Chapter 21
21
H ope had never been a big believer in working outside, particularly in gardens. Too much dirt, too much work, too much… But spending time with Mimi, watching her dig in her backyard gardens, had changed her thoughts on that. When Hope spent time in the garden, planting impatiens and scattering zinnia and cosmos seeds, it calmed her, and that’s exactly what she needed.
It had been six days since her visit to Pop Benito and the phone call from Harry Blacksworth telling him Edgar Harrington had been rushed to the hospital. She’d prayed for the man and his family, and prayer did not come easily to her. While Mimi had insisted what happened with Edgar was not Hope’s fault, she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she may have contributed to it.
There have been a few remarks about anxiety and panic attacks causing Edgar to pass out, Mimi had said. Maybe, maybe not. I haven’t been able to substantiate the information. No one knows for certain and Edgar isn’t talking. My guess is low blood sugar was the likely culprit . That man’s been living on the edge of poor health for a long time, and his wife might think she’s got control of his eating and lifestyle choices, but he’s fooling everyone, especially himself.
But Mimi’s words couldn’t relieve the guilt Hope felt that somehow, she’d contributed to the man’s incident. That guilt haunted her until the afternoon she received a call from Edgar Harrington. Hope had just finished watering the zinnia seeds and was about to start on the petunias when her cell phone rang.
“Hope? This is Edgar Harrington. Do you have a minute?”
“Yes, Dr. Harrington. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Foolish.” A pause, a deep sigh. “Have you ever heard the expression about how someone just cannot get out of his own way and creates his own problems?”
“I have.” She clutched her cell phone, waited for him to say more.
“I know there are a lot of stories going around town about what happened and the cause of it. I want you to hear it straight from me and more importantly, to let you know you had nothing to do with it. I passed out because of my own foolishness.” Another sigh, an almost laugh. “When you’ve been married as long as I have, you don’t want to hear what you should and shouldn’t do, and sometimes you do just the opposite. It’s not that your partner doesn’t have your best interests in mind, it’s just that darn it, you do not want to do it. You think, ‘Why can’t I still eat a double cheeseburger, a side of fries, and an ice cream sundae without heartburn, high blood sugar, or weight gain?’ That’s what happened to me. I cheated the rules, and I ignored my wife and her never-ending suggestions on my food choices. On that particular day, I planned to head to the diner for the cheeseburger, fries, and the ice cream sundae, but my wife’s voice wouldn’t stop chattering in my ear. So, what did I do?” A soft laugh, followed by a defeated “I skipped breakfast, and then I got busy, and it was almost one thirty in the afternoon. I remember checking my watch right before I went down. That’s why I passed out and landed in the ER.”
That might be true and the man might be trying to make her feel better, but what about the whispers linked to panic and anxiety? Would he mention those? “I appreciate the call, but there’s a part of me that feels responsible.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because…because…”
“Ah, so you’ve heard the talk about anxiety and panic attacks.”
No sense denying it. “Yes. And if they occurred, I know I’m responsible for that, and I am so sorry Dr.—”
“Hope, stop. You are not responsible for anything that happened to me. I’m in charge of myself and how I deal with the situations in my life. I’m the sort of person who buries everything and doesn’t think it’s necessary to talk about things like feelings or fear or worry, and if you keep it all bottled up, it’s got to go somewhere. It’s not because of anybody trying to force me out, or the issues I had with Sam, or even hiding my food from my wife. The attack or whatever had to do with how I handled the situations. The doctor said it might’ve been that, he can’t tell, but he was more inclined to think it had mostly to do with the low blood sugar.”
“I appreciate you sharing this.”
“I didn’t want you carrying extra baggage that wasn’t yours to carry.” Pause and a quiet, “I’m sorry for how things turned out between you and my son.”
“Thank you.” What else could she say? I wish we could have gotten past this? I wish we could have found a future together? I wish ? —
“You’re good for him. He was happy and my wife and I saw that. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he’s more stubborn than I am and that’s not a good thing.”
“He’s been very clear about not wanting to have anything to do with me, and I have to respect that. Anyway, I’ll be leaving soon, and then he won’t have to worry about running into me or avoiding me.”
Silence stretched on the other end of the line, made Hope wonder if Sam’s father had heard her. And then he spoke.
