Page 41 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
He took a sip and closed his eyes. ‘Aah, like nectar of the gods right now. What you looking at out here?’ Gabe said, taking a step back out on to the deck, peering at the books scattered across the table. ‘Ooh, cakes!’
‘Yes, I’m trying to decide what I fancy trying next. I thought maybe this fresh orange and passion fruit one?’
‘Well, you know where I am if you need anyone to taste it.’
‘I definitely will.’
‘I was hoping you might say that.’
I could have said the same thing.
‘So how’s it going with the house? I saw you’d painted the living room and moved some things around a bit. Looks good.’
‘Thanks. It’s going OK actually. I’ve had a bit of an idea about things actually.’ And I proceeded to tell him about the plan I had for opening up the downstairs living area and the folding glass wall.
‘That sounds amazing, Hol!’
‘Thanks! I’m quite excited now I’ve got it in my head. There’s a builder coming tomorrow to give me a quote, so it sort of depends on that really. Ideally I’d like to get it done as soon as possible.’
‘Oh … yeah. Yeah, of course. What will you do if he can’t do it in the time scale you want? Will you still sell?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it, maybe get an estate agent around to value it with and without the changes and then decide from there.’
‘Sounds like a sensible plan. Right, I’d better get home. Come on, Bry. Stop pestering the poor woman.’
‘Oh, he’s not a pest, are you?’ I said, turning to the dog who was nestled happily in my lap, and who frankly, I’d be quite happy to keep there. But I knew that I couldn’t. That nothing here was permanent. Every time I got caught up in the plans for the house, and the comfort I felt in Gabe and his pet’s company, I forgot that this wasn’t my ‘real’ life, and making attachments here probably wasn’t the best idea. Once I sold the house, I would of course still visit Wishington Bay to see my brother and his family, but this part of it, this house at the end of the bay, would belong to someone else, and Gabe and darling little Bryan would be someone else’s neighbour.
‘But your dad’s right,’ I said, lifting the dog down off my lap, much to his confusion, if the look on his face was anything to go by, which really wasn’t helping. ‘Time to go back to your own house.’
Bryan sat and refused to move.
‘Mate,’ Gabe said, shaking his head.
‘I’m sorry. Have I fussed with him too much? I don’t really know too much about dogs. Except that I like them, of course.’ I shrugged. ‘But I didn’t mean to cause problems for you.’
Gabe raised his eyes from the dog to me and held my gaze for a few moments. ‘You’re doing fine, Holly. Don’t overthink it. Bry’s just a bright little guy and knows a good thing when he sees it.’
‘I’m an “it”?’
He laughed. ‘That came out wrong.’
‘I should hope so.’
He bent, scooping the dog up, and tucking him up under his arm. ‘We’ll leave you in peace to plan your next culinary masterpiece.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure there are going to be any masterpieces created but thanks. I’m enjoying the process, which is a good thing, right?’
He paused. ‘You’re reading the book?’
‘I am. But by the look on your face, you clearly didn’t expect me to.’
‘Honestly, I didn’t know either way. I know you want to help yourself but I’m also aware it can seem daunting too.’
‘It is a little, but I’m finding the book interesting and possibly useful too, so thank you for the recommendation.’
‘You’re very welcome. Really.’
There was a pause and it went on just a little bit too long. ‘I should go.’
