Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
I glide the paint roller over the final section of the sunroom wall, the first coat of coastal blue sweeping across the drywall. I step over Miss Bobber playing at my feet so I can paint the last spot of wall, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t turned into a little blue furball. Painting with her at my feet has been quite the challenge.
The first coat is finally done though, so I set the roller down in its tray and wrap it up to keep it fresh, then give Miss Bobber all of my attention. I drag her favourite toy across the floor, and she immediately pounces on it. Her little paws bat at the furry mouse before she pulls it to her mouth and rolls onto her side, kicking her back feet at it in a ferocious attack. I can’t help but laugh at her fierce determination as I push to my feet, letting her finish her work until she’s ready for me again.
My gaze turns towards the bay window, and I sweep my eyes over the view. The pale blue ocean stretches out towards the horizon, blending into the midmorning sky until it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. It’s a perfect morning. There’s not one cloud in the sky, and the water is calm as seagulls glide gracefully overhead, occasionally dipping low to scan for fish below the surface.
Theo should be having a good day out there today. I hope he is.
I take a deep breath in, just the thought of him making my heart feel light.
I’m completely falling for him.
I’ve been drawn to him since I first came to Torrin Cove and met him in his family’s store, but the more time I’ve spent with him, the stronger that pull has become. And now that I’ve finally given in to it, my feelings for him are growing at an alarming rate. It feels good… but it’s terrifying too.
I’ve let him in, and shared things I haven’t even allowed myself to fully process yet. Memories of Nick, and how much I miss him… even attempting to tell him what really happened, and what I’ve done.
And I still haven’t even spoken to my family.
My eyes drift to the sunroom door, towards my bedroom, where my phone is buried at the bottom of my bag. It’s still switched off, like it has been since I got home two weeks ago. The usual guilt settles inside me as I think about the messages likely waiting for me, especially from Mom after the text I sent her. I haven’t had the courage to check, and read her response.
But right now, I’m tempted to look… and I don’t know what to do.
I know I’m hurting my family by staying away and keeping them in the dark about everything. About what really happened with Nick, how I’m feeling about everything, and about where I even am right now. I’m in the same province, a five-hour drive away, and they have no idea. And I only feel worse knowing they’re respecting my silence, giving me space to work through it all. But really, I’m not working through anything.
I’m hiding.
I ran away.
If I can’t face myself, how can I face them?
I look out at the water again, and a familiar memory creeps into the edges of my mind. The one that is always threatening to resurface, that I’ve been desperate to keep out so I don’t have to relive it.
But this time, I let my guard down… just a little.
A vivid image of the camp up north in Alberta flashes before me. Nick stands beside me as our supervisor tells us he wants one of us to finish maintenance on the oilfield skid. It should have been me, since I was working on it all day the day before, but I wanted a change. So I convinced Nick to do it instead.
My chest tightens as I see Nick walking towards the bay where the skid was housed, and I quickly squeeze my eyes shut to make the replay stop.
No. No, no, no, I can’t. Make it go away.
The weight of it all crashes over me, as every emotion I’ve been running from hits me all at once. Sadness, anger, guilt, regret… It’s too much. I can’t do it.
I can’t do this.
A sudden urge rises to feel this pain. To control it, use it, and escape the intense pressure building inside myself. This feeling I can’t name, but is so overpowering it drives me to act on it. The desperation grows the longer I stand here, eyes closed and fists clenched, the need to control the pain and take it into my own hands is overwhelming… the need to hurt, feel, and punish.
Before I realize what I’m doing, my feet are moving, taking me to the front deck. I look out over the ocean and wrap my hands around the railing, gripping it so tight it hurts.
Don’t… don’t…
My eyes stay glued to the water as I fight the urges growing inside me, the storm quickly picking up in intensity. Until another image pushes its way into the forefront of my mind.
Freckles scattered across cheekbones, soft brown eyes, and wild, windswept hair.
The chaos inside me settles as I keep him in my mind, taking in a deep breath and slowly blowing it out.
Theo.
He’s always here for me, and I want to be here for him.
I need to be here for him.
The pain slowly pulls away, lessening just enough so I can close my eyes to feel the sun on my face, listen to the gentle sound of water lapping the shoreline, and the seagulls calling from the air above me. My heart eventually slows its pace, and my grip loosens on the railing. It still hurts… but with Theo, I feel like I can still live. Even with the pain.
I stay here for a while longer, looking out to the ocean and wishing Theo was here with me. But because he’s not… I can’t be here alone with my thoughts.
I head back inside, pat Miss Bobber as I pass her, and grab my hoodie. I shove my feet into my sneakers and step out of the house again, getting into my truck with no plan for where I’m going.
But when I pull up in front of MacKinnon’s General Store and see Jimmy sitting on the front porch with some other men, an immediate comfort washes over me.
Jimmy smiles as I step out of my truck. “Well, hello! How’s she goin’ today?”
I give him a nod in greeting and climb the steps. “Not bad,” I say, sitting in the empty chair he gestures to.