“You’re leaving already? When?”
There was no denying the concern or the emotion in his voice. “A few days.”
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” He cleared his throat. “Can’t you try one more time?”
“If I thought there was even a tiny chance that Sam would reconsider things between us, I would wait for him, and I’ve never waited for anyone in my life.” She stared at a Gerbera daisy, homed in on the yellow center. “But waiting isn’t going to change anything, and it’s time for me to leave. Things might not have worked out the way I’d hoped, but I’ve learned a lot about myself, and I finally realize who I am and what I will and won’t accept…” The yellow center of the Gerbera daisy turned brighter. “One day I’ll find where I belong…”
“What about your job?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet, at least not one hundred percent. I resigned, but Martin can be quite persistent. He’s asked me to stay on as a consultant, told me I could do it anywhere…in the mountains…at the ocean…” She forced a laugh and tried to pretend nonchalance. “Who knows where I’ll end up?”
“Joyce and I hoped it would be in Magdalena.”
A surge of regret and pain shot through her, but she would not give in to it. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”
“You deserve someone who appreciates how special you are. I’m just sorry my son wasn’t that person.”
Sam had been about to take his afternoon break, when the front desk buzzed him. “Dr. Harrington, there’s a gentleman to see you. He said it’s urgent.”
“Who is it? And what’s going on?”
Pause and a hesitant, “His name is Martin Southerfield. He said it has to do with the project Hope Newland was working on.”
The way she stumbled over Hope’s name said she knew all about Hope, including the fact that they were no longer seeing each other. Why would Hope’s boss be here and what could he possibly have to say? No idea, but Sam had a few things to say to him, beginning and ending with How dare you try to destroy our town. “Show him in.”
Sam dragged a hand through his hair, blew out a sigh. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone? All he wanted to do was concentrate on expanding the practice, making sure his dad was okay and not too stressed, and renovating the farmhouse… And working on the plans for future add-ons such as a pet sanctuary, a rehab and therapy center, more outbuildings, and whatever else made sense down the road. He did not want to talk about her or how sorry she was or how he had to forgive her for what might have been or?—
The door to his office opened and a middle-aged man entered. Medium build, gray hair, glasses, expensive suit. “Hello, Sam. Martin Southerfield. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Sam stood because politeness dictated he do so, but he did not extend a hand. “And I’ve heard about you.” He gestured to the seat on the opposite side of his desk. “Have a seat.” Sam eased into his own chair, placed both hands on the desk, and stared at the man. “I’m not sure why you’ve come, unless it’s to offer an apology for causing my dad undo stress—the kind that landed him in the hospital.”
An expression of what looked like pain crossed the man’s face, and when he spoke there was regret in his voice. “I’m very sorry about your father. I never intended to cause anyone harm.”
“No one ever intends to cause harm, but it happens anyway, doesn’t it?” Hope hadn’t intended to cause him harm, and yet she’d gouged his soul and ripped it to shreds in a way no woman had ever done before, not even his ex-wife.
“I deserved that. I’m truly sorry for all that’s happened and I want to give you my personal assurances that we won’t touch this town in any way—not the bed-and-breakfast, not your father’s place, not one thing.” He cleared his throat, continued, “Magdalena is special, and should be honored, duplicated, if possible, but never infringed upon by anyone or anything that would change it.”
“Thank you, however, it wasn’t necessary to make a trip to relay the message. A phone call would have sufficed.”
“It was necessary. I owed that much to you and your family—” he paused, his blue eyes turning bright behind his glasses “—and I also owed it to Hope. I’m not sure if you know or not, but she resigned. I couldn’t talk her out of it, and if I had to lose her, I wanted to see the town and the man I lost her to…”
Sam tried to ignore the ache in his chest, kept his gaze fixed on Martin’s, and spit out the truth. “I’m not part of that equation. If she resigned, it has nothing to do with me.”
“You’re quite wrong about that. You’re the reason she left, I’m sure of it, even though she would never admit it. This town is equally responsible, though she may never tell me that.” His voice turned hoarse, cracked. “Hope’s like a daughter to me, and I always looked out for her… Until this time. She begged me to stop pushing, and she was shocked when I told her I planned to consider Kent’s proposal regarding the Heart Sent. I don’t know why I did it, and I wish I hadn’t.” He shook his head, rubbed his right temple. “Kent is my nephew, and he can be very persuasive, but he loses sight of what’s important, and his values are sometimes skewed. I should have seen that…should have taken the time… I should have trusted Hope, and I didn’t. That error in judgment might have cost me our relationship.”
