The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set

by Steena Holmes

  Camille smiled at the memory as well, then sobered. “I also remember you swearing you’d never get into the flower business.”

  Paige shrugged. “Life changes, and you either roll with it or get left behind, right?”

  The bell over the door rang, cutting Camille off from responding.

  Samantha walked in, coffees in hand. “Is this a bad time?”

  Camille looked at her sister. “Not at all.”

  “It’s a beautiful day out; why don’t we take the coffees to the park?” She hesitated for a moment.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Camille asked Paige. She looked at the orders they still had left but figured she’d be back in time to help finish with the last ones.

  Paige shook her head, pulling a stool out from the worktable. “I’m not going anywhere.” She winked. “I’ll work on these orders so they’re ready for delivery this afternoon.”

  “We’ll talk more when I get back, okay?”

  Camille couldn’t even begin to describe how she was feeling right this moment. She understood her sister’s need to move out; Paige was still in her twenties, after all. Camille didn’t like the idea of being alone at home, but she’d get used to it if she had to.

  “Ready?” Sam asked as she waited outside on the sidewalk. “I won’t take up much of your time, because I know you’re busy.”

  Camille shaded her eyes as she glanced around her. “It’s a nice break. Some days I barely get time to sit outside and enjoy the sun.”

  “I can drag you away more often if you’d like.” There was a hint of warmth in Samantha’s tone that caught Camille’s attention.

  “You’re staying at the Seaglass Bed and Breakfast, right?”

  Sam nodded. “It’s a beautiful house, and Shelley is the perfect host.”

  “Are you enjoying your time here? Will you be staying with us for much longer or…” She thought for sure Samantha would have left by now.

  “I find I like being here.” Sam glanced around the park where they’d sat down. “There’s something about Stillwater that feels like home to me. I decided to take a leave of absence from work and picked up a few articles from Arnold.”

  Camille breathed in deep and took a sip of her coffee. “Is this about one of those articles, then?”

  Sam nodded. “Have you seen any of them? I want to focus on the people who live here, the ones who are the heart of the town. There’s been enough negative focus over the past few months.”

  “Who are you focused on right now?” Camille asked. She really liked the idea, and even had a few suggestions for people if Sam needed any.

  “Grace Bryar, the kindergarten teacher. Do you know her?”

  Camille smiled. “Grace is a sweetheart. Everyone loves her, and the kids think she’s amazing. Do you know that every summer she holds special picnics for the kids not only coming into her class, but also those who just left it? She does a lot of volunteer work as well around town. Basically anything that involves children, she’s there.”

  Sam’s brow furrowed as she took notes. “I heard she used to basically run the teddy-bear picnics.”

  Camille nodded. “She does. She was the one who actually started them.”

  “Really? I wasn’t aware of that. I assumed it was another program Mayor Charlotte started.” Sam made some more notes.

  They sat there on the bench for roughly thirty minutes. Camille didn’t mind answering questions; she would just need to remember to tell Grace so she wasn’t caught off guard. Sam asked a lot of questions about Sophie, about Grace’s relationship with Katie, Sophie’s mother, but her questions were never intrusive.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got you and Paige on the list of people to write about,” Sam mentioned as they walked back to the florist shop.

  “You do?”

  “Your names keep popping up; did you know that? Specifically from Shelley, who has told me stories about your parents.”

  Camille just shook her head. Shelley Peters and her mother had been close, so that didn’t surprise her.

  “If you want to write about my parents, that would be lovely. I’m not sure how interesting Paige and I would be, though.” They arrived at the shop and Camille peeked in through the open door. Paige was on the phone and beckoned to her.

  “Listen, if you have a night free, why don’t you come over for dinner?” Camille offered. If Sam was staying for a while, she could probably use some friends, if she didn’t have some already.

  Sam’s eyes lit up. “Really? I’d love that.”

  They shared contact info before Camille headed into the store and listened in on Paige’s one-sided conversation.

  “Doris, I’m not canceling your daughter’s flower arrangement. She likes to send these to you.” Paige rolled her eyes.

  Camille smiled. She was glad Paige was dealing with this and not her. Doris loved having flowers delivered to her but would complain every month or so that Charlotte was spending too much money on them.

  “If you don’t accept them, then I’m going to give them to Jacqueline Willard,” Paige threatened.

  Camille almost snorted. There was a mutual hatred between Doris and Jacqueline, and it didn’t help that their rooms were next to each other at the retirement home.

  Nasty, Camille mouthed to her sister.

  “Thank you. See you soon. Don’t forget to put the teakettle on.” Paige hung up from her talk and burst out laughing.

  “Remind me to stop putting roses in Doris’s arrangements. She thinks they’re too expensive.” Paige went back to one of the arrangements she was working on, shaking her head as she did so.

  Seeing her sister there, working, Camille felt her heart swell. Paige belonged here with her in this store. Camille went over and gave her sister a hug, just because she wanted to.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?” Paige looked up at her questioningly.

