“You are a good father, Nathan. You are. You just need to trust yourself more. Katie would always go on and on about how awesome you were, how you would come home and take Sophie and soothe her…don’t you remember that?” She leaned over slightly as Sophie reached her hand out toward Nathan. She set the little girl on the counter, holding her tight to steady her but giving her room to touch her father’s hand.
Nathan stared at his daughter’s small hand and Grace waited to see what he would do. She hoped he would take his daughter in his arms and trust himself, but instead he took a step back, stuffing his hand into his jeans pocket.
“Things are different now. Sophie knows that. She can sense it. She’s great with you, but it’s as if she can tell the moment you leave. It’s like her heart is breaking all over again, knowing she’s without her mom.”
Grace swallowed hard. “I’m not her mom, though.” Saying the words was hard. But she had to say them—to remind him and herself that she would never be Sophie’s mother.
“You’re the only mother figure she knows, Grace, and you have no idea how thankful I am for you.”
Hearing those words was like a knife piercing her heart, while at the same time they comforted her, which didn’t make sense in the slightest. And yet…for years she’d yearned to be a mother, and despite her miscarriage, taking care of Sophie, hearing Nathan say that… The bittersweet truth stung. She wanted to be a mother.
But not Sophie’s. She could never be Sophie’s mother.
“I can never replace Katie in your life—not yours or Sophie’s. I wish…” She stared up at the ceiling and tried to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. “I wish I could have traded places with her, that I hadn’t asked her to cover for me.”
“I wish that too.” His face blanched and he looked away immediately after saying the words. It was like they came out instinctively, as if it were a thought he’d had over and over and over and, while not meaning to actually say the words, he couldn’t take them back.
“Grace, I…” Nathan shook his head and opened then closed his mouth, as if realizing there was really nothing to be said following his confession.
Grace was a firm believer of the saying, Out of the mouth, the heart speaks.
That kicked-in-the-gut feeling took over, churning from the pit of her stomach all the way to her chest, and it was all Grace could do not to fall apart. She blinked past the tears that formed and stared down at the beautiful little girl in her arms, a constant reminder of the pain and loss she’d caused.
When Nathan walked away, Grace stood there, mute. She wanted to call out, to say something, to apologize again, but couldn’t. What more could she say? So instead she set Sophie in her high chair and scattered some dry cereal on the tray while she tidied the kitchen, anything to keep busy. There was a stack of flyers, pamphlets, and magazines on the corner of the counter that she straightened. One pamphlet in particular caught her eye.
Reverend Helman held sessions at the town hall every week for the victims of the school shooting. At the beginning, just after the shooting had occurred, a whole team of counselors had come and offered their services. Grace had even gone to a few sessions.
“Just throw those out if you don’t mind.” Nathan stood at the doorway, bag in hand, and pointed to the papers she held.
The mood between them was altered. Uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what she could say that hadn’t already been said. A part of her wanted to leave, to walk away, but that would mean walking away from Sophie, and she’d already promised she would never do that.
“There are some parenting ones that look interesting,” Grace said quietly.
Nathan only shrugged. “I need to get going. Thanks for…doing this.”
She attempted to smile. She could pretend things were normal for Sophie’s sake. She’d read that babies were tuned in to emotions.
“Before you do, I have a question. That city reporter stopped me the other day and mentioned that she wanted to do an article on Katie. She said that Arnold gave her my name.”
Nathan winced. “Do you mind?”
“Nooo…” Did she? “I just wanted to make sure you knew.” Which he apparently did.
He sighed. “Arnold sent me an e-mail a while ago. I gave your name. The idea is to draw attention to the community and the strength that Stillwater has, rather than letting it be a town people remember only by the shooting,” he explained.
She bit her lip. “Do you honestly think that’s possible? Why can’t we just move on? Why do we have to keep reading about the shooting and everyone’s speculations? Gabe is dead. He shot himself, and…” She stopped at the pained look on Nathan’s face. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“If it means people will remember Katie, if it will help to keep her memory alive, then I think it’s a good thing.” He looked at his daughter, then back at Grace. “I don’t think that’s asking too much, considering.” The resolve in Nathan’s gaze was strong and determined. “Is it?”
“Of course not.” Grace cleared her throat. “Anything for Katie.” Anything at all.
Even if it meant living with the knowledge that someone other than herself also placed the blame for Katie’s death at her feet.
6
CAMILLE
With her legs crossed beneath her, Camille turned the pages of her old scrapbook and let the nostalgia of memories ease her heavy heart.
Why couldn’t she follow her own dreams? When had she decided her own life, dreams, and goals were less important than others’? As a child she would spend hours poring through magazines, reading articles about famous gardens all over the world. She’d dreamed with her father about visiting each of them, and had even made a list at the back of her scrapbook of all the ones they’d heard about. Her father had wanted to visit Russia to see the famous Peterhof and Alexandrovsky gardens in Moscow, and she even remembered him saying that would be his retirement gift to himself.
