“Seriously, Cam?” Paige sighed, folding her arms tight across her chest. “Last I checked I was an adult, which means I’m allowed to make my own decisions and live my own life. Sorry for not telling you I would be—”
“Late? Not coming home at all? Which one?”
Paige blushed. “Both. I don’t need your permission, but you do deserve my respect. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure I tell you in the future. Like tonight. I won’t be home. I might not be home all week, so don’t wait up for me, okay?”
Camille could feel her brows rise all the way to her hairline. “Not home all week? Do I ask where you will be? Or with whom?” She raised her hand. “No, don’t answer that. You’re an adult. You don’t need to explain yourself or tell me where you are every moment.”
Camille rubbed the back of her neck and forced herself to breathe through her nose. Relax. She had to relax.
“You’re right.” She held up her hands in mock surrender in an attempt to do exactly that. “You’re an adult. Hands off—I got the message loud and clear.” Her nostrils flared with anger she was trying really hard to suppress. “Do me a favor, though? Try to remember that we also work together, and I need to be able to count on you. So if you’re not going to be in when I need you to be, send me a text, at least. That won’t be too difficult for you, will it?”
“Fine,” Paige agreed, her voice laced with tension.
“Fine,” Camille repeated, feeling suddenly very childish. “I’ll take my break when you get back from the beach,” she called out over her shoulder before heading into their flower fridge. A little bit of distance could only help distill the tension between them right now.
“I won’t be long.” Paige opened the door to the fridge and popped her head in minutes after Camille entered. Camille’s hands were full of assorted flowers she’d picked for an arrangement due in a few hours, and Paige eyed them. “How many arrangements are on the schedule today?”
“We have three for later this afternoon. Two deliveries, one pickup.” Camille walked past her and placed the box of flowers on her work stand.
Camille nodded toward the order form she’d tacked to Paige’s work board beside her. “Charlotte stopped by and placed an order for her mother. She wants to start up the weekly arrangements again.”
These arrangements from Charlotte to her mother constantly changed. Doris would complain that Charlotte never sent her flowers and then complain that she sent too many, and the cycle repeated over and over.
“I wonder how long this will last.” Paige loved to not only make the arrangements for Doris but to deliver them as well.
“I’ll be back.” Paige hefted into her arms a large box full of baskets for the beach stand. She headed toward the front door but stopped. “Cam? I really am sorry about not being here when you needed me.”
Camilla made herself smile. What else could she do? For her, this shop was her life. It represented something deep and strong. Maybe it was because she’d been raised in here with her father, learning from him how to care for a community through her hands and heart. But Paige’s dreams had been different.
She really couldn’t fault her sister for not being here. Camille had to stop expecting her to be. Their mother used to call Paige her wild bird. She knew her younger daughter could never stay in one place for any amount of time, that she needed freedom to be herself, to try new things and to push beyond any boundaries laid out for her.
But that had all changed. Paige wasn’t on the team anymore and could barely walk without a limp on the best of days. She needed to do something with her life and seemed to take pleasure in the hands-on operation of the family business. She enjoyed being outside, working in the gardens, while Camille preferred to be in the shop, doing the day-to-day side of things.
They could do this—they could take the two things they both enjoyed and make it work in a way their father never could. They could expand their business, build on their name, and both find satisfaction with the life handed to them.
Right?
3
GRACE
The sound of a dog barking in the distance startled Grace, and the knife in her hands slipped.
“Augh.” She held her finger up and winced.
“You okay?” John stood at the counter.
“I’m fine. Thanks.” The words rolled off her tongue without thought as she put pressure on the small cut and waited for the bleeding to stop.
John had come home a little later than promised, but in enough time to help with dinner, just like he said he would.
Except, since coming home, he hadn’t said a single word to her until now.
“Can we talk now? Please?” She hated begging. Hated the way it made her voice sound, how it made her feel…and yet she’d prefer anything over his silence.
“You can’t stay mad at me forever,” she said. “You need to let me explain about today.”
“Explain away.” He took a drink from his bottle of beer and slammed it down on the counter.
Grace jumped.
“She’s only a little girl. A baby.” Why was he so upset about her taking care of Sophie? They’d had this talk countless times with always the same result: both walking away without ever coming to an understanding of where they stood.
She sighed.
John snorted. “You honestly can’t think that’s what’s bothering me.” The look in his eyes spoke of both pain and anger.
“Then what?” Grace cried out. “What else could it be? I don’t understand what you have against her.”
“I have nothing against her and everything against the situation you’ve been boxed into.” John wouldn’t look at her, only stared at the beer in his hand.
The doorbell rang.
Grace just stood there, waiting for her husband to explain, to maybe give her some clue as to how she could fix things, but he grabbed his beer and headed outside to the back patio, ignoring the doorbell altogether. Grace went to let her friend inside.
Dinner was awkward, to say the least. John continued to drink while Paige and Grace talked about the garden. The moment dinner was done, Grace began to clear the table.
