Chapter 10 #2
Stephanie nodded. “You know,” Stephanie said, swirling her wine, “when that song first came out, I thought it was about getting old. About time slipping away.”
April leaned back in her chair. Everyone watched Stephanie with open affection.
Stephanie went on, her voice strong and sure. “But the older I got, the more I realized it’s about standing in the center of your life as everything seems to fall apart and surviving the landslides happening all around you—and maybe letting them change you without breaking you.”
She unfolded her legs and stood, slowly, still graceful. “I remember thinking as a girl that the teenagers next door were so old. Then I was a teenager, and I was surprised at how young and awkward I felt, like a baby deer on roller skates.”
Laughter rippled from a few of the women nearby.
“In my twenties, I thought my parents were ancient. Responsible. Wise. Then I hit their age and realized I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
I still didn’t feel old. Now I’m older than my granny when she passed and I feel younger than I thought I would when I got to my seventies, despite the aches and pains.
” Stephanie tapped her forehead. “Up here? Still young.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “And in here? Still wide open.” Stephanie smiled, mischievous.
“Still wild enough at seventy-six to spontaneously kiss my doctor and talk him into being my boyfriend.”
April snorted into her wine.
“The truth is, ‘old’ just keeps moving the goalposts. It stays ahead of you—if you’re lucky. I hope I never catch up to it.”
“I don’t think you ever will,” Ellie said softly.
“Damn right I won’t.” Stephanie walked toward the kitchen island. “I’m hitting the desserts. All this wisdom burns calories.”
Laughter broke the quiet spell, but the feeling lingered in April—a kind of tender awe that made her feel seen. How many times had her world crashed down around her? She stood up and turned for the door.
“Are you leaving?” Ellie asked, looking concerned.
“No, I just need some air for a minute.”
“Good,” Wren said as she sliced the pie April brought. “Because we haven’t grilled you yet on your date with Shane.”
April’s head turned so fast she was surprised her neck didn’t break. Before she could speak, Rochelle jumped in.
“I never said April was on a date, just that she ate lunch with Shane at Riversong.”
Wren put her hand on her hip. “Exactly. A date.”
Nope, nope, nope. As Rochelle said,” April turned her stare on Rochelle, whose cheeks pinkened up, “it was not a date. I was just thanking him for—”
Do not tell them your son thinks your life is in danger. Not right now.
“—showing Kevin the new puppies at Watchdog. You know how Kevin is with Pete and the other dogs.”
“And how he is with Shane,” Wren just couldn’t help but add. “It’s so sweet.”
April loved Wren to death, but right now, all she wanted to do was strangle her friend. It wasn’t Wren’s fault though. Wren didn’t grow up in Colorado; she didn’t know all the history. Rochelle didn’t, either. They meant well, but with Claudia here, their timing couldn’t have been worse.
“Save me a piece of pie,” April said as she grabbed the doorknob and escaped outside.
She set her wine down and gripped the railing around the porch like the house was about to take off into the air and took deep breaths.
She was sorely tempted to do an Irish goodbye and sneak off to her car, but she’d left her purse inside.
The mountain air had cooled down from the afternoon, soft and pine scented.
She leaned on the porch railing until she got her breathing under control.
She sipped her wine slowly, watching bees hover around bright flowers in Ellie’s garden.
Her nerves had mostly settled—until the screen door creaked open behind her.
Claudia stepped out and joined her at the rail with a quiet sigh. “Beautiful out here,” she said.
“Hard to beat,” April replied, careful to keep her tone neutral.
For a moment, they stood in silence. Claudia’s manicured nails clicked lightly against her wine glass. “I’m glad I had the chance to meet the woman who has Yvonne Foti so upset.”
April nearly dropped her glass. “I…” An apology was on the tip of her tongue, even though Yvonne didn’t deserve one.
Claudia glanced over, lips twitching. “Everyone assumes we’re great friends because she confides in me. We’re not. Yvonne just likes to hear her own voice and I’m a good listener.”
April straightened. “I—wow. That’s—” She cleared her throat.
Claudia gave a soft, dry laugh. “Surprising?” Claudia turned toward her then, glass cradled lightly in her hands. “Let me be very clear. I’ve never liked the Fotis. They are the sort of people who say ‘bless your heart’ while they poison your tea.”
April snorted. “You’ve got that right.”
Claudia gave her a quick grin before continuing. “Yvonne wasn’t always that way, but she married a man who enjoys power a little too much. And Yvonne echoes him sometimes.” She shook her head. “Cruelty in pearls is still cruelty.”
April’s mouth had gone dry. “So Yvonne’s upset at me because…”
“Because Shane won't talk to Daniel. Shane’s been trying to convince her to leave,” Claudia said quietly.
“Has been for a while. He doesn’t bring up his father directly—not anymore—but he makes it clear that he won’t come home, won’t even set foot in the same room until she walks away from that man. ”
“What do I have to do with any of that?”
“Yvonne says you’re the reason he’s digging in. Shane adores you.” Claudia said it like it was fact, not a guess.
April’s spine went rigid. She shook her head. “He doesn’t.”
