My heart stopped when I came to a gray stone with the familiar name carved into it. I was a little bit nervous. I did not want to be here.
"Hi," I said quietly.
I hadn't gone to the funeral. I couldn't bring myself to be a part of any of it. My therapist told me that it was a personal choice and no one could judge me for it — most importantly, I shouldn’t judge myself for not going. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt guilty for not going and taking the opportunity to say goodbye then.
"You're probably wondering why I'm here. I know I didn’t come to the funeral, and I know you've been here for three months, and this is my first visit." I laughed self-consciously. "The truth is… I couldn't come. Not because I was scared...but because I didn't know what I would say to you. I wasn't ready to say anything to you.
"I've been seeing a therapist. She's been really helpful, helping me to see why I made the decisions I did...especially where you were concerned. She helped me figure out what I should say to you today."
I placed the bouquet of red roses in front of the headstone and pressed my hand to the cool, granite surface...letting it all go. There were no tears. Those had long since disappeared. Instead, I said the one thing it had been so hard to say to him, for so long...
"Goodbye." I turned to leave, knowing that I would never return to this spot. It was over.
As I got to the edge of the cemetery, Hannah waited behind the wheel of my car, ready to drive me into Portland. This was my last stop. I was leaving Cannon Beach. I looked back, just one last time, over the rows of stones, and I felt a peace I had never known.
I put my hand on my burgeoning stomach in a protective gesture.
Protection. That word had new meaning for me now. No one would ever hurt me again. No one would ever hurt my family.
Just then, as I stepped out of the cemetery and into my new life for the very first time, I felt the small flutter of my growing child.
Epilogue
Five years later
I put my hand on the doorknob of Turning Point and hesitated for just a moment.
Was I ready for this?
I’d not set foot inside this door since the night Derek confronted Landon. I’d fought to forget it. I wasn't sure if being here again might bring it all back, so, after the accident, I turned the bookstore over to Hannah. I told her to do with it what she wanted...for me, it was time to let it go.
I’d been holding onto the store because of my mother. I didn't want to let her go and believed that the store was my only real connection to her, but I realized that the connection between a parent and a child goes far beyond the physical things of this world. I knew this better than ever now.
I left Cannon Beach and had not come back...until today.
Unlike my mother, driving into Cannon Beach over forty years ago to start over, tonight was different for me. My latest novel had hit number one on the New York Times Bestseller's List and I’d made a promise to Hannah that if it did, I would come home for a book signing. It was Hannah, after all, who had gotten my career as a novelist off and running.
Two weeks after the accident, on the day I was released from the hospital, in fact, I got a call from ‘Jeremy from Pasadena’. At Hannah’s enthusiastic insistence, he had given it a read and absolutely loved it. He emailed me the contracts that afternoon and the rest, as they say, was history.
I opened the front door to Turning Point to the familiar jingle of the bell above the door. The flood of memories came rushing back as I looked around the room. My mother... Hannah and her palm reading table...and Landon.
"Belle!" Hannah ran across the room. "Mark! Belle’s here!" My sister hugged me tightly and pulled back to take a good look at my face. "Did you just get in? You look amazing! I love your hair! It's so good to have you back, Hell’s Bells."
Same Hannah...one big whirlwind of questions and comments without a moment to get a word in edgewise.
"Yes. Thanks. And thanks again. It’s good to be back."
Hannah laughed as a man came out from the back room.
Mark Reynolds, a local real estate agent and Hannah's fiancé, crossed the room to greet me. "Hello, Belle," he offered and kissed my cheek.
"Mark."
I still couldn't believe Hannah was getting married. As it turned out, Mark, who had been running the real estate office right next door to the bookstore for years, had quite a crush on my sister the entire time. He came in a few times, to ask her out, but always lost his nerve and ended up having his palm read. Mark had been one of my sister's best customers but for all of her predictions, she never foresaw her future with him.
