Contents
About the Book
About the Author
Also by Debbie Macomber
Title Page
Dedication
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Copyright
The Inn at Rose Harbor
Angels at the Table
Starting Now
Rose Harbor in Bloom
Starry Night
Blossom Street Brides
Love Letters
Mr Miracle
Last One Home
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Epub ISBN 9781473506633
Version 1.0
Published by Arrow Books 2015
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Copyright © Debbie Macomber 2015
Debbie Macomber has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain by Arrow Books in 2015
Arrow Books
20 Vauxhall Bridge Road
London SW1V 2SA
www.randomhouse.co.uk
Arrow Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9780099595083
To Rick Hamlin
Trusted Friend
Talented Writer and Singer
All-Around Good Guy with a Big Heart
Happy 60th Birthday
Dear Friends,
Welcome back to Rose Harbor! Jo Marie, the owner of the Inn at Rose Harbor, is eager to greet her newest guests, and she’s badly in need of a distraction. Nothing is working out the way she wants, though isn’t that life? We seldom get what we want, but we almost always get what we need. And at this juncture in hers, Jo Marie has plenty of needs and wants … most of which involve Mark Taylor, her handyman.
As for those guests: The teenage years have always intrigued me, especially the angst and torment of falling in love for the first time. After reading several wonderful young adult novels recently, I found my mind conjuring up a story of young love.
You’re about to meet Coco and Katie, who are returning to Cedar Cove for their ten-year high school reunion. They each have a specific reason for attending: an agenda to right wrongs and mend the wounds incurred by their first high school loves. And naturally they plan to stay at the Inn at Rose Harbor.
My hope is that you enjoy this next installment in the Rose Harbor Inn series and that your own mind will wander back to those high school days, when every emotion was so new and intense.
Hearing from my readers brings me great joy. I personally read every letter and post and thank you for your comments. What you’ve shared over the years has had a serious impact on my career. You can reach me at my website, DebbieMacomber.com, or on Facebook. Letters are welcome as well, mailed to P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.
Thank you for your ongoing support and encouragement.
Warmest regards,
This Christmas will be full of surprises...
All that Ashley wants for Christmas is to get home to surprise her widowed mother. But all the flights are booked and there’s only one car left to hire.
Dash is in a hurry. Recently demobbed from the army, he has an interview to attend, and he’s determined to get the job. If getting there means sharing a car with the extremely talkative Ashley, then that’s what he’ll have to do.
The last thing either of them expected was that they might begin to like each other…
The first year of being a widow was by far the most difficult. When I got the news that my husband had been killed in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan, it felt like an atomic bomb had gone off inside my head. My entire life, my body, my heart felt as if I’d gone into a free fall. For weeks I was reeling with pain and loss, stumbling from one day to the next. It felt wrong that the world would continue when it had come to a complete halt for me.
With no other choice, I struggled to make sense of this new reality that was mine. Only a few months after I received word of Paul’s death, against everyone’s advice, I left the corporate world and purchased a bed-and-breakfast. I moved from Seattle to a quaint community called Cedar Cove on the Kitsap Peninsula.
The first night I spent as the inn’s new proprietor I felt Paul’s presence as keenly and profoundly as if he were sitting by my side and speaking to me. He told me I would heal at this inn and all who came to stay would find a harbor of healing as well. It was for that reason that I named my bed-and-breakfast the Inn at Rose Harbor. Rose for my husband, Paul Rose, and Harbor for the promise he had given me.
Over the last eighteen months, I have seen that promise come to fruition and witnessed it with many of my guests as well. Slowly, one day at a time, I forged a new life for myself, a life without Paul. Recently I read the last letter my husband had written to me—a love letter he’d penned in case he didn’t return. It took a long time to find the courage to absorb what he had to say, mainly because I didn’t want to accept the fact he was really gone. As I knew he would, Paul wrote that he loved me and that he would always be with me. He asked that I live a good life for the both of us.
I’d taken Paul’s words to heart and built a new life without him as best I could. As he’d foretold, the inn became the focus of the new me. Every day was a learning opportunity, a season of personal and professional growth. For one, I became far more proficient in the kitchen, creating tasty breakfasts for my guests. I also made friends in the community—good friends. I adopted a dog from the local animal shelter, Rover, who’d been named that because when he was found, it looked as if he’d been roaming on his own for quite some time. Rover had become my constant companion, my comforter, and my guard. I found it uncanny how well he sensed and reacted to my moods. It was almost as if Paul had directed Rover into my life.
One of the strongest friendships I forged was with my handyman, Mark Taylor. Mark can be prickly and mysterious, and while I considered him a friend, he could irritate me faster than anyone I’d ever known. I like to think of myself as even-tempered and not easily riled. Not so with Mark. Only a few words from him could drive me up the wall. At times he can be so unreasonable and demanding.
