Chapter 10 #2
My goal is to keep moving with a quick hi, but Danni leaps in front of us like a line blocker, thwarting any movement forward, so that I either I have to dodge her or stop, like a normal, polite person, acknowledge her presence, and make small talk.
“Hi, Wren! I was just on my way to your cottage and discovered this big obstacle here. We’ll get it taken care of by the end of the day, hopefully, so you don’t have to climb over it.”
My smile feels tight and probably looks forced.
“Also, I was going to pop over to your cottage and ask if I could measure your back porch.” She pulls out her phone and shows me a photo of two adorable rocking chairs and a loveseat.
“Somebody brought it into Seventh Heaven, and Skye’s holding it for me.
Because your cottage is smaller, I thought it would be nice for you to have a place to sit in the front and in the back, depending on the time of day.
I’m sorry we didn’t have much on the back porch before.
The furniture we had was dilapidated, so we had to get rid of it. What do you think?”
“It’s nice. But please don’t feel like you have to get anything for me.”
“That’s okay. It’s a long-term investment in this cottage that you can enjoy now.
” She smiles. “It should hold up in the weather. We all tried out the chairs and loveseat to make sure they’re comfortable, so I hope you’ll like them.
If not, we’ll find something else.” She bends down and scratches Monster.
He plops on his haunches and pants happily, his tail flipflopping back and forth on the sand.
“You’re a sweet little Monster,” Danni croons. She stands and points at my sketchbook sticking out of my satchel. “You draw?”
“Very, very casually.” I flip through the sketchbook and show her the sketch I did a few days ago of two oak trees melded together. “This was over by the fence.” I wave a hand toward the path. “Are these yours and your husband’s initials? D.H. and H.M.”
She takes the notebook from me, smiling.
“It’s a long story, but yes. My friend, Cassie, and I called that double-trunk oak The Twins.
” Her finger lightly traces the heart around the initials on one of the trunks.
“Sounds crazy, but I don’t remember carving this, even though I did.
I was in a car accident, had amnesia, and lost a few years, including my memories of Bear and the first time we fell in love.
I returned to Heaven eleven years after the accident, running from a big mistake of a wedding that didn’t happen.
” She stares down at the sketchbook, absentmindedly rubbing at a scar on her neck.
“It was a mess. Hurricane Edna was biting my butt the last half of the trip. And…” She smiles.
“Long story short, Bear and I had our second chance.” She slides a finger to the second set of initials on the same tree.
“These are more recent.” She hands me back the sketchpad.
I can feel her eyes on me while I stuff the sketchpad back in my satchel. When I look up, her head’s cocked. “This is a great place to start over.”
I puff out a tired sigh. She’s looking at me with such compassion on her face that I know she knows at least something about me.
“Ned told you?”
“GrandNed knows who you are?” She shakes her head in disbelief.
“No, he didn’t tell me! I thought I recognized you last time when I brought you the produce basket, and then when Emma and I were setting up for my book signing at Book Bliss, Reagan, the owner of Book Bliss, had a table of Cain’s thrillers out.
It all came back to me then. You and I met years ago at a publisher party in New York.
You were at a table waiting for Cain. You were wearing a stunning red dress, and I wheeled my wheelchair over to the table next to you.
I ordered a ginger ale, and you leaned over and told me that I was probably the only author there who wasn’t drinking.
We talked for a few minutes until Cain joined us.
He shook my hand and said that my debut novel was gorgeous, and I swear I didn’t wash my hand for a good twenty-four hours after that because I was starstruck. ”
I laugh as happiness washes over me because for a moment, I’m with Cain again, in the hotel, him leaning down and kissing me.
“I remember now,” I tell Danni. “Cain was always oblivious to how his writing hit others. He could have been a smug jerk after his first ten novels, but he was humble and kind.”
“He was nice to me then, and when I emailed him a couple times after that to ask him questions.”
“You really didn’t wash your hand for twenty-four hours?”
She laughs. “Something like that. It could have been longer.” Her expression turns solemn. “I’m so sorry about your losses.”
“Thank you.” I look down at my feet then push away the sadness seeping toward me.