“Look, Nora, I appreciate you two looking out for me, but conspiring to set me up just isn’t what I need right now—and it’s not something Janey needs either,” he said. “Why is it that people in relationships always think everyone else should be in one? Look at you and Nicholas.”
She drank her wine again. Brian knew this was her way of avoiding not just his question but also providing an answer. He’d sensed something was not totally right between them on Thanksgiving, and he had to wonder if it was Nick or Nora. Knowing his friend, it was probably her, as Nicholas was as open and friendly and unassuming as anyone. Nora Connors, formerly Rainer until her divorce had come through last spring, held things tight, though, her thoughts, her emotions. The last thing she’d been looking for was a new man, but Nicholas Casey, whom she had met during a holiday mystery last year, had proved too good to be true, a Renaissance man who appreciated the arts as much as he did a football game.
“Sorry, sore spot?”
Nora was saved having to answer as the front door swung open and Mark Ravens, the relief bartender, who worked three nights a week, entered, out of breath. “Oh man, Brian, what are you doing here? Hey, Nora, sorry, didn’t mean to burst in like this, but I mean, it’s just four o’clock now, time to open, I would have been here sooner, but . . .”
“Relax, Mark. Why not go upstairs and freshen up? I meant to call you, but someone”—he paused, eyes darting Nora’s way—“distracted me.”
“I could take my business elsewhere . . .”
Mark nodded and said thanks, running up the stairs to the apartment he’d been renting out for the last two years with more energy than Brian could recall ever having himself. Guess when you were working two jobs and expecting your first child, you ran on adrenaline more than artificial fuel. As he waited for Mark to return, he saw Nora wander over to the jukebox, plugging it into the wall socket. She pulled out a dollar and slid it into the machine. The dulcet tones of Sinatra filled the room: “Luck Be a Lady.”
“Funny,” Brian remarked.
“Come on, Brian, you’re a good guy. What’s the harm?”
Just then Mark bounded down the stairs. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Brian said emphatically.
“Oh, there’s this cute new woman in town. Cynthia and I told her about Brian.”
“Hey, that’s cool, Brian on a date. Though I still bet on it snowing first.”
Nora laughed. “We’d all take that bet.”
“Ugh,” Brian groaned. “See what I mean about people stuck in relationships? . . . And he’s worse; he’s married. Forget it, both of you. I’m not going on a blind date.”
“Brian Duncan, I don’t believe that for a second,” Nora said. “You have to go.”
“I agree,” Mark said, easing around the bar. “So who is she?”
Nora smiled at both men and then said to Mark, “Your cousin, Trina.”
A wide smile stretched out his scruffy cheeks. “Hey, that’s a great idea . . .”
Brian looked up sharply. “Wait a minute, did you say Trina? I’ve already met her.”
“That’s perfect, then; it won’t be blind after all.”
Brian had a feeling even if he continued to say no he’d get nowhere with either of these two. All he could hope for was the date getting snowed out, but this season, it didn’t seem likely at all, and for a moment Brian thought rather than Christmas looming in the air, Saint Valentine had blown in for an unexpected visit.
CHAPTER 5
CYNTHIA
From the moment Janey arrived for her afternoon visit, Cynthia Knight had been walking on the proverbial eggshells, and now, hours later, the elephant in the room still went undiscussed. And while she knew she was mixing her metaphors, that was the least of her concerns. Janey’s well-being was paramount to anything else today, and so she’d tried several times to broach the topic, each time Janey expertly changing the topic, or just plain walking away, claiming she was going upstairs to play with Jake. Cynthia let it go for now, but avoiding the issue wouldn’t change the fact.
Why had she let Bradley make the announcement like he had?
Didn’t Brian and Janey deserve more consideration, or advance warning?
For the past month or so, she’d known the move was possible. But she’d said nothing, keeping it to herself, even at night while Bradley slept peacefully and she was left staring at the ceiling, considering the fact it would be a different ceiling that would hold her attention soon enough.
Subtlety wasn’t her husband’s style. He couldn’t help it—he was a corporate lawyer, and a frustrated one at that these days, hence the pursuit of something new. He’d been relegated to boring tax law while all along he’d desired courtroom action. That’s where the drama happened, he always said, and it hadn’t helped having Nora Connors in town, a former defense attorney who had awakened Bradley’s ambition. So whenever he got the chance to address a crowd and make a pronouncement, he grabbed it. And that had been the case at Thanksgiving; while everyone else had given thanks for all they had, he’d chosen that precise moment to tell them what the Knights would have after they moved far from Linden Corners. Family, a future. Far indeed, all the way to Texas, where a great new job awaited him, and where they’d be closer to his side of the family. Jake would get to see his grandparents regularly, as well as his cousins. Cynthia, like Annie, had been an only child; it was one of the things they had bonded over. Bradley, though, was one of four children—two boys, two girls—and his siblings were all married, all had a couple of children, and all lived within a few miles of their parents. And now so would they. She knew she should be happy for their entire family because this was a chance to reconnect and give Jake a strong foundation, a connection to his bloodline.
But at what cost to others?