The more she thought of Anne Marie’s idea about going on a trip, the more the idea appealed to her. With some careful budgeting, she might be able to do it in two years’ time. If—and it was a big if—sales remained steady, and as long as Paige didn’t need another emergency surgery.
“Hey.” Paige pushed open the sliding door from the backyard. “How are you feeling?” She set a paper bag down on the kitchen table.
“Hi.” She gave her sister a smile and patted the cushion beside her. “Better. I think a day of nothing but resting was exactly what I needed.” Camille closed the scrapbook on her lap.
“Wow, I haven’t seen that book in ages.”
“I know. I started thinking about Dad and our talks of traveling the world together. Do you remember how he used to talk about that fountain in the Peterhof Palace gardens?” She remembered spending hours with him looking through magazines and online images of the gardens there.
For a moment her face was clouded in sadness. “Not really. Where is that?”
“Russia.”
“Ah. Dad didn’t talk about stuff like that with me. It was more your thing, right?” Paige came and sat down beside her on the couch, leaning in and resting her head on Camille’s shoulder. “If you could go to one place within this book right now, where would you go?”
The question surprised Camille.
“Funny you should ask that.” She rested her head against her sister’s, thankful that despite the earlier tension, they could still sit like this, together. “Anne Marie wants to plan a trip.” She lightly rubbed the cover of her scrapbook, interested in her sister’s response.
“Cool. You going to go? I think you should.” Paige sat up and patted her knee before jumping up from the couch.
“You do?” Of all the ways she’d imagined this conversation going—Paige feigning interest when she had none or a barrage of questions about finances and what would she do alone with the store—this was unexpected.
Paige shrugged. “Why not? You’ve always wanted to travel. Hey, I
picked up dinner from Fred’s. Chicken Parmigiana was on the menu. Hope that was okay?”
So like Paige to go from one conversation to another.
Camille’s stomach grumbled as the aroma of one of her favorite dishes filled the air. “I thought we’d already used up our eating-out allowance for the week.” While they were not on a terribly strict budget, it was tight, and Fred’s wasn’t cheap.
With hands on hips, Paige gave her a look.
“I’m just saying.” Camille licked her lips while staring at the paper bag on the table.
“I’m aware of our budget. However, this was on the house. I stopped at his house today during my lunch and did some weeding.”
“Sorry.” She could see she’d crossed a line.
She’s an adult. Treat her like one, Camille repeated to herself as she set the scrapbook to the side and stood, already salivating. “How about we eat out on the deck?” It’d been a while since they’d last sat down together for a meal.
They moved everything outside.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” Paige mentioned after a few bites. “Two grown adults, who happen to be sisters, sitting at a table, enjoying a meal together. Treating each other as equals.”
Camille got the jabs. She heard the admonishment. She could read between the lines.
“I said I was sorry,” she reminded her sister. “You asked me to treat you like an adult…and I will. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Paige gave her a deep nod, as if accepting Camille’s apology at face value.
“So,” Paige said, setting her fork down after she’d finished eating, “back to your trip. You’re going to go, right?”
It took Camille a few moments to respond. She thought long and hard about it, wanting to follow her dreams while facing reality.
She remembered something her dad used to say to her.
If you want it bad enough, you’ll get rid of the excuses and start finding reasons to make it happen.
“I’m thinking about it.” She stared out over their yard. “We should really plant something back here, you know?” While searching for her scrapbook earlier she’d come across a notebook she used for designing garden beds.
“We could.” Paige followed her gaze. “Nice change of topic, by the way. Don’t think I won’t come back to it, though.” Paige pursed her lips together as she looked over the yard. “How about you design and I’ll plant? Is that what you’re thinking?”
“Yeah. I just remember Mom saying she couldn’t wait to retire so she could tend her own garden. She shouldn’t have waited, you know?”
They both sighed in unison. It had taken a long time before Camille and Paige could talk about their parents without tears in their eyes. Now they could talk about their mom and smile sadly.
Her talk with Anne Marie had Camille thinking about a lot of things today. Looking back, she saw that her life was full of one regret after another. Regret over not pursuing love when she had the chance, of not traveling when she should have, of not telling her dad just one more time she loved him, of being angry with Paige over something she had no control over—mainly her knee and all the surgeries and their dwindling finances. Regret over not following her own dreams but feeling like she had to do what needed to be done, without thinking about herself first.
Maybe it was time to stop living like that. Maybe it was time to stop living in the past and start focusing on the future.
“They were always waiting for one thing or another,” Paige said. “I know they gave up a lot for us, sacrificed a lot of their own dreams. Like Dad and his traveling, right?”
Camille gave her sister a soft smile. “It’s not always bad to put others first.”
“But you don’t have to. Not all the time. When do we get to start living the lives we want to live, rather than what others expect of us?”
