The woman punched at buttons on her machine and then pushed her glasses up her nose. “Aye, we can. As long as chocolate peanut butter cups will do. Mr. Daniels takes his that way, so we keep them on hand.”
“That would be lovely.” Claire paid and waited for her order at the second counter. Would the barista tell Evan that Claire had used some of his reserve peanut butter cups? Not that it mattered. She was allowed to take her drink however she wanted it. It wasn’t just because of him that she wanted hot chocolate made a certain way. When they called her name she snagged her drink and then made her way to Kendall.
Kendall’s gigantic mug was almost empty. She eyed Claire’s cup. “Don’t tell me you got the Screaming Joe.”
The owner of Fair Tradewinds Coffee was known for making strange drink concoctions and tricking tourists into buying them. The shop was famous for the Screaming Joe, a cup supposedly filled with equal portions of coffee and hot sauce...and who knew what else. Throughout the summer younger tourists could be seen attempting to down a cup of it with tears streaming down their faces. Somehow, they all still came, drank and uploaded photos of each other chugging the horrible mix. It had become a can’t-miss stop for many visitors.
Claire grinned. “Afraid not. Just hot cocoa.”
“Not coffee. Who is this new Claire? I don’t even know you!” Kendall tugged out the chair closest to her and patted the seat. “I feel like we haven’t gotten to catch up in ages.”
“That’s because you’re busy planning your wedding!” Claire lowered her bag and mug onto the table and gave Kendall a quick side hug. “And soon you’ll be all married and I won’t be able to catch up with you at all.”
“No way.” Kendall pulled a face. “Marriage isn’t going to change that. You know how much Brice needs his alone time! I’ll leave him at home to introvert while you and me paint the town.”
Claire stirred her hot cocoa, helping the peanut butter cup melt. “I still can’t believe Brice is completely fine with us being friends.”
Kendall pushed her empty mug to the center of the table and gave Claire a thoughtful look. “Brice is my soon-to-be husband, not my boss. He doesn’t decide who is my friend and who isn’t.” She eased her elbows onto the table and sank her chin into her hands. “I mean, yes, I ask and want his advice. But he knows how much I care about you and that you’re my best and, seriously, my first real gal pal.” She let one of her hands drop to cover Claire’s. “He’s just happy for me. That’s what he really wants. Me to be happy.”
Claire slipped her hand free and picked up her cup. “Sounds nice.”
Kendall’s brow furrowed. “Do I hear skepticism?”
“No skepticism here. I promise.” She took a sip, but it was still too hot, so she set down her cup. “Okay, I guess it just seems too good to be true.” She shrugged out of her coat and hung it over the back of her chair. “I’ve watched my parents. My dad tells me and my mom who we can and can’t talk to, be friends with, associate with. He has always had total say. It’s hard to believe it’s not like that in all relationships.” Claire lowered her voice as she spoke, knowing that if her father found out she’d said such things he’d have plenty of words for her.
Thankfully, the coffee shop was crowded and loud, and they would be hard to overhear.
“Claire, you’re a grown woman. You don’t have to do what he says anymore.”
“Sure.” Claire gave a humorless laugh that held a bitter edge. “I’m a grown woman who got a lot of advanced degrees on my dad’s dime. Then I failed at doing the one thing that would have made both my parents happy.”
Kendall pursed her lips, considering her for a heartbeat before speaking again. “Do you mean backing out of things with Auden?”
Kendall was the only one who knew the entire backstory of Auden Pierce, and why Claire had ended things with him. Her friend had been supportive and encouraging, and Claire appreciated that, but she really hoped Kendall hadn’t told Brice or Evan all the things she’d trusted her with. Could she really trust anyone? Claire’s gut told her no—people were always looking for a way to one-up each other, or use information for personal gain. But so far, Kendall had done nothing to warrant such doubt.
Claire watched the steam from her cocoa leech into the air. “I don’t know if it was my mom or dad who was more disappointed. All my dad has ever asked of me was to marry a guy who could be trusted to run his business someday. Auden could have done that.” Claire ended with a shrug.
“But you didn’t love him.”
“Who knows? When it comes to love—at least romantic love—I don’t think I’d know it even if it was staring me in the eye. I thought I knew...but it burned me in the past.” She laced her fingers around her cup and took a long drink, avoiding Kendall’s searching gaze.
That wasn’t right either, though, because Evan hadn’t loved her. He couldn’t have. If Claire understood anything about love she at least knew that it didn’t abandon people.
However, Claire had loved Evan completely. She’d loved him so much her heart had ached for years after they’d split. Like a lovesick puppy, she’d written to him during her freshman year of college, begging for an explanation. Evan had never written back.
That was not love.
She would never lose herself to that feeling again, fall so hard that she was blinded to the truth—that a guy would never love her like she’d once thought Evan had. Not while she carried the name Atwood like a heavy weight around her neck. Her father’s influence was a part of every relationship in her life, even her friendship with Kendall. They were friends because Claire had originally served as the go-between when Kendall and her father had been silent business partners.
