would come out to his grandfather’s “camp” on the river to sneak down to their personal swimming hole, play cards by a campfire, meet up with friends. They were in the same class, but as an October baby, he was almost a year older than she was.

  They’d been tight. Good friends. He’d been a reluctant student with big ambitions after high school. She’d been a good student with no real focus for after graduation. She figured she’d get a degree in finance. Something like that. She’d put a lot of her energy into encouraging Gabe.

  She chewed on her lower lip, pushing back the flood of memories the news about Gabe’s impending return to town had triggered.

  One memory in particular, of a night much like last night had been. Warm, still, starlit. She and Gabe had a fire going in the outdoor fire pit, the only permanent structure then on the Flanagans’ riverfront campsite. They hadn’t needed the fire’s heat. The flames were atmosphere, creating a glow that encompassed just her and Gabe, as if they were in their own little world. They’d been getting ready to leave for separate colleges hundreds of miles apart, feeling the mixed emotions of what lay ahead of them. Fear, uncertainty, excitement, resolve. They’d all bubbled up that night. Neither of them had lived anywhere but Knights Bridge. What would life be like outside their small town?

  “We’ll stay friends,” she’d said, half to herself. “We’ll always be friends, won’t we, Gabe?”

  “Always, Felicity. Always.”
/>   He hadn’t hesitated. She’d believed him, had needed to hear—wanted to hear—those words.

  Later, with the fire dying and stars glistening overhead, they’d gotten carried away.

  Felicity let out a long breath. It’d been a wild night. No question. She wondered if Gabe even remembered it.

  She put it out of her mind. Her life in Knights Bridge was good. Fun, energizing, busy. It was different from where she thought she’d end up when she’d left for college in upstate New York, and maybe it wasn’t what her friends and family or anyone else had expected.

  No maybe about it. It was definitely not what anyone had expected.

  “Except Gabe.”

  The words were out before she could stop them.

  She could hear him now, on a cold February morning three years ago—the last time she’d seen him. “You have to do what you want to do, Felicity. You’re doing what everyone expects you to do.”

  “What if what everyone expects and what I want are the same thing?”

  “They aren’t.”

  That was Gabe. Always so certain.

  No way had he changed in three years.

  Sometimes she wished he’d fought harder to maintain their friendship, but he hadn’t fought at all. If he had? Would she have taken that first event management job, or with him breathing down her neck would she have tried again as a financial analyst—to prove to him she could do the work, wanted to do the work? Giving up fit right into his ideas about her, but would he have approved of her alternate career? Would he have encouraged her, or would he have told her not to “settle” as a party planner?

  She checked her phone for an email, text or voice mail from Gabe about the boot camp party, but there was nothing. He wouldn’t have understood her choice of new career. He’d have wanted it both ways. She’d face her failure as a financial analyst and come out on the other end in a stable, high-paying job.

  She did fine as a party planner. She’d paid down her debt, reined in her spending and bought a house.

  She sent Saturday’s caterer—a friend from town—a quick email to set up a time to discuss Gabe’s addition to the day.

  She let that be enough for now. She’d work on Kylie’s party and tackle Gabe’s party later.

  She brought all eight books in the Badgers of Middle Branch series out to the deck and set them on the table for inspiration. She grabbed her brainstorming colored pencils and a pad of lined yellow paper and a pad of plain white paper.

  Badgers. She’d think about badgers.

  But she was positive when he’d told her she was hacking away in the wrong jungle and needed to get out of finance that Gabe Flanagan hadn’t envisioned her figuring out how to incorporate badgers into a party at the Knights Bridge public library.

  Two

  Gabe Flanagan looked out at Boston from the living room of his twelfth-floor condo in the heart of Back Bay. He gripped his phone. “Say that again, Mark.”

  His brother didn’t answer at once. Gabe had been home for ten hours after two months in California, working his way down the coast from Sonoma to San Diego on a mix of business and pleasure. He didn’t know whether Mark’s call was business or pleasure. Some of both, maybe.

  “You hired Felicity to handle the party after Dylan’s boot camp,” Mark said.

  “Felicity MacGregor.”

  “None other.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just did.”

  Gabe sighed. Felicity. Mark had no idea what he’d stepped into, but still. “I should throw you in the river when I get there.”

  “You and what army,” his brother said, teasing, as if they were kids again. “I did you a favor. The party’s on. You’re the host. Everyone will be thrilled. You’ll have a great time, and you don’t have to lift a finger.”

  Gabe could see his reflection in the window. His jaw was tight, his angular features and tall, lean frame giving away that he and Mark were brothers. Gabe had put on muscle now that he’d been doing CrossFit for two years, dropping into studios when he was on the road. He’d gone to one yesterday in LA, before his overnight flight to Boston.

