Chapter Twelve
Miles
It was dark out. Darker than the inside of my pocket as Sam liked to say.
“Dammit, Casper.” Miles scanned the road as the Mail Jeep crawled ahead at fifteen miles per hour, its bright headlights illuminating the pine-lined roadway. A white dog should stand out in his high beams.
Miles rolled his eyes. Another rom-com. Perhaps he should reconsider seeking advice from two former child actors who had left normal lives in their rearview mirrors during middle school.
Their rom-com tips hadn’t worked so far.
Avery still referred to Miles as a friend.
For a guy who kept people firmly in the friend zone, Miles should know how to wriggle his way out of it without a rom-com’s help.
“Yes, I’ve seen it.” He stopped and pointed a flashlight into the woods. “But I don’t see the correlation. I don’t dance and haven’t held onto her beloved childhood dollhouse all these years. I met Avery when she was nineteen, not thirteen. I don’t know if she had a dollhouse.”
Anna Catherine let out an exaggerated stage groan.
“First, didn’t you learn about symbolism in that fancy college? The dollhouse signifies Matty never forgot Jenna. Show Avery you never gave up on her.” Anna said. “And second, we need to fix this whole ‘I don’t dance’ thing. You gotta let loose a little.”
He admitted Anna had a point and before ending the call, promised to give it some thought. Convincing Avery he had never forgotten her would be so much easier with a tangible item like a dollhouse. Words were more challenging, and his only option.
He paused just inside Montressa’s driveway, removed his AirPods, cut his engine in case the dog barked, and shined his flashlight where Paulson had found Casper before filling Avery’s head with ideas about dreamy top-shelf hotel bars. In Miles opinion, he’d picked the wrong one for Avery.
“Casper! Casper!” Avery’s voice echoed from farther up Montressa’s driveway.
Miles started the Mail Jeep and drove on, gravel crunching under his tires. A few seconds later, he pulled up beside Avery, leaned over, and slid open the passenger door.
“Get in,” he said.
Avery slumped into her seat, the scent of her shampoo filling the Jeep. What flower was that? Something southern and delicate.
“Sorry to text you so late and thank you for coming. I couldn’t find anyone in the staff dorm.
I guess they’re all asleep. And Nate is at Lily’s.
I left Casper in the lodge after dinner while I watched a movie and grabbed a shower,” she moaned.
“We do it every night. When I went to let him out at bedtime, the front door was open, and he was gone. I’ve been searching for a while. I even brought hotdogs. His favorite.”
The last thing that dog deserved was a hotdog, but Miles kept his opinions to himself.
They drove up the driveway, calling for Casper. Nothing.
“Let’s take the other fork where the driveway splits and check the Cooper compound,” he suggested.
Past where the Montressa property ended, the Coopers owned three winterized houses that reminded Miles of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
Sam and Laurie lived in the big house. Beyond it was a little guest cabin.
Nate had recently purchased the medium-sized house from his parents.
It sat directly across the cove from the Red House but needed some updating to become just right.
For now, Nate and Lily lived in Lily’s apartment, close to the high school.
Miles parked the car outside Sam’s house and pulled a flashlight out of a milk crate behind the seats.
“Come on, let’s check every door,” he said as they got out.
She called for Casper a few times. Nothing.
“Dammit, Casper,” Avery muttered.
“He’ll be back,” Miles said. “I’m sure he has a plan.”
Miles wasn’t sure Casper would be back, but Avery needed reassurance. If Casper had a plan, it was to ruin quiet moments, like the ones everyone had been enjoying earlier in the night.
“I thought I had a plan,” she said. “Get an MBA. Be ready for any career. But my first semester classes will be everything I hated doing at the Peppered Page. I knew this going in, but now that it’s real, I’m second-guessing myself.
If I’m honest, an MBA was the simplest answer to the question, ‘what’s next? ’ after I sold my business—”
“For a lot of money,” Miles added, trying to give her the credit she deserved, which he had not done that first day on the dock.
She swept her flashlight’s beam along the tree line at the edge of the property.
“Thank you, but sometimes I feel like when I hit my professional peak, my personal life fell apart,” she said.
“I put my parents through a lot when I canceled my wedding. I don’t want them to have to worry about me anymore, but I also don’t want to make a mistake.
