Page 35 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage
“It’s good to have you home, Major!” James Sullivan exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder.
“How was the trip back?” Frank Kelley cut in, his forever scowl still carved into his face.
“What have they been feeding you?” Henrietta Hudson, the retired baker, patted his cheek. “You’re too skinny.”
Jonah tried to keep up with all the questions thrown his way.
Vera Graves, ever in her black Martha’s on Main T-shirt and with her dark, gray-streaked hair pulled back, elbowed her way through the crowd and grabbed Jonah’s arm. “All right, everyone, back to your seats!”
Arnie Chamberlin, the pastor of the small island church, stood at one of the tables, Bible open in front of him, and it looked as if everyone had been sitting around him, hanging on his every word.
“Isn’t it Friday?” Jonah asked Vera as he added his coat to the already overstuffed rack by the door.
“Last time I checked.” Vera glanced at her watch.
“Is Pastor Arnie holding a church service? In Martha’s?” Jonah nodded to theCheck your guns, politics, and religion at the doorsign that hung over the door.
“Naaah. Everyone has been feeling a little cabin feverish. Pastor Arnie came in to work on his sermon for Sunday, and one thing led to another, and I think now they’re all discussing the woman at the well story.” Vera led Jonah over to the bar next to Bronte. “It’s a good day with Jesus and deep conversation, I always say.”
“Very true,” Jonah agreed, sliding onto the stool next to Bronte.
“I didn’t realize how famous you were.” Bronte bumped his shoulder with her own, a grin playing at her lips.
“Oh, I’m not fa?—”
“So, Major, how’s Germany been? You have to tell me all about it.” Pastor Arnie’s daughter, Jordi Chamberlain, brunette hair pulled into a low pony, slid onto the stool next to him with a mock salute, already talking a mile a minute. Not much had changed with Jordi since his last visit.
Jordi thrust a hand across Jonah in Bronte’s direction. “Hi, I’m Jordi. You must be Bronte, the author who’s staying at Holland’s house. Nice to meet you.”
Bronte returned the shake, nodding a quiet hello. Not that Jordi noticed Bronte’s quietness. She went right on with updating Jonah on her life, life on Jonathon Island, and asked him no less than fifteen questions.
“Jordi, would you leave Jonah and Bronte alone? I think Declan is needing a refill.” Vera put a glass of iced tea in front of Jonah with a wink.
“Jordi is Holland’s best friend.” Jonah leaned over and whispered to Bronte when Jordi finally took a breath as she slid off the stool and moved to check on the tables she waited on. “She must have had coffee this morning. I thought everyone had agreed to keep the caffeine away from her.” Jonah pulled two menus from where they were stacked and handed one to Bronte. “Coffee has done that to Jordi since I met her.” Which would have been the couple of months he’d been home after he’d graduated from college and before he’d left for basic. So long ago.
Jonah swallowed down the sudden wave of regret that came with the memory. Regret for missing so much of the lives of those he loved. Shrugging, he tried to focus on the chatter of conversation around him.
“Are you two ready to order?” Jordi reappeared, notebook in hand.
Bronte ordered soup and salad while Jonah scanned the menu—it hadn’t changed that much in the years since he’d been home.
“What about you, Jonah?” Jordi asked, tapping the pad with her pen.
After deciding on his typical order of hamburger and french fries, Jordi disappeared and Jonah turned to Bronte. He opened his mouth to ask her if her mind was ready to get back to work, when four more people stopped by to pat him on the back and let him know how proud they were of him. Their food arrived in front of them, but by the time Jonah got to his, it was cold, and Bronte’s was already almost gone.
“Sorry about that,” he said, turning to Bronte.
Bronte shrugged. “No worries. I feel like you’re the long-lost big brother finally home.”
A pang shot through Jonah’s heart. Why hadn’t he made it a point to come home sooner?
He knew the excuses he told himself, but now that he’d made it home, they seemed weak. He hated the lack of control he felt over his schedule, his life. He lived life away from every person he cared about. But if he wanted to change that, it would mean coming home from Germany and taking over his father’s practice, and he didn’t want that life either. Jonah cleared his throat before too much emotion could make its way up his chest. “Yeah, you’re probably right. How are you feeling after our walk?”
“I’m already sore and not looking forward to the hike home, but I’m feeling good. I think I’m about ready to dive into the Pike story again.” Bronte spun her glass of tea in her hands.
“We could probably see if someone can give us a ride home on a snowmobile.”
Bronte seemed to consider it for a moment before finally declining the offer. “It’s okay. I think the hike will do me good.”