“Here, let me help.” Paige immediately stood. “Dinner was great; thank you guys for having me.”
John leaned back in his seat and locked his arms behind his head, smiling for the first time that night. “Considering that you brought dessert, you’re welcome to come anytime.”
His words slurred slightly. Fabulous. He was drunk, or on his way.
Grace smiled faintly at her friend before she headed into the house and set the plates in her hands down.
“Everything okay?” Paige asked softly behind her.
Grace glanced through the open door toward her husband and sighed. “Things are fine. He’s just…in a mood.”
Paige set the items she carried down and leaned against the counter. “I’ve noticed. Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Does it have to do with Sophie?”
Grace pinched the bridge of her nose. “What happened to not talking about it?”
“I have selective hearing.” Paige winked.
“That little girl,” Grace said, “is the sweetest thing in my life at the moment, and whatever mood my husband is in, it’s because he chose to be that way.”
“I can hear you, you know.” John’s annoyed voice startled both Grace and Paige.
“Sometimes the truth hurts.” She said it quietly enough for only Paige to hear.
She would fight for Sophie all the days of her life if she needed to. It wasn’t fair of John to put her in the middle of something that was obviously between them.
“Where’s dessert? I’m still hungry,” he called out as he leaned farther back in his chair to the point of it tipping and closed his eyes.
Grace closed her eyes and counted to ten.
“He’s very demanding, isn’t he?” Paige asked. She opened up the oven, where she’d set a warm apple pie when she firs
t arrived.
“I heard that too.” John laughed as if the idea of him hearing their conversation was the funniest thing ever.
Grace just tightened her lips.
Paige carried the pie while Grace grabbed the dessert plates.
“I’m sure our neighbors can hear you as well,” she said to him as they returned to the patio. She attempted a smile, working really hard to add some lightness to her tone. She was not going to let him goad her.
John turned his head toward their friendly neighbor. “Hey, Dale and Jenny,” he called out, his voice loud and obnoxious. “We’ve got pie and wine or beer. You’ve got five seconds to respond or the offer’s off the table.” He laughed by himself while Grace and Paige just sat there. Eventually John shrugged when there was no response. “Your loss, my gain.” He leaned forward and smelled the pie. “I probably don’t want to share this anyway.”
“Considering Anne Marie made it for you when she heard I was coming over tonight, I don’t think you want to be sharing.” Paige frowned as she slapped his shoulder.
“Never mind. Come over for beer later, Dale,” John yelled over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.
“Okay,” Dale yelled back.
Grace set a piece of pie on a plate and looked up, seeing Dale’s silhouette in his kitchen window. She waved and he waved back.
“Unless you bought a new case of beer, I think that’s your last one.” She pointed the knife in her hand at her husband’s bottle.
John winced.
“Ignore him.” Grace continued to cut the pie.
“So you’re still good for me to come tomorrow and start on your garden?” Paige rolled her eyes, not phased in the least by John’s antics.
“As long as you agree to be on retainer to keep it growing.” Grace liked the rough sketch Paige had drawn earlier. The idea was to keep it simple this year and build on it next year.
“So we’ll actually have flowers and living plants?” John asked in between bites.
“Just help your wife water them in between my visits and they’ll be fine.” Paige winked at Grace.
“Don’t even bother trying to shame me on this. You both know I don’t have a green thumb.” Grace sat and enjoyed her own pie. She made a mental note to call Anne Marie tomorrow to thank her for the dessert; she’d even added a hint of caramel that Grace loved.
“Want another glass of wine before you head home? We can go in the house or sit out here and enjoy the night breeze,” she asked Paige, who glanced at her watch.
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave you to your girl talk.” John said before walking away.
“Sorry about John,” Grace said once they were alone.
“Don’t worry about it. That’s not the first time I’ve been around your husband with alcohol involved. Although, usually he’s the fun one in the room…so this was a first. He wasn’t that bad though, just… It’s obvious something is going on between the two of you. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather me leave?”
Grace shook her head. She was more than sure. “Not unless you really want to. I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?”
“I’m housesitting tonight,” Paige said, “so other than watering plants, I’m good.”
Grace sat up in her seat. “So you took Charlotte up on that offer? I didn’t think you were going to. How’s that going?”
Grace had been chatting with Paige one day downtown when Charlotte came by and mentioned that one of their summer families wasn’t coming this year and needed someone to housesit. She’d asked them if they knew of anyone she could recommend and Paige had mentioned she might be interested.
But that was the last Grace had heard of it.
“It’s a little bit of extra money, a really nice cottage, and it’s nice, actually, being on my own. I used to daydream about having my own place, back when I was in the dorm at school. But then I moved home after my knee surgery and…”
“There’s nothing quite like having your own space. I remember those days.” Grace smiled. “Except I always had a roommate.”
“Your sister.”
“My sister.”