Indeed, the downside was leaving her de facto Linden Corners family. Foremost among those she would miss was Janey Sullivan, the little girl whom she’d met on the day of her birth, whom she had held when she thought she couldn’t have her own child, and whom she’d helped care for after the passing of first her father, Dan, then her mother, Annie. Something no child should have to endure. To not be around her and watch this special girl grow up—it had left Cynthia with many sleepless nights since she and Bradley had made the final decision.
Now, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee long gone cold, she felt a mix of sadness and frustration overwhelm her. With Bradley out running errands and Janey upstairs hovering over Jake like always—though perhaps this time with a bit more cuddliness, as though she were trying to bank a lifetime of hugs—Cynthia wondered if this was how she would feel in her new home. Out of sorts, feeling alone, her heart as empty as Texas was big. But no, she had a feeling her in-laws wouldn’t allow that, nor would her sisters-in-law, who had already expressed interest in helping her get settled.
The ringing of the phone stirred her from her musings.
“Hi, Brian,” she said, the caller ID giving him away.
“How’s Janey?”
“Quiet. Playing with Jake.”
“So she’s not talking?”
“Not about anything, you know, important.”
“Janey’s like the wind, fickle, choosing its own moment to rear up, changing speed and direction on a whim,” he said.
“Well said,” Cynthia said. “And appropriate.”
“Maybe with the night approaching, you can convince her to go out for a walk,” he said. “She tends to open up more when the sun has gone down. Like darkness is better to reveal her private thoughts.”
“Got it. You on your way?”
“I’m at the tavern, got a good crowd, so I’m helping Mark. I’ll see you after dinner?”
“Janey will eat with us and then I’ll bring her back home. See you then.”
Cynthia put down the phone and got up, made her way up the staircase to the bedrooms, where she found Jake asleep and Janey staring at the purple frog she’d brought with her. Cynthi
a had noted its presence earlier, thought it strange but ultimately let it go. Janey might be ten and growing fast, but that didn’t mean an insecure little girl couldn’t still be hiding inside her.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Just hanging out, watching Jake sleep. He’s so peaceful.”
“He’s been cooped up inside all day. I think he might be bored. Come on, let’s go for a walk.”
“A walk, now? It’s getting dark out.”
“Then we better hurry before it swallows us up,” she said. “What do you say, let’s take Jake down to the windmill; we’ll see how things are turning.”
The mention of the windmill always did the trick, Janey bounding off the bed and racing downstairs, her shoes on before Cynthia even had a chance to wrap Jake inside a warm blanket. Soon the three of them were ready for their adventure, the stroller leading the way as they left the confines of the Knights’ farmhouse, an old structure not unlike Brian and Janey’s and one that might be difficult to sell, given the amount of work—fresh coat of paint outside, maybe a new roof—it needed. Cynthia started to lead them down the driveway intentionally, even though it was in the opposite direction of the windmill.
“Hey, where are we going?”
“Oh, I want to check the mail.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“And yesterday Bradley and I were so busy, we forgot.”
She hoped she sounded believable. Regardless, she continued to trek down the blacktop, her reason for the change in course creeping up in the dying light of the day. With Janey’s hand in hers, she noticed that a bit of wind had started up across the open field, and she stole a look down at a content Jake, who stared back with eyes wide.
“He’s awake,” Janey remarked.
“You know he loves his walks. Seeing the big, bright world.”
“It’s not very bright now. The moon is going to rise soon.”
“So we’ll walk by moonlight. That’s just perfect on a walk like this; it will guide us.”
They came to the edge of the driveway and Cynthia made an effort to check the roadside mailbox, even though she knew Bradley had retrieved the mail yesterday. She snapped down the door and dug her hand inside, feeling nothing but air. A second later she pulled out an empty hand.
“Know what that means? No bills.”
But Janey was no longer paying attention, her eyes having focused on the metal sign that was staked to the front lawn, just a few feet from the mailbox. It was bending in the wind, like it wanted to be swept away to somewhere beyond reality. FOR SALE, it read, and below named a Realtor in nearby Hillsdale, two phone numbers included. Cynthia knew that coming here had been manipulative, but she wanted to get Janey talking and this was all she could come up with. Janey turned her face back to Cynthia, her nose scrunched up.
“Come on, you said the windmill,” she stated, pointing her finger west. “It’s that way.”
So much for outsmarting a ten-year-old. Cynthia resigned herself to another tactic, perhaps another day, and let Janey lead the way, even allowing her to take command of the stroller as its wheels traveled over the low field of grass. She noticed too that Janey had slipped her free hand back into hers, leaving her heart swelling and a tear leaking from her eye.
“That wasn’t very subtle of me, was it?” she asked.
“Not very. I mean, I saw the sign when Brian dropped me off.”
Of course she had.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m still not used to the idea.”
“Why? Don’t you want to move?”
Wow, this kid didn’t pull any punches: she went right to the core issue. “Sweetie, it’s complicated, and of course a big decision—one of the biggest I’ve ever made. But, yes, as much as I don’t like the idea of leaving, I know it’s something that will mean good things for our family. Jake will meet his cousins and Bradley will see more of his parents, who are getting on in years, and I’ll get to bond with his siblings and their families.”