A good example of that happened last spring. I was washing the outside windows, balancing on a ladder. Out of the blue Mark insisted in the most unpleasant way that I climb off the ladder. I refused and he became so infuriated that he’d walked off the job. Really, he had no right to dictate what I do or don’t do. It took a while for us both to cool down and be reasonable.
Ever since I read Paul’s last letter my emotions have been on a roller coaster. I felt as if I was losing Paul. I’d stopped dreaming about him, and when I held his favorite sweatshirt, I could no longer smell the essence, the aroma, that had been my husband’s.
As I slowly let go of Paul, I distracted myself by trying to crack the mystery that was Mark. He’d always been secretive, and never talked about his past. He was hiding something and I knew it. I plied him with questions, which he either refused to answer or completely ignored. I quizzed people who knew him before I moved to Cedar Cove, all to no avail. I went so far as to invite him to join my parents and me for dinner one night about three weeks ago. My mother has a gift for getting people to talk about themselves, and if anyone could weasel information from Mark it would be my mother. He thwarted me once again by refusing the invitation.
When I realized I’d used my curiosity about him as a diversion from my fear that Paul was slipping away from me, I apologized to Mark. It was then that Mark had shocked me with a confession. He claimed he’d fallen in love with me.
Mark loved me? I still had trouble wrapping my mind around that fact. If that wasn’t shocking enough, what followed was even more eye-opening. Mark mentioned that he’d used every excuse imaginable in order to spend time with me. Until that very minute I’d been completely oblivious, but then everything came together like one giant thunderclap in my head. Although he declared his heartfelt feelings, he added that he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, allow the way he felt to develop into a long-lasting relationship. He intended to nip it in the bud.
As you can imagine, my thoughts started spinning like a windmill in a storm. It was then that Mark announced that he was leaving Cedar Cove. Of course I objected; he was being ridiculous. I’ll never forget what he said—it’s burned into my memory.
A faraway look came over him and he refused to meet my eyes as he told me, “You were married to Paul Rose, and he was a hero. He gave his life in defense of our country. He’s everything I’m not. I’m the antithesis of a hero, make no mistake in that.” He went on to say that he was digging himself out of a black hole and that he should have been the one who died, not Paul.
Mark made it seem as if he felt guilty that he was alive and Paul was dead. I couldn’t believe he was serious about moving away from Cedar Cove. It was such a rash and unreasonable decision I could only assume he wasn’t serious, but I was wrong.
I suspected he would have packed up his bags that very night if I hadn’t convinced him to stay long enough to finish the gazebo I’d hired him to build. I was forced into reminding him that we had a contract, not one written in ink and legally binding, but a verbal one. If I knew anything about Mark—and really, when it came right down to it, I knew more than I realized—he was a man of his word. He’d already started the construction. I could tell he wasn’t happy to remain in town any longer than necessary, but he reluctantly agreed.
I’d hoped that given time I’d be able to convince him to stay. After his declaration of love, I needed to delve into my own feelings, and I couldn’t do that if he pulled a disappearing act.
The three weeks that followed proved to me exactly how serious Mark was about leaving Cedar Cove. About leaving me. Whereas before, any job I hired him to do took weeks—often months—he couldn’t seem to finish this latest project fast enough. He started work in the early mornings and then he worked well past dusk, pushing himself to the point of exhaustion, until it became impossible to see in the dark any longer.
When I’d originally hired Mark to build the gazebo, I guesstimated that it would take him three to four months to finish the project, thinking I’d be lucky if he finished before Christmas. Yet in just a matter of weeks he had it nearly completed. For Mark to finish anything in three weeks was unheard of.
In fact, I could hear him outside this morning. It was barely light and he was already at work. I’d been up for about a half hour and had breakfast in the oven for my guests. It was one of my favorite recipes, stuffed French toast, which I’d assembled the night before and placed in the refrigerator. The coffee was brewed and the table set.
Rover wanted out and so I carried my coffee outside and stood on the porch watching Mark work away. He knew I was there but didn’t acknowledge me. I wasn’t surprised. Ever since our talk he’d basically ignored me as much as possible. I grappled with him, unable to understand how it was that he could claim to love me in one breath and then pretend as if I were invisible. I’d always found Mark difficult, but this was crazy.
“Morning,” I called out cheerfully.
He nodded, without looking in my direction.
“Good morning,” I repeated, louder this time.
“Morning.” The greeting came grudgingly.
“You’re in a grand mood this fine day. What’s your problem?” He was often like this, taciturn and grumpy, but I was determined not to let it bother me.
As I knew he would, Mark ignored the question. I tried a different tactic. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No thanks.”
