by Cindy Kirk
Though he’d flooded his eyes with Visine before leaving the house, Gladys studied him with the intensity of a pawnbroker considering making an offer. Her expression softened at the sight of the boots in his hands.
“Fin told me to expect you.” She took the boots and nodded approvingly. “These are perfect. I’ll put them right beside her picture.”
Behind the counter was a blown-up photo of Mindy, dressed in the flower-girl dress she’d worn that last night. She didn’t look sick. She looked happy.
“Your child brought a lot of joy to this town.”
Reaching into his pocket, Owen pulled out the petals and placed them on the counter. “I found these in her room. On top of her gratitude box.”
Gladys lifted a brow. “Sounds like someone is sending you a message.”
A message from beyond the grave?
“If Mindy had something to say to me, she’d send me a text.”
Gladys dismissed the sarcasm with a wave of her bony, bejeweled hand.
“I’ve always believed life is best lived in the present.” Gladys gestured to the photo of Mindy, and the bracelets on her right wrist clinked together. “That feeling was something your daughter and I shared.”
Owen frowned. “How do you know that?”
“You said the petals were on her gratitude box. Gratitude is about appreciating our daily life. Instead of worrying about the future, Mindy joyously embraced the here and now.” Gladys arranged the boots on the shelf next to Mindy’s picture, then turned back to study him with unblinking, pale blue eyes. “It appears she’s suggesting you do the same.”
Though his knee-jerk reaction was to disagree, Owen kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to get into an argument with the older woman. Certainly not about rose petals. Gladys was a fixture on the Door County peninsula and one of those people who made Good Hope a special place to live. “I need to get back to the garage.”
“Lindsay is volunteering here tomorrow morning,” Gladys called out as he reached the doorway. “She’d appreciate your company.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” Owen lifted a hand in a gesture of farewell and continued out the door.
Appreciate his company?
Owen shook his head. If he walked through that door tomorrow morning, Lindsay was as likely to kick his ass as welcome him with open arms.
For someone who professed to be psychic, Gladys had missed the mark, not only with Mindy’s message, but this one as well.
Instead of heading immediately back to the garage, Owen detoured to Muddy Boots. Though the noon hour was normally busy, today was Wednesday. Outside, the day had more in common with winter than fall.
The second Owen stepped into the warmth of the diner and saw the crowd of unfamiliar faces, he realized a lot of people must have arrived early for the upcoming festivities.
He turned to leave when a hand on his coat sleeve stopped him.
Turning, Owen found himself face-to-face with Krew Slattery. He couldn’t recall the last time Krew had made it back to Good Hope, but it had to have been eons ago. That time, Krew had been a boy.
A man stood in front of him now—six feet two inches and two hundred pounds of lean muscle. Dark, wavy hair brushed the collar of his coat, and it appeared he’d forgotten to shave that morning. Despite that fact, or maybe because of it, Owen noticed several women looking twice.
“Hey, man. Good to see you.” Owen grinned and clasped his hand in a firm shake. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long.” Krew gestured toward the dining area. “I’ve got a table. Join me for lunch.”
Owen hesitated for only a second. Considering Krew was the homecoming guest of honor, they probably wouldn’t have another chance to catch up.
“Okay. Sure.”
Krew threaded through the tables with the same skill he’d once woven through an opposing team’s secondary. Though Owen knew his former brother-in-law had been able to come to Good Hope only because of an injury, from the ease with which he was moving, the man looked a hundred percent.
He assumed Krew had snagged one of the coveted two-tops near the window. But the table Krew stopped beside was a round one capable of seating five or six.
“Hello, Owen.” Tessa gazed up at him through the bright blue eyes Mindy had inherited.
Krew gestured with a large hand that could grab a football from midair even when he was triple-teamed. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited Owen to join us.”
“I don’t mind.” Tessa hesitated only a second, then introduced her husband, Jared, a scholarly looking man with dark-rimmed glasses. “This is Lily.”
The child in the high chair had dark hair like her mother and her father’s brown eyes. She couldn’t be more than a year old.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Owen supposed running into Tessa had to happen sometime. He just wished it hadn’t happened today. Resigned, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You arrived early.”
“Jared has never been to Good Hope.” Tessa’s tone might be easy, but her eyes remained wary. “I thought this would be a good opportunity to show him where I grew up.”
As he searched for something polite to say to that, Dakota approached the table and offered a bright smile. “I’m sorry for the delay. My name is Dakota, and I’ll be taking care of you today. If you need anything, please let me know. Are you ready to order?”
Tessa slanted a glance at Owen. “We’ve had a chance to look at the menus, but you just got here.”
“I can give you a few minutes—” Dakota began.
“Not necessary.” Owen smiled at Lindsay’s niece. “I eat here so much I have the menu memorized.”
Dakota took their orders with an efficiency born of years of waitressing, then returned with their drinks.
Owen must not have been the only one who noticed Krew’s intense scrutiny of the college girl each time she came anywhere near the table, because Tessa punched her brother in the arm. “She’s too young for you.”
