Chapter 4
Four
The very next afternoon, Chip began his fact-finding mission on Ally. The majority of his day had already been spent trying to untangle a particularly complex algorithm at home.
Now, the low sun exuded its orange glow across Harlow’s Main Street, the surrounding smell of dry earth and summer grass rising up to reward his hard-fought victory in escaping his work.
That smell. This street’s century-old stores. The lack of foot traffic. Every contrasting detail to Boston pulled at his childhood memories of Harlow.
There’d been skipping down this brickwork sidewalk. The regular pursuit of candy at Frank and Maureen Cooper’s general store. And of course, Ally always at Chip’s side.
Though a few unfamiliar shops now lined the strip, one thing that hadn’t changed was the late afternoon closures. As always, Harlow lived and worked at its own pace. No twenty-four-hour convenience stores. And forget about buying anything on a Sunday.
Not that he’d left his house for the shopping, anyway.
“Chip?”
Bingo. That bright, feminine lilt, and her tone twisting his name upward into a question. Ally’s voice was already imprinted on his memory. He didn’t need to redirect his gaze off the storefront to his side to know who spoke.
Though she wore a frown and pulled the doors to Oak Tree Furniture closed behind her, he leveled a smile and waved, the jovial ting of the door’s bell conspiring right along with him.
“Hey, Ally.” He played casual and strolled closer, a light sensation working through his muscles at the chance to speak her name. To the woman herself. After so many years.
Her open surprise faded, and a slow smile spread over her face. Like she was genuinely glad to see him. Good. Very good . Especially now he stood close enough to indulge in the faint scent of candy and sunshine floating off her skin, her perfume matching her look and energy. Delightful. Sweet. As did her silver blue eyes shining up at him.
Like new cut crystal.
“Ten years of nothing, and now two run-ins in as many days.” Her smile weakened, and she narrowed her eyes. “That’s some strange karma, dontcha think?”
“I was bound to return eventually.” He brightened his expression to balance hers.
“You were?” Her lips turned flat and disbelieving, like she’d never once believed he’d come back to this town, only for the naturally mischievous glimmer to return to her eyes.
His hands ached to reach out and hug her, just as they’d done yesterday, his palms recalling the sumptuous heat of her body and the firmness of her narrow frame. But the shine had dimmed from that introduction, and her gaze held more questions today. More doubt.
Not that he blamed her. He had doubts and questions too.
He ran his attention over her again, her hair so much shorter these days, her scraggly long locks exchanged for a sharp do that skimmed her chin—a carefree look that suited what he recalled of her personality. But the color. The color shone the same, not much different to the platinum hue of sunbeams breaking through cloud.
A little shocked at that observation, as well as his desire to reach out and sweep a wayward lock from her cheek, he shifted back, saving them both from an awkward moment.
Still, her gaze flitted about his face too. A sign that she sensed the weight in his pause, her sudden turn down the sidewalk confirming his theory. “What brings you to Main Street, anyway?”
“Just wanted to visit the old stomping ground.” He fell in stride with her. “I definitely didn’t come here hoping to see you.”
Despite his frolic with sarcastic flirting, his better judgement told him to remember Sarah’s warning. Clingy and flighty. What had she meant by that?
Ally glanced at him, a child-like excitement rising in her eyes again, the equally jubilant long flow of her rainbow-colored skirt fluttering in her wake. “Really, you came to see me ?”
“I figured you might let me walk you home while we got reacquainted.” He took in more details. Her hot-pink tank top under a sunset pink cardigan. The woman sure wore a lot of pink, although she wore it well. And the turquoise bangles clanging at her wrists said more about how quirky femininity had replaced the ragtag fashion of her girlhood. “Sarah mentioned you usually close for Blaine around now.”
Ally flinched at Sarah’s name, seeming to confirm the rift.
“I, ah… well…” She halted her stride, and so he did too, her focus on him erratic. “I actually drove today.”
Despite the rebuff, she held a new stillness, and a moment passed where they seemed to ponder each other.
“That’ll teach me to make assumptions.” His focus snagged on her cupid’s bow, her upper lip sitting slight fuller than her lower, followed by the pronounced set of her pout. One he now suddenly recognized as part of her “confused” look.
That look harked back to their classroom days, forever his cue to step in and help her. So just like back then, he helped her now, allowing a tension-breaking smile to run full-reign over his face.
Her head tilting back, she let out a shaky laugh. “I mean, I guess I didn’t drive when you last knew me. Maybe your brain needs a minute to disconnect from the past.”
An inescapable lightness filled him and overrode his need to harness his enthusiasm. “No. No, you didn’t. In my mind, we’re still gangly pre-teens stomping in muddy ditches and trying to soak each other on the walk home from school.”
Her laugh cut through clearer now. “All while Sarah outpaced us by about a mile up ahead.”
“Ditch stomping does eat up a bunch of time.” He shrugged, recalling the sensation of cold, damp clothes against his skin, neither set of parents happy for the extra laundry. “And you’d always start it, remember?”
She laughed again, joy seeming to backlight the blue of her eyes. “Hell yes, and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Remember those summer afternoons when Sarah would be too busy with her tennis practice? We’d take a forbidden detour to the river instead?”
“Yet another thing you almost always started.” He laughed, forcing his attention on her face, because his heart’s increased beat pushed him to do more than stand here and talk.
“Got you away from your books, didn’t I? Without me, you wouldn’t have any fun childhood memories.” Her focus left him, and he followed her line of sight to a small, electric blue car, the eccentric hue a big hint the vehicle was hers.
