Chapter Seventeen #2
Would she even get to see Nick? Would each visit be like a snapshot of his life since she left?
A girlfriend. A wife. His first child. Another child.
Gray at his temples. Or maybe she wouldn’t even run into him, and Nick Slater would fade into a fond memory that resurfaced when she came back to Maine.
Her heart ached at the thought, but she refused to allow herself to cry. Gran’s heart also had to be aching right now, and Lucy didn’t want to make it worse. She would drink tea she didn’t really like, except for the warmth it spread through her, and do jigsaw puzzles while the storm raged outside.
* * *
Nick couldn’t stay away.
He pulled into the Keel’s parking lot the night after the storm and was lucky enough to find a spot his truck would fit in. Since he’d told himself if the lot was full and he had to park on the street, he’d just go home and send her a text with his news instead, he took it as a sign.
He’d see Lucy. He’d have a meal. And that would be enough to get him through until tomorrow. It wouldn’t take long for him to get used to not having her around. Hopefully. But he had good news and, rather than add to their rapidly growing text message thread, he decided to tell her in person.
And when he walked in, their eyes met and her face lit up, and he knew it was well worth what the meal was going to cost him.
“Hey, stranger,” she said when he’d grabbed a seat. It was the corner seat at the end and had the worst view of the television hung over the shelves in the center, so it was rarely used. It had the benefit of leaving three stools empty between him and the next guy.
“Did you guys do okay in the storm?” he asked her, wishing he could reach across the bar and kiss her instead of asking benign questions about the weather.
“All good. We lost power for a couple of hours, like everybody else, but no damage. You?”
“All good.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no damage,” Lucy said as she put a coaster with the Keel’s logo on the bar in front of her, and he tensed. “I officially cut ties with Iris.”
“I’m sorry,” he said automatically. It couldn’t have been easy. “It’s definitely her loss.”
“She was actually researching the cottage’s value, and I realized…well, anyway. That’s done.”
“It must be nice to have Helen in person, finally.”
“It’s great. She took so many pictures, and we’ve done so much talking. And I have to build a house.”
“That sounds drastic. And expensive.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Plus I’ve seen you swing a hammer. Have you considered just renting an apartment somewhere?”
Like somewhere nearby so you’re still in my life?
“No, it’s like a metaphorical house. Or something. It’s hard to explain. But Gran’s my foundation and now I need to build the life I want to live in, like a house.”
Maybe it was because building houses had been a part of Nick’s life since he was old enough for his father to trust him with snapping a chalk line, but he thought it was a shaky analogy.
Building houses wasn’t a sure thing. A lot of people built houses and then realized the floor plan that looked good on paper didn’t actually work for their families.
They built houses they couldn’t afford and eventually had to sell or lose to the bank.
They cut corners and had bad rooflines and leaky basements.
“You just keeping that stool warm?” Billy asked in a rough voice as he stepped up behind Lucy.
“Hey, Billy. Having some trouble deciding what I want tonight.”
He snorted and nudged Lucy’s arm with his elbow. “He’ll have the meat loaf with mashed, extra gravy. No veg. Two rolls, extra butter. And a ginger ale.”
When Lucy arched an eyebrow at him, Nick shrugged. “Sounds good.”
Billy barked out a laugh. “This one’s got a habit of showing up when meat loaf’s on the special board.”
After he walked away, Lucy put her hands on her hips. “And here I thought you’d come to see me.”
He had—he hadn’t even looked at their Facebook page or at the specials board outside—but the meat loaf gave him an excuse for being there other than not being able to stay away from her for a full two days.
She had to tend to some other customers after she set a ginger ale in front of him, so he pulled out his phone and scanned through the news in his sports app. He didn’t really care, but it gave him something to look at other than Lucy laughing with her other customers.
But when she brought out his meal, she leaned her elbows on the bar like she had time to visit for a few minutes.
“You know,” he said, “if you build a house, you need to make sure you build with the good quality materials. And you have to be prepared for the house not working out for you, after all.”
“So, I should build an RV?”
He snorted. “No. Nothing that temporary. But the house you build doesn’t have to be the house you stay in forever if you’re not as happy there as you thought you’d be.”
For a moment, the words hung between them—heavy with a meaning neither of them were sure he meant—and then she smiled. “You’d be a great life coach.”
“Absolutely not.” The last thing he needed was more people looking to him for answers, even if they were writing him checks for the advice.
“Okay, maybe not a great life coach, but a great coach.” She gave him a falsely innocent smile. “I’m just saying.”
She had no way of knowing he’d been thinking the same thing lately.
Maybe it was just being able to talk openly about what football meant to him again.
Or the feel of the ball in his arms as he ran down the beach.
Probably both. But he’d seen the school was looking for volunteer assistant coaches and, unlike in the past, he was thinking about it.
So far he hadn’t done anything but think, but he was starting to think it might be a good idea. Between moving back into the house and Lucy leaving, he knew he was in danger of going back into the small bubble of work and his brothers that he’d been living in.
Coaching could never fill the hole Lucy was going to leave in his life, but he could try to grab a little happiness for himself. And the busier he kept himself, the less time he’d have to miss her.
He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, to anybody. Not until he’d talked to Coach and made a decision.
“Where’s Mattie?” he asked, making a show of looking around. “She’s such a great bartender. Just gives me what I ask for and minds her own business.”
“Hey, don’t be a rude customer on my last night.”
Nick froze, not sure he’d heard her correctly. “What?”
She nodded. “Nicole’s going to be here next weekend, so I’m all done. I’m a little sad about it, to be honest. This has been one of my favorite places to work.”
Then don’t go. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back. Even if she did stay in town, she couldn’t take the job away from Nicole. And this wasn’t her dream.
First Helen had come home. Now Lucy was working her last shift at the Keel. It was the next step in her plan to get in her car and leave Wayward Harbor behind.
To leave him behind.
He cleared his throat. “So what are you doing early Tuesday morning?”
“I don’t know. How early?”
“Like two o’clock in the morning early?”
Lucy recoiled, but then understanding dawned and she grinned. “Did you get a reservation? Are we doing it?”
“I did get one. I know it’s short notice, but it has to do with how they release the reservations to try to make it fair for tourists already in the area. So sunrise on Cadillac Mountain on Tuesday?”
“Definitely.” She wrinkled her nose. “The logistics, though. Maybe it would make the most sense if I just stayed at your place since we have to get up and leave in the middle of the night.”
Maybe it did make sense, but Nick’s brain short-circuited at the idea of Lucy sleeping in his bed. Of course, she might have been implying she was going to crash on his couch, but he hoped not with every misguided fiber of his being.
“We’re too old for all-nighters, so you might want to cut off the coffee tomorrow earlier than usual,” he warned. “We’ll have to sleep before that drive.”
“I’ll work in the yard all morning so I’m tired from the fresh air,” she said.
“Good idea. I took tomorrow and Tuesday off, but I have some stuff to do in the morning, so I’ll be home by early afternoon.” He paused in spreading butter on his roll to give her a stern look. “Dress warm. And then bring something warmer to put on when we get there.”
“Got it,” she said as a guy down the bar called her name. “I guess I should see what he wants. It would suck to get fired on my last day.”
Nick let himself watch her walk away before going back to buttering his dinner rolls before they got cold. He’d come here to get just a little taste of Lucy’s company. And now she was coming for a sleepover at his place.
He wasn’t sure that was progress, but he wasn’t turning her down.