by Mia Ross
Since she’d gone this far, she forged ahead to finish her sad story. “I never told Jeremy about Julia, so it made sense to come here. One day after he left for an early meeting at work, I shredded my credit cards, wiped the memory from my phone and canceled the account. I left behind everything he gave me, bought a plane ticket with cash and came to Holiday Harbor.” Now that she was removed from that awful day, she could hardly believe she’d felt compelled to behave so outlandishly. “Looking back, it was surreal, like a movie. I still can’t believe I was that paranoid.”
“Just ’cause you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone’s not after you,” he assured her gently. “That guy sounds dangerous to me. You were smart to take off and even smarter to cover your tracks.”
They barely knew each other, so Ben’s approval shouldn’t mean that much to her. But it did. While it seemed woefully inadequate, she gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now, back to this Playtime area.”
Apparently, he’d sensed her desire to change the subject, and again she marveled at his ability to respect her wishes. While they tossed ideas around, she gradually found herself warming to the project—and its contractor.
Wonderful as he seemed, she promised herself that this time she’d be more careful. When you trusted someone with your heart too easily, it could all go bad in a hurry. She wasn’t about to make that mistake again.
Chapter Seven
Ben finished out the week as a one-man crew. While his customers were too polite to say anything directly, he couldn’t miss the sympathy on their faces and the extra effort they made to compliment his work. That he was dependable and top-notch seemed to be the general consensus, and he was grateful for their attempts to make him feel better about the awkward situation he found himself in. Parents were supposed to smooth over their kids’ bad behavior, he grumbled to himself more than once. Not the other way around.
Sunday morning, he left for church a little earlier than normal. Glancing down, he made sure the note he’d labored over was on the seat beside him. Ben would prefer to have it out in person, but if his dad was still away, the stern letter would have to do. He’d had a long, difficult week, and he knew some of his exhaustion stemmed from the frustrating situation with his father.
The only bright spot had been Lauren, he mused with a smile. It turned out they had more in common than he’d have considered possible only a few days ago. Their shared love of history and old buildings was an unexpected—and pleasant—surprise to him. He couldn’t help wondering if she felt the same way. Like Ben, she was planning to leave Holiday Harbor for somewhere else. If things continued to go well between them, maybe their paths could intersect once in a while and they’d find a way to remain friends.
His parents’ wreck of a marriage made Ben wary of long-term commitments, and Lauren had made it clear she wasn’t interested in anything serious. Something else they saw eye to eye on, he thought as he pulled onto Harbor Street. From the far end, he saw his father’s truck parked in the driveway, and he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. While he’d hoped to have this out face-to-face, now that it was reality, second thoughts began creeping in to test his resolve.
In his mind, he heard Lauren’s voice. Would you let any other employee get away with what he’s doing?
Not in a million years, he decided, bracing himself as he left his truck and knocked on the glass in the storm door. The Gone Fishing message was still there, as if Dad was leaving his options open. Unfortunately, Ben didn’t have that luxury, and it wasn’t much of a struggle to look grim when the door opened.
“Good morning,” his father said, stepping back to let him in. “Want some coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’m on my way to church.”
“That’s right...it’s Sunday.” Rubbing his stubbled chin, he grimaced. “Think I’ll skip it today.”
“You’ve been skipping a lot lately,” Ben pointed out as calmly as he could. He didn’t want to fight—he just wanted to make sure he said his piece. “I think you should take next week off and figure out what you want to do.”
“What do you mean?” his father asked with a confused frown.
He really didn’t get it, and Ben nearly lost his stomach for this conversation. He recognized that his dad was in pain, and he’d never intended to hurt his own son. But intentions didn’t mean much when the end result was so bad.
Trying to view him as just another unreliable worker, Ben said, “I can’t count on you, and I can’t go on covering for you the way I’ve been doing. You need to get some help for your own sake, but also so we can keep the business going.”
“I’m feeling better now,” he insisted without much conviction. “We’ll be fine.”
“Not if you don’t find someone to talk to about this.” Taking a deep breath, Ben pulled out the final stop. “Davy’s holding a spot on his restoration crew for me, and the job starts June 1. You need to get yourself straightened out by Memorial Day, because I’m going to Boston.”
Dad’s mouth dropped open in total shock, and he slowly shook his head. “How can you even think of doing that to me?”
The accusation felt like a knife plunging into his heart, and while it was exactly what his father had suggested that night up at Schooner Point, Ben knew it was pointless to remind him of it. He also knew this was the only way to demonstrate how deadly serious he was about his father getting help with his problems. Hard as it was, he held his ground. “I’ve been patient for six months, while you went from giving up on Mom one day to being convinced she’d be home tomorrow. Every time, the low got a little lower, until you disappeared for a whole week. No phone calls, nothing.”
“I left you a note.”
The lame argument only added fuel to Ben’s simmering temper. Summoning every ounce of frustration he’d been accumulating, he finished his speech with a glare. “If you wanna run your life into the ground, that’s your business. I’m not sticking around to watch.”
With that, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his truck. As he peeled out of the gravel driveway, he resisted the temptation to check the rearview mirror to gauge the reaction his parting shot had caused.
