Chapter 18
The second week of September, Ben went into the lobby of the vet clinic to find Scott Winston waiting there for him.
Ben was taken aback. He’d never had fond feelings for Scott, so he hadn’t imagined he’d see Scott again soon.
“Hey there,” Ben said, offering his most professional smile. “How is your mother doing?”
Scott stood, wringing his hands. “Good. Better. Can we talk for a minute?”
Lucky for Scott, Ben’s schedule wasn’t packed today, so he led him to the back office and closed the door behind him. Fear spiked in his heart. Maybe there really was something wrong with Nelly. Maybe Scott hadn’t wanted to confess it in the waiting room.
“I’ll get right to it,” Scott said. “My mother has finally agreed to move into a nursing home.”
“I see.” Ben frowned.
“It’s for the best. She cannot live on her own, and I want her to live closer to me,” Scott said. “But this obviously leaves us with a problem. Pudding needs to be rehomed.”
“Of course.” Ben knew Nelly was devastated about this. Pudding was her little heartbeat, her best friend.
“I thought of that woman,” Scott said. “The one Mom knew from the old days. Do you think she’d want to take him on a more permanent basis?”
“I’ll have to ask her,” Ben said. “She’s a travel photographer, so it might not be easy.”
Scott’s gaze dropped in disappointment. “Well, maybe you know someone else.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Ben promised. “Pudding will go to a good home.”
“Can you come by and get him today?” Scott asked. “It would be easier if he wasn’t underfoot.”
“Of course.”
Ben left the clinic at six thirty that night, calling Landon on the way to tell him he’d be late for dinner at his place. “I have to pick up Pierre,” he said. “He’s homeless again.”
“Shoot.” Landon sounded worried. “Bring him over after you’re done. Have you talked to Wren about him?”
“Not yet,” Ben said. “I don’t want to force her into a responsibility she doesn’t want.”
Landon was quiet for a moment, as though he wanted to tell Ben something but knew he couldn’t. “Right. Of course. But I think she needs to know,” he said. “See you soon.”
Ben reached Nelly’s place a few minutes later. A woman he didn’t recognize answered the door. “Ah. The vet here for Pudding?” she asked, smiling.
“That’s right,” Ben said.
She led him to the back room, where Nelly sat on an ornate sofa with her dog on her lap. She looked quiet and forlorn. Tears sprang to her eyes as soon as Ben sat down.
“I know it’s for the best,” she said tenderly, stroking poor Pudding’s ear. “He’s given me all the love I’ve needed during these years, but he needs more now. More than I can give.”
“You’re a brilliant pet owner, Nelly,” Ben told her tenderly. “Usually people only think of themselves and their own needs.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing for years!” Nelly said. “But I think it’s finally time I put Pudding first.” She hesitated. “I can’t help but hope that Margaret Harper’s daughter will take him?”
“I need to talk to her about it,” Ben said, lacing his fingers together.
Nelly smiled. “Correct me if I’m wrong. But there’s something between you two, isn’t there?”
Ben was taken aback. “Oh. Um. No. We met only very recently,” he explained.
But Nelly didn’t seem to think this was an issue. “I married my husband after knowing him for less than four months!” she exclaimed. “Sometimes love sticks, and you figure it out as you go along.”
“I don’t think Wren’s in love with me.” Ben laughed. “I’m damaged goods. I was married before. It was a really dramatic and awful time.”
“People get divorced all the time!” Nelly waved him off. “It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give yourself time and space to move forward! To love again!” She raised a fist into the air.
Ben thought this woman had more joie de vivre in her pinky toe than most people did. It was funny, seeing her like this. He’d met her so recently, shaking so violently at the vet clinic that she couldn’t stand or talk. She’d been on the search for her little dog. Her heart had taken her there.
It was a tearful goodbye. Nelly kissed Pudding’s head and told him to be a “very good dog” wherever he ended up. “The nice vet Ben will make sure you’re all right,” she told Pudding. “Thank you for everything, my sweetie. Don’t forget to write!” She laughed, even as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Ben hooked Pudding-slash-Pierre to a leash and led him into the chilly evening.