When I left Cannon Beach, I asked her to handle everything. Sell the house and take over the store. I didn't want to go back. Everything that mattered to me, I’d taken with me the night I left Derek. Anyone who wanted to pay for it could have it all.
Naturally, the easiest and fastest thing for Hannah to do was walk right next door.
She told me that when she walked through the door and Mark looked up, he was so surprised that he spilled scalding hot coffee in his lap. She fell head over heels in love with him right then.
Yes, it was still difficult for me to believe my sister was going to settle down, but I also had a hard time believing that the bookstore was still standing after being in her care for five years. She hadn’t let it founder. Hannah had even made some improvements by adding a small coffee bar in the corner next to the counter. It was the perfect addition to the store.
Leaving Turning Point in her hands was the best decision I could have ever made...for both of us.
I was never happier to be wrong.
Putting the store’s success aside, I had to hand it to Hannah. She had turned her life around too. She was getting married and running a successful business. She’d finally grown up, just as if I always knew she could.
"We’re expecting quite a crowd tonight. I have everything set up over here." Hannah directed me to the far side of the store and the display she’d set up in my honor. There was a table with chairs and more than enough copies of my fourth book, Landon's Cove.
My love letter to Landon.
He’d changed my life and given me the strength to follow my dreams. Later this year, it was going to be a major motion picture release and I’d already begun work on its sequel. It was my most precious work.
"It looks wonderful, Hannah. Thank you." Tears blurred my vision.
"No, thank you. Having a best-selling author for a sister is great for business!"
We both laughed and I wiped my eyes. This was a happy day...there was no time for tears.
I turned, at the sound of the bell over the door to find Joseph Peterson.
"I thought I saw your car out front." He smiled warmly and gave me a quick hug. "When did you get into town?"
"Just now," I said. "I just made one stop first.”
Carl Walters. I’d made peace with what Carl did some time ago, although I had a strong suspicion that he would never truly forgive himself. He and Theresa split up shortly after Derek’s death. She’d sent flowers to the hospital but never came to see me. I heard after the fact, through the grapevine ironically enough, that she sold the market and left Cannon Beach. Carl, on the other hand, came to visit me in the hospital and told me how sorry he was for calling Derek. Carl said that he didn’t blame me for what happened, for the accident, and for Derek’s death. I believed him.
“I had no idea what Derek was doing to you.” He’d told me.
I couldn’t come back to Cannon Beach without going to visit him.
"Well, it’s good to see you," Joseph declared, bringing me back to the present.
"Thanks. You look very well."
“Thanks.”
"Where is—" He didn’t get to finish his question before the door flew open wide behind him.
"Grandpa!"
My daughter — his granddaughter — bounded through the door and threw herself into his arms. She was the spitting image of Lando
n with her blonde, tight curls and his same hazel eyes.
"Sara Elizabeth, I missed you so much."
Sara Elizabeth, named in memory of Landon's older sisters. She may never get to meet them but she would know all of them—we would make sure of that.
"Hey, Pops." I turned and the breath caught in my throat, just as it had the first time I had laid eyes on him and I melted...like butter in July.
The doctors called it a medical miracle but the nurses and Joseph credited Landon’s recovery to my bedside vigil.
Sometimes, even a broken heart can mend; can find a reason to beat again.
Landon’s road back was long but he fought for every single inch, with me by his side. I insisted on going with him to the hospital in Portland and Dr. Lewis had arranged for my transfer, as well.
When I was finally released, I found a hotel suite nearby. Hannah was nice enough to shuttle me back and forth between Portland and Cannon Beach. On the weekends, I stayed with her and helped her learn how to handle things at the store. Her kitchen table became a classroom as I showed her how to track invoices, order books, pay bills, and keep track of the inventory.
In exchange, every Monday morning she drove me into Portland so I could spend the week with Landon, doing his physical therapy and spending every waking minute with him.
I joked that it would be him helping me that way, when we were old and gray. Even though I said I’d be there first, since I was almost geriatric anyway, he promised he would sneak through my window at night. He could never bear sleeping away from me anyway.