“Working on the house again today?” he asks after the rest of the men give their greetings and return to talking about one of their boats.
I nod, leaning back in my chair. “Painting the sunroom. We finished putting up the drywall yesterday.”
Jimmy huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “I thought Theo was crazy for buying that place. The property’s something else, but the house… it was in rough shape. I haven’t seen it in a while though, sounds like it’s come a long way.”
I smile, thinking of Theo buying that run-down house, knowing he would see past the scars to what could be beautiful underneath. It’s what he does. “It really has. He’s done a good job.”
Jimmy grins. “I’d say both of you have.”
He’s pulled back into a conversation with the other men about boat motors, so I sit and listen, looking out over the water. Now that it’s May, it’s warming up quite a bit as we near noon. So I push my sleeves up and feel the warmth on my skin from the sun, falling deeper into this feeling of comfort.
The screen door bangs shut, and I turn to see a guy around my age exit the store. I’ve never seen him around town before… not that I’m out that much. But as he looks at his phone, then up and down the street in confusion, it’s obvious he’s not from here.
“Can I help you find something?” I ask, drawing his attention to me.
His eyes dart to me, then back to his phone. “I’m not getting service.”
I nod, giving him an assessing look as he seems kind of skittish and awkward. He’s wearing hiking boots and outerwear, and by the looks of the gear strapped to the roof rack on his car, he either just was, or is going, camping.
“Need directions?” I ask as he squints at his phone.
He nods tightly, glancing quickly my way before dropping his gaze again.
I gesture down the street. “Straight that way will take you to the highway.”
He looks down the street and nods again. “Thank you,” he says.
But before he can leave, Jimmy leans forward. “Coming or going? Long way from Newfoundland.”
I glance over at his car parked by the gas pump, noticing the Newfoundland licence plate.
The guy turns back to us, fidgeting with the receipt in his hand. “Going,” he says, his eyes travelling over the storefront. “I was in Kejimkujik Park to see a scarlet tanager, and I found it, so now I’m going home.”
A smile tugs at my lips as I take in the awkwardness about him, that is also somehow endearing. “A scarlet tanager?”
His eyes meet mine, and they light up. “A small songbird, and one of the most difficult to spot because they forage in dense, leafy, high canopies. They come here in summer to breed and return to South America in the fall, and in spring they are sometimes forced out into the open to search for insects which increases the chances of spotting them. I did, I saw one, a summer male that is brilliant red with black wings and a tail, and I saw him before he will molt into winter plumage in late summer. Then he’ll be greenish with black wings. He’s red because he’s a breeding male so that’s really good that he’s here.” He nods, looking more confident than when he first came out here, as we all stare back at him in silence.
“Cool,” I eventually say with a smile, not quite sure what else to say. He’s obviously super into birds, and I know absolutely nothing about them.
His confidence falters again as he forces a tight smile and lifts a hand in an awkward wave. “I need to go. Bye.”
“Bye,” I chuckle as he heads down the steps.
Jimmy waves to him as he gets in his car, then turns to me, drawing his brows together. “A scarlet tangler?”
I laugh, watching the guy drive away. “Tanager, I think.”
He shrugs. “Well, he sure sounded excited about it.”
“I’d say.”
“Hi, Liam.” Cynthia steps out of the store with a smile. “I thought I saw you out here.”
I look up at her with a smile as she wipes her hands on her apron. “Hey,” I say.
“And what are you up to today?” she asks.
“I was working on the house… but,” I shift my weight in my chair, “I just needed to get out for a bit, I guess.”
She observes me for a moment then smiles brightly. “Well, perfect timing. I need some help, and these old fellas aren’t going to cut it.”
The men all grumble in protest and Cynthia waves her hand in the air with a roll of her eyes.
“I need muscles,” she says. “Any of you want to move a freezer for me?”
And suddenly, the protests all stop.
“Thought so,” she says with a shake of her head and motions for me to follow her. “Let’s go.”
I chuckle, pushing to my feet and following her inside the store. She leads me to the kitchen in back, and I wave to Heather on the way as she helps a customer at the counter.
“I dropped my favourite dough whisk behind the freezer,” Cynthia says as we enter the kitchen, pointing to the large deep freezer against the wall. “That’s what I get for doing too much at once and not just using the counter space.” She laughs softly. “Would you mind pulling the freezer out so I can grab it?”
“Sure.” I step forward and grab the edges of the freezer to shift it forward enough for her to slip behind it and retrieve her whisk.
Cynthia holds it up triumphantly. “Thanks, honey. The day this one goes will be tragic.”
I chuckle and glance around the kitchen. It’s a big space with multiple ovens, fridges, freezers, and shelves crammed with bowls. The counters are dusted with flour, and there’s a few bowls and stand mixers out.
“Ever baked before?” Cynthia asks, heading to the sink to wash her whisk.
I nod, the smell of baked bread pulling me back home for a moment, igniting a sharp pain deep inside me. “My mom likes to bake.”
