Out in the Country (5 page)

“Of course I do!
We’re partners, Jess... at least we were going to be. It makes sense to be partners now--if we do this at all. Frankly, I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“You’d be fine,” Jessica told her. “I can cook and plan menus and tell a good restaurant from a bad one, but when it comes to the actual day to day...” She shook her head, biting her lip. “Maybe it’s better the way things turned out.”

“You don’t mean that," Lynne countered robustly. "Jess, you could have run that hotel with one hand tied behind your back.” She saw her friend’s face start to crumple, and quickly she added, “but we don’t need to dwell on that. Let’s think about this one. There’s a future here, Jess. For you, for me, for the house itself.”

Jessica sniffed loudly as she bustled behind the kitchen’s wooden slab work top and began organising the eggs and bacon Lynne had got out of the fridge. “I don’t know why I’m falling apart now,” she said with a shaky laugh as she deftly cracked six eggs one-handed into a bowl. “I’ve held it together so far.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Lynne replied quietly. “You don’t need to hold it together for my sake.”

“I’m holding it together for my own,” Jess told her frankly, her eyes on the frothy yellow mixture she was stirring. “I’m afraid if I fall apart, I may not come together again.”

“Oh, Jess.” Lynne laid a hand on her friend’s arm, so Jessica was forced to still. “I know how that feels. It’s how I felt when Adam died."

"I'm not grieving like you were."

"Yes, you are. You're grieving the death of a relationship. And I know how that feels." She paused, remembering those first terrible days after Adam's death. "It's so sudden, and you can’t even get your head round it at first. It’s like you’ve been looking at a map for so long, you know all the destinations and landmarks, and then someone switches it on you, and you don’t know where you are. Everything is so terribly strange.”

“Yes,” Jess agreed quietly, her voice holding a telltale wobble, her eyes still on the eggs, “and the truth is I don’t much care for the map I’ve got.”

Lynne squeezed Jess’s arm. “Then let’s throw it out and draw ourselves a new one.” She dropped her hand from Jess to sweep it in a grand gesture encompassing the cozy kitchen, the entire house, the inn she knew it could be... in her bones, just like the house’s bones. “We’ve got a wonderfully blank page here, Jess, and we can draw on it as we please. Why don’t we? You said you wanted to be--what was it?--at forty-six.”

“Ridiculous,” Jess said with a little smile and a sniff. “And I’m almost forty-seven.”

“Then let’s be ridiculous. Let’s have fun.” Lynne heard the ringing sincerity in her voice and realised how much she meant what she was saying--how much she wanted it for both Jess and herself. “Let’s
do
this.”

Lynne held her breath, waiting for her friend’s answer, but Jess didn’t get a chance. Molly came into the kitchen still dressed in her pyjamas, her hair a wild tangle, smiling sleepily, and the moment was broken.

“Hi, Molly,” Jess said brightly. “Fancy an omelet?”

The rest of the morning passed in a happy whirl of activity as everyone breakfasted on Jess’s fantastic omelets (‘we could offer these specially on Sundays’, Lynne whispered) and coffee before readying for church.

By the time they were ready to leave the house, a pale, uncertain sun had broken from behind a thick bank of clouds to shine weakly on the damp earth, the sidewalks blanketed with wet leaves.

Everything smelled and felt fresh and new, and it made Lynne’s heart sing. She hadn’t felt this good in
a while
, she realised as they walked down Hardiwick’s main street to the white-steepled Congregational meeting house, the kind of timeless building that graced nearly every New England green. She hadn’t felt this good even when she’d made the decision to join Jess in Scotland, she acknowledged. She’d been excited about that opportunity, but there hadn’t been the innate sense of rightness--of things coming full circle--that she felt now, starting a new life in Adam’s old house.

The church was nearly full by the time they arrived, and Lynne saw with a little glow of pride that between them all they filled an entire pew. She watched as Kathy and Graham greeted friends before the service started, wondering at all the new faces and if she would get to know everyone, if they would become friends. If she took over the house, Hardiwick would become her home. It was a strange and, after twenty-five years in Manhattan, not an unwelcome thought.