Dad suggested an MBA, and he made it sound so sensible. ”
That first day on the dock she’d been so sure of herself, but maybe she’d been afraid to be vulnerable. It was funny how Avery could be so attuned to what others needed, but out of sync with herself. Miles desperately wanted her to recognize her own value and feel good about her accomplishments.
“Tell me what to do.” She pressed her hands together, begging him.
“I was living on nothing and putting all my money back into the Peppered Page. Before I sold it, I only had two hundred dollars in my checking account. These big checks arrived, and everyone suggested, ‘invest in yourself,’ which sounded like code for ‘do something more impressive.’ You sold CashCache and started your camp. You keep outdoing yourself. Tell me what to do next.”
Miles pressed his lips into a thin line and spun to face her. It hadn’t been easy, but he could see how it appeared seamless. He hated seeing her lose trust in herself, but he wouldn’t tell her what to do. Listening to other people had brought her to this point.
“I can’t do that,” he said. “You’re the one who has to live your life. Whatever you do next, don’t let someone else pick it for you. Deep down, you know what makes you happy and energizes you. That’s where you’ll find your answer. Envision the life you want and make that happen.”
Avery stood silently, lit by the automatic flood lights that illuminated the back of the house, her gaze elsewhere, as if something were clicking inside that gorgeous head.
She studied him and parted her lips. He wanted to kiss her to make it all better.
But she hadn’t asked for that. He headed to the unlit side yard, shining his flashlight from side to side.
“I didn’t mean to unload on you,” she said, trailing behind. “But Casper taking off like this… Everything feels so out of control. I need a friend.”
“I’m here.” Miles nodded, the word friend sinking like a rock from his heart to his stomach. He flashed his light in the crawl space under the side stoop. “Tell me what got you thinking like this.”
“I was watching 13 Going on 30, and it made me assess every choice I’ve ever made.” She lifted a hand to her heart. “The end made me sad.”
He made a mental note to thank Anna Catherine later.
“The dollhouse?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
“Yeah.” He could make out her shoulder shrug in the dim light. “That’s my favorite part.”
He wished he could think of something like that dollhouse. Something that would magically answer all of her questions from the last decade. Something he could hand her so she’d know they still belonged together. Despite what Anna Catherine and Hayes said, life was nothing like the movies.
“Nate constantly says he has always loved Lily. Which is amazing.” Avery followed him to the water-facing side of the house. “No one says that about me.”
“Nate hasn’t loved Lily all his life.” Miles flashed the light into Casper’s doghouse. “He’s loved her since he met her. That’s possible for anyone, at any age. Trust me. You haven’t met everyone who is going to love you.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Her voice cracked. “But I’m a jilted bride, and it’s coming.”
“What’s coming?” The light next to the door cast a multitude of shadows on the Cooper’s long porch. Miles shined the flashlight under the rattan furniture.
“Thirty and then thirty-five,” she said. “All my friends are in serious, long-term relationships, and I can’t seem to find one that lasts. I don’t want to be cast off more times than your favorite fishing rod.”
He stared at the long, dark lawn in front of him and thought about bringing up Trent to deflect blame from himself, but Avery was at glass half empty. The goal was to fill her cup. She waited for an answer, lit by the glow of the porch.
“You’ll be thirty next September. That’s over a year away.
” He ducked his gaze into her line of sight, waiting for her to connect.
“And I’m already in my thirties. It’s not so bad.
Look, we all feel lost sometimes. But you don’t peak once.
Life is a mountain range, full of peaks.
Peaks have valleys. You’re in one. You’ll get out. ”
She smiled hopefully and her teeth chattered. They’d been so distracted, he hadn’t noticed her wet hair and thin T-shirt. A bra strap peeked out below the shirt’s loose collar.
“I want what they have,” she said. “Somebody. Someday. What am I doing wrong?”
Miles wanted nothing more than to be that somebody, but he knew not to jump too far ahead. So he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She shivered into its warmth as her arms ran through the sleeves. He zipped it up and rubbed her shoulders.
“Avery, I’m no expert, but I think you try to rush things. Relationships aren’t something you check off a list. They’re something you grow. Isn’t that the advice you gave me? Go on one date, then two, and then one day you’ve gone on so many with the same person, you’ve lost count.”
Miles took a small step toward her and opened his arms. “Come here,” he smiled. “I don’t know the dance routine they do in the movie, but you’re freezing and I give warm hugs.”