When Landon was well enough, I lay next to him in his bed, put his hand on my stomach, and told him about our child.
Again.
"A daddy? Are you sure? Are you okay?" Always concerned about me.
"I'm fine. I'm perfect."
Then he asked me to marry him.
After his recovery and our wedding, Landon went to work for Habitat for Humanity. After just a year, he was promoted to one of their main architects. He travelled all over the country and I wrote wherever our travels took us. It was the perfect life. All I’d ever wanted was for someone to love me without hurting me, and Landon had given me all that I had ever dreamed of, and then some.
He sauntered into the store, my own Greek god, carrying a dozen roses.
"Mommy," Sara Elizabeth said, "Daddy and I got you some pretty flowers.”
I gave Sara Elizabeth, still in her grandfather's arms, a quick kiss, then crossed the room, and snuggled into the arms of my husband.
He pecked my cheek and whispered in my ear, "So, how does it feel to be back?"
"Good. I never realized how much I missed it."
"Me, too."
As Hannah, Mark, Joseph, and Sara Elizabeth all scurried around, laughing and talking, I only had eyes for the man standing in front of me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked up into his eyes. “What are you thinking, Mrs. Peterson?”
“Oh, I was just reminiscing about how you looked the first time you walked in here.” I laughed. “You really did look like a beach bum.”
“It worked on you.”
I laughed again. “Yes it did. So….when should we tell them our little secret?”
“Hmmm…what secret?”
“About the baby.”
“Oh! That secret,” he teased.
“After the signing…maybe at dinner? This is your moment.”
“No, this is our moment.” I twirled my fingers in the short curls at the back of his neck. I missed the shaggy hair and the flip-flops, although I would never admit that to him.
“So, my beautiful wife, is this everything you ever dreamed of?” He glanced around the store but I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
“Yes, it is.” His gaze came back to mine. “Landon, you were always the dream.”
He leaned down and kissed me. The world slipped away and I knew without a doubt, I was right where I belonged.
My mom always told me that dreams were like the stars. A person could have a million of them, but there were always one or two that burned brighter than the rest.
She was right.
Acknowledgements
Just like Belle, I have always had one star that shined brighter than all the rest. And because you are reading this, it means that my dream has finally come true. As such, “Turning Point” would not be a reality without the assistance, opportunity, and inspiration that several people have given me. They say it takes a village to raise a child…I would contend that it also takes a village to create a novel.
First and foremost, Cori Cole, where would I be without you? I believe Dr. Seuss said it best: “So the writer who breeds more words than he needs, is making a chore for the reader who reads.” Or in my case, an editor who edits. Thank you for putting up with me and helping me transform my story into greatness. Thank you for your dedication to the lives of Landon and Belle. Thank you for your humor. In essence — thank you!
My love of writing began in Sue Facklam’s seventh grade English class. Mrs. Facklam, even when I talked through your class and you had to move me to the front of the class, I was paying attention. I don’t know how but you put up with me and I thank you from the bottom of my heart! On that same note — to Nicholas Sparks and Jennifer Weiner, thank you for setting the bar so high with your brilliance.
I want to thank the musicians who created the soundtrack to this story — The Fray, Muse, and Lady Antebellum, just to name a few. Your music inspired the deep emotions it took to write this story. And of course, where would a girl be without muses of her own? For that, my hat is tipped to Dustin Bryan, Eric Bana, and Ryan Gosling.
And last, but certainly not least, my heart, my devotion, and my love go out to my husband Tom and my kids Josh, Lucas, Erika, Nichelle, Mike, and Tommy. Thank you for sacrificing time with me and supporting me so that I can realize my dream. I love you.
About the Author
Deborah Busby earned a Master of Arts: English and a Graduate Certificate in Professional Writing from Northern Arizona University. In addition to being a novelist, Deborah is a college English instructor at several universities, where she helps young aspiring writers learn the how-to’s of college-level writing. She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and children. For more information, visit her website: www.deborahbusby.com.
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