Page 19 of After this Summer
PEN: It’s going to be fine
BEAU: Easy for you to say
PEN: Probably, but this is definitely the right thing to do
The statement resonatesin my soul because I feel it too. Pen had helped me coordinate this trip without Indie knowing, which worked out well considering she’s the only connection I have to this part of Indie’s life.
Following the directions on the little screen, I navigate my rental car through the winding backroads. It’s different from Montana, fields as far as the eye can see and a kind of humidity I didn’t know existed.
It makes me second-guess the dark jeans I’d worn as well as the long-sleeved button-down I’d thrown on before getting in the car. I hadn’t wanted to wrinkle it on the flight, but the air conditioning can’t seem to get cold enough to counter the way sweat beads along my hairline.
Or maybe I’m just nervous about seeing Indie’s father.
It’s probably the latter.
Definitely the latter.
That’s confirmed when I pull into the driveway of a beautiful home, the white siding and columns on the front porch making it look classy.
And expensive.
Swallowing hard, I put the car into park and grab my phone from the cupholder before pushing open the door and stepping out onto the gravel. I retrieve the sign from the backseat—the one I’d intended to give her parents after the baby was born. I’d spent nights in the barn hammering out the horseshoes, and in this moment, I’m thankful I’d finished it so far in advance.
Shoving the keys into my pocket, I make the quick walk to the front door and knock, noting that the pots of flowersadorning the porch aredefinitelynot fake, the blooms bold and flourishing.
With two swift knocks, I step back and will myself not to fidget.
“Can I help you?” The woman’s voice is warm, her smile pleasant as she stares at me from the doorway. Her resemblance to Indie is clear, and I see our lives flash before me in an instant.
This could be us some day.
Pushing the thought from my mind, I square my shoulders and offer her my hand. “Mrs. Kade, my name is Beau Sterling.” When her eyes widen in surprise, and because I’m here to lay it all out, I add, “I’m in love with your daughter.”
“Wayne just went into town,he should be back any minute,” Dottie Kade tells me as she hustles around the kitchen. “If I’d known you were coming I would have made something fancier,” she says even as she piles a serving dish with pastries and miniature pies.
The space is bright and airy, the walls a light peach color with crisp white cabinets and a large marble island in the center of the room.
“This is really nice, Mrs. Kade. Thank you. I’m sorry to impose like this.”
She’s about to respond when the front door bangs open and a man’s voice fills the room. “Dottie, whose car is in the driveway?”
Standing, I turn and face the man who will be my biggest ally or adversary for what I hope will be the rest of my life.
“Mr. Kade, I’m Beau Sterling.”
I hold out my hand, and he eyes me a moment before returning the shake and exhaling heavily through his nose.
“I reckon you’re not here for the lemon tarts.”
“No, sir.”
“Why don’t I leave you two to talk?” Dottie says, bustling out of the kitchen, her voice a low murmur as she places her hand on her husband’s arm and says something that sounds an awful lot likebe nice.
When she’s gone, he looks at me and nods toward the door. “Let’s go for a walk.”
I’d expected as much, but it takes more than a little effort to make myself move, my boots heavy as they cross the stained wooden floor.
The sun is already blazing as we move across the lawn. It’s beautiful but it’s nothome.