If he booked it, he would make it to Landon and Celia’s before the rain began.
All the way there, Pierre scampered and panted happily, celebrating what was probably his first real walk since he’d gone back to Nelly’s.
As the minutes passed, Ben felt more and more like Nelly had done the right thing.
But how could he tell Wren about him? And if Wren wouldn’t take him, who would?
Ben wasn’t prepared to take on a pet just now.
His hours were long, and he had too many other animals to care for.
When he reached Landon’s, Celia flung open the door, bent down, and greeted Pierre with a kiss. “He’s back!” She sang. “Poor little darling, we were worried about you.”
Pierre followed Celia into the kitchen, where Landon sat with a beer and a big bowl of pre-dinner chips and dip. Pierre leaped onto the chair beside Landon as though he already belonged there.
“Very presumptuous.” Celia laughed.
“It’s because he’s French,” Landon joked, reaching over to pet him.
Ben sat across from Pierre, cracking open a beer of his own and allowing himself, for the first time all day, to relax a bit.
Celia was nearly done with the pasta dinner, a pesto-based dish with goat cheese, and when they all sat together to eat, Pierre got down and lay on the ground without begging.
“I wonder if he’s ever had pasta before,” Landon said thoughtfully.
“Don’t give him any ideas,” Celia said.
Ben decided to use this opportunity to figure out where Wren’s head was at. Surely Celia knew more than he did, as she was the eldest Harper sister.
“I guess Wren will be on her way soon?” Ben asked, trying to keep his voice easy.
Celia froze with her fork poised beneath her mouth. “Oh. Yeah, I don’t know! Last I heard, she was hired for another gig around here. More coastal Maine stuff, for autumn.”
Autumn! Ben considered leaping out of his chair and rejoicing. Autumn was here now, but it would also go till November: foggy forests and coastlines, gorgeous yellow and red trees. It meant that Wren would be around much longer than he’d imagined.
Was he celebrating for Pierre’s sake? Or for his own?
“Exciting,” he said instead, his voice flat.
“I guess you still haven’t told her about Pierre,” Landon said.
Ben was quiet and unable to answer.
“Just text her now, maybe?” Landon pushed it.
“Oh yeah. Definitely,” Celia joined in. “She’d love to hear about little Pierre.”
Begrudgingly, Ben pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Wren something simple.
BEN: Hey! I have news about Pudding-Pierre. Could you meet up tomorrow?
“There,” he said, setting down his phone and rolling his eyes. “Are you happy now?”
“Very much so,” Landon said.
Celia laughed, but something in her eyes gave Ben pause. He couldn’t fathom what it meant.
It took over an hour for Wren to write him back.
It made him feel borderline insane, checking his phone every three minutes, regardless of what was going on around him.
Didn’t she always have her phone on her?
Why was she ignoring him? He didn’t understand.
Had he done something stupid the last time they’d seen one another, something that told her he wasn’t worth her time, even on a friend basis?
Finally, right when Ben’s head was going to explode with panic, Wren wrote back.
WREN: Hi! Yes, I’d love to hear about little Pierre. I have to take some pictures at the park tomorrow. Do you want to go on a hike with me?
Ben was surprised at how open and beautiful the suggestion was. She wanted to go somewhere beautiful, but more than that, she wanted to go somewhere beautiful with him.
What did it mean?
The following morning, Ben woke up to find Pierre the dog already happily active and moving around his home as though he owned the place.
Ben let him into the backyard, fed him, and scrubbed his head with the tips of his fingers.
Pierre gazed at him lovingly. Ben hated how susceptible he was to Pierre’s love.
He was too much of a softy, he knew. It was why Rina had ruined his heart and his life.
Ben and Wren had agreed to meet at the park at eleven o’clock.
