8 Sandpiper Way
Page 20

Troy frowned uncertainly.
“As I recall, you said it would be best if we no longer saw each other. That’s the way I remember it, so correct me if I misunderstood.”
“I did say that,” he agreed. “But at the time I didn’t have any idea how difficult that would be. I love you, Faith.”
“No, you don’t,” she said flatly, unwilling to fall under his spell yet again.
His head snapped back as if she’d struck him.
“If you loved me,” she continued in a cold voice, “you wouldn’t have been so quick to break my heart. You have a habit of doing that, Troy, and I’m through. This was the last time.” She picked up her knitting again, avoiding his eyes. “As for your dinner invitation—”
He didn’t allow her to finish. “I’ve missed you, Faith.”
She’d missed him, too, more than she wanted to admit, but that didn’t change what he’d said—that he could no longer see her. She recognized how concerned he was about his daughter, and she sympathized, especially now that she’d met Megan. She would’ve understood if he’d asked for her patience. Instead he’d cut her out of his life. Just like that. If she hadn’t pressured him, he wouldn’t even have given her a reason. Oh, no. She was done with Troy Davis.
“Not a day passes that I don’t think about you,” he murmured.
She refused to look at him.
“Whenever I drive past your house, I call myself every kind of fool.”
“I have a few other names I could add to your vocabulary.”
She hadn’t meant it as a joke, but he laughed.
“Yes, I suppose you could.”
Her hands tightened around the knitting needles.
“It’s taken me this long to find the courage to come to your door. It isn’t dinner I’m asking for, Faith. What I really want…is a second chance.”
She pinched her lips together. “Isn’t it a third chance?”
“Third?”
“You broke my heart when I was a teenager.”
“Oh, come on, Faith, not that again. You broke mine, too, and if you’re blaming me for that, then you’re way off base.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Your mother lied to me,” he reminded her.
“And you believed her! You didn’t even talk to me. You took her at her word and went about your merry way and met Sandy.”
“You met Carl and married him quickly enough.” Anger flared in his eyes.
There was no point in arguing. They were at a standstill, neither of them willing to budge.
“That was years ago,” Troy said after a tense moment. “As far as I’m concerned, it was unfortunate, but it happened. We both went on with our lives and found other people. You married a good man and I married a woman I loved. We both had families. Everything turned out the way it was meant to be.”
He made it all sound so reasonable. Troy didn’t know how many nights she’d cried herself to sleep back in college, wondering why he’d dumped her—why he’d been so cruel. Yes, she’d met and married Carl but getting over Troy hadn’t been easy. She’d genuinely loved him then—and she genuinely loved him now.
“Fate brought us back together,” he murmured.
“And then you blew it.”
“I did, and I apologize,” he said without hesitation.
At least he admitted that much.
“I assumed Megan wouldn’t accept another woman in my life,” he explained, “especially so soon after Sandy’s death.”
Faith was curious as to whether Megan had mentioned her. Since she’d kept her pregnancy a secret from her father and in-laws, Faith suspected she hadn’t said anything about their recent friendship, either.
“Megan’s my only child and I love her, but I have my own life.” He paused, then added in a soft, coaxing voice, “Right now my life feels very empty without you.”
Faith could feel herself weakening.
“Shall we try again?” Troy asked.
Despite her stubborn insistence that they were through, she wavered. He watched her, waiting, his expression hopeful. Faith forced herself to look away. “I need to think about it.” She paused. “Are you sure this time, Troy?”
“I’m sure.”
Faith wanted to trust him but was afraid to. She knew she couldn’t tolerate another rejection, another betrayal. “I’m not ready to make that decision yet,” she said.
For a fleeting moment Troy seemed disappointed. But his demeanor quickly changed, becoming more businesslike. “Fair enough.” He stared down at his hat as if carefully considering his next statement. “I’ll tell you what. Once you’ve made your decision, you let me know.”
“Fine.”
“I won’t trouble you again, Faith.” He stood, walking toward the front door. “No need to show me out.”
Nevertheless she got up and accompanied him.
Troy’s posture was stiff and straight. She knew he’d stand by his word; he wouldn’t contact her again.
The next move, if there was one, would have to come from her.
Fifteen
Justine Gunderson could hardly wait to see her mother. She called Olivia once or twice a day, but hadn’t been able to visit since Wednesday. She wanted to continue their ongoing conversation about her new restuarant, a conversation that brought great pleasure to them both. The Victorian Tea Room was now under construction and Olivia’s suggestions had made all the difference.