Claire needed to say something before Kendall started asking probing questions, as she was known to do.
“Auden is a lot like my father. He was always busy and only there for me when it was convenient or beneficial to him. We probably would have had a fine marriage. He was respectful enough.”
“Respectful enough? Claire, do you even hear yourself?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes I think I should have gone through with the wedding. If we were married now, my parents would be thrilled.”
An image came to mind. Alex. She’d dropped him off for a playdate at the Holcombs’ apple orchard on her way to coffee. Auden had made it clear that he wanted only biological children. She’d started the adoption paperwork behind his back in a moment when she was doubting their relationship. She’d always had a desire to adopt children, and Auden constantly shut her down whenever the topic came up. That’s what had given her the courage to break off their engagement in the end.
“Look at me.” Kendall snapped her fingers. “You did the right thing. Hear that. Take that in—don’t question it. And do you want to hear something else?”
Claire placed her now empty cup beside Kendall’s. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me whether I say yes or no, so go ahead.”
“You love me because I say whatever I want.”
“You’re right.”
Kendall reached over and gathered both Claire’s hands into her own. She squeezed them until Claire met her eyes. “Right here, right now, I’m freeing you from the need to please your parents.”
“What?” Claire tried to pull her hands away, but Kendall held firm.
“As of this day, you no longer are responsible for your parents’ happiness. The only ones you should be worried about pleasing are God and yourself. That’s it. End of list.”
Kendall finally let go. Claire wove her fingers together in her lap and looked down at them. “Easy for you to say.”
“Wrong. That’s actually superdifficult for me to say.” Kendall tapped the table. “Until last year, I believed my father had walked out on me because he didn’t want me. For years, so many years, I tried to prove that I was worth lov
ing, and you know what? God loved me that whole time. I didn’t have anything to prove. It was all useless striving.”
She made a grand sweeping motion with her hand. “I’m free of that now and it feels so...so good to know I’m loved for me—by God, by Brice, by you.” She pressed her fingertips over her heart. “And you know my life isn’t perfect. My mom is gone, Claire. I may never see her again. She can’t accept that I’m a Christian now or that I’ve put boundaries on my life that she doesn’t agree with. If I focus on all that it upsets me, but I can’t live to please her, either.”
Claire knew Kendall’s story and found encouragement in it, but they were different scenarios. “I still live with my parents. It makes it all very tricky.”
“That is a tightrope to walk, I’ll give you that.” Kendall waggled her finger. “Can I ask about your run for mayor? Is that your doing or your dad’s?”
“He was just as surprised as everyone else. Of course, he’s happy now that he thinks I might become the mayor, because he’s imagining all the ways it could benefit him. But I chose to run.” Claire traced a coffee ring on the table. “I wanted... I know it sounds childish, but for once I wanted to matter to this town beyond my connection to the name Atwood. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” Kendall nodded enthusiastically. “And I support you in making decisions like this on your own. I want you to keep on this track.”
“But I don’t have your vote?” Claire gave her friend a wry smile, letting her know she was kidding.
Kendall grinned back. “You are running against my sweet soon-to-be brother-in-law. He loves this place, too.”
“I know he does.”
“Speaking of, Brice talked to Evan the other night and he said something about the board running you guys through a battery of tests. Did I hear that right?” Kendall rose to her feet and Claire did likewise. They both gathered their belongings and headed outside. Kendall had a meeting with the chef who would be catering her wedding that she had to get to.
Light snow cascaded across the lake, fat, puffy snowflakes. The kind that made Claire want to try to catch one on her tongue...if she wasn’t in the middle of downtown, where anyone could see her. Maybe she’d convince Alex to go play outside with her later. She needed to practice for tomorrow’s first event and that could be her excuse.
“It’s an old tradition that the town hasn’t needed to make good on until now,” Claire explained. “We have to engage in friendly competitions that prove we are well-spoken and have problem-solving skills, creativity and the ability to work on a team.” She had parked next to Kendall’s car, so they headed toward the parking lot side by side. “For problem solving the math teachers from the high school are putting together an exam for us to take, and tomorrow Evan and I have to build snow sculptures in the square to demonstrate how creative we are.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kendall laughed so hard she snorted. “Goose Harbor is the best place ever.”
“It’s definitely unique.” Claire clicked the button on her key fob to unlock the doors. “For the teamwork challenge Evan and I have to plan a fund-raiser together to host on the Saturday of Valentine’s weekend.”
Kendall grabbed her arm and her eyes went wide. “That’s less than two weeks away! I plan events for a living and even I think that’s madness.”
“Tell that to Mr. Banks.”
“No way!” She gave an exaggerated shiver. “I’m terrified of him. What about the last one? How do you prove you’re well-spoken?”
“That one’s easy, at least. We’ll both have the floor in a town hall meeting before voting opens on the day of the election. I’m not worried about that part.”
No, it was only 100 percent of the rest of the challenges that had Claire second-guessing her decision. And not for the first time, either.
* * *
Someone was pounding on Evan’s front door.
