Chapter Forty
Friday
It’s late morning on her day off when Maggie arrives in New Hope. A mist still hangs over the river. Last night, she left
a message for Belinda that she would be coming to town, that she’d like to see her.
Maggie parks at the inn, the same spot she pulled into one week ago exactly.
Inside, the familiar scent of the lobby hits her hard: Notes of cedar and coffee and pine give her a sharp pang of longing.
And it’s a specific longing . . . for Aidan. The intensity of the feeling is disturbing. She doesn’t have the emotional bandwidth
to deal with that right now.
Belinda is behind the front desk. She’s dressed in a red-and-black plaid cardigan with pearl buttons and bell sleeves. She
looks up and offers a small smile.
“Oh, dear. Maggie, I owed you a return phone call.”
“No, I owe you an apology.” Maggie feels better just seeing her. “I didn’t mean to leave without saying goodbye.”
“No apology necessary,” Belinda says. She doesn’t ask what she’s doing back in town.
“I was hoping we could get coffee. But since you’re busy, I can always walk around until—”
Belinda holds up one finger. She picks up the desk phone and dials. “Max, I need you to relieve me at the front desk.” There’s a pause, and then she says to him, “Really? Well, I have things to take care of too!”
Maggie is taken aback by the sharpness in her tone. She hasn’t heard Belinda raise her voice—not to Max, not to anyone. Belinda
hangs up, looks at her and says, “Where to?”
“We can just go to Bucks Tavern if that’s easiest.”
“I’ve a better idea. Let’s have a change of scenery.”
Maggie follows her outside, through the parking lot with a right turn onto Main Street. The last time Maggie followed that
path she was on the walking tour with Piper. How had that only been a week ago?
Two blocks down they reach Ferry Market, an old freight station that’s been converted into a buzzing food court. Belinda leads
Maggie from vendor to vendor, pointing out her options: Brazilian. Mediterranean. Pizza. A candy stall. Yet another charming
spot in New Hope. Maggie feels a surge of excitement.
She can’t wait to tell Belinda her idea.
Piper clasps Ethan’s hand, hoping she’s doing the right thing. New York City Hall is a grand-looking building in lower Manhattan,
but the corridor in the Office of the City Clerk is dull and colorless. Rows of gray cushioned benches line the walls for
waiting couples. The only decorations are municipal plaques and civic posters.
It’s not the place Piper envisioned them getting married, but in the wake of her mother’s toxic overinvolvement, the priority is moving forward.
She’s wearing a simple shirtdress she bought for their first date.
Next to Ethan, who’s wearing a suit and tie, she feels underdressed.
They seemed to have dressed for two entirely different events.
She wonders if she’s depriving him of a traditional wedding, something she never knew he might care about.
And it strikes her that she still has things to learn about the man with whom she’ll be spending the rest of her life, and vice versa.
It’s okay, it’s normal, and they’ll figure it out as they go. Together.
Two days earlier, when they got their marriage license, he’d seemed excited about their decision. But now that they’re waiting
in a blockish vestibule that feels like they’ve been summoned to jury duty, he’s clearly having second thoughts. But she’s
not having second thoughts, and so she doesn’t acknowledge the way he’s looking around as if trying to find an emergency exit.
“Inside the clerk’s office will probably be nicer,” she says. She reaches for his hand. “After today we can plan a party or
ceremony to include your family. Maybe right after New Year’s?”
“My family?” he says. “What about your family?”
She shakes her head. “Ethan, we’re here. We’ve talked about this. It’s fine.”
He looks unconvinced, but squeezes her hand. Then he stands up, phone in hand. “I’ll be right back.”
The Ferry Market seems like it’s always been there. It’s not shiny or artificial. Everything in New Hope seems just right.
And she imagines her future knit shop nestled on one of those intimate side streets, a building with black shutters and a
plaque at the front door detailing its history as a blacksmith’s. Some of the original loading dock remains, converted into
cozy nooks with benches and tables where Maggie and Belinda sit having coffee.
“This place opened eight years ago, but still feels new to me. At the time, some people weren’t happy about it.”
“Why not?”
“It was symbolic—the changing identity of the town.”
“This town is a special place,” Maggie says. “Belinda, again, I’m so sorry for running out like that on Sunday night. Things
with Piper just blew up and I had to deal with it.”
