Chapter 20 #2
told myself that the feeling was love. But it wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
She’d dug herself in a hole this time. “Partially because Mack pointed it out to me. But partially because I feel differently
now.”
“About Cody?”
“About you.”
Lee leveled her with his gaze. It was knowing, and dreamy, and she was utterly powerless against it.
“Are you falling in love with me?”
She closed her eyes and braced herself. “Falling.”
“Let me know when you’re coming in for the landing. I’ll meet you on the runway.”
Her heart flooded with this feeling. Knowing she was wanted . . . it was new, and more vital than she had ever realized.
“How can we be sure it’s love? How do we know our feelings are the same?”
“I don’t think it’s something you can know. It’s something you have to trust.”
Her divorce was fresh. Her realizations about how she’d entangled her feelings about George with her actions toward Bryony
were still solidifying. “I’m still worried you think too highly of me. I have seventy-two million flaws and they don’t seem
to deter you.”
“Only perfect people get to experience love?”
This man could Socratic method himself anywhere. Access the vaults of gold at Fort Knox with a few pointed questions to the
guards.
“I harbored a lot of ill will against you for years.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Why don’t you hold that against me?”
“Because I understand where it was coming from. We were both trying to do the best we could for George. You were holding out
hope that he’d be up for a big change.”
“And I know better than that now. I needed to meet him where he was.”
“And I thought his feelings and experiences superseded everyone else’s. Now your cousin has the trauma of finding him, and
that didn’t have to happen. I was unwilling to push back against George’s wishes, which I thought was noble. I don’t think
that anymore.”
How amazing that he could articulate that for her. She’d never successfully navigated a true conflict with Cody. She and Lee,
on the other hand, had each dug in their heels on their side of tug-of-war. Now they were dropping the rope altogether.
“You know I tried to sabotage your relationship with George back in college.”
“I suspected.”
“He wanted me to ask you to write him. I never told you. He wondered about you in letters to me and I never once indulged him.”
“You wanted him to bond with Cody instead. That’s only natural.”
“It was never going to happen.” She paused. “Speaking of Cody.”
“Do we have to?”
“Of course we do. If you and I are going to try to be something, I want Cody to be okay with it.”
Lee considered that for a moment, dangling his fingertips into the water. “This is taking me a minute to adjust to. Last week
I would have told you that Cody’s feelings are his to deal with. But I shouldn’t be casual about his feelings.”
“All we can do is talk to him, I guess. Assure him that these feelings are new.”
Lee shook his head. “My feelings are not new.”
Thora put her head in her hands. She truly hadn’t seen. It was like the Psych 101 video asking viewers to focus on counting
basketball passes, causing them to fail to notice the person in a gorilla suit walking across the screen. Here was another
man in a gorilla suit, trying to show her that she was wanted. It had been right in front of her all along.
“Oh, Lee,” she said.
“I know.”
When he talked about not having a girlfriend, about holding out for “the one,” it had been her. There had been this joking
refrain in her life for the past ten years. Lee Halliday was always fucking there. And he was, but as so much more than Cody’s shadow. He made sure she had enough to eat in college. When a piece of jewelry
made him think of her, he made sure she received it. He refused to leave her alone in a haunted house. He was always fucking
there because he loved her.
She wished for a time machine. It would have saved Cody heartbreak; it might have saved George’s life. Instead of going back to an empty house tonight, he might be there, tending a fire and asking whether they brought him butter pecan ice cream. It made her cry.
“It’s okay, Thora.”
Why hadn’t he told her? If he’d made an embarrassing declaration of love, then what? She wouldn’t have been ready for it.
She needed the time and the growth.
Her tears were bittersweet. This week had helped her progress in her grief, let go of some guilt, and figure out what love
might look like. Whatever else happened when Lee went back to Massachusetts, she knew she was different.
Once Thora had gathered herself, she and Lee picked up the oars again and rowed for Woodhill House. Lee was on the hook to
make dinner, after all.
As he cooked, Thora continued to flesh out her book outline—which chapter would be told from whose perspective, what silly
little cliffhangers she could attach to each, the way R.L. Stine did. With the work she had completed, she could finally draft.
It was her first week living at Juniper full-time, and despite how wild a time it had been, she was prepared to draft her
novel, which was more than she could have said a week ago. The Wood Room was waiting for her, with its beautiful walls reminding
her of all the amazing times she had spent among the trees. The desk there tied her to this unbelievable legacy she was a
part of, with fortunes gained and lost and gained again.
If the house could settle down around her, everything would be perfect.
She went into the kitchen for a drink, where the wizard was working his culinary magic. Sam Cooke’s Live at the Harlem Square Club was spinning on Mack’s turntable. As she reached for a glass in the cabinet, Lee snagged her hand from the air and twirled
her into a slow dance. He said nothing at all, just held her close with a hand planted firmly on the small of her back. Sam
Cooke was singing about loving a girl who didn’t know he existed. A little on the nose, Samuel.
It should be this easy. No, it could be this easy. Actually, it was this easy. She swayed in his arms as he dropped kisses
into her hair. When the oven timer chirped, he spun her away again and resumed his kitchen duties. She fetched her drink and
returned to the sunroom. Not a word was exchanged, but he’d communicated something profound to her nonetheless. She hoped
he understood her reply.
Once Mack and Jade were home, Lee put the finishing touches on the meal he’d prepared. Jade, consummate hostess, set the table
with eclectic plates and colorful linens. Wine was generously poured into mismatched crystal goblets. Then Lee brought out
the dishes, beautifully presented in a family style.
Handmade tagliatelle, dressed with a vivid kale pesto, nearly overflowed its colorful ceramic bowl. A salad with radicchio,
endive, and fennel was festively presented with abundant shavings of parmesan. A bowl of spiced nuts sat between them, ready
to accompany either dish.
“Save room for dessert,” Lee said as he sat down with everyone.
The food was delicious and comforting, and Thora felt extraordinarily lucky to be cooked for by such a skilled and attentive
person.
“Are you sure you need to leave?” Mack asked. “You could be the chef here when we open up as a B&B.”
“How much are you paying?” he asked.
“Oh, were you expecting to be paid in money?” Mack joked. “You usually work for this family for free.”
That gave everyone a good laugh.
“Speaking of this family,” Jade said, “I know the two of you know each other through Cody, but how did you actually meet?”
Thora finished her bite of salad. “Cody, Lee, and I all worked for our college newspaper. Cody and Lee were childhood friends
who went to boarding school together.”
“Boarding school,” Mack said in her poshest English accent.
“I usually call it high school,” Lee said.
“You would,” Thora countered. “We met freshman year, at the first meeting for the paper.”
“Do you remember your first impression?”
Thora tilted her head. She recalled that day with perfect clarity, stepping into the press room and seeing Cody. Every metaphor