“It’s not like that. She reminds me of someone.” Krew’s dark brows pulled together. He turned to Owen. “What do you know about her?”
“Dakota is Cassie Lohmeier’s daughter.”
There was an odd look on Krew’s face that Owen couldn’t decipher. “This girl must be, what, eighteen?”
“Jailbait,” Tessa warned and snatched a fry from her husband’s plate.
Krew ignored his sister, his gaze riveted on Owen.
“Closer to twenty. She finished one year of college already. She’s back in Good Hope for this semester trying to earn enough money to return to La Crosse for the second semester.”
Krew opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then shut it and picked up his glass of soda.
“I know this isn’t a good time, but I’m not sure when would be better.” Tessa cleared her throat. “I want to say again how sorry I am that I didn’t make it back for Mindy’s funeral. If there would have been any possible way I could have dragged myself onto a plane, I would have been here.”
Tears shimmered in Tessa’s eyes.
“He knows that, Tess.” Her husband reached over and took her hand. “You were too sick to fly. He understands.”
The look Jared shot him said that even if he didn’t, he better say he did.
A man standing up for his woman. Owen respected Jared’s loyalty.
“I know you’d have been here.” Owen might have tightened his grip on the plastic tumbler of water, but his voice remained even. “It was a beautiful service. The church was packed. Mindy had a lot of friends. So many people loved her. They’ve started something at the church called Mindy’s Closet in her honor.”
He went on to explain how the clothing giveaway worked, and Tessa told her husband she wanted to stop by and see it before they left.
The time went by quickly. When they’d finished eating and were getting up to leave, Owen turned to Tessa. “I have some things of Mindy’s I’d like to give you.”
“Lily
needs to nap.” Tessa appeared uncertain. “Perhaps after—”
“If you want, I can take Lily to the motel and get her down.” Jared met his wife’s gaze. “You two probably have a lot to talk about. But if you’d like me to come, we’ll make it work.”
We’ll make it work. Tessa and Jared appeared to be a team in a way she and Owen never had been.
“You can ride with me over to the house,” Owen offered. “I can drop you off at the motel.”
“Ah, sure, that’ll be fine.” As she rose, Tessa gave her brother an even stronger punch to the shoulder. “Quit staring at that girl. It’s downright creepy.”
It was so reminiscent of their interactions in high school—her scolding, her brother ignoring—that Owen had to laugh.
Some things never changed.
Twenty-Nine
Owen kept the conversation light on the way to the house they’d once shared. They spoke of classmates and what they were doing now.
He learned that Tessa and her husband had opened a family-law practice in Des Moines. Jared had grown up in Iowa and had relatives in the area.
More important, according to Tess, running their own practice gave them the ability to flex their schedules around Lily’s needs.
“The house hasn’t changed much.” Seconds after stepping into the living room, Tessa moved to a ceramic sparrow that Mindy had painted when she’d been not more than five or six. After setting it down, she picked up the deck of cards, turning them over in her hand. “These are different.”
“They’re relationship cards.” For a second, Owen couldn’t recall what the cards were doing in his house, until he remembered Lindsay tossing them out of her bag when she’d been digging through her purse.
“Are you in a relationship, Owen?”
He hesitated a fraction of a second, then nodded. “With Lindsay Lohmeier. We’re having a baby girl this spring.”
“Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” She sounded surprisingly sincere. “You and I might not have been good together, but I believe separately we’re both good people.”
Tessa’s gaze turned assessing, and he found himself reminded of the way Gladys had looked at him that morning.
“I like Jared,” he said to fill the silence.
“I like him, too.” Her lips curved. “He makes me happy.”
Owen had seen the connection between them at lunch. “Weren’t you scared to commit? I mean, after the failure of our marriage? The ink was barely dry on our divorce papers when you married the guy.”
Her head jerked up, and she dropped the cards back to the table as if they’d turned red hot. “If you’re intimating that I was involved with him before we split, you’re wrong. I wouldn’t have done that to you.”
Owen had wondered. Knowing she’d remained faithful shouldn’t have mattered, but it did.
“I made so many mistakes in our marriage and with Mindy.”
The guilt and pain in her blue depths tore at his heart, but she wasn’t the only one who’d made mistakes. “I should never have told you to stay away.”
“You were worried about her. I put my career before my child. I knew it hurt Mindy terribly when I had to cancel our times together at the last minute, but at the time I was a junior associate and had little control over my sched—” She stopped herself and held up a hand. “No. No excuses.”
She remained silent for so long, he was tempted to jump in. But he waited, sensing that getting the words out was important to her.
“There is no excuse for a mother staying away from her daughter, especially when that child is fighting for her life.” Tessa’s voice trembled with emotion. “I should have quit my job and been here for her.”
It wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought, hadn’t said to her. Back then, she hadn’t wanted to listen.
“I was wrong to insist you stay away,” he repeated.
“That isn’t on you, Owen.” Tessa blew out a breath. “Mindy was my daughter. My child needed me, and I wasn’t there. I will regret that to my dying day.”