Because, in all honesty, he simply didn’t care anymore.
It wasn’t far to Safe Harbor Church, and by the time he arrived, he still had a full head of steam. Not the best way to enter God’s house, he reminded himself, and he paused in the vestibule to regain his composure. He was considering taking a seat in the back again when he caught a movement in the front pew.
Lauren.
Wearing a pale blue dress dotted with flowers, she looked ready for a leisurely afternoon in someone’s garden. All she needed to complete the image was a picnic basket and a blanket. Her beautiful smile wiped away the awful start to his morning, and he joined her in the McHenry clan’s usual spot. Taking the seat beside her, he said, “Hey there, sunshine.”
With a feminine smirk, she lifted one perfect brow. “What did you call me?”
“You look like sunshine this morning. It seemed to fit.”
“I’ve had a lot of nicknames over the years,” she commented quietly. “I think that’s my favorite.”
Score one for me, Ben thought with a grin. “So, what brings you here?”
“I liked what I saw on Easter Sunday. I thought I’d see how it plays from the front.”
Ben didn’t care why she was here, but he sure was glad she’d chosen today for another visit. People filed into the pew behind them, greeting everyone before taking their seats. They all knew Lauren by name, and she chatted pleasantly with adults and children alike. What a difference from the timid woman who’d landed here not long ago. He wondered if she knew just how far she’d come since she’d arrived.
When things settled, he leaned in to murmur, “I talked to my dad this morning.”
Her gorgeous eyes sobered immediately, and she frowned. “How did it go?”
“Not well, but it’s done.”
It felt good to tell someone the truth for a change, instead of dodging it. “I told him he has to get his act together by Memorial Day, ’cause I’m taking that job my buddy offered me in Boston.”
“Boston,” she echoed with a clear understanding of what that meant for him. “Good for you, finally making it happen. They must have some amazing old buildings there.”
“Amazing and falling-down,” he joked. “Just my style.”
She didn’t laugh as he’d anticipated, and he asked, “Something wrong?”
“No. I just... Never mind.”
Over the years, Ben had learned that when a woman said “never mind,” that was the time to pay attention. “You just what?”
“I thought you’d be staying here for a while, to finish your house and all.”
He shrugged. “If it’s not done before I go, I’ll sell it as-is. I got it for peanuts, so I’ll still make some money. That way, the new owners can finish it off however they want.”
“Okay.”
It was the right response, but her tone sounded off to him, and he puzzled over it while the organist struck the opening chords of “How Great Thou Art.” As they stood to sing, an odd question popped into his head.
Was Lauren thinking of staying in Holiday Harbor? If she was, did the idea of him being there have any bearing on her decision? And if the answer to that was yes, how did he feel about it?
After the heart-wrenching confrontation with his father, Ben had gotten his fill of emotional tugs for a while, so he put Lauren out of his mind and focused on hitting all the notes. Music had never been his strength, but it was a lot easier than anything else he’d dealt with today.
* * *
“So whattya think?”
Crossing his arms on the counter at Toyland, Ben’s face was a picture of enthusiasm. Unfortunately, he’d lost Lauren somewhere between Center of Vision and Horizon Line, and she’d ceased to follow anything he was saying. Then again, it was Friday afternoon, and she might just be tired from another challenging week of learning the ropes. “What will it look like?”
“Like this,” he replied, pushing the architectural-style drawing closer as if that would help. “I did it from a kid’s perspective to give you a better idea how it’ll function. It’s pretty much what we discussed the other day when I came in to take measurements.”
Deciding it was time to come clean, she laughed. “I’ll have to take your word on that. I was expecting a more detailed version of the sketch you did at dinner, not a bunch of lines with dimensions and squiggly marks.”
“Those are for the pivoting door,” he clarified with a grin. “Sorry about that. Sometimes I get carried away with what I’m doing and forget most folks need pictures instead of blueprints. Come on, and I’ll show you what I have in mind.”
As they went into the far back corner that had been set aside for the new project, she asked, “Those plans really make sense to you?” When he nodded, her admiration of his skill went up several notches. “Did you go to architectural school?”
“Nope.”
“How did you learn so much on your own?”
“Here and there. Workshops, online classes, stuff like that. Why?”
He was a lot smarter than she’d given him credit for, but she’d never tell him so. First, it was the kind of backhanded compliment she’d gotten enough times to avoid giving them. Second, it would lead her dangerously close to other personal observations she’d rather keep to herself. She and Ben were doing well as friends whose paths would soon head off in very different directions. Saying or doing anything that might alter that would not only be foolish, it could end up being hurtful.
When they paused in the area taped off for the Playtime zone, she said, “I’m impressed. I was in college for four years and didn’t learn even half as much as you did all by yourself.”
Cocking his head in the inquisitive gesture she’d come to realize was part of his personality, he grinned. “You probably learned more than you think. The trick is to use what you know and add to it as you go along. Keeps life interesting.”
“I guess.”
“Like what you’re doing here,” he continued in an encouraging tone. “You’re not just filling in for Julia while she’s— Where is she again?”