“Can I get you anything? Cookies?” I swear the man was addicted to my baking, especially my cookies.
“Nothing.”
The thanks was missing this time. He had a five-gallon container of white paint sitting on the lawn, which meant that he was about to start the last stages of the project. My stomach tightened.
“It’s going to be a busy weekend,” I said, sitting down on the top step and cupping my mug between my hands. The morning had a chill to it and the warmth from the coffee inched its way up my arm. Autumn was approaching and I could feel it in the air, with a light scent of pine and sunshine on the turning leaves. Rover sat down at my side, nestling close to me, almost as if he felt my anxiety.
Mark didn’t comment.
“Two women are due to arrive later this afternoon. They both live in Seattle, but it’s their ten-year class reunion. They said they didn’t want to worry about getting back to the city in case the parties went late and so they booked for both Friday and Saturday night.”
He answered with a halfhearted shrug.
The silence between us felt oppressive. I found it difficult to carry on a one-sided conversation. The air between us seemed to throb with tension. It went without saying that Mark didn’t want me anywhere close to him. He’d made it plain that he’d prefer to be just about anyplace I wasn’t. If he truly did have feelings for me, then why the avoidance? Questions filled my head until I thought it would explode, but it did no good to ask. I’d tried that countless times and it was like butting my head against a brick wall.
When I heard the buzzer go off in the kitchen, indicating the French toast was ready to come out of the oven, I was almost grateful for the excuse to break away. Just before I entered the house, I looked back and saw his shoulders relax as if he was relieved to see me go. It was almost as if being close to me made him uncomfortable, and that was so unlike what it had once been. I missed the man who was a friend, who used to sit with me in the late afternoons. The one who listened as I talked about my day. Yes, he challenged and irritated me at times, but for the most part he made me think. He made me feel again when my heart had gone numb. I could laugh with Mark.
My guests, a couple in town for their only granddaughter’s birthday celebration, lingered over breakfast and then checked out of the inn. They were headed to the airport. I went outside, stood on the porch, and waved them off, but I was more interested in Mark than I was in my departing guests. I looked for a way to break through that concrete wall he’d erected. At first I assumed he was embarrassed for confessing his feelings for me, but that didn’t appear to be the case. I’d tried several times to get him to talk about it, but time and again he’d rebuffed my efforts. He was having none of it.
“The gazebo is looking great,” I commented, trying yet again. I folded my arms around my middle. “You’ll be finished soon.” He’d done an amazing job with this latest project. The gazebo was exactly as I’d pictured it and big enough to use for weddings and small gatherings, just the way I’d hoped. I could easily picture couples standing in the very structure as they pledged their love and their lives to each other.
Up to this point the bed-and-breakfast was barely breaking even financially. I needed a way to generate additional income, and offering the facility as a wedding venue seemed like a good idea.
“I see you’ve got the paint.”
No comment.
His lack of response irritated me, so I returned to the house and grabbed a light sweater and Rover’s leash. Walking my dog would help burn off the frustration. If Mark wanted to ignore me, then fine. I could give him all the breathing room he wanted and more.
When I returned with the leash, I found Rover lying on the grass close to where Mark worked. He rested his chin on his paws and kept close tabs on my handyman.
“You ready for a walk, Rover?” I asked. Generally, the instant he saw the leash Rover was on his feet, tail wagging energetically, eager to get going. Not this morning. Rover looked at me with dark brown eyes and then at Mark and then back again.
“Rover,” I said again, with a bit more emphasis. “Let’s take a walk.”
“Go on,” Mark said gruffly, nodding toward my dog.
“You talking to me or Rover?” I asked.
“Both of you.”
“Fine.” I walked over to Rover and attached his leash. He didn’t seem all that interested until I tugged a little. He stood and we headed out of the yard. Rover paused and looked back at Mark much the same way I had earlier.
As soon as we left the driveway, I walked at a clipped pace to work off my irritation. The way I was feeling now, I considered myself well rid of Mark Taylor. If he wanted to move away from Cedar Cove, then it was fine by me. Good riddance! He was moody, cantankerous, and a pain in the butt.
By the time I’d walked two or three blocks, all uphill, I was winded. I’d walked so fast that I’d probably set a personal best, time-wise. The one positive was that the irritation I felt when I left the house had lessened. I took in several deep breaths and slowed my pace. Rover seemed grateful.
For reasons I didn’t want to think about, I decided to walk past Mark’s house. I remembered the time I’d found him in his workshop. A table had collapsed and pinned him down. He’d broken his leg and must have been in horrific pain.
Although he’d strongly objected, I called for help and followed the Aid Car to the hospital. After he was X-rayed and had a cast put on, I’d driven him home. One thing I could say about Mark was that he made a terrible patient. He’d snapped at me, complained, and issued orders as if I was personally responsible for his injury. He made it sound as if I was the very bane of his existence. Heaven only knew how long it would have taken for someone else to have found him—one would think he’d be grateful, but oh no, not Mark.
