Chapter 22
We’re both asleep on the couch by the time Tomasz pulls into the driveway. It’s the beam of his headlights that wake me, sweeping over the front of the house. Louise doesn’t stir, so I
drape a blanket over her, and creep upstairs to my bed, leaving them to talk.
The next morning I wake early and go for a run.
It’s the best one I’ve had in weeks. Months maybe.
And I barely notice the time pass as I do a second loop through the town, only stopping when Louise calls me home for some celebratory pancakes, and who am I to say no to that?
Both she and Tomasz are ecstatic, barely able to keep the smiles off their faces, even when they both swear me to secrecy until they know everything’s okay with the baby.
Their happiness distracts me from the whirlwind of the day before and it’s not until that evening when I take advantage of the good weather to go for a stroll that I remember what Luke had said about talking to Beth.
The reason I remember is because I meet her outside the café just as she’s closing up and at the sight of me she stops and she stares and I know he did it.
And I actually feel a little scared. As in clammy-hands, stomach-twisting scared.
All I want to do is turn and run away, which is ridiculous. I’ve faced scarier people than Beth.
Except I haven’t, have I?
Because the people in the office were nameless, smirking men and part of my whole thing there was the element of surprise. No one expects the small Irish girl to stand up to them, to talk back.
But this is different. This is Beth. I know Beth. I like Beth. And instead of being a friend to her, I broke her heart and betrayed her confidence and now I don’t even know how to say I’m sorry.
The moment I open my mouth to try she turns and walks away and my heart drops, disappointment and guilt flooding through me, but she barely takes two steps before she stops, whirling to face me again.
“You go,” I say when neither of us says anything.
“I talked to Luke,” she says. “About everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner. I’m just so embarrassed.”
I stare at her. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“But just the thought of you feeling guilty for liking him and that I might have been the reason that you two didn’t try and be together is horrible .”
“Beth—”
“I mean, that’s what I get for not thinking before I speak. I just talk, talk, talk and I’m so sorry you didn’t think you could—”
“Would you stop?” I snap. “Just for once in your life would you stop being you?”
She pauses. “I don’t understand.”
“Stop being nice and apologizing to me when I should be the one saying sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Beth!”
She claps a hand over her mouth. “I can’t help it,” she says, her voice muffled.
“I’m the bad person here,” I remind her. “I’m the one who should feel guilty and bad and awful. I’m the one saying sorry.”
“And I forgive you.”
“No,” I groan. “You have to yell at me. You have to be mad.”
“I’m not a very yelly person.”
My hands go to my hips as I glare at her. Then I realize I’m glaring at her and I stop. “And I’m not a very good apologizing person.”
“You’re really not,” she says gently.
“Well…” I glance around, at a loss. “Do you want to get a drink?”
She looks uncertainly toward the café. “I could open back up, I guess.”
I shake my head. “A real drink,” I say, and two minutes later we’re sitting in one of the back booths of Pete’s with two glasses of wine between us.
“I didn’t mean to say anything to him,” I say as soon as she’d taken her first sip. “I know that’s probably hard to believe but we were arguing and I was so mad at him and it just came out.”
“He told me how upset you were.”
“I thought you’d be furious at me.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Why?”
“Because I…” I gaze at her, flustered. “Because we kissed! I kissed him. You should know that. It wasn’t Luke at first. I initiated it. Not him. I’m to blame.”
“But honestly, Abby, it’s not like we were together or I had some sort of claim over him.
I knew he didn’t feel the same way about me.
I’ve always known. But I didn’t care. There’s not a lot of people to choose from around here and it’s not like I have the time to put myself out there and meet someone who isn’t in a one-mile radius.
He was the perfect excuse for me. Here was a guy I could tell myself I had a crush on and then I wouldn’t have to risk everything again for someone new. ”
“You mean like you did with Ross?”
“I tend to follow others,” she says. “Everyone thinks I’m a free spirit but I’m not. I’m a barnacle. I latch onto people. If people were boats,” she clarifies.
“I get it.”
“I followed Ross. I followed him all the way out here and when he left I was stuck because no one came along and picked me up. So I latched onto Luke.”
“But you still have feelings for—”
“I never said anything to him. Not once. And I don’t know if you’ve met me, but I say a lot of things to a lot of people.
I’m not shy when it comes to people I like but I didn’t say anything to him because I knew that my feelings were…
not that they weren’t real but that they were a reaction to my surroundings.
And I liked how it was between us. I liked having him as a friend.
Saying something would ruin that and that terrified me. ”
“So I ruined it for you.”
“ No ,” she says with a small smile. “Would you stop beating yourself up? It was the first thing he said to me. That he didn’t want anything to change between us.