  “You told Felicity it was my idea to hire her?” Gabe asked.

  “Yeah. It was simpler. I don’t need to be the middleman.”

  “You are the middleman. I didn’t know anything about it.”

  “Now you do. Why are you jumping down my throat? You should be thanking me. You said you wanted help. I helped.”

  “Do I need to do anything for this party?”

  “Just show up. It’s not much notice, but Felicity’s good at what she does.”

  Mark had mentioned in passing she was an event planner now. She’d started shortly after she and Gabe had fallen out. He’d figured it was something she’d do to make ends meet while she tried to find another finance job, if only to spite him. But she’d stuck with it, obviously. Mark didn’t know the ins and outs of his younger brother’s relationship with Knights Bridge’s own party planner. They were close, but not that kind of close.

  “Okay, thanks,” Gabe said finally.

  “You’re not regretting saying yes to speaking at the boot camp, are you?”

  “It’s a day and then it’s done.”

  A few minutes ago, Gabe would have said he was looking forward to the boot camp. Dylan McCaffrey had invited him when they’d met briefly in San Diego before Gabe had returned to Los Angeles and then flown onto Boston. Mark, who’d designed Dylan and Olivia’s new home in Knights Bridge, had put them in touch with each other. Gabe had accepted the invitation without a second’s thought. A panel discussion on start-ups for an audience of aspiring entrepreneurs? What was there to think about? He was on his way back to Boston, anyway, and he owed his brother in Knights Bridge a visit.

  But he changed the subject. “How’s Jess?” he asked.

  “Puking.”

  “Fun call, Mark. Real fun call. She sick?”

  There was a slight hesitation. “She’s pregnant. I was going to wait until you got here to tell you. Morning sickness came on fast and strong. You’re going to want to rethink staying with us.”

  “Mark...” Gabe stared out at the blend of old and new that was Back Bay, but he found himself picturing Knights Bridge on a warm summer evening. He hadn’t been to the Colonial Revival house Mark and Jess were restoring off Knights Bridge common, but he knew it. Mark specialized in older buildings as an architect and it had made sense—felt right—when he and Jess had bought one of their own. Now they had a baby on the way. “That’s wonderful news, Mark. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Gabe. We’re thrilled.”

  “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

  “Your call. That reminds me. There’s one more thing you should know before you get here. I’ve been meaning to mention it. I know you and Felicity haven’t been close the past few years but thought you’d want to know she bought the house.”

  “What house?”

  “The house we built on the river at the old campsite.”

  Gabe had known Mark had sold the house, but he’d never identified the buyer. Gabe hadn’t asked. He hadn’t wanted to know. He’d contributed ideas and cash to the building of the house but had left everything else to Mark. “Felicity bought it,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “I’m happy it sold to someone who remembers the property as a campsite.”

  Oh, she’d remember it, all right, Gabe thought. “A lot of changes in town.”

  “Tons. It’ll be good to have you back here. See you soon.”

  After he and Mark hung up, Gabe didn’t move from the windows. He watched the city lights twinkling in the fading light. He was going to be an uncle. His brother had a wife, and they were expecting their first child.

  It was a lot. It
was the best.

  He could see himself on a lazy summer afternoon fishing with Mark on the river, in a beat-up canoe they’d discovered buried in their father’s shed. Their mother had just been diagnosed with the breast cancer that would eventually kill her. “We’re going to get out of here, Gabe,” Mark had said, not for the first time. “We’re not going to get stuck here dreaming about a different life. We’re going to get out and never come back except to visit.”

  Mark had stayed away for a while, but he’d returned and now had offices out on the river where he and Gabe had grown up. Things hadn’t worked out the way he’d meant them to when he’d set off for college. They’d worked out even better.

  “They worked out perfectly, brother,” Gabe said, turning from his city view.

  A few minutes later, his phone buzzed and he saw he had a text from Mark: Felicity expects you to get in touch with her about the party.

  What’s there to get in touch about? Place settings?

  Ask her. Ball’s in your court.

  How did the ball get in his court? Gabe gave up. How’s Jess?

  Eating a pastrami sandwich. I don’t know if I can take nine months of this.

  But he could and he would, and he looked forward to it. Mark and Jessica’s wedding announcement last summer hadn’t been a total surprise to Gabe, but earlier in the year he’d wondered if they’d make it. Mark had taken Jess for granted, and she’d shown signs of serious impatience.

  She’d gotten his workaholic brother to take her to Paris. That was something.

  Gabe typed his response: Good thing you like pastrami.