To be fair, he did thank me later. Weeks later, and even then the appreciation had come grudgingly.
Although Mark claimed to be in love with me, the thing was, I didn’t know how I felt about him. I’d hardly been given the chance to absorb his declaration, let alone react to it. I wanted to talk about it, but he was having none of that.
The thing with Mark was that we disagreed on almost every subject. It took me a while to catch on that he purposely egged me on. At first he infuriated me. Not until later did I realize that arguing with him stirred my senses. I’d wallowed in my grief for months. Arguing with Mark lit a fire under me and proved my emotions hadn’t stagnated. I still had the ability to feel.
I’d gotten used to spending time with Mark. We played Scrabble and would sometimes sit out on the porch at the inn and watch the sun set. He’d helped me plant a garden and I shared the produce with him. I’d enjoyed being with Mark and missed the times we shared. I missed him. And this was only a foretaste of what was to follow if I believed that he was indeed moving away.
The question was whether I cared for him the same way he said he cared for me. The truth was I didn’t know if I was capable of loving another man after Paul. Perhaps Mark sensed that, read my doubts and felt he couldn’t compete with a dead man. I shook my head, certain now that I was grasping at the thin strands of a spiderweb.
I turned the corner to the street where Mark lived. As if he knew exactly where we were headed, Rover strained against the leash.
“Mark isn’t at his house,” I reminded my dog. “There’s no need to rush; he isn’t home.”
Rover barked as if discounting my words and pulled ever harder on the leash.
“Rover, Mark’s at the inn.”
I had to half run in order to keep up with my dog. It was as if Rover had something to show me, something he felt was important for me to see.
I didn’t understand what was happening until I came closer, and when I saw Mark’s house, I came to a dead stop.
The sign was prominently posted in front of the house, square on the edge of the grass, for anyone and everyone who drove by to see.
It was a local Realtor’s sign that read in large red letters: FOR SALE.
This was no ruse, no trick. Mark was serious. He was leaving Cedar Cove, and more important, he was leaving me.
Kellie “Coco” Crenshaw found it difficult to believe ten years had passed since she was in high school. Her overnight bag was laid open on top of her bed as she tried to pack for the reunion weekend. She had several outfits carelessly tossed across the bedspread as she sorted through her choices. She had to look great.
The window was open and the scent of Puget Sound and late summer filled the apartment. Coco lived close to the University district in Seattle, in a quaint brick building that had been constructed during World War II. It’d been updated a couple times over the years but had managed to maintain its distinctive charm. Coco loved her apartment, small as it was.
It’d been a major decision for her to remain in Washington state after her father had accepted a job transfer to the Chicago area. Within a matter of weeks, the family had moved, including her two younger sisters. That had happened six years ago, just about the time Coco graduated from college. She’d opted to stay in Seattle along with her older brother. For a long time afterward she feared she’d made the wrong decision, but she was happy to be in familiar territory. Aunts, uncles, and cousins were scattered all across western Washington, so she was never really alone.
Her phone buzzed and Coco quickly checked the text. It was from Katie Gilroy, a high school friend.
You home yet?
Yup. You?
Having second thoughts. Not sure I want to do this.
Coco typed furiously. She’d half expected this would happen.
Too late now. Be there soon.
No way was she letting Katie off the hook—they were attending this reunion, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Coco had made the reservations at Rose Harbor Inn for two nights. She’d gone through all kinds of hassles to get this Friday afternoon off. She wasn’t going to let Katie back down now.
It hadn’t been easy to convince Katie to join her, but Coco had an answer for every excuse Katie tossed her way. They were doing this.
She was scheduled to pick up Katie at two that afternoon and then they’d take the ferry from Seattle to Bremerton and drive around the cove to the town they both knew so well—Cedar Cove.
Unlike Katie, Coco looked forward to attending this reunion. According to Lily Franklin, the reunion organizer, Coco had been the first person to mail in a check. But her eagerness to reunite with her high school class wasn’t for the reasons some might assume.
Coco was going back to her hometown, to the school and classmates she’d known for the majority of her life, for one reason and one reason only.
Ryan Temple.
Just thinking about Ryan caused her blood pressure to spike. Nearly everyone in Cedar Cove viewed him as some kind of athletic Adonis who could do no wrong. He’d been the quarterback of the football team for all three years. He played baseball, too, and was good enough that after two years in college he’d been picked up by a professional team, and played in the minors for a couple years before heading to the majors.