“Good morning Kathy. Graham.” A tall, strapping man with salt and pepper hair ambled over to their pew, nodding at everyone in greeting. “Hello, Lynne,” he added, and with a jolt Lynne recognised him. He was John Tyre, Adam’s best friend from childhood. She hadn’t seen him since Adam’s funeral.

“Hello, John,” she said, smiling. “It’s good to see you.”

“You don’t come to Hardiwick often,” John noted, and before Lynne could make a reply, Kathy said mischievously,

“That might be about to change!”

John’s eyebrows rose in silent inquiry, but Lynne just gave a little shake of her head. She was hardly at the point of confiding in her fledgling plans, not even to Adam’s best friend from school days. John had been Adam’s best man at their wedding, but they’d seen each other so rarely since then Lynne felt she hardly knew him.

“Why don’t you have brunch with us after church, John?” Kathy asked. “We’re going to The Mountain High Café.”

Lynne glanced at Kathy in surprise, for this was news to her. John, she realised, had noted her surprised look, and after a considering moment smiled easily. “I’d like that, Kathy. Thanks for the invitation.”

The service was about to start, and Lynne watched John walk back to his own pew--he was alone--before she settled back into her seat and searched for her hymnal.

After the service everyone milled around in the fellowship hall over coffee and muffins. John walked directly over to Lynne.

“So what brings you to Hardiwick?”

“We’re here to celebrate,” she answered. “It’s Kathy and Graham’s fiftieth wedding anniversary.”

“Of course!” John slapped his forehead. “The pastor mentioned it last week--there was
a party for them on Saturday night.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.”

“I did too,” John replied wryly. “I had a call out.”

John, Lynne knew, was chief of the area’s fire department. “I hope it wasn’t anything too serious.”

“A house fire, but nobody was hurt.” He paused, and Lynne tensed for the question everyone felt compelled to ask her at some point. “So how are you doing, really?”

Really. It implied that she hadn’t told the truth, that she was hiding something. Lynne pushed down the prickle of annoyance. John, like so many others, was just showing his concern. “I’m fine, John. Doing well, actually.” She glanced past him to where Jess was nursing her second cup of coffee in the corner, looking a bit lost. “Come meet my friend from Scotland, Jessica MacCready.”

She placed a hand on John’s sleeve, conscious for a moment of the crispness of his shirt and the underlying strength of his arm. She hadn’t touched a man--any man--in a long time. Disconcerted, she removed her hand and walked over to where Jess was standing. “Jess, this is an old friend of Adam’s, John Tyre. John, Jess.”

Jess smiled, shaking her dark hair back from her face, and John smiled back easily, extending one large hand for her to shake. “Pleased to meet you. Sometimes I forget Lynne is Scottish. She’s lost all her accent.”

“She’s been in this country a long time,” Jess agreed, her own gentle burr noticeable.

“Some would say the Big Apple is a country unto itself,” John joked. “I’m not much of a city person, myself.” His gaze slid speculatively to Lynne, although he made no further comment.

After a moment of only slightly awkward silence, Kathy came over, smiling brightly. “Everyone ready? If we leave now, we can beat the rush to the café.”

The clouds had given way to bright autumn sunshine as they walked down Main Street to the bistro Lynne had spied on her drive into town.

“The Mountain High Café,” she said, eyeing the breezily scripted sign and the chalkboard menu which highlighted several classy brunch options. “When did this come to Hardiwick?”

“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Kathy said with a little smile. “The strawberry and white chocolate waffles can beat anything the city has to offer.”

“Sounds scrumptious,” Lynne agreed. Once inside, she saw the café had been decorated with mismatched chairs and tables. Every seat had a different coloured napkin. It could have looked like the leftovers from a jumble sale, she thought, yet somehow, with the bright flowers and eclectic art hanging on the walls, it all pulled together to form a distinct and cozy look.

