Page 91 of That Reilly Boy
“I’m going to go through it again later,” Colleen says. “I need a notebook so I can mark down which other ones I want prints of.”
“No problem,” I tell her. “You can keep it for the week and then we’ll give it to Gin so she can choose her favorites.”
Colleen’s lips purse, but she keeps her opinion on that to herself. Unable to stand it anymore, I get up and go to the kitchen so I can check on Cara. I can see her out the window, playing fetch with Penny in the shade of an old elm.
It’s Penny’s version of fetch, of course. She loves sticks, like any dog, but she doesn’t like the sticks thrown very far. And she’s really only in it for the belly rubs and chin scratches she gets when she brings the stick back.
But the important thing is that Cara is laughing. If my mother’s reaction to that picture had made her cry, there’s no evidence from this distance.
I didn’t hear Colleen follow me, but suddenly she’s at my side, watching my wife play with my dog. “I’m so glad you two came over tonight. I enjoy having you so close by.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Her frown and the way she tilts her head cues me in to the fact I spoke too quickly, without thinking. For a second, I try to come up with a way to walk the statement back.
But then it hits me—like it or not, it’s time to start showing some cracks in my hasty marriage. After an intense few weeks of convincing our family and friends we were so madly in love we wouldn’t delay the wedding, and then the fake domestic bliss, it’s time to start convincing those same people we might have made a mistake.
“You know I have no desire to live in Sumac Falls, Mom. I don’t think you’re alone in hoping I’ll change my mind, but I’ve been clear about it. My home is in Boston.”
“I wish you’d just try it. You’ve always looked for the worst in this town.”
“The worst isn’t hard to find.”
“Not if it’s all you’re looking for,” she shoots back. “You focus so much on the people that didn’t like you—or didn’t like our family, actually—that you don’t leave room for the good memories. Especially the way this community rallied around us when your dad died. I couldn’t have gotten through it without help.”
“You were strong,” I tell her, because that’s what I remember. “You got me and Aaron through it, too.”
“I was strong because I had so many friends propping me up. And it wasn’t just the casseroles, Hayden. They say it takes a village, and the village of Sumac Falls made sure I knew I wasn’t alone.”
“I bet the Gamble family didn’t show up.”
“That’s one family. Plus, rumor had it at the time that Gin Gamble was spotted dropping some dollar bills into the collection jar the market put out to fund a gift certificate for us.” I must not do a good job of hiding my surprise, because Colleen laughs. “That’s my point. Even people who enjoy watching you fall down will give you a hand up if you actually hit rock bottom.”
I nod, but I don’t add to the conversation. It feels cruel to let her believe there’s a chance I’ll settle down with Cara in Sumac Falls and raise a family here. But the alternative is telling her the truth, which I can’t do.
The emotional fallout from my driving need to own the Gamble house is starting to weigh on me. I’m hurting people I care about—including Cara—and for the first time since I walked into her shop for a nail appointment Penny didn’t need, I can’t wait to get back to Boston.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Cara
“Okay, you. Neither of us are leaving here until we get this done, so how about you just surrender to the inevitable?”
Jazz blinks at me, her head tilted. The blue merle border collie is stunningly gorgeous, and one of the most intelligent and obedient dogs I’ve ever worked with.
As long as I don’t try to touch her feet.
She won’t nip at me. She doesn’t growl or show any signs of aggression. But she’s smart and squirrely, and doing her nails is a test of my patience and resilience. And her owner’s scheduled to return for her in five minutes. Just this once, I wanted to have her nails already done, but it’s not going to happen.
Jazz gives me a smug look that reminds me so much of Penny, I have to laugh. I miss that saucy little Shih Tzu so much when she’s in Boston.
I also miss her owner. I haven’t really heard from Hayden, and I assume it’s because I’m in the house alone. There’s nobody to track how often he communicates with his wife. Nobody’s watching our relationship. It makes sense on a logical level, but I still miss him. Living alone in the house for half the week, I miss having Hayden around even more than I miss my mother.
The bell rings and Jazz’s owner walks in. She gives me a hopeful look and I shake my head, making her sigh. A few minutes later, we’ve wrangled the dog into the hiking backpack they use for longer hikes with rough terrain. It leaves Jazz fairly immobile, but with her feet accessible. It’s still a battle, but I have the advantage. And luckily, her human doesn’t hold it against me and still tips generously.
After they’ve departed, I clean up and head for the market. It’s hard to muster the energy to shop and cook for one, but I also can’t live on cereal alone. I roam the aisles, searching for things that look good. It’s a bit of a novelty to be able to impulse buy fresh fruit and produce, thanks to all of the house-related expenses being transferred to Hayden’s name the day of the closing.
Taylor also sent me a credit card with my name on it, with a note that it was a joint account to be used freely, but I haven’t touched it. I don’t know how much Taylor knows about the status of our marriage—I assume a lot because somebody did that legal paperwork—but she knows joint actually just means Hayden’s money.