  “For being willing to roll with whatever life hands you.” Camille reached for an order and read through it. There were three arrangements left to make for today’s deliveries; if they worked together, they should be able to finish them on time.

  “About that…how willing are you to roll?” Paige asked.

  Camille gave her sister a sidelong glance. “What do you mean?”

  “Meaning I think we need to talk about Still Bloomin and making some changes.”

  Excited chatter interrupted them as a mother with her two daughters entered the store. With a sigh, Camille stepped away from her sister to see whether she could offer some help.

  When she glanced over her shoulder, she caught the worried frown on her sister’s face. What more was she going to throw at her? Changes to their business? Like what? Downsizing? Branching off? Hiring more people? What was wrong with the status quo?

  Camille hated changes, and Paige was just throwing too many at her at once.

  9

  GRACE

  Grace woke up with a splitting headache.

  “There’s aspirin and water on your nightstand,” John said softly.

  Grace slowly sat up and reached for the glass of water, sipping it slowly before she took the two pills John had set down for her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She looked up and saw him sitting in her comfy corner chair, his legs crossed with a magazine on his lap.

  “Have you been awake long?” she asked him.

  “It’s midmorning, Grace,” John told her.

  She groaned. “Where’s Sophie?” She made as if to get up but John’s words stopped her.

  “Faith is taking care of her. They went out for a walk a little while ago.”

  She leaned back against her pillow instead and sighed with relief. Her head pounded, and she was filled with remorse for having drunk so much the night before.

  “What time did we get home?” she asked John.

  “I believe you slammed the front door around two in the morning.”

  “Slammed?”

  He no
dded.

  “We walked home, right?” she asked hopefully. The last thing she wanted to hear was that they drove home after drinking wine.

  “You walked. I headed over to Nathan’s a little while ago and brought your car back. You handed me Sophie’s car seat last night and asked me to put her to bed before you stumbled into our room and fell asleep.”

  “Sorry,” Grace said. She couldn’t believe she’d done that.

  “Apparently we owe Nathan a few bottles of wine. You told me to make sure we replaced them before he came home. You had to drink the expensive stuff, didn’t you?” John shook his head, but it was clear he was fairly amused.

  She took that as a good sign.

  “Was this before or after I handed you Sophie?” Things were fairly hazy in her mind. She closed her eyes and lightly rubbed her temple.

  “After. You woke up when I was undressing you and told me you were sorry and that we should go away for a vacation, just the two of us, to Iceland.”

  She peered at him through one eye and frowned. “Iceland?”

  He shrugged. “That’s what I said.”

  “Why would I want to go to Iceland? Why couldn’t I have said Hawaii or something?”

  “Iceland would be cool, though, don’t you think? I thought it was a good idea. At least you wanted to go somewhere with me, just the two of us.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and gave her a cute smile. “Or was that just the alcohol talking?”

  “If I suggested Iceland, it’s for sure the alcohol.”

  “I’m serious, Grace.” John leaned forward, the magazine tossed to the side.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to him. “I’m really, really sorry. I…I shouldn’t have gone to Nathan’s and offered to stay there; I should have—”

  “You should have stayed here and dealt with things. Running away never solves anything. Isn’t that what you say to your students?”

  She hung her head. “You’re right. I guess I just thought it would be easier.”

  John stood and crossed the room. He sat down on the bed and reached for her hands.

  “Easier than fighting for us? Than wanting to deal with whatever is going on between us?”

  She stared at their joined hands, not saying a word. He was right. Absolutely right.

  “You may want to give up, but I don’t,” he said.

  “I don’t,” she said, shaking her head, then groaning at the same time.

  “Do you love him?” John asked, his voice barely over a whisper.

  “No.” She squeezed his hand. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t love him. I love you and only you. I’m sorry you thought that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I promise. There is nothing between Nathan and me other than…” The words got stuck in her throat, and she had a hard time continuing.

  “So there is something.” John dropped his hands when she didn’t answer.

  Grace read the anguish in her husband’s eyes and hated herself for it.

  “No, no.” She swallowed hard, closing her eyes, and prayed for strength.

  “He hates me, John. He blames me for Katie’s death—and he’s right. He’s absolutely right. It is my fault. The only thing between us is Sophie, and my need to help out. That’s it. I promise.” She begged him to understand, to believe her.

  “He doesn’t hate you.” He cleared his throat before leaning forward, dropping his head between his shoulders, stooped and low.

  What had she done to him? To them?

  “He said as much last night. He blames me for Katie’s death and wishes it had been me. If that’s not hatred, I don’t know what is.”

  “So you hate yourself, then; is that what I’m hearing?” John edged closer on the bed.

  “I…” She didn’t know how to answer. Did she hate herself? She blamed herself, knew it was her fault Katie was dead. Her own fault she miscarried. The stress of everything had been too much for her body. But did she hate herself?

  “I don’t hate you.” John rubbed the back of his neck. “Your students don’t hate you. Sophie doesn’t hate you.”