She forgot which team he’d played for. Saint Louis? New York? Knowing what she did about him, she’d purposely not paid attention. Ryan Temple had become a hometown star, the All-American hero. It wouldn’t surprise her if Cedar Cove threw him a parade. Legions of fans would line the streets, women would swoon; kids would chase after him and ask for his autograph.
Not Coco, though. No one knew Ryan the way she did.
Ryan had done her wrong, way wrong, and she was determined to finally tell him exactly what she thought of him. For ten years Coco had held onto her anger and pain. No longer, though. The time had come for Ryan Temple to own up to what he’d done.
Taking in a deep breath, Coco calmed her pounding heart. She had everything planned out in her mind and relished the thought of embarrassing him in front of their classmates the way he had her. It was what Ryan deserved.
Wanting to hit the road before Katie changed her mind, Coco finished the last of her packing, grabbed her overnight bag, purse, and car keys, and was out the door within ten minutes.
While on the drive to Katie’s apartment, she heard her phone beep, indicating another text. She ignored it, knowing it had to be from Katie.
Her friend’s apartment was less than five miles from Coco’s place, but with heavy traffic it took her nearly as long as if she’d jogged over. Just as she suspected, Katie wasn’t out front waiting, as they’d discussed. That meant Coco had to find a parking spot, no easy task in the Denny Hill neighborhood. It seemed every street had some form of construction, which meant she had to drive around the block several times before she was lucky enough to secure a spot.
Grabbing her purse, she leaped out of the car and hurried down the sidewalk to Katie’s building. She found her friend on the third floor, pacing the hallway.
“You’re upset, aren’t you?” Katie asked nervously.
“Of course not.”
Katie’s dark eyes rounded with surprise and gratitude. “I thought you’d be furious with me …”
“Why should I be? You’re coming to the reunion just the way we planned.”
Katie’s shoulders slumped forward as though someone had forced her to lift a hundred-pound barbell. When she managed to speak, her voice was a plaintive cry. “James doesn’t want to see me.”
“You don’t know that,” Coco insisted, although if everything Katie told her was true, then she might be right. Still, she knew her friend needed to face James to get some closure. That was why she felt so strongly she must convince Katie to go.
“He’s the only reason I even signed up,” she said, and then added, “Well, other than you telling me I needed to do this. The thing is, I hardly know anyone and I doubt anyone will remember me.”
“You know me.”
“Well … okay, but only a few of the others. James made it clear he doesn’t want anything more to do with me. I’ve accepted that.”
Coco balanced her hand on her hip and snorted. “You have a say in this, too!”
Katie’s eyes revealed her misery. “I have to accept it. James has rejected my friend request on Facebook. He’s ignored my LinkedIn invite and blocked me from email. I got the message. What’s done is done.”
“He signed up for the reunion, didn’t he? This could be your one and only chance to talk to him. Do you seriously want to let this opportunity slip by? If you do, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Katie briefly closed her eyes. “You’re right.”
“My guess is that he wants to see you, too, although he would never admit it.”
Katie doubted that, and her look said as much.
Coco felt otherwise. “He had to know you were on the list.”
“Not necessarily,” her friend argued. “He made sure I know how he feels, and frankly it’s just too painful to face yet another rejection. What happened between us was a long time ago. He’s moved on with his life and so have I. Attending the reunion will only dredge up painful memories for us both.”
“Do you want to set the record straight or not?” Coco asked, because she knew that was exactly what Katie wanted most.
“I do,” she admitted reluctantly.
“Then get your bag and let’s go.”
What Coco wasn’t telling her friend—or even admitting to herself—was that facing this reunion wasn’t any easier for her. There was no need to burden Katie with her own emotional baggage when Katie had enough of her own to deal with.
Still, Katie hesitated.
“You may never have a chance like this again,” Coco reminded her.
Whenever she was nervous or uncertain, Katie chewed the inside of her bottom lip, a habit she’d had from the time they were in high school. Coco noticed that she did so now. “Okay, okay,” Katie said. “I just hope I don’t live to regret this.”
“Trust me, you won’t.”
Katie made a scoffing sound as she opened the door to her apartment and hurried inside. Thankfully, her suitcase was already packed. Coco grabbed the handle away from her and raced down the hallway, dragging the carry-on behind her. She wasn’t giving Katie a chance to change her mind … again.
Katie reluctantly followed Coco to the parked car. It went without saying this weekend would demand every ounce of courage her friend had.
Coco unlocked her vehicle and loaded the suitcase into the trunk next to her own while Katie slipped inside and latched the seat belt in place. Her shoulders were rigid, as if she were physically preparing herself for battle.
Coco placed her hands on the steering wheel and hesitated. She loved Katie and genuinely believed that going to the reunion would be the best thing for her. Her reasons for insisting Katie accompany her were partly selfish, too, though. She didn’t have a significant other in her life and it would be hard to walk into the reunion alone. Katie was her security blanket, a friend she could hide behind when everything hit the fan with Ryan.