He was really sweet. As usual,” she adds with a roll of her eyes.
“I mean, yes, will I still look at his butt sometimes? Of course I will. But he listed all the ways we would be terrible together and I’ve got to say he makes a convincing argument. ”
“He didn’t.”
“I don’t know if I should be insulted that he thought that much about it but I appreciate it nonetheless.
” She smiles. “His main point was that he’s too structured for me.
That between his course and the café and his parents he blocks out his day by the hour.
That it’s the only thing that can clear his mind.
He even schedules in his downtime. Can you imagine that? ”
“No,” I say, taking a long, long sip of wine.
“He said I need someone who’ll drop everything at a moment’s notice and take me to Paris. Or go with me if I want to sell the café and move to Brazil.”
“Because you live intuitively.”
“I do. And my intuition tells me that he’s right. And that the two of you would make a pretty good thing.”
I say nothing, trying to ignore how happy her words make me.
“I was just so obtuse ,” she continues. “I mean it’s obvious now that I think about it. You should have seen him the day you first came to the café. He was so rattled. I mean, as soon as you left you were all he could talk about.”
“Really?”
“Well, he didn’t say anything good. It’s more that he wouldn’t let it go.
He wouldn’t let you go. Eventually, Ollie had to tell him to shut up, which is not a very Ollie thing to do.
I think that spooked him. And then later he always did one of two things when you showed up.
He’d either magically appear or run up the stairs like a frightened rabbit.
I should have put two and two together.”
“So you’re not mad at me for spilling your biggest secret?”
She raises a brow. “You think a crush on Luke was my biggest secret?” she asks, and I smile. “Can we stop talking about it now?” She pouts. “It can just be a thing we laugh about five years from now from the headquarters of my food empire.”
“Is that your new plan?”
“It’s what Jess seemed to think. She left me with some very detailed marketing plans.”
“That sounds like her.”
Beth sits back, the giant silver earrings she’s wearing jingling with the movement. “And are you going to tell me how your interview went or are we going to do what I used to after mine, which is pretend they never happened?”
I laugh. “The interview went fine. They said someone would get back to me in a few weeks, but who knows.”
“It’s so weird to think that your life could change again so quickly. Just like that.”
“I know.”
“I wonder what it would be like if you stayed,” she muses. “I’d probably have to convince you to be my business partner.”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about owning a business.”
“No, but you’re confident.”
“So are you.”
“I have a different kind of confidence,” she says ruefully. “Don’t think I don’t know that. I have optimism. You have drive. It’s very different. But I don’t think even you could save me.”
“With the café?” I frown. “Are things going badly?”
“No,” she says. “Yes. It’s pretty simple to explain. Outgoings are high and incomings are low. I’m losing money every day now.”
“There must be somewhere you could cut costs. Maybe Luke could—”
She shakes her head, cutting me off. “Luke’s already given me a huge discount on the space, not to mention free labor.
He makes a show of helping out as if I’m doing a favor to him but we both know it’s because I can’t afford to bring on anyone else.
Do you think he gets up early on a Sunday morning out of the goodness of his heart?
He says he gets free coffee but he’s usually a one-cup-a-day guy and as you can see from his stomach he doesn’t exactly pack away the carbs.
” She sighs. “Ollie’s already doing too much.
Plus she never asks for a raise and it’s not like she gets any tips.
I just thought the village would get behind it, you know?
I thought they’d be excited about somewhere new.
Everyone’s always complaining that nothing opens. ”
“You sound like you’re thinking about closing.”
“That’s because I am. I thought about a fundraiser but people only have fundraisers for places they actually like.”
“Beth,” I protest.
“It’s true! And I’m sad about it. Of course, I am.
And not just because it’s my money. I mean,” she grimaces.
“It’s mostly because it’s my money. No one likes to be broke but if I pull the plug now it won’t be too bad.
At least I won’t get into any more debt.
And the more I think about it, the more I ask myself, would it be so bad to let it go?
To see through the summer season and then close up shop?
I read that a lot of big-time Wall Street guys won’t even look at you until you’ve got a couple of failed businesses under your belt. ”
“That’s true. It’s experience.”
“So that’s what I’m going to chalk it up to. I tried my best and I failed. More importantly, I failed without dragging anyone down with me. Which is more than a lot of people can say.”
“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” But I have to admit I’m impressed by her words. By her resolve. “I don’t think you’re a barnacle, Beth.”
“No?”
“No,” I say. “I think you’re the ship.”
“And I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She peers slyly into her almost empty glass. “You still want to make amends?”
“All week if that’s what it takes.” And I slide out of the booth to get another round.