“Yah know what?” Her gaze flicked back to him, and she tugged the strap of her huge, patchwork shoulder bag higher. “This is too much fun. Let’s walk, after all.”
His jaw wavered a beat while he scrambled to recalibrate in the wake of her surprise change in plans. “W… what about your car?”
Shut up, dude. You wanted this, remember?
“I’ll get my car in the morning.” She tilted her head sideways in a gesture for him to follow. Not wanting any regrets, he did so without any further protest. “I need to walk more, anyway.”
So they fell into step, arm in arm, like old times yet somehow, not at all like then.
But just like then, he reached out, took her bag off her shoulder, and slung it over his. “This thing’s heavy. What do you keep in here?”
“Never question a woman on the contents of her purse.” She turned to him, her brow raised. “Besides if I told you, I’d have to break your legs.”
He noted the spring in her step and the defiant lift of her chin, actions denoting lighthearted strength. “I’d like to see you try, but maybe you could first fill me in on what you’ve been doing for the last ten years?”
Her lips parted as if ready to speak, only for her to press them together and pause. Soon, she turned her attention to the road ahead. “Just a typical Harlow existence, I guess. I did a short general art course over in Marston after high school, then floundered with not much to do for a while before Blaine offered me work at Oak Tree.”
“You took an art course?” Of course, she’d be an artist. But then… “So, why are you working at Oak Tree?”
“Oak Tree pays my bills. Art… well, I guess it’s cheap therapy.” She gave a quick shrug and kicked at the rocky track below her bright red and purple flat shoes, the rocks making a light skittering sound. “Anyway, what about you? I hear you’re a hotshot software developer now?”
She lifted her gaze, her question, along with her new focus on him, indicated reluctance to talk about her stuff.
She’s not happy.
“People round here keep saying that.” He gave a tight chuckle and glanced to the open field to Ally’s right, black and white Holstein cows grazing farther away. A very Harlow scene. “But much to my dad’s disapproval, I’ve foregone a well-paying job to work on my own project.”
“Oh, he must be pissed.” Her eyes lit up again, like she remembered his dad—more precisely, his overbearing nature. “You said something at the game about being here for work.”
“Yep, but use that term loosely because I’m making literally no money right now.” Though he forced a light expression, he pushed his hands into his pockets and pulled his attention from her. Even being a “poor artist,” she had a job and, therefore, more than him. “Since Sarah moved in with Dean, I figured I’d make use of having a house all to myself. It’s free on space and rent.”
She gave a light chuckle. “Boston not quite enough for yah?”
Her Minnesotan accent prompted a new smile, his accent having mostly faded some time ago. “I still live with Dad. Let’s just say, things are never easy there.”
“Ahuh” She peered over at him, another hesitant pause before speaking again. “He still with that woman?”
“If by that woman, you mean, the woman he left my mom for, then yes. He’s still with Kelly.”
Focusing on the summer breeze whooshing in his ears, he hoped for an end to any more talk on Kelly. Though he’d never held much against her, her emergence had broken his already dysfunctional family and left his relationship with his dad splintered.
Now, all three merely tolerated each other and only because Chip needed his dad’s money to survive. Meanwhile, his dad had an unyielding drive to see Chip prove something to the world. Though never once had Chip gotten the impression anything he did, or might achieve, would be enough.
So of course, he wanted to end this shallow alliance as quickly as possible. Preferably in exchange for Stonewall’s success.
If that didn’t happen, then he’d have little choice but to yield to his dad’s vision. To sacrifice his aspirations in return for a secure job, wheeling and dealing to climb corporate ladders, making other people’s ideas and dreams come true.
“How long are you Harlow?” Though she stared at the ground, the previous silence hinted that she cared about his answer.
Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.
He squinted at the sun, soaking in the landscape once more and drawing out his reply, perhaps on the off chance his hunch about her affection might be right.
“It’s hard to say. I have no hurry to return to Boston, although I’ve applied for a few funding programs. So if something happens with those, I might need to go back.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, her expression dimmed at the hint he might not be in town for long, although that too could have been his wishful thinking. At least, the low churn in his stomach said as much.
Even if his future could never be so far from a major city, leaving Harlow again would undoubtedly hurt.
“Knowing you, Chip”—her smile returned, though a little twisted and forced—“you’ll get that funding, and there’s gonna come a day when a whole bunch of people will fall over themselves to throw money your way.”
He let out a laugh, and she joined him, hers milder with a slight bend.
“Ally, are you okay?” He stopped walking and waited for her to do the same.
Her attention lifted to him, one corner of her lip ticked upward while she swatted a hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. “Just that I seem to be a dying breed in these parts.”
Hoping to soften the mood, he gave a light chuckle. “You look far from dying.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Most people our age have moved away or gotten married. Sometimes I have visions of being the last person in Harlow altogether.”
Moved away or gotten married?
Did that explain Sarah’s comment last night about “Little Ally Egan’s wedding dreams”? As in, marriage was Ally’s ultimate goal? Even her means of escaping Harlow? Or at least, joining the status quo with the other younger people around here?
Either way, maybe the outcome of his mission to learn more about her was that he wasn’t on the same page as her. Though not totally opposed to settling down, he had no plans of doing so in Harlow. And then there was the matter of establishing his career ahead of any personal commitments. So maybe, when it came to Ally Egan, keeping a safe distance would be his only choice.