He considered going upstairs to put his contacts in, but decided against it. His eyesight wasn’t terrible. He ran a cloth over his countertop, because it looked like Laura had engaged in a late night snack and had left the crumbs as evidence. Then he tossed the rag into the sink and jogged to answer the door. The second he flipped the lock the door swung open. He had to jump to the side to get out of the way.
Brice tossed a newspaper at him. “Have you seen this?”
Evan scrambled to catch the paper and fumbled a couple times. When he finally had it, he jammed the newsprint under his arm and squinted at his brother. “Good morning?”
Brice rarely showed up at his house unannounced...rarely ventured to his house at all. For him to come over something must be—
Evan froze. “Please tell me Mom and Dad are all right.” It was an irrational question, but so many of their adult years had revolved around putting out fires for their parents that it came out automatically.
Brice frowned. “You think they would call me before you? Not likely. You’re the golden child. They both hate me.”
An apology crawled its way up Evan’s throat for the thousandth time, but he swallowed it. How did a man go about telling his brother he was sorry that their mother doted on one son, while she was cruel and hurtful to the other? Brice didn’t like to discuss their childhood, how he’d taken punch after punch from their father, while Evan had left the house basically unscathed. Evan owed Brice everything.
His brother climbed onto one of the bar stools. “Have you heard from either of them lately?”
“Dad’s been gone for a couple weeks.” Evan padded over to the kitchen island and laid the newspaper on the counter. “Mom’s not sure where he’s at this time. She’s okay. The same. The house is a wreck but you know that. I told her I’d hire a company to come clear it out, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Sounds about right.” Brice pointed up to indicate the second story of the house. “How’s Laura?”
Evan scrubbed his hand over his face. “Sleeping. They practice late for the musical.”
His brother propped his hands together and pressed the sides of his pointer fingers to his lips. “Are you sure she’s not just telling you it lets out late?”
“She’s not lying to me.”
It was for the best that Laura had moved in with Evan. Brice meant well, but he was too overbearing sometimes, especially when it came to their youngest sibling. Evan got the feeling that Brice believed he had failed their brother Andrew, so he had to make up for it by not failing their sister. Whenever the topic of Andrew’s disappearance came up, Brice harped on the fact that he should have, could have, done more to be there for him. He’d become even more protective of Laura once Andrew left.
Brice arched an eyebrow. “She’s seventeen and I know she’s got more than one guy after her.”
“Have a little faith in her. She’s a good kid.”
“When you were seventeen—” Brice tapped the stone countertop “—you and Claire were off sneaking around together. If—”
“Then let’s be thankful that our sister is a better person than I was at that age,” Evan interrupted. It wasn’t often that they disagreed, or that he pushed back on anything Brice wanted, but for their sister he would. “Laura’s not me, so let’s not make wild assumptions based on my mistakes.”
Brice straightened in the chair. Rolled his shoulders. Were they going to argue?
But then—“You’ll make a good father someday.”
Evan ran his tongue over the back of his teeth; his mouth tasted sour. “I’m not interested in being a dad.”
“Yes you are.”
He was, but being a dad meant having a woman in his life, and he’d long ago come to the conclusion that he couldn’t live up to what a woman needed in a man. What kind of guy let his own brother take beatings for him? Or left the person he loved because of blackmail? Every time he thought abou
t it Evan was left feeling...less. Less than Brice. Less than a man.
His eyes burned. He had to stop thinking about that part of his life. He had a good business; he enjoyed his neighbors and had an excellent relationship with most of his siblings. Wanting more out of life was greedy and wrong.
“Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but why’d you stop by?”
“The front page. Give it a look.” Brice yanked off his baseball hat and wound it around in his hands.
Evan yawned. “I woke up all of about ten minutes ago, so give a guy a second.”
Brice jabbed his finger at the picture on the front page. “Did you know they were going to run an article like this?”
His eyes finally came into focus. The front page had a large picture of him and Claire on the steps of the town hall building. It was one of the first shots Jason had taken—of them standing back-to-back. Another smaller picture showed the two of them on the swings.
Evan grabbed a box of cereal from the top of his fridge and started eating a handful.
Brice shook his head, clearly trying to hide the fact that he wanted to smile. “There’s a cartoon character on your breakfast.” He tapped the box.
“Yup.” Evan tossed another handful of cereal into his mouth. “It has marshmallows, too. Want some?”
“I had eggs and bacon at home.” Brice examined the side of the box where the nutritional information was printed. “You feed Laura this kind of stuff?”
“I give her money and send her to the grocery store and she comes back with this. It’s wonderful.”
“You’re making me think that her moving here wasn’t a good idea.”
“Oh, stop being grumpy. When push comes to shove, you know I cook significantly better than you. At your house it’s meat and nothing else. Here, I toss in the occasional seasoning.” He held the paper close enough to get the print into focus and read the headline. “Ten Reasons to Vote for Claire Atwood.”
Brice folded his hands together and nodded. “Interesting, wouldn’t you say?”
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