Feeling mildly guilty for forcing Katie to accompany her, Coco’s hands tightened around the ignition key. “You still love him, don’t you?”
Katie nodded. “Funny, isn’t it? Does anyone ever really get over their first love?”
“It’s going to work out, I know it is.”
Katie didn’t look as though she believed her, but she smiled, as if grabbing hold of that one small thread of hope and holding on to it with every ounce of strength she possessed.
Weaving their way through roadwork, detour signs, and traffic, Coco headed down to the waterfront. They paid their fare and queued up for the ferry that would take them back to Cedar Cove.
“It’s going to be a good weekend,” Coco insisted, more to bolster her own spirits than out of any real conviction. Every detail of what she wanted to say to Ryan had been reviewed countless times. Ryan Temple was finally going to be forced to face her and own up to the hell and humiliation he’d put her through. If everything went as she expected, Ryan wouldn’t dare show his face in town again. His good-boy image would be forever tarnished.
Although it was only in the mid-sixties weather-wise, the car soon felt stuffy and overly warm. Katie scooted back her seat and leaned her head against the headrest.
“James has never forgiven me, you know,” she whispered, without looking at Coco.
“Yeah.” Forgiveness didn’t come easily to her, either.
“You’re going because of Ryan, aren’t you?” Katie was a good enough friend to know Coco had her own motives for attending this reunion.
“I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”
“I understand.” Katie’s cheeks reddened, but it might have been the heat inside the car.
“It’s okay, no big deal.” Looking for a distraction, Coco started the car’s engine and rolled down the windows to let in the cooler air. The scent of the sound was more pungent this close to the water. Seagulls circled overhead, their cawing echoing over the parking lot as they waited for the ferry’s arrival.
“Is Ryan married?”
Coco stared out the driver’s-side window, avoiding eye contact. “I wouldn’t know.” Heaven help the poor woman who was foolish enough to get involved with the likes of Ryan Temple. Coco felt her friend’s eyes boring into her.
“You have good reason to hate him.”
“Why would I do that?” Coco downplayed her bitterness, not wanting Katie to guess how strongly she felt about the jerk. “It was ten years ago. I’ve put it behind me.” That was only half true. With her busy work schedule, Coco didn’t date often. No time, although if the right man came along she’d find the time.
A silly faraway look came over Katie. “You were the cutest couple. I remember watching you and Ryan walk down the hallway and thinking the two of you were perfect together. Who would have guessed what he was really like?”
Coco snorted with disbelief, searching for a way to turn the subject away from Ryan.
“You were,” Katie insisted. “I thought you were, anyway.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Ten years,” Katie murmured. “Can you believe that it’s been ten years since we were all together?” All at once she sat up straighter and her eyes went wide. “The time capsule. We buried one, remember? As part of the reunion we’ll be digging it up, right?”
“Not until our twentieth class reunion.”
“Oh right.”
“If the next ten years pass as quickly as these ten, we’ll be opening that capsule before we know it.”
The ferry could be seen approaching in the distance. It wouldn’t be long now before they boarded. Thankfully, the car had cooled off.
“Before we graduated, did you ever think about what our lives would be like in ten years?”
Coco mulled over the question. “Not really.” By graduation day she’d been sick at heart, confused, and angry. The first two emotions had faded away over the years, but not the anger. Never the anger. It had become a part of her, an extra appendage like a third arm or leg.
The ferry docked and a long line of cars disembarked, rolling single file into the street with the waterfront traffic. Coco started the car and put it in gear, following the truck in front of her onto the ferry.
Katie didn’t say anything for a long moment and then whispered, “I’m glad you made me come this weekend.”
“I’m glad you came, too.”
“It’s going to be a great weekend for us both, meeting up with old friends and learning about one another’s lives, although I doubt anyone will remember much about me.”
“They’ll remember,” Coco promised.
“I doubt it,” Katie countered, “but it doesn’t matter. There’s only one person I want to see.”
There was only one person Coco wanted to see, too.
As much as she was dreading this reunion, Katie had accepted the fact that Coco wasn’t going to let her back out, especially at the last minute. After so many sleepless nights Katie would finally have the opportunity to explain to James what had happened. This reunion could very well be her one and only chance, and like Coco said, if she gave up now she would always regret that she’d let this opportunity pass her by.
Without a single word of communication, her high school sweetheart had let it be known that he wanted nothing more to do with her. She’d tried by all the normal routes to connect with him, but he’d ignored each one, shunning her efforts. Katie hated the thought of leaving matters between them as they were. She didn’t expect anything to change, but she just had to have a chance to explain herself.