“Then that’s what you have to do,” Janey said matter-of-factly. “Ooh, the hill is steep; maybe you should take the stroller back. Jake needs you now.”
Janey handed over the reins, breaking her connection with Cynthia. Which told her a big shift had occurred, Janey’s seeming acceptance of the situation burrowing deep underground. So she knew she would have to force the issue even more. She steeled herself for when Janey’s tightly controlled emotions erupted. The three of them circled around the edge of the Knights’ property, beyond the old silo, which was no longer in operation, and toward a copse of trees that acted as the border between their land and that of the Sullivan farmhouse. A gurgling stream cut through the land, water bubbling over rocks; sometimes it flooded out over the land when the snow melted, but that was hardly a problem today with the ground so hard. A stone-cobbled bridge that curved upward allowed them to cross the stream, and they did so, and at last they reached the top of the hill. Coming into view was the windmill, its sails turning more fiercely than usual in the growing wind. It was like a new storm was making its way toward Linden Corners, but with the warmth blowing past them it could only mean rain. Still no snow.
“Cynthia, can I ask you a question?”
“You know you can ask me anything.”
Janey stopped, looked up at her with serious eyes. “How come I don’t have any family?”
Cynthia’s grip on the stroller grew stronger, the question so filled with emotion. “Family comes in many forms, Janey. You have Brian, and you have me . . .”
“I know all that, and I’m lucky to have all of you,” she said. “But what you said about all those people in Bradley’s family . . . I mean, wow, siblings and cousins, nephews and nieces . . . Hey, that makes the two of you aunts and uncles. Sounds like Christmas could be lots of fun, but also a very full house.”
“Well, that’s not something we have to worry about this year,” she said.
“It’s not?”
“Janey, we’ll be here for Christmas.”
“Oh, okay. I like that.”
“But that hardly answers your question,” she said.
They had begun the downward journey toward the windmill, the dark night enveloping them deeper. In the distance she could see a dim light emanating from the kitchen of Janey’s house, but she knew it was just a safety light, not an indication that Brian had returned. This discussion and its result were all on Cynthia. They continued walking and talking, the windmill’s power drawing them ever closer.
“I don’t have any aunts and uncles, do I?” Janey asked.
“Why are you asking me?”
“You knew my mom the best; you were her best friend.”
“That’s true, Janey. Which makes you and me best friends once removed.”
She scrunched her nose over that one. “Mama never had any brothers and sisters. I guess neither did my dad, not that I’ve ever heard. Don’t you think that’s kind of weird? I mean, you’d think one of them would have, right?”
“Actually, Janey, it’s what they bonded over. The fact that both were only children.”
Janey grew quiet, as though considering such an idea. “I guess I never thought about that or anything like . . . a bond.”
“Well, they loved each other.”
“Like you love Bradley?”
“Yes.”
“And you made a baby, like my parents made me.”
Cynthia had to wonder where this was going. “Well, that’s how it works, Janey.”
“I wonder if I might have had a sibling, you know, if my father . . .”
“I know this for a fact, Janey Sullivan. Yes, they wanted more. They didn’t want you to have the same experience growing up as they did.”
“But that’s what happened.”
“That’s the thing about life, Janey. You can’t predict anything,” she said. “You just have to live with your heart.”
“I think I would have liked having a brother or sister.”
“Well, t
he way you are with Jake, you would have made an excellent older sister.”
“Do you think I still can be? You know, if Brian gets married and they have a child?”
“Oh, Janey, I think that’s a long way off.” Cynthia, though, found herself laughing aloud despite the seriousness of the conversation. She knew Brian had dated and even been engaged a couple of times in his life, but since he’d assumed guardianship of Janey he’d practically been a monk. Not that she wasn’t trying to change that, and for a moment she wondered if trying to set him up on a date was for him, or for her, or even for Janey. “Come on, it’s getting late and dark and I need to put some dinner on the table. Let’s say hello to your mom and then make our way back. Jake’s starting to fuss.”
“Okay, but can I ask one more question?”
“Sure, sweetie.”
“Since I don’t have any grandparents either, do you think Brian’s parents will let me call them Grandma and Grandpa? They’re so . . . formal.”
Cynthia smiled, tousling her hair. “Now, I know you think I have magic answers for everything, but I think that’s one you’re going to have to check with Brian about. Remember how you struggled with the decision to call him Dad?” She paused and then said, “Are you worried about them coming for Christmas?”
“It sure will be different. Christmas, wow,” Janey said, altering the subject only slightly. “This year will be our third, me and Dad. I think we’ve used up all the good gifts.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I’m sure Brian has something special up his sleeve.”
A smile lit Janey’s face, and that was when she suddenly took off across the field, her legs pumping as she laid open her arms as though she were about to take to the gusting wind. Down the hill she ran, the windmill looming up before her. Cynthia did her best to keep up with her but had to consider the uneven terrain and the wheels of the stroller. As she eventually made her way toward the base of the windmill, Janey was running circles around it, trying to keep up with the sails, laughing as she did so, her arms reaching up as though wanting to touch far beyond the sails and into the windswept sky that threatened to close in around her.
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