She looks over her shoulder, observing me for a moment before she smiles softly. “Well, I’m on my last batch of bread and could use a hand.” She turns away from the sink, drying the whisk on her apron before holding it out for me.
I look down, and cautiously reach out to take it.
Her tone is softer when her words cut the silence between us. “I’d love to spend some more time with you.”
My heart lurches as I meet her warm brown eyes, so much like Theo’s. And despite the ache inside me, I find myself wanting to stay.
I nod, and her smile widens.
“Good. We’re making sourdough.” She gestures to two bowls on the counter. “We’re at two different stages here, so you’ll get to see it all.”
I step closer, peeking into the bowls. One is empty, and the other filled with a soft, fluffy dough.
“The thing with sourdough, is it’s so much more than just a recipe. You have to understand it,” she says, pulling the empty bowl closer to her. “That’s the secret.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “You may have the wrong person to help you then…”
She laughs, pushing the bowl towards me. “I’m a good teacher.”
I chuckle, appreciating her confidence and hoping I don’t screw this up for her.
Cynthia pulls out the ingredients and walks me through the process of making sourdough. She tells me all about the starter and how it needs to be “fed”… which completely weirds me out. It’s kept in a jar and it looks like some kind of alien slime thing that could come alive at any moment. But I do as she says and measure out ingredients, mixing it all together while she pours brownie batter from one of the stand mixers into a pan, and slides it into the oven. And while we work, she tells me all about the store’s history.
Jimmy and his wife, Marie, both grew up in Torrin Cove, and were together since they were teenagers. Marie always wanted to own a store, and when they were just in their twenties, Jimmy made her dream come true.
“She passed about fifteen years ago, after a tough fight with cancer,” Cynthia continues, her voice softening as she closes the oven. “We all keep this place running for her. Theo’s dad, Lloyd, put so much into it before he passed, too. He absolutely adored his mother.” She sighs, looking out into the store as a weight seems to press down on her.
I slow my whisking as I watch her for a moment, knowing how that weight feels. “I’m sorry for all the loss you’ve had.”
She turns back to me and smiles sadly. “Thanks, honey. It’s been hardest on Theo. He was close to his grandmother, and even closer to his dad. They were more than just father and son, they were best friends.” She moves to stand beside me again at the counter, dumping the dough from the other bowl onto the floured counter. “And I know it’s still hard for him to be working in the job where his father died.”
My head jerks up and I look at her, trying to process what she just said.
She looks up at me with a furrowed brow. “He didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head. “No…”
Cynthia sighs, turning back to the dough. “I guess I’m not surprised. It’s still hard for him to talk about.” She pauses for a moment. “Lloyd died in an accident on the lobster boat. Thankfully Theo wasn’t with him to see it, but… losing his father like that, it just destroyed him.”
She releases a breath as she cuts the dough, and I just watch her and listen, frozen to the spot.
“I worried about Lloyd out there on that boat every day,” she says quietly. “And now I worry about Theo every day too. But just like we are doing in this store for Marie, he’s doing for his dad. And I can understand that.”
My heart pounds as I take this all in, and everything Theo has shared with me suddenly makes so much sense. How he feels this deep responsibility to continue lobster fishing, and like it wasn’t really his choice… and I see now why it wasn’t. His father died doing something he worked so hard for, so that Theo could be set for life and his family would be cared for. And Theo stepped up, continuing to build their business and confront the same danger that took his dad’s life. Every day.
This family has faced unimaginable loss. But instead of breaking them, it brought them even closer.
“Mom.”
Cynthia and I turn to see Heather standing in the doorway, tapping away at her phone looking frazzled.
“Chris is heading to Antigonish tomorrow to help his parents with their yard. He was going to take the kids, but it looks like he’ll stay overnight. Any chance you can take them in the afternoon?”
Cynthia winces. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’m delivering a cake to Lunenburg tomorrow for a baby shower.”
“Oh, right.” Heather sighs. “I forgot about that. Maybe Grandpa can keep them entertained if I take them here for the day.”
“We can take them,” I say, the words coming out of my mouth before I can even think about what I’m saying.
Both of their eyes land on me, and I’m suddenly aware I may have crossed some line I wasn’t sure was there. But Theo loves those kids, and tomorrow is Sunday. He won’t be fishing, and we have time…
“We were just going to work on the house for the day,” I say slowly, wiping flour off my hands and trying to avoid their gazes. “They can play with the kitten.”
Heather chuckles lightly, and I lift my eyes to meet hers.
“I still think it’s adorable you guys have a kitten,” she says with a smile.
I huff out a laugh, but then Heather eyes me curiously.
“The only reason I didn’t ask Theo is because his house is a death trap and he’s always working… and last time Mason was over there he almost fell through a hole in the floor.”
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head at the visual. “No holes now.”
Heather nods slowly, a smile spreading across her face. “Ok, then. I’ll drop them off in the morning.”
A warm feeling settles over me as I smile back at her.
Helping this family feels like the least I can do, after everything they’ve given me.