Coco drove onto the ferry and parked close to the vehicle in front of her. Cars lined up in designated rows, one after another, in the belly of the boat.
“Do you want to get a soda or something topside?” Coco asked.
Katie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. You go ahead and I’ll sit here for a few minutes and sort through my thoughts.”
“Promise you won’t even think of backing out.”
“Promise.”
Coco got out and headed upstairs. Katie stretched in her seat; the cool air was fresh and clean, and she breathed it in. It really was a lovely afternoon. The reunion committee couldn’t have asked for better weather for this get-together. It was as if they knew exactly which dates to book.
This weekend had the potential to be life-changing, as uncomfortable and awkward as it was. She could hardly believe that the last time she’d seen James was the summer after their graduation.
In all her life no one had ever loved Katie as much as James Harper had. He’d been willing to sacrifice everything for her. As much as she had loved him in return, Katie couldn’t allow that. If he’d given up college for her, it would have forever tainted their relationship. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and forced herself to think positive thoughts.
Because she wanted it so badly, she pictured seeing James at the reunion and his reaction once he saw her. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d changed. She had. Not physically so much—the years had matured her, shaped her, and she assumed they had him as well. She wondered if he knew she’d gone into social work, helping young teens. He’d been the one to suggest she’d be good in that line of work. Was it possible that he remembered saying that to her all those years ago? She hoped he did.
The car door opened, momentarily startling Katie. Coco was back, holding two cans of soda. She handed one to Katie. “I brought you one anyway.”
“Thanks.” The can felt cool in her hand.
Her friend joined her and they both opened the soda cans. The cracking sound seemed to echo in the confines of the car.
“Worried about the reunion?” Coco said before she took the first swallow of her drink.
“A little.” A lot, actually, but admitting that didn’t come easily. “You?”
Coco shifted in her seat. “Not at all.”
Katie snorted her drink. “You never could get away with a lie. Your body language gives you away, hon.”
“Okay, I’m a little nervous, but no more than you or anyone else.”
“Yeah, right.”
Coco grinned. “I haven’t kept in touch with a lot of people.”
“Me neither.” Between working two jobs, attending night classes, and finally obtaining her degree, there’d been little time for socializing. Other than Coco and one or two others, Katie hadn’t made a lot of friends from their graduating class. She’d started Cedar Cove High School in October of her senior year. If it wasn’t for swim team she probably wouldn’t have connected with Coco, either. Their friendship had been key for her. If not for Coco, any connection Katie had with her classmates might have completely dissolved. Thankfully, almost from the first day Katie arrived at the school, shy, withdrawn, and feeling out of place, Coco had taken her under her wing.
They sat side by side for several moments without speaking, each caught up in her own thoughts.
“Can I ask you something?” Katie asked softly.
Coco shrugged. “Anything.” Then she hesitated. “Let me revise that. Except if I don’t know the answer, find it embarrassing, or just plain don’t feel it’s any of your business.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” Katie said, not bothering to disguise her amusement.
“Okay, fine, what’s your question?”
Katie set the soda can aside. “Have you ever had a hard time forgiving someone?”
Right away Coco bristled, and Katie realized it was a loaded question and one she should never have asked her friend.
“What makes you ask?” Coco wanted to know.
Katie exhaled hard enough for her shoulders to lift as she expelled her breath. “I’m trying to look at this meeting with James the way a wronged party would.”
“Have you ever had to forgive someone?” Coco demanded.
“Of course.” She couldn’t have made it this far in life without learning to let go of hurts from the past, especially the pain her parents had brought into her life. To the father who’d been a drunk and who’d abandoned her and her mother when Katie was a toddler. She had to move past the anger she carried about a mother who had then sought release from the pain of that rejection in drugs and alcohol as well.
“Was it easy?”
Katie wasn’t sure how this all had gotten turned around and she was the one answering the questions. “No. It was hard, but I knew it was necessary.”
“Why?”
“Why did I forgive or why was it necessary?” Her friend had grown quiet and intense. Coco’s fingers clung to the soda can as if trying to strangle it.
“Both.”
“I haven’t seen or heard from my father in over twenty-five years. He didn’t ask for forgiveness, nor did he seek me out. As a kid, especially when I got into my teens, I wanted to see him just so I could cuss him out. It never happened, though, and I suppose it was just as well.”
“Did you hate him?”
Katie considered the question. “Hate him? No, not really. I figured in the end he probably got what he deserved. Life is like that, you know?”
“Like what?”
“It’s the old ‘what goes around comes around’ philosophy. At least that’s the way I like to think it works. My father treated people badly and he ended up alone.”
“That gives me hope,” Coco murmured.
Katie reacted quickly. “Hope?” she blurted out.
“I mean without hope. Those kinds of people usually end up without hope, right?”