“Maggie, you certainly don’t owe me an apology,” she says, taking the lid off her cup and blowing gently into the steam. “I
was just hoping nothing was terribly wrong.”
“To be honest, things have been better.”
Belinda’s hazel-gray eyes are focused on her with kindness. And it gives her hope.
“I need to make some changes in my life, and realizing this, I thought of you and what you’ve accomplished by building your
life around your passion. I admire that so much. It hasn’t been something I’ve ever been able to do. And so instead, I put
all my focus into Piper. And I realize now I need to stop doing that. For both our sakes.”
Belinda sighs. “I appreciate that, but I think you’re giving me too much credit. I never had children, so I was never torn
between two things. You’re probably being too hard on yourself.”
Maggie’s phone rings. She glances at it with her persistent and unrealistic hope that Piper will reach out after all. She
jumps up: It’s Ethan.
“Belinda, I’m sorry—I have to take this.”
She holds up her finger to emphasize she’ll be just one minute, then walks outside of the clamorous food court, ducking around
the corner of the neighboring bookstore and pressing the phone to her ear.
“Ethan? Is everything okay?”
“Hi, Maggie. Everything is fine. But the thing is, we’re down at City Hall. Piper wants to get married today. So, here we are. And I just think that in spite of what’s going on between the two of you, she’s going to regret not having you here.”
Maggie’s stomach drops. She’s two hours away, and her mind shifts into high gear, searching for a way Ethan can possibly hold
Piper off until she gets there. But then she stops herself: If Piper wants to get married at City Hall today, Maggie needs
to respect that.
“Ethan, it’s incredibly kind of you to call me about this. And I know it’s not for me—that you’re doing it for her.” That’s
love. What more could a mother want for her child? “But Piper knows what she wants. Trying to interrupt that would be a mistake.
I learned that the hard way. So don’t you worry about it. Just . . . well, congratulations.”
“Are you sure?” he says.
She is sure. Although, when she ends the call, her heart is so heavy she’s momentarily disoriented. Despite what she said
to Ethan, she still wants to run back to New York. Instead, she goes back inside the marketplace where Belinda is waiting.
Maggie hasn’t even had a chance to tell her the idea yet.
“Sorry about that,” Maggie says, slipping back into her seat. Piper is getting married.
Piper is getting married!
Belinda sips her coffee, then leans forward.
“Maggie, whatever you’re dealing with back home, let me assure you that no one has life completely figured out. Certainly
not me.”
Maggie shakes her head. “Please, let me finish or I’ll lose what little nerve I’ve mustered.
” She takes a breath. “I’m thinking about moving to New Hope.
I want to do something with knitting . .
. maybe open a yarn shop. That might be a ways off, but in the meantime, I’d love to teach at your retreats if you’ll have me.
And then, if I’m able to open a yarn shop, we can find a way to create synergy between the store and your retreats.
We can expand your class offerings, even do some off-site at the shop.
I just think the possibilities are so exciting. ”
A strained silence settles over the table.
“Maggie,” Belinda says. “We’re selling the inn.”
She’s not sure she heard her right. “What do you mean?”
“Max wants to move back to Philadelphia.”
She’s shocked. It takes her a moment to recover.
“Is that what you want?”
“No,” Belinda says. “But there’s an offer on the table, and we could retire comfortably on it. Max doesn’t want to work forever.
It’s not fair for me to ask him to.”
“Have you tried?”
“Maggie.”
“I’m serious. What about your retreats? You’ve built so much here. It means everything to people. I saw it myself. Sheila’s
been coming here for years. Kalli and Laurel are going to make a tradition out of it. I was only a part of it for one weekend
and I saw the community you’ve built.”
Belinda sighs. “To be honest, I did try talking to Max about other options. But money is money, and I can’t hold him back.”
“So . . . you’re leaving New Hope.”
“I really don’t know, Maggie. Like you, I find myself at a crossroads. So, as you see—I don’t have things all figured out
after all.”
Maggie pushes her plate away. She can’t eat. As bad as she feels about the news, she imagines Belinda feels worse.
“I can’t believe this,” Maggie says.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I like your knit shop idea. You’d be great at it. And it would be wonderful for the town.”
Maggie shakes her head. “The knit shop idea doesn’t work without you.”