Ben packed Pierre’s water dish, plenty of snacks, and his leash, then let Pierre into the front seat of his car.
As he drove, he couldn’t help but imagine the reunion that Pierre and Wren would share.
He hated how beautiful it looked in his mind’s eye.
He needed to stop fantasizing about this woman. He needed to get a grip.
Ben reached the parking lot at the park a few minutes before Wren did.
After Wren parked the car she’d brought—one that maybe belonged to Juliet, although Ben wasn’t sure about that—she dug through a bag and seemed to search through various camera lenses, trying to decide which ones to bring on the hike.
Ben waited expectantly until Pierre began to bark.
He’d spotted Wren, it seemed like. His nose was pressed sloppily against the window.
At the sound of Pierre, Wren turned and gaped at them both.
She was out of Juliet’s car and over to them in a flash.
She opened the door, then bent down to pick little Pierre up and hold him in her arms. Her loose dress fluttered around her, beautiful and feminine and vaguely Greek.
Ben got out and watched as Pierre licked her face again and again.
Seeing it in reality was far better than imagining it, he realized. Wren looked so overcome that she couldn’t speak, not for a full minute. Then she raised her head to look at Ben and asked, “How?”
Ben smiled and shrugged. “Her children picked out a retirement home for Nelly. She’s leaving, and she can’t take Pierre with her.”
“Oh no.” Wren furrowed her brow.
“She asked specifically if you could take him,” Ben said. “I told her that you’re a traveler and don’t usually stay in one place.”
Wren looked strangled with a mix of pain and confusion. She set Pierre down, then reached for the leash in Ben’s hand to secure him.
“Now that I see him,” Wren murmured, “I can’t imagine letting him go again. But maybe that’s just insanity.” With her camera bag on her shoulder, she turned and walked to the edge of the forest, plunging into the shadows. Ben followed close, confused.
For more than twenty minutes, they walked to the coast. Ben ached to ask Wren what was on her mind, but he had the sense that Wren needed quiet.
He listened to the sounds of the woods instead, the rustling of the leaves and the twittering of birds.
It was a place in flux, shifting from summer to autumn, and Wren stopped frequently to take photographs.
She included Pierre in several of them, clearly amazed to have him before her again.
Ben found himself itching to take her hand as they walked through the forest with their little dog. Her little dog.
When they finally reached the rocky coastline, Wren sat on a flat rock, sipped her water, and watched as the waves crashed and sprayed white droplets everywhere.
Pierre sat companionably beside her, following her gaze.
Ben grabbed a rock not far from them, wanting to keep his distance.
His tongue was heavy with personal expectation. He desperately wanted to ask her out.
Unless this was a date already? Was that why she’d asked him here?
His head swam.
Finally, Wren spoke. “You know,” she began tentatively, “things got really messy for me back in Greece. I tell everyone that I came back to Bluebell Cove for a photography assignment, but that isn’t really true. I had to escape Greece. I had to escape myself.”
Ben kept his face stoic. He had the sense that she was telling him something essential.
“It’s just that I don’t know if I can build anything with anyone right now,” she whispered, dropping her own gaze down to the dog. “I’ve been through a lot this year, and I don’t think I can give anything to anyone. I feel dried out.”
Ben’s heart lurched with feeling. Wren was admitting she had feelings for him. But she was also admitting that she couldn’t follow up on those feelings for reasons she didn’t want to get into right now. Ben didn’t know whether to celebrate or drown in sorrows.
“But I’d really like to be friends with you,” Wren whispered. “It’s so great that you’re at family events, and I love Landon and his kids. So maybe we can make things easy on ourselves?”
Ben nodded furiously, pretending that this was what he wanted as well. “That sounds really good to me,” he said. “Let’s make it easy.”
Wren smiled so brightly that it seemed to evaporate the ocean water from the rocks. Ben’s smile widened, but the beginning of a migraine wiggled up the back of his neck and entered his head. He hadn’t realized till right now how desperately he’d wanted to fall in love with her.