Chapter 37
Lauren slipped into the grand kitchen to check on the champagne. Mr. Carrington was just about to offer congratulations to
his daughter and future son-in-law, and everyone needed a glass.
A young server passed with a tray of champagne, and a dozen more trays were loaded and ready to go. She’d hired her previous
employer as caterer, and Mercy was doing a great job.
“Speech in five minutes,” Lauren told her.
“We’re on it.”
Lauren stepped back into the fray of the party. Glitter didn’t ordinarily do private events, but Mr. Carrington had been one
of Ella’s big corporate clients. He’d approached Lauren about the event in early January, after his daughter’s Christmas engagement.
Olivia had agreed that they should cater to the client in this case.
It had been a quickly planned affair, but since the event was to be held in their home, she didn’t have to secure a venue
last minute. The party’s atmosphere was beautiful and inviting—the bayside mansion didn’t hurt matters—and the event had gone
off without a hitch so far.
Moments later Mr. and Mrs. Carrington gathered the attention of their guests—about a hundred of their closest friends and
relatives—and congratulated the couple.
The bride- and groom-to-be, who were about Lauren’s age, flushed happily as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
The toast was made, glasses were raised, and Lauren smiled as Mrs. Carrington gathered her daughter in for a heartfelt embrace.
The two were very close, you could just tell. She took Cassandra’s face in her hands and said something that made her tearful
daughter laugh.
Lauren wondered if she and her mother could ever have that kind of intimate relationship. Perhaps too much time had passed.
Time they’d spent apart, each living their own lives. But her visit to the woman’s apartment last week had gone better than
she’d hoped. She’d stayed for two hours and left completely drained.
But hopeful. They were meeting for coffee next week. It was a start.
Lauren turned her attention to the happy couple. The announcement finished, people gathered to offer their own congratulations.
She zeroed in on the groom’s face. He looked quite ordinary really, with brown hair and an average face. But his beaming smile
and the light in his eyes when he gazed at Cassandra made him extraordinary. His love for her was written all over his face.
Would anyone ever look at her that way again?
“You did a fantastic job with the party, Lauren.” Mrs. Carrington approached, tucking a dark, curly lock behind her ear. “And
on such short notice. I was worried when Greg told me Ella was retiring. She’s been handling his events for years.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re happy. Your home is so beautiful and inviting, it really didn’t take much.”
“Oh, you’re being too modest. I’ve had to throw a party or two myself—enough to know it is not my forte.” Her head tilted
as she studied Lauren, brown eyes twinkling. “I don’t suppose you plan weddings, do you, dear?”
Lauren laughed. “I think Glitter would draw the line there.”
“Oh, well, it never hurts to ask.” The woman squeezed her arm. “We’ll be sure to recommend you to Greg’s business associates. You’ve got a real talent for this.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
Mrs. Carrington waved at someone across the room, giving a broad smile. “You’ll have to excuse me. My great-aunt is about
to tell me why my dress doesn’t suit my coloring and complain our chairs are uncomfortable.” She winked.
After she left Lauren began collecting empty flutes. While she worked she took stock of her emotions. She was feeling a bit
unsettled, which made no sense. This event—the first one she’d planned start to finish—had gone off without a hitch. Her clients
were pleased. She would soon be recommended among a very elite set of corporate types. And still she was feeling vaguely—there
was no getting around the word— depressed .
She thought back through the past few minutes when her mood had taken a hit. The toast, the happy couple, the mother-daughter
moment. All of it had stirred up a bit of melancholy. But it was Mrs. Carrington’s question about planning a wedding that
had stolen the air from her party balloon. The comment had dredged up thoughts of the barn venue she’d worked so hard on.
Of Pinehaven. The Landrys.
Jonah.
She thought of that engagement ring tucked away in a safe on the lodge’s second story. The ring he’d bought for her. Her gaze
drifted to the happy couple across the room, chatting with another couple their age. She and Jonah could’ve been engaged right
now. She could’ve been wearing that ring on her finger. But she’d fallen and hit her head and now she was here in Boston,
alone.
She turned her hand over and traced the fawohodie symbol on her wrist. Freedom and independence. She had officially achieved both. She was her own boss and her salary provided the kind of upscale studio apartment she’d only dreamed about as a girl. So why wasn’t she happy?
She kept sweeping away the glasses until they were all in the kitchen. There was really nothing else for her to do here. Her
part was finished. The caterer was in charge of cleanup.
She waited for Mercy to finish speaking with a server. “I’m gonna take off now unless there’s anything you need from me.”
