Chapter 26
Iclimbed into bed that night playing and replaying what Luke said in my head, excited butterflies dancing low in my stomach.
I wanted to write it down. All summer, he had made me feel so comfortable.
I never felt like I had to put on appearances for him.
I cared that he felt I was being responsible with Luna, but beyond that, I’d been completely present with him.
Completely myself. When I was with him, with both of them, I wasn’t in my head. I was just there.
The rattling of my phone on the wooden surface of the nightstand assaulted my senses. I snatched it up, my naive heart hoping the name on the screen would be Luke. It wasn’t, but a smile still found itself on my face when I saw it said Natalie.
I rubbed my eyes and answered the FaceTime call. “Hi!”
“You know how I told you that thing Max said to you about the shooting star sounded familiar?”
“Yesss.” I scooched up to lean against the headboard.
“It’s because it’s word-for-word pulled from Never Forget Me!” She flashed the paperback copy of one of our favorite Edward Phelps novels in front of her camera.
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was, babe.”
“I’m sure it’s only a coincidence? I mean, I didn’t remember that part of the book.”
“Tell me some of the other romantic things he’s said to you.”
“Hmm.” I wracked my brain for examples. Max’s courting style was flattery. The quickest way into my insecure little heart, I thought darkly.
“There was the shooting star thing. The other night he said, ‘Sweet dreams, I hope they’re about me.’” I combed through our conversations in my head, trying to remember the times he’d made me blush.
“When he talks about the day we met, he says he thought I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and he’d regret not at least finding out if I was single.
But that’s kinda standard flattery, right? ”
“True. Anything else?”
I told her about the time he said to learn to take a compliment because there was more where that came from, that time he said he was in the company of a gorgeous woman on a gorgeous night, and let’s pretend tomorrow is far, far away. My embarrassment climbed with each example I shared.
Natalie jotted the keywords down on her phone.
“Which Ed Phelps books do you have there?”
I climbed out of bed with a groan and padded over to the bookcase in the corner of the bedroom. “I have The Impossible Dream, The Rest of Our Summers, Something In The Water, and Hope Against Hope.”
“Okay, you take those. I think I have the rest.”
I pouted. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”
“Your text a few hours ago said you’re going to break up with him anyway, so what’s the harm? I think it’s kinda funny, in a slightly dark way…”
I pouted harder.
“I’m sorry, Val. If you don’t want us to look, we don’t have to.”
“No, I’m curious now. And yes, I have already decided to break up with him. I just feel like…a sucker. Like I got faked out. I feel like next thing you know we’ll find out it was some sort of bet.”
“I doubt it. I think he just stole his game from his dad’s books.”
I grabbed Hope Against Hope from the shelf after we hung up and started rereading it. I’d better not discover any familiar lines in here.
I found one before I fell asleep.
The next night, Natalie and I were up until midnight on FaceTime, pouring over all our Edward Phelps paperbacks.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom, I read the words the male love interest said to the main character after their third date in The Impossible Dream.
“Shoot.”
“Did you find another one?” Natalie asked, reluctantly lifting her head up from the paperback in her own hands.
I underlined the quote in pencil—Introducing you as anything else just wouldn’t feel right—and read it aloud to Natalie. “That’s what he said when he asked me to be his girlfriend.”
“Damn,” she said. I bookmarked this page with a tiny pink sticky note, closed it, and tossed it into the growing pile of similarly bookmarked paperbacks in the middle of the carpeted floor.
“I can’t believe a real-life man said all these things to a woman he was pursuing, and it worked?”
“Yeah… It kinda worked,” I admitted.
Natalie broke into a fit of giggles and then noticed the look on my face—a mix of embarrassment and awe. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I honestly don’t blame you. If a handsome, mature man said these things to me, I’d swoon.”
“Ugh,” I groaned, lying back on the floor and looking up at the ceiling.
“Don’t you want to keep reading? See if there are others?” Natalie asked, her voice emanating from my phone where it leaned against the stack of books.
“I think it’s safe to assume the answer is yes at this point.”