Camille straightened at her sister’s words. Funny how the very thing she’d been dwelling on all day came out of Paige’s mouth. Like she’d been thinking about it too.
“Are you talking about the shop? You don’t want to work there anymore?” she asked. It was like a knife piercing the center of her heart and twisting. That was their family business, something their parents had created to serve as their legacy. Was Paige wanting to throw it away?
“This isn’t the life I thought I’d live, you know?” Paige winced and rubbed her knee. “I realize I can never play volleyball again, but I never really thought about afterward. Eventually I knew I’d have to do something with my life; this just wasn’t what I had in mind.” Paige looked out over their yard, the look in her eyes faraway.
“I’m sorry.” Camille wanted to lean over and give her sister a hug. She knew how hard giving up her dream had been for Paige, how devastating it was to find out she’d never play again.
Paige shrugged. “It is what it is. But there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, her face soft but her gaze strong. “I was thinking about it today actually. I hated sitting inside all day, waiting for people to come by, and yet I know you love being there. There’s history in there for you, memories of our parents that seem to feed your soul.”
Camille swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What is it you want to do then?” She wasn’t sure how she could run the business by herself.
“I like what I’m doing right now. Being outside, tending the gardens, weeding other people’s flower beds…it’s actually soothing to my own soul. Surprising, huh?” She rubbed her knee. “A killer for this, though. Maybe it’s time I went back to the doctor.”
For a moment Camille couldn’t breathe. Had she heard right? Paige not only liked working in the gardens, but she was going to get her knee taken care of? Miracles did happen. The tight feeling in her chest eased and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“For a moment there I thought you were telling me you were done.” She reached over and grabbed her sister’s hand, squeezing it with happiness. “I thought you were going to leave me, tell me you wanted to do your own thing, start a new life, live a new dream. I can’t tell you how relieved I am right now.”
Paige squeezed her hand back.
“I’m not leaving, Cam. We’re in this together.” She looked off into the distance. “We just need to figure out how that works, for both of us.”
“You’re right,” Paige began. “It’s time we talk about what our new dreams should be.”
“But?” There had to be a but in there somewhere. Camille gripped the chair handles and squeezed.
“But I…I think my first step should be finding my own place to live.”
The breath Camille held caught in her throat, choking her. She coughed, unable to breathe in, unable to ask the questions that were there on the tip of her tongue.
Paige jumped from her seat and pounded Camille’s back, as if that would help to open her airway.
When the shoe dropped, it dropped. This morning Paige accused her of not treating her like an adult, so what did her sister do? She made sure Camille had no choice but to see her as one.
Once she could breathe, Camille leaned back in her chair, head dropped back, and stared up at the sky.
“Cam?” Paige stood at her side, concern filling her face.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “So…moving out huh? Wow. Did not see that one coming.” She walked into the house, Paige trailing behind her.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Paige asked.
Camille stood at the counter, her hands gripping the edge, and counted to five, nice and slow.
“Of course not,” she said. “Surprised, but not mad. Is this sudden or”—she turned to face her sister—“something you’ve been thinking of for a while?”
Treat her like the adult she is. Treat her like the adult she is, Camille repeated in her head.
Paige shrugged and ran her fingers through her hair. “It just feels…right. Like it’s time, you know?” She stared at Camille, pleadi
ng with her eyes for understanding.
Camille was reminded of a similar conversation she’d had with her own mother, years ago, when she’d first broached the idea of moving out and living on her own. Spreading her wings, so to speak.
“When I was ready to move out, Mom and I stood here, almost in the exact same spots. I told her it felt like it was time too.” She smiled sadly at the memory.
“What did Mom say?” Paige leaned against the table and waited.
“That I would be the only one who knew when it was time or not, that I needed to trust my own instincts. She offered to take me shopping for towels and sheets and kitchen stuff.” Camille swallowed and breathed in deeply. “She then said that while I might think it was time, for her there would never be enough.”
When she glanced up, she caught the sheen of tears in Paige’s eyes before wiping her own.
“I guess I feel that way right now. I’m…I’m going to miss you, you know?” Camille admitted.
Paige rushed over and wrapped her tight in her arms. “It’s not like I’m going far.”
Her sister smiled through her tears, which had Camille fighting her own even more.
No matter what came their way, no matter how many times they butted heads or argued, Camille would forever be thankful to have her sister by her side.
Even if that meant learning to let go just enough for her sister to find her own way back home.
7
GRACE
For the past hour, Grace had ignored both her husband’s and her sister’s multiple texts.
Where are you? When are you coming home? Your sister is here. You are coming home, right? Damn it, Grace, where are you?
I’m here. Stop running away from me. Grace, don’t shut me out. Please, I miss you. Tell me where you are and I’ll meet you.
She hadn’t responded to either one of them. Nor did she plan to.
The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set Page 19