Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dahlia woke up smiling under the bed sheet.
The sun poured in, drenching the space in light.
The covers were warm even though the room was still a bit cool from the brisk wind the night before.
She bit her lip, thinking about the gorgeous rainbow-colored sunset they’d shared after the brewery.
And how, in one look, he’d shattered her armor.
She knew she needed to get up and make coffee if she had any hope of making a dent in the lengthy to-do list today.
These things weren’t going to fix themselves, but she couldn’t peel herself from the bed and the urge to have a lazy morning.
Suddenly, a claw appeared on her leg. “Harry, is that you? Or have we been invaded by zombies?” She laughed, yanking the sheet off her head.
There was no denying it: Dahlia Newberry was in a good mood. A great mood!
She brushed the hair from her eyes and turned to face the wall.
Harry came over and licked her face, her cue to get up and take him out.
She wiped the slobber from her face. “Ugh, one more minute.” The morning rays highlighted the imperfections in the pine planks.
Dahlia’s eyes traveled to the charcoal sketch on the nearby wall; it was a barn in the middle of a cornfield.
That wasn’t their barn, and it wasn’t Lil’s piece.
It was most likely the work of one of her students.
Dahlia lay there staring at it, not understanding why Lil never hung any of her own paintings on the wall.
Just as Dahlia’s lids dropped again, she heard a loud knock at the front door. Noah always knocked at the back door. So, who would be showing up this early at her front door?
Immediately, Harry started barking. She threw on her cotton robe as he leaped by the door like a kangaroo.
She ran down the staircase and peeked through the dusty sheers.
“What?!” she squealed, not able to open the door fast enough.
“Are you kidding me? What are you doing here?” Dahlia threw her arms around the dark-haired beauty standing on her porch while Harry followed suit.
“I can’t believe it,” she said, holding her palm to her forehead.
“Are you surprised? I wanted to surprise you. Hi, boy.” Kara gave Harry a scratch as he slipped between her legs.
“Yes, don’t I look it?” Dahlia could feel her entire body shudder with excitement. “Come in, come in,” Dahlia said, looking for Harry, who was most likely on his way to Noah’s.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Dahlia asked Kara, her heart overflowing with joy.
“We have a big bash tonight in the Hamptons, but I wanted to see my favorite cousin first. Tony went ahead. I’ll meet him later in Amagansett.”
“I’m so glad you did.” Dahlia looked past her. “Where are the boys?”
“With my mom. She says hello, by the way.”
“Oh yeah, hi to her too.” Dahlia’s posture recoiled. Ever since she found out she was pregnant with Daisy, her Aunt Cathy wanted little to do with her. It was as if Dahlia had been abandoned all over again—this time for bringing shame to their perfect family.
“So where is he?” Kara asked, ogling the joint.
“Who?”
“McHandy,” Kara declared. “I didn’t interrupt anything, like a sleepover from last night, did I?”
“What? God, no!” Dahlia exclaimed with wide eyes.
“Honey, look at you. You need me.”
“What? Do I look that bad?”
“No, you’re naturally pretty, hon. And it always pissed me off because I work so hard to look this way.
” Her eyes narrowed as she pointed to her face.
The truth was, Kara always turned the heads and got the guy, with or without makeup.
Dahlia was the understated one who never believed a guy like Spence would be attracted to a plain Jane studyholic like herself. And apparently she was right.
Kara continued, “But you need me to remind you of how amazing you are. That’s why I came to give you a little in-person pep talk,” she said, walking through the tight hallway. “It still has that old smell you like.” She chuckled. “I’ll never, for the life of me, understand why you like that smell.”
“Because it reminds me of the past, the good old days.” Dahlia felt her breath hitch, missing the people in the good old days.
“If you say so,” Kara smirked.
Dahlia led her into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“I’d love a cup. Ferry coffee is gross, and I didn’t have time to stop for my morning Chai.”
“You poor thing. No Starbucks, huh?”
“It was too crowded, and I was anxious to see you. God, I’ve missed you!” Kara said, giving her a side hug. “I miss having you in the next town.”
“I miss it too. So, how was your Fourth of July party?” Dahlia asked, plugging in the percolator. “It will just be a few minutes.”
“Fun. Oh, Tony’s work friend was asking about you.”
“Oh? Who?” Dahlia’s posture perked.
“Simon, the tall British guy with the unusually nice smile.”
“He was?” Dahlia’s mouth hung open.