Hope had told him how much Martin meant to her and it was obvious he cared about her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
A tiny nod, a frown, and then, “She was excellent at her job, and I thought that’s what she wanted. I guess I thought maybe that was all she wanted after she broke things off with my nephew. It wasn’t her fault. It was his and—” another head shake, more frowning “—he stole her ability to trust and I didn’t know when or if she’d ever open up again. And then she started talking about you. I heard it in her voice, in the words she spoke, even though she never straight-up admitted to having feelings for you. It was there, pulsing between us. I should have realized she was not going to stay with the company and live that life… Should have seen she wanted to be here with you, helping build your practice and sharing in your dream, because the more she talked about what you planned to do… I could see she wanted that dream, too.”
Martin cleared his throat, but his voice still spilled a ton of regret. “I hurt her and I hurt you, and I cannot be responsible for destroying your chance to be together. You see, from where I’m sitting you two love each other but you’re not sure if you can ever trust her again or if you want to… You should. She’s a good person. She loves you and has given you her heart and Hope has never really done that before.”
Hope loved him? Sam stared at the man, tried to keep his emotions inside. She wanted a life with him? Wanted to share his dreams because they had become her dreams? “And how do you know all of this? Did she tell you?”
“No, she hasn’t spoken to me since she resigned, but as I told you, she’s like a daughter to me, and a father always knows. Please, go to her if you think there’s even a chance you still love her and want a life with her. She’ll shut down and then you’ll never reach her again. Don’t let that happen.”
Martin Southerfield wasn’t the only person who had an opinion regarding Sam and Hope, one that included forgiveness and meant-to-be. Later that week, Sam was making notes for the pet sanctuary project and enjoying a turkey Reuben smothered with sauerkraut and thousand island dressing when Lily Desantro made her way to the back of Lina’s Café and set a grocery bag on the table. “Hi, Sam. How are you?”
“Hey, Lily, what are you up to these days?” He smiled at her, pointed to the seat across from him. “Care to join me? The fries are extra crispy today.” Lily had selected a few favorite customers to chat with and often wriggled a meal from them. Of course, she always offered to pay, but who was going to let her do that? She was one clever girl. And?—
The double head shake made her black hair bounce. “No, thank you. I’m not interested in eating.”
Was that a scowl on Lily’s face? “What’s wrong? You don’t seem like your normal cheery self.” Had he ever seen Lily unhappy? No, he didn’t think so.
“What’s wrong?” Her bottom lip quivered, her voice cracked. “She’s going to leave, and if you don’t do something about it, you’ll never see her again. Please, Sam. You have to stop her.”
She was talking about Hope. It had been two days since Martin Southerfield visited him with an apology and a plea to give Hope another chance. Add that to Pete’s comments and his mother and father telling him he better think about what he wanted his future to look like, and he might just have to get past his anger to get there—and Sam still couldn’t decide if he was willing to risk another gouge to his heart. How the hell was he supposed to figure it out? How the?—
“Sam. Listen to me. You love her. You need to tell her.” Lily reached into the bag, pulled out a bouquet of red roses. “Here. These will help. Red roses mean love…in case you didn’t know.” She raised a brow, the scowl deepening. And darn if she didn’t put a fist on her waist as though she were waiting for his response.
“It’s not that easy, Lily. This is adult stuff, and…”
“Right. This is adult stuff and I’m an adult, and I’m wondering why you’re not acting like one right now.” Her eyes grew wide and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I should not have said that.” Her bottom lip quivered again, and she sniffed. “You can’t let her go, Sam. Hope loves you more than anything, and I am so sad right now because I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself.”
Sam pushed his plate aside, motioned for Lily to sit. “Can I talk to you?” A nod as she slid into the booth, folded her hands in her lap. “I know you’re trying to help and you want to see everyone happy. But sometimes things happen that pull people apart…and there’s no way to fix it.”
“I don’t believe that.” Those blue eyes shimmered with tears. “And you can’t believe that either. You just can’t.”