Tessa’s eyes dropped to the hands she was twisting and untwisting. “I’m sure she hated me.”
“She never stopped loving you.”
Her gaze jerked up. Hope flared, but was extinguished almost immediately. She shook her head. “I wasn’t there when she needed me most.”
True, Owen thought, but he was done playing judge and jury. “She missed you. But she always loved you.”
Tears slipped down Tessa’s cheeks. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Why would I be that nice?”
The comment had her laughing and brushing away tears.
He gestured down the hall. “I want to show you something.”
Tessa stood for a long moment in Mindy’s bedroom doorway and took in the explosion of pink. Her lips curved. “It hasn’t changed. It’s the same as I remember.”
“Her love for the color pink never wavered.” Owen moved to the bed and picked up the octopus. “Mindy died in her sleep with Odessa in her arms. I believe the octopus was precious to her because it came from you.”
Tessa stood there, biting her lower lip.
“I want you to have it.” He pressed the colorful stuffed animal into her hands. “And something else.”
Owen lifted the box from the dresser.
Tessa inclined her head. “A jewelry box?”
“It’s a gratitude box. Mindy faithfully filled out slips of paper every night. I’ve only read two, so I can’t guarantee what she may have written, but these are all things she was grateful for. If you read them all, I bet you’ll see we raised a happy child.”
“I can’t take this. It should be yours. You were the one who was here for her.” Tessa lifted her hands. “You raised her, not me.”
“You were here for the first seven years of her life, Tess. You were in her heart. She’d be happy to know a part of her is with you.”
“If you’re sure.” Tessa’s fingers shook as they closed around the box. “I’ll treasure this always.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t a better husband.” Owen blew out a breath. “I wasn’t as supportive as you needed me to be.”
“I’m sorry, well, for so many things, too. But I’ve come to see my mistakes led me to where I am now. I wouldn’t be the wife I am to Jared if not for the hard lessons I learned about being honest about my feelings and my needs. I’d venture you wouldn’t be the man you are for Lindsay if you hadn’t learned from the mistakes in our marriage.”
Owen rocked back on his heels. “I don’t know about that.”
“Think about it. If your mother hadn’t left you in that fire station in Minnesota, your parents wouldn’t have adopted you. You wouldn’t have eventually moved to Door County with them. We wouldn’t have met, and Mindy wouldn’t have been born.” Tessa paused. “If I hadn’t married you, I might never have achieved my dream of being something more than the town drunk’s daughter. Your parents were so encouraging to me.”
“Yes, they were. To you.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from his voice.
Puzzlement filled her eyes. “To you, too.”
He made a scoffing sound. “They wanted me to be a doctor or lawyer. Or, follow in their footsteps and be a college professor.”
Instead of denying it, she chuckled. “They’re academics, Owen. Higher education is what they know, what they understand. But they’re immensely proud of you and what you’ve accomplished. Take my word on that.”
He inclined his head. It almost sounded as if she’d been in contact with his parents. “When did you last speak with them?”
“Last week. You?”
“Three months ago.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “After Mindy, after she passed, they were checking in all the time. I finally told them I needed space, and they backed off.”
She touched his arm. “I’d say three months is enough space. Call them, Owen. They love you. They’re grieving, too. Don’t make them lose a son as wel
l as a granddaughter.”
“I’ll call them.” Then Owen did what this morning he’d never imagined doing. He wrapped his arms around Tess and hugged her.
When he released her, it felt like closure. “Have a happy life, Tessa.”
She touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “You, too.”
Perspective, Owen thought when he dropped Tessa off at the Sweet Dreams motel, was a funny thing. All these years, he’d been counting his heartaches instead of his blessings. And recently, he’d worried about what might happen in the future rather than joyously embracing the here and now.
There was still time, he told himself, to make things right. He had to think positively.
Once back in his truck, he pulled out his phone. Wayde answered on the first ring.
“I won’t be back in today,” he informed his shop foreman. “I’ve got some important shopping to do in Sturgeon Bay.”
“That’s right. The auction is this afternoon.” Wayde’s voice boomed through the line. “We could use another four-post hoist with jacking beam.”
Wayde obviously inferred Owen planned to attend the auction of an automotive shop that was going out of business. The truth was, he had a far more personal destination in mind—a certain prominent jewelry store on Madison Avenue.
Lindsay arrived early for her morning shift at Mindy’s Closet. She stopped by the church office to pick up the key and was relieved to find Dan alone.
The minister looked up from where he was shuffling through some papers on his secretary’s desk. A smile blossomed on his lips, and Lindsay was struck anew by what a nice guy he was and how her life would have been so much easier if she’d just been able to love him.
“Lindsay. This is an unexpected pleasure.”
She returned his smile. “I’ve got the first shift of the day at Mindy’s Closet.”
“You need the key.”
“Yes.”
“Once I find it, it’s yours.”
“I’m sorry, Dan.” The words that Lindsay had had no intention of saying popped out before she could stop them. Not that she didn’t mean them, she just wasn’t sure now was the best time.