“Yup, he found out about you and Spence. And as a matter of fact, he’s going to that party tonight. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. You’ll come. It will be perfect; you can make McHandy jealous.”
Dahlia grew quiet. She felt her forehead wrinkle. She wondered if Kara could sense her hesitation.
“Just think about it. You can decide later.”
“I don’t know, Kara. I have so much to do, and I’m starting to get stressed. But it does sound fun.”
“Okay, what are you stressed about? Tell Doctor Kara.”
“What am I not stressed about? Getting the house in tip-top shape, finding the key before I leave … oh, and that job, they want me to start in less than a month. And I have to buy a whole new wardrobe.”
“And you told them you needed more time, right?” Kara leaned in and stared at her with wide eyes.
Dahlia shook her head and pursed her lips. The smell of fresh ground coffee permeated through the air, giving her a good reason to get the cups ready.
“Dahlia, you do know how insane this is?”
“I know, but I thought I’d lose it if I asked for more time. And I need this job and a change of scenery.” Dahlia knew she’d die a slow death if she didn’t find a new sense of purpose after Lil’s passing and her divorce.
“At some point, you might have to stop running and actually let people in.”
Dahlia’s cheeks grew warm. What did Kara know? Her life was privileged and perfect. “I’m not running. And I do let people in. Plus, Daisy is there, and Charleston is an amazing place to start over. That city has always felt like a second home.”
“I just mean that there are people here who love you. Maybe give them a chance.”
Like who? Essentially, there was no one left. “I know, Kara.”
“Don’t kill me for asking this, but do you even like gallery work? You were miserable at MoMA.”
“What? Of course I do. I had a cheating husband, a dying aunt, and a monster of a boss,” Dahlia declared, feeling her entire body now stiffen.
“Or is it more because it’s your connection to your mom? Maybe even Lil too?” Kara asked delicately, inching closer.
“Kara, that’s not fair.” But could she be right? No, Dahlia loved her job. Then why was she so unhappy there? Her eyes pinched shut as she remembered she still had to tell MoMA she wasn’t coming back in the fall.
“If I can’t be the one to challenge you with these things, then who?
This is your opportunity to figure out what you want.
You’ll never get this chance again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m crazy proud of you, especially for leaving, but I don’t want you to feel rushed or influenced.
You deserve for this next chapter to be epic.
” Kara smiled, holding her hand. “Please don’t be mad at me.
I love you, and I’m coming from a good place.
Plus, you can’t be too mad at me because I’m here to help you today, whatever you need.
I am your hired help until four,” Kara said with unwavering eye contact, clearly trying to reassure Dahlia.
“I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you. You’re like a sister in every way that matters,” Dahlia said. She wasn’t alone; she had Kara on her side, and that was everything. The problem was that Kara didn’t fully understand the stakes and how complicated it was for her.
“And sisters tell each other the truth. Right?” Kara asked.
“Right. But I’m not changing my plan. I don’t belong here beyond the summer, Kara.” Dahlia knew she didn’t belong there without her family. It would be too lonely. It would be unbearable.
“We’ll see,” Kara shrugged. “Now, where’s my coffee? I have a feeling I’m going to need it for what’s ahead.”
After hours of mulching and trimming in the front flower beds and catching up about Noah, Dahlia and Kara took a break.
They retired from the blazing midday heat to Lil’s studio with their ice-cold lemonades.
Dahlia checked on her oils in the cupboard, and Kara poked around the rustic space.
The wood creaked with every step, and a flowery medley was starting to overtake the scent of pine and dust.
“I never realized how talented Lil was,” Kara said, pulling a painting from the bin. “There are so many gorgeous botanicals here. She could have sold them online—you could sell them online.”
“No, I couldn’t.” Dahlia shook her head; she was 100 percent sure Lil wouldn’t want that. She was too private.
“Okay, but Lil did ask you to find a place for these, so what will you do? You can’t just let them sit in a storage unit with the rest of your stuff.”
“Honestly. I don’t know. This is just the tip of the iceberg of what’s stressing me out.” Dahlia’s chest tightened.
“That’s why you need to get laid,” Kara said.
Dahlia shook her head and then laughed. “It’s true.”
“Wow, you’re no longer in denial. This is legitimate progress.” Kara gave a crisp nod. “But back to the art. I have an idea: Why don’t you sell them as prints? I mean, look at all these lining the walls. It’s like Monet and van Gogh had a baby.”
Dahlia laughed. “I’m oddly impressed.”