They spoke at the same time before laughing.
“Are you there every night?” Grace asked.
Paige shook her head. “Just a few nights a week. I need to be home tomorrow to help Cam put some baskets together.”
“Can I help?” The idea of doing something appealed to her. Normally in the summers she taught summer classes or volunteered with the children teddy-bear picnics held down at the beach. Her summers were always busy. Or they used to be.
“Really? Don’t you have your hands full with Sophie, though?”
“Well…yes. But I’m all up for a girls’ night. I’ll bring the wine.”
Paige looked surprised at her eagerness. “Okay, then. We’ve got a date. I’ll let Camille know.”
“What’s this about tomorrow night?” John called out through the open kitchen window.
“Just a girls’ night,” Grace spoke up. “Gonna head to Paige’s to help create some baskets. You don’t have plans, do you?” She waited to see whether he’d respond, then shrugged, trying not to reveal her frustration. He could at least answer, especially when he was obviously eavesdropping. “Guess he’s okay with it.” Not that it really mattered. Their nights were quiet affairs lately. John would be holed up in his office while Grace read a book or parenting magazine. Always in separate rooms.
“No plans. Enjoy your night out. Maybe I’ll head to down to Fred’s for a beer and game of pool.” John appeared with two wineglasses and a bottle of her favorite Reisling.
“Thank you,” she said, registering his gesture. He gave her a smile before disappearing back inside, but it didn’t take long for her to hear his voice through their neighbors’ windows. He’d gone next door.
“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” Paige asked after a moment.
Grace nodded, sighing heavily at the thought. She’d rather hoped to ignore her upcoming birthday this year.
“Are you heading into the city for your annual trip with your sister or will she be coming here?”
And that was the reason why.
Her sister.
Before the shooting, she and Faith had talked daily, worked on crossword puzzles together via phone or text, made plans to see each other as often as they could, or Skype-chatted in the evenings.
Her twin sister was her other half, more so than her husband or even Katie.
Faith had always been the closest person in her life. But since the shooting Grace had kept her sister at arm’s length.
From guilt. From grief. From… It didn’t really matter the reason. She just had. She knew it was all on her, the distance that remained between her and her sister, but she wasn’t ready to deal with it yet.
Much like a lot of other things in her life.
“Why do you ask?” Grace played with the wineglass in her hand, watching the liquid wash up the sides as she moved it around.
“With watching Sophie like you’ve been, I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to get away or not,” Paige said.
Grace took a sip of her wine, struggling with how to answer.
“I haven’t really spoken to Faith about it.” She looked out over her weed-filled yard and realized just how much it paralleled her life right now: Something that should be so beautiful was slowly choking to death. Her marriage. Her relationship with her sister. Her hopes and dreams for the future. Everything was slowly dying.
Fortunately there was hope for her garden.
For her…not so much.
“How is your sister?” Paige sipped her wine, but Grace caught her curious glance when she didn’t think she was looking.
“I haven’t really spoken to her.”
Paige sighed. “You should.”
She took a sip of her wine and avoided Paige’s look. “My days are mainly full with Sophie, and…” Despite its being the truth, it still sounded like an excuse.
Grace toyed with her wineglass. “Sure, I do. But we’re both busy. She has her career and I have…” Her voice trailed off as she thought about all the things she didn’t have anymore, like her baby, her best friend, her perfect marriage and perfect life. “It’ll be okay. We’ve all got to grow up sometime, right?”
Paige gave a little laugh. “Yeah. Sometime.” She blew a puff of air. “I think that’s what Camille and I need right now.”
“What’s that?” Grace was more than happy to change the direction of their conversation.
“Some space. Time to grow and figure out who we are and…stuff. You know?” She downed the last bit of her wine and stood up. “On that note, I’d better get going.”
“Are you okay?” Grace reached out, wanting to comfort her friend if she could.
“I’ll be fine. Oh, I stopped by Nathan’s today and weeded his garden a little. I found a cute marker beneath a pile of weeds in the back.”
Grace stomach dropped. She knew exactly what marker Paige had found. “The one with the two old women?” She’d picked it at a garage sale and given it to Katie last year, along with a potted rosebush. The two old women on the marker reminded her of them, and she couldn’t help but buy it. “Any roses still growing on that bush or are they all dead?”
“There were some buds. There’s hope for it yet. I had no idea it was there.” Paige gathered her purse and notebook. “It’s hard to believe she’s gone, you know?”
Grace swallowed hard. “I know.”
She thought about it every day.
***
By the time John returned from having a beer—or two—with Dale, Grace had cleaned up the kitchen, folded a load of laundry, and was in her comfy night wear, curled up on the couch, flipping through the television stations.
John paused as he entered the room, almost as if surprised to find her there. “Sorry I was so long.” He sank down on the couch beside her. “When did Paige leave?
Grace readjusted her feet to give him more room on the couch and shrugged. “Over an hour ago.”
The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set Page 16