“Probably true… Hey, on the plus side, at least he likes romance novels? Not that it matters, since you’re breaking up with him. But I’m sure he’ll make some other romance novel-loving woman happy someday.” She chuckled, obviously trying to lighten my mood.
“He likes them too much, Natalie, far too much. This is so ludicrous.”
“Agreed. You literally cannot make this shit up.”
“Unless you’re Edward Phelps.”
“Unless you’re Edward freaking Phelps,” Natalie agreed. She picked up another book from the unchecked stack on her coffee table and opened it.
Ever the charmer, but he couldn’t even use his own words. And I fell for it, for a time. Shame washed through me, settling in my stomach like a stone.
For the rest of the week, I spent my writing time sorting and filing emails to the Peters & Dowling server—a permanent legal record of everything I’d worked on over six years.
It was cathartic to go through it all, reminding me that while I’d chosen to leave this career behind, at least for now, I had done a lot in my time there.
I’d worked on investments in companies that had gone on to change the status quo in their industry and negotiated mergers that led to new medical devices being distributed all around the world.
I decided I was allowed to be proud of what I’d accomplished, even though I didn’t want to do it anymore.
Telling the handful of associates I’d made friends with over the years was less nerve-wracking than telling the partners, but harder in some ways because I felt like I was abandoning them, especially the junior associates.
But they were all supportive. Some even said they were jealous and wished they had the courage to quit, too.
I slipped my work phone back into my bag when Luna hopped into the backseat of the car Thursday afternoon, braids long since lost to the harbor winds.
“How’s tennis going?” I asked as I turned right to get back onto Main Street and drive toward their house.
“Great! I still don’t know if we can win, but we’re getting better. I think we’re a good team. And now Clara’s my best friend at tennis and sailing.” She shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal she had a best friend.
A dopey grin spread on my face. “You still working on her backhand?”
She nodded. “She’s gotten a lot better. I have, too. But I think Rachel is still better than us at that.” Luna scowled.
“You can keep working on it. When is the tournament?”
“August.”
“You have plenty of time.” I met her eyes in the rearview mirror for a second. “I think all the hard work is going to pay off.”
When we got back, Luke pulled into the driveway next to us moments later.
Luna jumped out of the car the moment I put it in park. “Dad!”
“Hey, Luns.” A smile took over his face as she launched herself into his arms, caring nothing for the bag in his hand.
He embraced her and kissed her temple. “How was your day?” He ran a hand over the back of her shirt. “I see you didn’t capsize. Or you already changed.”
Luke made eye contact with me over Luna’s head and inclined his head toward the door—an invitation to follow them inside.
“Nope, didn’t capsize. Pretty much everyone else did though.”
He laughed as he put her back down in the walkway.
When we crossed the threshold he guided Luna by her shoulders to the staircase. “Go take your shower and you can watch Disney before dinner.” Luna jogged up the stairs.
“That’s some good negotiating. I often have to bribe her with a pre-shower snack,” I said.
He chuckled. “I take that as high praise. It doesn’t always work, but it’s usually worth a try.”
“I’ll add it to my arsenal.” We stood by the door, facing each other, no more than a foot apart. Neither of us moved farther into the house. The room fell silent, the air suddenly charged. I watched Luke’s chest rise and fall. Were his breaths shorter than usual?
Did that evening at the beach change everything for him, too?
I tilted my chin up, lifting my gaze back to his face. His brown eyes were waiting for me, and time stood still while we just…looked at each other, words eluding us equally, until the squeak of the shower being turned on upstairs broke our trance.
Luke cleared his throat. “Do you have plans tonight? I bought a bunch of steak tips to grill. Mimi can join us, too.”
“She has book club tonight. But I can stay.”
He smiled like that was the best news he’d heard all week, and my heart stumbled. “Great,” he said. “I need to respond to like three emails, then I’ll be down. Don’t go anywhere?”
I nodded, wondering if he knew how special he made me feel with that smile.
“Help yourself to whatever. You know where everything is,” he called over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs.