“He does, April. Yvonne doesn’t approve. Shane told her he won’t introduce Yvonne to any future grandchildren if she doesn’t change her attitude.”
April set her glass down carefully before she dropped it. She stared out into the trees without seeing them, heart hammering. It was one thing to have Shane flirt with her—he could flirt with any woman and not mean anything by it—but to know that she was still causing problems with his family?
He won’t introduce Yvonne to any future grandchildren. He’s standing up to his father. Because of me.
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me. I’m no threat to her. And especially his father.”
Claudia’s tone softened. “I disagree. Frankly, from what I’ve seen, I think you’re very much a threat. You’re exactly what Shane needs—someone who doesn’t play games and doesn’t back down. Someone with a spine.”
That got a bitter laugh from April. “If that had been true, I wouldn’t have left Lyons.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Claudia’s voice was gentle, but it held steel. “I don’t know the whole story. But I’ve watched Shane navigate the kind of childhood that leaves scars. You gave him hope once. And if I’m not mistaken, you might be doing it again.”
April’s heart leapt, the traitor.
“And I can see that he gives you hope, too,” Claudia said.
And maybe a reason to stop running.
“Give him a chance. No, give yourself a chance.” Claudia clinked her glass softly against April’s. “We should have lunch sometime,” she said with a smile before she slipped back inside, leaving April staring out into the deep forest.
The porch light flicked on as April pulled into the drive, the laughter from Ellie’s cabin still clinging to her like warmth from a fire.
Her little white house glowed against the dark like it was glad she’d come home.
For once, she saw it the way her dad always said she should—not as something small she had to apologize for, but her little fortress.
The crooked porch rail just looked lived-in tonight, not lacking.
For once, she didn’t feel like she was racing home to put out another metaphorical fire. She’d checked in on Riversong. The espresso machine had held it together until closing time. Kevin was excited to tell her about his day.
The night air smelled strongly of pine sap and willows from the river as she walked from the car to her front door.
She kicked off her shoes, hung her cardigan on the hook beside the door, and caught her reflection in the window: hair a little wild, cheeks still flushed from laughter, a small smudge of strawberry pie on her wrist. She looked… happy.
That realization startled her enough to make her laugh out loud.
Not bad, Taylor. You survived an afternoon with Claudia Behr.
She made her way to her bedroom, replaying the afternoon.
Frankie’s glow. Wren’s easy humor. Ellie looking radiant, cradling Star, while Claudia—still crazy to think she’s Bear’s mother—was now a potential ally.
It had thrown her off balance in the best way.
Maybe she didn’t have to keep proving she was more than the girl who ran.
Maybe I already have.
Of course, the girls had noticed her and Claudia’s absence.
April figured that Arden—who had grown up here—clued Wren and Rochelle in on the old dynamics while they were outside.
No one mentioned Shane, though Wren’s wink and Rochelle’s knowing grin had both been light-hearted, they left April blushing anyway.
They looked the way women do when they already know the truth you’re still pretending not to know.
She opened the bedroom window a crack to let in some fresh air.
Her room still smelled sweetly of the vanilla crème candle she’d lit that morning.
Outside, the river murmured low and steady like a wise old friend.
She emptied her lucky purse onto the bed.
The old Louis Vuitton pattern still gleamed under the lamp as she transferred her things—lipstick, receipts, keys, wallet, breath mints—into her everyday purse.
She slid the purse into its dust bag and placed it high on the closet shelf where it belonged—relic and reminder both.
April’s phone buzzed. Her pulse did a traitorous skip when she saw Shane’s name.
Ten-minute warning. Pizza inbound from R66.
April grinned. Pizza from Route 66, which they’d loved in high school, especially the wings.
Had he picked it for nostalgia—or just convenience since it was close by?
She typed back a simple Got it, but her fingers hesitated over the screen a moment longer than necessary before sending it.
Did her message sound short? How did she want to sound?
What did she want?
April sat on the edge of the bed, phone in her lap.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Shane’s face when he’d told Kevin he was right.
The way his voice had softened around her son’s name.
The way her pulse had tripped like it used to when he smiled at her whenever she showed up for his math lessons—different from the ones he gave her at school, where people would see and judge.
He’s not that boy anymore.
And she wasn’t the girl who’d waited at a bus station, hope mixed with worry that he’d stood her up. Her chest ached now with the same nervous hope.
The way Shane talked to Kevin with genuine respect, how he never made promises he couldn’t keep. Kevin glowed around him. That used to scare her, the thought of her son latching on to someone who once walked away.
He adores you.
Enough to stand against his parents’ disapproval.
And, there was the matter of Riversong, and what she’d discovered when she’d taken over the bookkeeping once she came home.
The ache in her chest eased.
She returned to the front room in time to see headlights sweep across the yard. Gravel crunched under heavy tires and she recognized that engine anywhere—the deep, steady rumble of a Watchdog SUV settling into her drive.
April smiled before she could stop herself. She could hear Kevin’s eager, non-stop chatter and hoped he hadn’t driven Shane crazy. Pete’s bark followed a few seconds later, muffled but eager.
“Right on time,” she whispered, brushing a hand through her hair as she headed for the door.