  “Sophie’s a baby.”

  John shrugged. “Babies are good judges of character. If I remember correctly, she doesn’t like Arnold all that much. Every time she sees him she screams.”

  “That’s not funny, John. Nor is it the same thing. Arnold scares even me.” She gave a weak smile. “I don’t hate myself; I just…”

  “Blame yourself,” he finished for her.

  She nodded. “You must blame me too.”

  “No. I don’t. But you can’t keep letting that blame dictate things either.” He stood up and moved so he could sit beside her. She snuggled in as he held her. “I’m not asking you to let go, or to forget and move on. I’m just… Just let me in. Let me help you with this. That’s all I ask.”

  “What about Sophie?” She needed Katie’s daughter to be part of her life. She needed it like she needed air to breathe.

  “One day you’re going to have to accept that you can’t replace Katie in her life.” John leaned his head against hers.

  “I know,” Grace agreed. “I don’t want to replace her. I just…” She didn’t know how to articulate the need within her properly.

  “If Katie were still alive, you’d act like an aunt to her daughter, right? Offering to babysit every so often so she and Nathan could go out, buying her gifts, spoiling her rotten. Why can’t you just do that now?”

  “I am.”

  He shook his head. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You’re taking the responsibility of raising her out of Nathan’s hands and doing it for him. She needs her father, and I have a feeling he needs her too.”

  She swallowed hard. “You’re asking me to step back, and I’m not sure I can do that.”

  Nothing was said for a moment until John leaned forward and looked her in the eye.

  “So you’re going to quit your job then?”

  “No, why would I do that?” She loved her job. She had the career she’d always longed for. Her students were important to her, and she didn’t want to give that up.

  “Then what are you going to do come September? I’m sure the kids are already missing you. You don’t go to the teddy-bear picnics; you’re not at the beach; you’re not spending time with your students like you normally do. By now you’d already have a get-to-know-you party for the kids coming into your class.”

  The weight of that settled on Grace’s shoulders. Faith had basically said the same thing last night to her.

  “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you’ve done a great job.” Grace bit her lip. Another failure to add to the list. She’d failed her class, her students.…

  “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, Grace. Just to remind you that there’s life to be lived outside of taking care of Sophie.”

  The sound of the front door closing and Sophie’s cries caught Grace’s attention.

  “Just think about it, okay?” John asked. He relinquished his hold, as if knowing she’d want to get up now that Sophie was back.

  Grace swung her legs over the side of the bed and paused.

  Everything her husband had said made sense. Same with Faith. They weren’t wrong. She had to learn-somehow-to stop blaming herself. She had to believe that it wasn’t her fault Katie was dead. That it wasn’t her fault she’d had a miscarriage. But it was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “I’m going to need help,” she said with her head hung low.

  “Then I’m here.”

  “What about Faith?” she asked.

  “Your sister is here too.”

  “I know that, but that’s not what I meant.”

  “I know. Faith and I had a talk this morning over coffee. My jealousy of your relationship with her isn’t fair. Not to you, nor to us. She’s your sister. It’s not fair of me to be jealous of your closeness. I just…” He glanced up to the ceiling. “I felt like I came second place in your heart, and I didn’t like that.
”

  “But, John, you don’t. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but there’s no contest between my love for you and my love for my sister.”

  “I know. Guess I’ve got stuff to deal with too.” He leaned into her shoulder. “I love you, Grace Bryar. More than life itself. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life; you know that, right?” He leaned his forehead against hers and stared deep into her eyes.

  “I love you too, John Bryar,” Grace whispered back.

  10

  CAMILLE

  Camille played with her napkin while waiting for Paige to show up for dinner at Gina’s.

  The moment she’d returned to the shop, they’d gotten swamped and barely had time to talk about Paige’s ideas.

  “Is Paige closing up the shop or finishing a job?” Gina refilled her glass of water.

  “Closing up shop.” Camille glanced at the time on her phone. Paige was fifteen minutes late.

  “How about I bring you out some fresh bread and garlic butter?” Gina asked.

  Camille’s stomach grumbled.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Gina laughed. She squeezed Camille’s shoulder before heading back into the kitchen.

  Camille looked around the café. The tables were starting to fill up with families, and she waved hello to many of the people she knew.

  Paige finally joined her, sliding into the seat across from her, hanging her purse on the edge of her chair.

  “Sorry that took so long. Just after you left a customer knocked at the front door. He must have seen the lights on.”

  “What did he need?”

  The corners of Paige’s lips lifted. “He lost his wedding ring on the beach.”

  Camille chuckled softly. “How many times have we heard that? Or lost in the water while swimming, or…” She shook her head as she thought about the multiple excuses they’d heard over the years when men showed up last-minute looking for flowers, thinking a bouquet would bring a measure of forgiveness.

  “Thanks for your help this afternoon with the arrangements. I can’t believe how busy it got with walk-in orders.”