“Nope, we’re all good here. Go home and get some rest. Thanks for the business.”
“Of course. Thanks, Mercy. Your crew did a terrific job.”
“I’ll see you next time.”
Lauren slipped from the party and handed the valet her ticket. Vehicles were parked in a long string down the curving road.
As she waited for her car in the makeshift shelter, Mercy’s words repeated themselves in her head: “ next time .”
Lauren gave her head a sharp shake. Why was she feeling so gloomy? She should be celebrating her first event. She was proud
it had gone off so well. But... the triumph of success wasn’t quite living up to the hype.
What was wrong with her?
When the valet arrived with her car, she tipped him, then drove toward her apartment. And the longer she drove, the more she
realized that she didn’t just feel gloomy. She felt homesick. She missed Pinehaven and the resort.
She missed Jonah.
It had been seven whole weeks since she’d last seen him. How long would it take to stop missing him? For these feelings to
dull?
What if they never did?
The drive home took forever as traffic was awful on Friday nights. It was almost eleven by the time she let herself into her apartment. Graham acted as if he hadn’t seen her in a century. She took him out side and he did his business quickly as he didn’t enjoy the cold any more than she did.
Back in the apartment she changed into leggings, fixed herself a drink, and settled in her favorite recliner, Graham curling
up at her feet. She grabbed her laptop and went straight to the resort’s Facebook page, hungry for news. Meg only posted every
so often during the winter.
She had texted Lauren a few times with questions, and Tammy had checked on her twice. But nothing from Jonah. Not that she’d
expected anything. Still, a part of her had hoped.
The page opened and a photo caught her eye. Jonah stood in plaid flannel, faded jeans, and work boots in front of the lodge’s
fireplace, warming his hands. The fire cast a golden glow on his skin as he stared into the flames, wearing a pensive expression.
His hair had grown out a bit and his beard was back, although it was nicely trimmed.
The sight of him stole her breath. Her stomach squeezed. She ached for him. She reached out and touched his face. But the
screen was cold and flat and lifeless.
She read the caption below the photo. Even our resident handyman needs to warm up by the fire occasionally. Come stay in one of our picturesque cabins on beautiful
Loon Lake and take advantage of our bargain winter rates. Ice fish, snowmobile, and ski to your heart’s content!
She skimmed the thirteen comments below, three of them written by guests she’d met this year. It had been fun meeting people
from all around the country, making them feel at home, having a small part in making their vacations special.
She glanced at the photo of Jonah again and remembered she had a whole cache of photos on her phone she hadn’t let herself
pore over. But now she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She opened the app and scrolled backward to her early days at the resort.
She’d taken beautiful shots of the sun rising or setting over the lake, inviting shots of cabins draped in snow, smoke curling
from their chimneys. Then came the photos she recognized, only through the brochures, of Flume Gorge. The bridge, the tumbling
creek, the falls, and then a mountain vista.
Then there was Jonah, standing on the end of the resort’s main pier, staring out at the water. Jonah chopping wood. And another,
apparently taken moments later as he spotted her, a playful grin flashing on his face.
There was a sequence of at least ten goofy selfies Jonah had taken at a restaurant when she’d apparently left him alone with
her phone.
The two of them snuggled up in the motorboat. A selfie with the sunset in the background. Jonah at the coffee shop, white
mug to his quirked lips, his piercing blue eyes staring straight at the camera’s lens. They seemed so happy. So relaxed. So
in love.
There were dozens more, some with Meg and the whole Landry clan. She soaked in each one. For the first time since her accident,
she wanted her memory back. She wanted all the memories attached to these photos. To this man.
That was out of her control. But she still had the ability to make new ones. Her heart did a slow roll. She wanted to be back
at the resort right now. She wanted to be with Jonah.
She wanted to be home .
Her breath left her lungs in a sudden rush. She wasn’t sure when Boston had stopped being her home, but it had. And the so-called
dream job for which she’d fought so hard... It had only left her feeling empty. There were things here she cared about.
People she cared about.
But Boston was no longer her home.
Her pulse racing, she checked the time. If she left now, she would arrive in the middle of the night. That would be crazy.
If she had any brains at all, she’d get a good night’s sleep and wait till morning.
But who was she kidding? She couldn’t sleep now. And the thought of staying in this big, empty apartment for one more night made her want to weep. She wanted to be home right now .
She set aside her laptop and popped to her feet, startling Graham. “Wanna go for a ride, boy? Huh? Wanna go home?” Graham’s
mouth curved into that familiar doggy smile.