“Right.” Katie was fairly certain she hadn’t misunderstood her friend. She studied Coco with fresh eyes. Although Coco never talked about what happened with Ryan, Katie was well aware her friend longed for some kind of payback. But then, how could she not? If the situation were reversed, Katie was fairly certain she’d feel the same way.
“You forgave your father, though,” Coco asked.
Katie glanced down at her hands. She didn’t want to mislead her friend, so she told the truth. “It took time. It didn’t happen overnight.”
“But how?”
Katie leaned her head back again. “It was around Christmas one year. At the time I must have been about twenty, maybe twenty-one. I was getting out of class. The night was cold and dark, and snow was threatening. As I walked to the bus stop I saw a man spread-eagle on the lawn, passed out with an empty liquor bottle at his side. Someone had called campus security and a couple of officers were trying to rouse him. My bus arrived and I wasn’t able to follow what happened after I left. While I was on the bus I had the weirdest sensation that the drunk man could easily have been my father. I didn’t see his face clearly or recognize anything about him that would remind me of my dad. Right away I felt sad and this overwhelming sense of pity came over me. I pitied him. His was a life wasted.”
“So you went from hate to pity?” Coco took another long swallow of her soda.
“I don’t think I ever truly hated him. I was angry and hurt and as little as I was when he left, I felt responsible somehow. That doesn’t make sense, but in my line of work I see it all the time. Kids, no matter how young, blame themselves for what happens to their families. Even though this makes about as much sense as a kid thinking that not finishing his homework is the cause of global warming.”
Coco’s look grew intense and thoughtful. She went quiet for several seconds. “Some things can’t be forgiven though.”
“Not easily, that’s for sure. The thing I’ve learned—and trust me, I’m no expert—is that forgiveness isn’t a gift we give the offender. It’s something we do for ourselves.”
“That’s easy enough to say …”
“I know.” In the distance the Bremerton ferry dock came into view. In order to distract herself from the inevitable, Katie looked away. All this talk about forgiveness had brought to the surface her hopes, and in equal measure her fears. Just because she’d learned how to forgive, that didn’t mean that James had the will or the desire to lay the past to rest when it came to her.
“Do you feel it’s in you to forgive?” she asked, hoping to turn the questions around on Coco.
“What makes you ask that?”
“You know why …”
“Well, I guess all of us have fallen short now and then …”
“Amen,” Katie said with a halfhearted chuckle. “And just as easily we might have inadvertently hurt someone without even knowing what we’ve done.”
“That’s not true,” Coco darted back. “We know.”
Although she disagreed, Katie wasn’t going to argue.
This reunion would certainly prove to be interesting. Coco was outgoing and friendly, whereas Katie was much quieter, intense, and shy. Their differences were one reason why they were such good friends. They balanced each other.
Katie remembered the first day of school and how dreadful it’d been to start yet another high school, especially in her senior year. She’d been moved to the third foster home in twelve months. It wasn’t that she was a problem case or difficult to place—she’d never been in trouble in her other foster homes. Each move had been plain old bad luck. One set of foster parents had gotten a job transfer to another state. Then, with the second family, the wife had been diagnosed with cancer. Two major moves within a short amount of time. Her next family, the Flemmings, were wonderful, as far as foster parents went.
“It looks like we’re almost to Bremerton,” Coco said, as if eager to change the subject.
The ferry docked near the Bremerton shipyard, which could be seen in the distance. Several mothballed battleships and carriers lined the waterfront, along with a number of nuclear-powered submarines. The shipyard and navy base were a large part of the local economy, both in Bremerton and Cedar Cove.
Ralph Flemmings, her foster father, had worked as a nuclear engineer at the shipyard until his recent retirement. Soon afterward the Flemmings had sold their home in Cedar Cove, purchased a motor home, and traveled around the country. Every few weeks Katie got a postcard from a different part of the country. Ralph and Sue had taken to their new lives like a helium balloon to the sky, drifting in whatever direction the air took them. They were good people, and Katie would be forever grateful for their generosity toward her, especially that last year of high school.
I stood for a long time staring at the Realtor’s FOR SALE sign in front of Mark’s house. It shouldn’t have been this much of a surprise. Mark hadn’t misled me. He was doing exactly what he’d said he intended to do. He was moving away. And yet I was shocked.
I don’t know how long I stood in front of the house as a gnawing sensation attacked my gut. Like the liquid in a cauldron, it churned and brewed and swelled, and then all at once I was so angry I could barely contain myself. And at the same time I was unbearably sad. A profound sense of loss settled over me, that familiar pain I experienced in the first weeks after I’d gotten word that Paul was missing in action and presumed dead.
Rover sat on his haunches watching me as if he expected some sort of response on my end. I had none to give. The Realtor’s sign blurred before my eyes.