“The owner, Mark Sheehan, is from New York,” Kathy told her as they sat down. The restaurant was filling up, and several waitresses hurried by, carrying coffee pots and extra menus. “He’s about your age, maybe a little younger. He opened this place last year.”

“And it hasn’t stopped buzzing since,” Graham chipped in. “Hardiwick could use a good restaurant.”

“And a good inn,” Kathy couldn’t resist adding. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, and lowered her voice. “Have you thought about our offer, Lynne?”

“I have...” Lynne paused as a waitress came over and began filling the colourful ceramic mugs on the table. Instinctively Lynne’s gaze slid to her daughter, who was sitting at the end of the table, looking preoccupied and withdrawn. Her dark, curly hair framed a pixyish face that Lynne was used to seen bright and animated.
Now Molly looked strained. She hadn’t, Lynne reflected, relaxed all weekend. If anything, her daughter looked more wound up than when they’d first arrived.

“And?” Kathy said, excitement and impatience in her voice. The waitress left and Lynne took a sip of strong coffee. It was good, she noted with reluctant admiration. Really good.

“I still need to think about it, Kathy. There’s a lot to consider--”

“I don’t mean to be nosy,” John interjected, a rumble of laughter in his deep voice, “but what are we talking about here? If it’s a family matter, I can absent myself--”

“Nonsense!” Kathy patted John on the shoulder. “You’re practically family as it is, John. You grew up at our house and you’ve been eating my cookies for over forty years.”

Smiling, John patted his rather taut stomach. “Too true.”

“We’ve offered our house to Lynne,” Kathy began, and went on to explain the idea of a bed and breakfast. Lynne gazed down at her coffee cup, disconcerted yet again. John might be family to Kathy and Graham, but he wasn’t to Lynne, and she felt strangely vulnerable having him know about her plans--especially when she hadn’t even agreed to anything yet.

“Sounds like a great idea,” John said when Kathy had finished. “Hardiwick could use an inn, especially since The Firefly’s a private residence now. But it would be a lot of hard work.”

Lynne looked up, her eyes flashing. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

“I didn’t say you were.” John’s easy smile took any sting out of their exchange, yet Lynne was conscious of his blue eyes laughing into hers. “So,” he continued, cradling his own mug, “are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know,” Lynne replied, glancing down again.

“I think you should, Mom.”

Lynne looked up in surprise to see Molly smiling at her. The sight of her daughter’s smile was like sunlight finally emerging from behind the clouds, and Lynne smiled back. “You do?”

“Absolutely. It’s an amazing opportunity, and after all, Hardiwick is a lot closer than Scotland.” Molly smiled, and some of the strain eased from the corners of her mouth and eyes.

“That’s true,” Lynne said slowly. Her daughter’s support filled her with a rush of hopeful gratitude. She hadn’t realised how absent it had been until that moment.

“So?” Graham asking with a wink, and Lynne glanced at Jess. Jess smiled but gave her head a slight shake, clearly not ready to commit to her own part in these plans.

Still, Lynne thought she could convince her friend to give it a go, especially if she threw herself into it first. Head first.

“All right,” she said, throwing up her hands in mock defeat. “I’ll do it.” Her smile widened as everyone cheered and clapped.

A man dressed in a well-cut suit covered with a white apron stopped by their table, one eyebrow raised. “Is there something to celebrate, Kathy? Graham?”

“Yes!” Kathy’s face was flushed, her eyes bright with excitement. “Our daughter-in-law is taking over our house, Mark. And turning it into a bed and breakfast!”

“What wonderful news.” Mark’s voice was dry with a trace of a New York accent. He glanced at Lynne with a thoughtful smile, and she wondered how long it would take before all of Hardiwick knew her plans.

Molly slowly came to a halt outside Cooper High School and eyed the police officer by the front doors with a deepening sense of unease. Students milled around, whispering nervously, until another office came to shepherd them in, one at a time.

Molly hitched her bag higher onto her shoulder and tried to make her way over to the officer. She was prevented by the throng of students who jostled her none too lightly, and a dry voice behind her said,