Her mother seemed to be recovering from the surgery well, with her chemotherapy scheduled to begin in early January. “What a way to start the new year!” she’d joked and they’d both laughed. After all, there wasn’t anything to do but laugh—laugh and endure.
Justine finished her Saturday-morning errands: the dry cleaners, then the library and finally the grocery store to buy powdered sugar for the gingerbread house she was making with Leif that afternoon. Throwing everything in the car, she hurried to her mother’s place on Lighthouse Road.
She parked in front of the house and bounded up the porch steps. After knocking once, loudly, she opened the door. “Mom? Jack?”
“In here,” her mother called from the bedroom.
Justine ventured down the hall. It was unusual for her mother to still be in bed on a Saturday morning. Justine knew the surgery and anesthetic had taken their toll on her energy, but despite that, she couldn’t help feeling a little shocked. Olivia was a lifelong early riser, and this was just so…uncharacteristic.
As she entered the darkened room, she found her mother sitting on the side of the bed.
“Could you hand me my housecoat?” she asked groggily.
Justine did. “Shall I open the drapes for you, Mom?”
“Please.”
As she let in the day’s weak light, she asked, “Where’s Jack?”
Olivia stared up at her. “Oh…He’s writing a sports piece on youth soccer in Kitsap County,” she explained. “This was the only time he could get the interview.” Her mother stood and tied the sash to her housecoat. “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute.” Blinking, she asked, “What time is it, anyway?”
“Ten-fifteen.”
Olivia rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe I slept this late.”
“You obviously needed it. Shall I make us a pot of tea?”
Yawning, Olivia nodded. “Thank you, dear.”
Justine loved this old house, especially the kitchen. She knew it as well as she did her own. She moved confidently from stove to cupboard, putting on water to boil, setting out her favorite white ceramic teapot, choosing peppermint tea bags. She figured it was better for both of them at this point than the strong Irish Breakfast they tended to prefer.
“Is Leif at home?” her mother asked, joining her ten minutes later.
“He’s visiting his other grandparents with his daddy.” Justine had already set two cups and saucers on the kitchen table. She poured the hot tea, breathing in the fresh, minty aroma, as Olivia settled in her chair. She was still in her flannel pajamas with their snowflake pattern and her red fleece housecoat, a get-well gift from Grace Harding.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Justine,” her mother said, smiling over at her.
“You, too, Mom. I meant to stop by yesterday afternoon, but—”
“No, no, I didn’t mean to imply that you should’ve been here. We talk every day.”
Her relationship with her mother was on solid ground. It hadn’t always been, and Justine didn’t want to do anything to impede the progress they’d made since she married Seth.
“You’re feeling well?” her mother asked, looking pointedly at Justine’s stomach.
“Fabulous. A hundred years ago, I probably would’ve been one of those women who gave birth every year or two. I’m perfectly healthy and I love being pregnant.”
Her mother smiled. “I loved it, too. With you and your brother…” She hesitated as she sometimes did when referring to Jordan. Pain shadowed her eyes for a moment, but if she hadn’t known her mother so well, Justine might have missed it. She felt that sense of loss, too. Loss for the twin brother who’d died the summer they were thirteen.
“Do you think I might have twins?” Justine asked. She and Seth had been wondering about it; she supposed the coming ultrasound would give them a definite answer.
“They do run in the family.” Her mother smiled again, clearly pleased by the thought.
“Grandmother had twin brothers, right?”
Olivia nodded. Her two grand-uncles were both gone now, but Charlotte had an album full of pictures.
“Justine, do you feel as if you’re carrying twins?”
“Oh, heavens, I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “Anyway, Mom, I wanted to tell you what’s happening at the Tea Room.”
Her mother sat up straighter. “Okay, fill me in.”
“Well, I’ve decided to paint the outside a lovely shade of pink.”
“Pink,” Olivia repeated. “Pink,” she said again, frowning as though she hadn’t heard correctly.
Justine grinned at her mother’s expression. “Your reaction is the same as Seth’s when I told him.” He hadn’t tried to dissuade her but she could tell he found her choice odd. Justine was very sure about the color, though. She’d gone over every detail at least a dozen times.
She was at the site every day, discussing the project with her builder. So many decisions had to be made daily that it was prudent and sensible to check in with the construction crew. After every visit she felt more excited about the new restaurant and what it would mean to the Cedar Cove community, especially the women. They’d adore going out to lunch. It would be a special place to meet that catered to them specifically.
“The Tea Room’s going to be a destination restaurant,” she said proudly.
“It’ll be pink as a flamingo,” her mother teased, “which should make it easy to find.”