Belinda reaches out and pats her hand. “That’s very sweet. But of course it does.”
Maggie can barely swallow from the lump in the throat. She sees that Belinda too has stopped eating. Whatever Maggie has lost with this news, Belinda is losing more.
“Are you okay?” Maggie asks gently.
“No,” Belinda says, her eyes glassy. “But I’ll make do.”
Now Maggie feels just awful. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she says.
“You’re not the one upsetting me,” Belinda sniffs. “Please . . . stay over tonight. I know this isn’t what you came here expecting
to hear. But we can have a nice dinner together and I’m hoping you won’t feel the trip is a total loss.”
How can she refuse? But she has work tomorrow. And yet Elaine is the one who pushed her to start thinking in this direction.
Plus, Elaine is from New Hope. She knows of the inn. She’s the one who told her about the retreat in the first place. If anyone
will understand, it’s Elaine.
“Sure,” Maggie says. “I’ll stay.”
Piper is getting anxious. She knows that getting anything official done in New York City is a bureaucratic nightmare, but
it had been so easy getting the marriage licenses, she’d hoped they’d just be in and out—Mr. and Mrs. before noon. She’s eager
to say I do.
The waiting vestibule is getting more crowded with couples. Behind them, a baby wails in its stroller. A cell phone rings
despite the signs saying Please Silence Your Phones.
A nearby door leads to the ceremony room, and every so often, various clerks step out to call out names. Piper has been keeping
track, and she’s fairly certain they’re next.
“It’s starting to feel real,” Piper says, and Ethan squeezes her hand.
She hopes someone can take their photo—something better than just a quick selfie. It would be ironic if she had countless photographs of herself wearing clothes that meant nothing to her but not one of her in her bridal outfit. If she could even call it that.
Behind them, the door to the clerk’s office opens and someone calls out in a raspy voice with a heavy Brooklyn dialect, “The
Brandt-Hodges party?”
Piper and Ethan stand, and when she turns toward the office, she’s surprised to see a familiar face.
“Hannah Elise?”
“Piper?”
“What are you doing here?” they say in unison.
“You two know each other?” Ethan says.
So this is the bureaucratic day job Hannah Elise refused to talk about.
Hannah Elise steps out of the doorway, joining them in the waiting area. She’s wearing plain black pants and a striped button-down
shirt, her strawberry curls tamed in a bun. Only the silver nose ring reflects anything about her personal style.
“We met this weekend,” Piper says. “Hannah taught some of the workshops.”
Until she ran off with Gretchen. That was a whole story she hadn’t even gotten around to sharing with Ethan.
“You didn’t tell me you work at City Hall,” Piper says.
“You didn’t tell me you were getting married.”
Fair point. A gray-haired man pokes his head out of the clerk’s office door and barks at Hannah Elise to keep things moving.
“All right, let’s get you hitched.” Hannah Elise looks around the room. “Where’s Maggie?”
“Couldn’t make it,” Piper says.
Hannah Elise looks skeptical. “I thought you two were, like, best friends.”
The words are a blow. Up until this weekend, she thought so too.
Anyone who’d spent time with Piper and Maggie at the retreat would think the same.
She wants to go back to the way they were before Sunday night.
But there’s no going back. And really, she doesn’t have to explain herself to Hannah Elise, or anyone.
Still, she looks at Ethan. They’re doing the right thing, aren’t they?
Seeing her moment of hesitation, Ethan says, “Can you excuse us for just one minute?” He takes her by the hand and leads her
out of the room, back into the bustling, wide external corridor. He stops after a few feet and says, “I called your mother.”
She was not expecting this news and is taken aback. “I hope you’re joking.”
“No. I’m serious. A few minutes ago—when I took that walk. I called her, and I told her where we are and what we’re doing.”
Piper’s heart starts pounding. “And?”
“And she said she respects your decision and if this is what you want, she won’t get in the way.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Yeah. She did. I wasn’t going to say anything to you. But if you’re on the fence about getting married this way, I thought
you should know: We don’t have to rush because you think Maggie’s going to interfere or make it all about her. She’s not going
to. So, I’ll ask you one last time: Do you want to go through with this today?”
Piper doesn’t need to think about the answer. “I don’t.”
He’s right. There’s no real reason to rush. She needs to take a breath.
She needs to talk to her mother.