I hadn’t seen Max since Sunday, and we hadn’t spoken much either.
We had plans tomorrow night, and that was when I planned to break things off.
He already felt like a stranger. I also had this odd grudge against him for using lines from books to woo me.
I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much, but it did.
Even though it wasn’t malicious, it ruined something for me. I felt commoditized.
When Luke got back down, he poured himself a glass of water and joined me on the couch.
“Do you play tennis?” I asked.
“No, I didn’t have the forethought to stick Luna only in sports I actually know how to play. Jeremiah is a great tennis player, though.”
“That’s perfect! Ask him if he can make time for a few extra sessions with Luna and Clara? Luna says they need to improve their backhand skills to beat Rachel and her partner in the tournament at the end of the summer.”
His brown eyes glittered, and I knew he was about to tease me. “Feeling a little competitive about girls’ eight-year-old tennis, Val?”
“One”—I held up my pointer finger—“the word ‘girls’ in that sentence is completely irrelevant—”
He raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right. Absolutely irrelevant. I need to get better at that, being a girl dad and all.”
I fought the smile that had my cheeks tugging upward, both because of his lack of defensiveness and because him referring to himself as a ‘girl dad’ did something to my insides.
“And two”—I let my smile free—“I just want her to win, okay? Does that make me a bad person?”
“One,” he mimicked me, a smile appearing on his mouth at his own cleverness.
“There’s almost nothing you could say that would make me think you’re a bad person, and two”—he held up another finger, pausing for added effect—“in this specific instance, also no. I want her to win, too. I’ll text Jeremiah tonight. ”
The urge to kiss that smirk off his gorgeous mouth hit me like a sudden gust, unprompted. Undeniable.
“I was thinking about what you said the other day, how the town isn’t providing as much funding as you hoped, and it will take you that much longer to break even on your investment. What if you did a fundraiser?” I scanned Luke’s face for his reaction as he chewed.
“A fundraiser.” His expression revealed nothing.
I continued, undeterred. “Yeah, you know, sell tickets that cost more than the food, cash bar, an auction. Mimi calls them ‘parties for a good cause.’ She goes to one for the Martha’s Vineyard Preservation Trust every summer.
” This idea came to me when Mimi mentioned that specific fundraiser over dinner last night.
“I’m open to it, but I don’t know much about fundraiser planning. What do you think, Luna?”
Luna shrugged. She hadn’t spoken for a while. Her hands were tucked under her legs and her plate was clear. It was obvious she was waiting to be excused from the table to go continue watching the movie she started before dinner.
“Go ahead,” Luke said, gesturing toward the sliders.
“Thank you!” She popped out of her chair and took a step toward the door before pivoting quickly to grab her plate to bring inside.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Luke went on. “I’ve only ever gotten funding from business loans and investors.”
“We do know an event planner…”
“True. We could see if she thinks it’s something we could pull off and actually make money. I also don’t love asking people for money…”
“I understand. But Luke, no one is obligated to come or to donate anything, so if people choose to, then it’s because they want to. I think solving the seasonal worker housing issue is probably a pretty popular cause.”
Luke pursed his lips to the side, considering. After a moment he said, “Okay, let’s at least ask Francesca if she thinks we can pull something like that off. I’ll see if she’s free for lunch tomorrow.”
“Can I come? I mean, if that’s okay? I’ve been wanting to hang out with Francesca again and helping brainstorm ideas for an event sounds kinda fun.
My last day at Peters & Dowling is tomorrow.
” In fact, I planned to go to the post office and mail my firm laptop and phone back to Peters & Dowling LLP by noon.
“Of course. This is perfect, actually. She keeps asking me to give you her number, and I keep forgetting. She says she wants to be friends with you.”
“Really?!” I squealed. I liked Francesca, and I loved the idea of having a friend that lived on Martha’s Vineyard full-time.
“Yes, really.” Luke laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners. The orange hue of the sunset reflected off the angular planes of his face as he shook his head slightly.
My enthusiasm rang clear in my voice when I said, “I like this plan.”