Chapter 29
Rebecca woke slowly, the autumn morning light already shining high and pale through the curtains. For a moment, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to risk breaking whatever spell this was.
Cort lay beside her on his back, one arm flung above his head, the other resting lightly across her waist as if he’d reached for her in his sleep and found what he was looking for.
His hair was a mess, darker at the crown where it still held a trace of damp, his lashes casting faint shadows against his cheeks.
He looked younger like this. Like the Cort she remembered from high school.
But this version of him was different, too. This version felt like hers.
She shifted slightly, and his fingers tightened at her waist, instinctive. He didn’t wake, but his mouth curved into the faintest smile, as if even asleep he knew exactly where she was, and he liked that.
She traced the back of her finger along his forearm, barely touching. His eyes fluttered open.
“Hey,” he murmured, voice rough, still halfway somewhere else.
“Hey,” she said back.
He smiled, warm and unguarded, and pulled her closer without a word, pressing his forehead to hers. “Did we sleep at all last night?” he murmured. “Not that I’m complaining…”
She laughed quietly.
“I’d make you breakfast,” she said, “but I don’t have any eggs left. Should we get up and walk to the market?”
—
As they walked down Main Street, her in her Fair Isle sweater and him in his plaid flannel jacket, she reached for his hand.
The autumn sun was warm on her face even as the crispness of the breeze nipped at her cheeks.
Cort’s thumb traced slow circles on her palm, and for a moment, she felt like she was floating, like she was wonderfully, perfectly happy.
A familiar voice just added to the happy haze she was in.
“Dad!”
For a moment, Rebecca’s heart lifted—she was always happy to see Pip. But he was with Melanie, and her stomach dropped as quickly as Cort dropped her hand, leaving it, and her entire body, feeling cold.
But that was nothing compared to the frost in Melanie’s expression when she looked at Rebecca.
It surprised her. Cort had said the divorce was amicable, that Melanie had a fiancé who lived in Milltown.
But this was not the expression of a woman who had no feelings about what her ex-husband did.
Her mouth was set in a hard line. She looked downright angry, and Rebecca felt seventeen again, in the worst possible way.
She fumbled through a greeting, but Melanie barely looked at her. “Can I speak with you, please?” she said to Cort. “Privately.”
Cort looked at Rebecca helplessly, but Pip, oblivious to the discomfort of the situation, tugged at Becca’s hand. “Becca, come look. The library changed their window display. Mrs. McGill made this week’s books all about enchanted fruits and vegetables.”
His eyes were wide with delight, and Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh.
“I didn’t realize books with enchanted vegetables was an entire category,” she said, letting Pip lead her down the sidewalk to look at the display.
There were pictures of Cinderella, and Jack and the Beanstalk.
Copies of James and the Giant Peach and The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake.
Like Water for Chocolate, The Night Circus, Garden Spells.
“My dad read me James and the Giant Peach at bedtime in the summer,” Pip said.
“It’s a great story, isn’t it?” Rebecca said.
“I gave it a hundred out of ten stars.”
Rebecca laughed, grateful for the distraction as, out of the corner of her eye, she watched Cort and Melanie locked in an intense conversation.
Melanie was talking and Cort was listening, his jaw set, his expression tense.
But then he started nodding, as if he had no choice but to agree with what she was saying, and Rebecca felt sick.
The miasma of the past settled around her like fog.
Melanie was beautiful in that effortless, willowy way she always had been.
The strawberry blond hair, natural confidence radiating from her posture.
Everything about her made Rebecca feel suddenly off-balance.
And it shouldn’t. They hadn’t seen each other in years, had never really been friends.
When Rebecca turned her attention back to Pip, she noticed a little boy had approached him to say hello. He was slightly familiar to Rebecca—and once she realized why, the sick feeling only intensified, because he was one of Heather Walsh’s sons. “Hey, Brady,” Pip said, friendly but detached.
“Wanna go to the park and play catch with my football?” Brady asked him. But Pip shook his head.
Brady rolled his eyes and retreated, and then Heather was approaching.
“I’ll leave those two to talk,” she said, inclining her head toward Cort and Melanie, the tone of her voice suggesting she knew exactly what they were discussing and why it was so intense.
“And go on, Pip. I’ll tell your mom you went to the park to play with Brady. ”
Reluctantly, Pip did as Heather instructed, while Rebecca found herself wishing he would stay.
“You seem to have settled into Bramley Hollow life nicely,” Heather said when Pip was gone. She was smiling, but it didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “When I saw you in the grocery store, you seemed so…lost. But look at you now.”
“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Rebecca said, trying to keep her tone firm. But all she sounded was defensive, and Heather clocked it.
“No need to take offense. I just mean you’ve got the diner all decorated and looking great, and you’ve reconnected with an old friend.”
“Right,” Rebecca said, her eyes on Cort and Melanie again. Melanie’s hand was brushing Cort’s arm now, as she spoke in low, urgent tones. Even from here, Rebecca could see the tension in Cort’s shoulders, the way his jaw tightened again.
“You know why she’s upset, right?” Heather said.
“Heather, I really need to discuss this with Cort, not you.”
But Heather ignored her. “She’s still a very close friend, so I know. She and Cort have always had a deal about introducing new partners. And Cort sort of blew past the start line with you. A sleepover, Rebecca? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
Rebecca frowned. “It wasn’t like that. We slept in the yard; we had to keep the giant pumpkin warm.” In her ears, her words sounded absurd, like she was making up a story.
Heather shrugged. “I’m just saying what I heard. How long have you and Cort been…reconnecting? You seem to be moving awfully fast.”
“We’re just friends,” Rebecca said automatically. The words felt hollow and false—because they were false. Why would she say they were just friends?
“Well. Cort’s always been a charmer. And a fast mover.”
Rebecca flinched, an involuntary movement. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing specific.” Heather shrugged. “Just that he has a pattern, you know? Swept up in the romance of things, makes promises he can’t keep. Poor Melanie learned that the hard way.”
Rebecca glanced toward Cort and Melanie, still deep in conversation.
“Of course, you probably have your own exit strategy,” Heather continued lightly.
“You always have. Which is another issue. Pip clearly adores you, and you’ll be gone in a few weeks.
That won’t be easy for him.” Heather’s eyes were narrowed, and yet, to Rebecca, they seemed to contain something other than concern for her friend, for her son.
She was enjoying this, she realized. She had never gotten over being the kind of person who thrived on drama.
But still, what Rebecca hated most about this conversation wasn’t the idea that in a perverse way, Heather was delighted by it: It was that Heather wasn’t wrong.
She and Cort hadn’t thought any of this through.
And now, as Cort said goodbye to Melanie and began walking toward her, she could see in his guarded expression that he was thinking the same.
Heather stepped back. “I’d better get to the park and make sure no one has concussed themselves yet. See you around!” And she waved and walked away like she hadn’t just dropped an emotional anvil into Rebecca’s lap.
“Everything okay?” Rebecca asked Cort carefully when they were alone.
He didn’t answer right away. But she knew it wasn’t good. It was amazing how, in just a few minutes, everything could change.
“We should talk,” he said. “Not here.”
Her heart felt as heavy as stone.
“Let’s go back to the diner.”
They walked in silence, through fallen leaves that had, just days before, been brilliant gold and red and were now faded. Everywhere she looked, all Rebecca could see were endings.