“Floral emergency.”
“Right. While she’s at the florist, you’re filling out an order for building blocks, helping customers and working on a new idea with me. To me, that’s incredible. I’m not an idiot, but I can only do one thing at a time.”
“Thanks. It’s called multitasking.” It wasn’t a grand compliment, but she knew he meant it, and his praise made her stand up a little straighter. Pride, she realized with a start. She hadn’t experienced that emotion in so long she’d almost forgotten what it felt like. “Okay, now show me what you’re talking about.”
“Over here—” he went to the back wall and spread his arms wide “—we’ve got the big, fancy wardrobe for all the gear you and your fellow princesses will need.”
The way he referred to her as a princess made her want to giggle, but she put a firm stop to that to avoid sounding like a teenager with a crush. “Gear? They’re not mountain climbers, y’know.”
“Whatever. Anyway, it looks like it’s freestanding, but it’s not. I’ll build it out with storage behind doors on both sides, and in the center, there’s this gigantic mirror.” Pausing, he held up a finger with a mischievous grin. “Only it’s not just a mirror. The whole thing pivots around a center pole, and on the other side is a rack with rows of angled shelves that have lips on the front. They’ll be all different sizes, to hold the construction vehicles and sandbox toys.”
Lauren sighed. “Shelves with lips? Are you serious?”
“Well, yeah.” He obviously had no clue why she was so confused, but he took a moment to come up with a better explanation. Chuckling, he said, “Like at a shoe store.”
His humor was contagious, and she laughed. “Okay, now that I understand.”
While he outlined his concept for a sandbox with a clamp-down cover that would form a stage floor, she marveled at the creative way his mind worked. When he was finished, she commented, “This is great, Ben. I’m really impressed.”
“Thanks, but they’re your ideas.”
“Maybe, but you made them work.” That didn’t seem like enough, so she added, “I guess we make a good team.”
A lazy grin slowly spread across his face, and his eyes twinkled in approval. “Yeah, we do. That reminds me, do you have a date for Nick and Julia’s wedding?”
Her foolish heart tripped over itself, and she headed back to the counter to give herself a few moments to get it back under control. “No. Why?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”
Yes! she wanted to shout, but she caught herself just in time. While they’d never discussed it openly, it was clear neither of them was looking for a relationship right now. If she freaked over his totally platonic invitation to their friends’ wedding, he might get the wrong idea about her. Hoping she appeared cool and composed, she glanced at the computer screen for nonexistent email and nodded.
“Sure. That way we won’t get stuck being seated at the singles-only table.” His clueless expression made her laugh. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone to a wedding stag.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
He punctuated that with a playful smirk, and she rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. What am I gonna do with you? Never mind,” she quickly added. “Don’t answer that.”
With yet another irresistible grin, he pushed away from the counter and sauntered out the door. She was trying not to fall for his small-town boy routine, but he wasn’t making it easy on her. Fortunately, their lives were on parallel tracks, and in another month, Ben Thomas would be one of the many pleasant memories she’d treasure from her stay in Holiday Harbor.
“I know that look,” Julia commented as the bells over the door announced her return. “What’s going on?”<
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Lauren deftly slid a spreadsheet printout over Ben’s sketches. Julia had put her in charge of the Playtime project, insisting she trusted her implicitly. Lauren wanted her friend to be surprised when she saw the final product. “Nothing. Is everything all right with the florist?”
“Almost. Evidently, she has a new assistant who heard me say gardenias but wrote down zinnias.”
“You’re kidding. I’ve never seen those at a wedding.”
“My point exactly.” Her brow furrowed in exasperation, Julia sighed. “We still have two more weeks to go. I’m not sure I’ll make it.”
“Your mom will be here next week,” Lauren pointed out. “She’ll take care of everything after that, and you can relax and do the pampered-bride thing.”
At the mention of her mother, Julia’s strained expression eased into a smile. “That sounds wonderful. By the way, this morning she told me she wants to get all the ladies together for dinner at the French café that just opened over in Oakbridge. You’re first on her list, of course.”
Gisele Stanton had a knack for making sure things got done the right way, Lauren recalled fondly. While Julia had flatly refused a typical shower, the mother of the bride wasn’t going to let that stop her from celebrating her daughter’s upcoming marriage in style. “Sounds great. When?”
“Next Saturday, at seven. No gift,” she insisted with a hand in the air to stall any protest Lauren might make. “Just yourself. Bree and Lainie will be there, along with Mavis, Ann, Amelia and a few others. I made Mom promise to keep it under a dozen.”
Not very likely, Lauren thought but kept the comment to herself. Unlike Julia, Gisele’s normal mode of operation was filled with grand gestures rather than small ceremonies. That the wedding video wouldn’t be beamed to the Stantons’ many acquaintances around the world was a major concession for the very sociable ambassador’s wife.
“I’ll be there,” Lauren agreed then got back to business. “I sorted out the mix-up with those Easter bunnies, and to make it right, the vendor gave you the correct ones for half price. I added the credit into the bookkeeping entries, so we can charge future orders against it until it’s gone.”