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Authors: Catherine West

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BOOK: The Things We Knew
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Chapter Thirty-Seven

N
ick waited two long weeks until they gave him the okay to go over to Wyldewood. With updates from Cecily and Evy, he kept up with Lynnie's progress. He'd called her, but she hadn't answered her cell. He wasn't sure she really wanted to see him, but he and Dad were leaving in a couple of days.

He needed to say good-bye.

Gray answered the door, disheveled in shorts, a dirty polo, and bare feet, holding a little girl with curly blond hair and familiar blue eyes.

“Hey.” Nick spoke first.

“'Bout time you showed up.” Gray's grin came out of hiding.

Nick looked at his feet a minute. “I'm sorry, man. It was a mess. I should have told her in the beginning.”

“You weren't the only one who knew.”

Nick's lips curled upward. “So, we're good?”

Gray's nod said it all. “We're good.”

Apprehension slid away and Nick knew no matter what came next, he'd survive it.

“So. This is Tess.” Gray rubbed the little girl's back as she gave a yawn.

“Hi, Tess.” Nick chuckled as she buried her head against Gray's shoulder. “You're not shy, are you?”

“Nah. She's pretending. Give her two minutes. Come on in. Everyone else is down on the beach. We just got up from our nap.”

“Nice.” Nick followed Gray through the house. “So . . . you gonna marry that girl, dude?”

“Coop.” Gray laughed and kissed Tess on the head. “That would be rather conventional of me, wouldn't it?” He stopped walking and turned to Nick. “I'm still working on getting my life back, but yeah. And when I do, I'll need a best man.”

Nick put a hand on Gray's shoulder. “I'd be honored.”

“Cool. Just take it easy with the speech.” He lowered his voice and winked. “Tori's parents are just starting to like me again.”

“Okay.” Laughter felt good. “I'm really happy for you, man.”

Gray threw him his classic bad-boy grin. “Wouldn't want to do it without you, Coop.”

They clasped hands and Nick allowed the memories to take one final bow.

It was time to move on.

As they walked through the house, Gray peered through one of the long windows in the dining room. “Lynnie must have come up.”

Nick's gaze went to the window and his lungs almost bailed on him.

Lynette sat on the bench, head bent over a book. The breeze played with her hair and the wind chimes conjured up a lifetime of memories and a bucketful of feeling, ready to spill over and wash away all the grime and grit of the grisly scenes his mind kept replaying.

If only he'd let it.

He rocked on his heels, suddenly nervous. “Um . . . maybe I should—”

Gray rolled his eyes and opened the back door. “Lynnie, someone to see you.”

Lynette knew Nick would come eventually.

She looked up as he approached, unable to stop a smile. “Nick.”

“Hi, Lynnie.” Hesitation lurked in his gaze. “How are you?”

“You mean aside from being a little north of normal?”

Nick's grin came and went. “I hear normal is highly overrated.”

“You might be right.” The hospital stay was the worst. Meeting with the doctors, rehashing it all. But now the memories brought clarity instead of confusion. And the future didn't seem so far out of reach. “Thanks for the flowers.” Every few days a new arrangement arrived. “Want to sit?” She put her book down, shifted to make room for him.

Nick settled beside her and draped one arm across the back of the bench. His eyes searched her face, maybe wanting to make sure no more ghosts sat on her shoulders and kept her up at night.

“Did you meet Tess?”

“Yeah. Quite a surprise, huh?”

She laughed at his expression. “Nothing Gray does surprises me anymore. I'm just glad he's finally decided to be a dad. He's awesome with her.”

“I saw.”

“How's your father, Nick?”

“He's hanging in there.” Nick studied his knees, and when he looked up again, his eyes were a bit too bright. “The doctors say they've done all they can. It probably won't be much longer, months at best. We've had some good talks the last few days. We're taking a trip. He's always wanted to sail the Mediterranean. We've got a boat and a crew. A doctor buddy of his is coming along. Leaving next week. I . . . would have come to see you before now, Lynnie, but they thought, I mean, I didn't know . . .”

“You didn't know if I'd want to see you.” She remembered her anger that night, finding out that Nick had known about the affair and kept it from her. But then she'd discovered David and Gray knew as well. “I needed some time to process everything.
I know that you wanted to be here, I knew you were thinking about me.”

“You didn't take my calls.”

“Nick. I'm sorry. My doctor thought, given the circumstances, it was better that way. But you're here now.”

“I was really worried. But I get it.” He smiled then, and she felt better. “You look amazing, though. Your hair is shorter, right?”

“A little.” She enjoyed Nick's obvious pleasure as he took in her new look. Liz practically dragged her to the hair salon, but once it was done, she liked it. “I figured it was time for a change. And it's only been two weeks since you've seen me. But thanks. I'm feeling good.” She fiddled with the ring on her finger. “I'm glad for you, Nick, that you're getting to spend some time with your dad. I hope it's everything you want and more. You'll always have those memories.”

“Yeah. Better late than never.” Nick stretched out his legs. “Oh, and get this. He wants me to go back to school. Become an architect.”

Lynette captured the joy in his eyes and felt it herself. “That's wonderful! It's what you always wanted. You'll do it, won't you?”

“Probably. Those details can be worked out later. But, yeah. It's good.”

“It is. I'm excited for you.”

“Did you ever think about going back to college?” Nick asked, giving the smile she'd missed so much. “Getting your teaching degree? I mean, once things with your dad settle down, and the house . . . We could go together.”

Together. More laughter slipped out and she relished it. “Well, I can't say I've thought about it lately, but it's an interesting idea.” She clasped her hands and got on with it. “Actually, I'm going away too.”

“You are? Where?” His eyes were wide, perhaps a hint of regret tagging along.

So Gray hadn't told him.

“I'm going back to Africa with Ryan. Gray bought me a ticket. My doctor thinks it's a good idea for me to get away. Just for a while.”

“What about your dad?”

Lynette pushed her hair out of her eyes and nodded. She was learning to accept that aspect of her life as well. “He'll be looked after. David and Josslyn are talking about maybe moving here, getting a fresh start. Josslyn could apply for a teaching job at the high school. I think David really wants to oversee the renovations and help look after Dad. I'm not sure what Liz is planning to do. I'm not sure she knows.” Tears pricked her eyes but she let them come. Avoiding the truth was a thing of the past. “He'll get to the point where he won't know if I'm here or not.”

“I'm sorry, Lynnie.”

She nodded, stood, and moved around the porch, picking deadheads off the potted geraniums and roses. When she trusted her ability to speak again, she turned around.

“Evy's coming over next week, to go through Dad's paintings with us. She'll start brokering them and hopefully they'll do well. We're all pretty upbeat about the renovations and running the B&B, but you know, things don't always go according to plan. If for some reason we end up having to sell the house, then we will.” She could say it now. Hear the truth without it hurting. “I realize now that it wasn't so much about saving Wyldewood. It wasn't the memories of the past I was desperate to hold on to, it was the past itself. The things I couldn't remember. Things I knew and didn't want to face.”

Nick clasped his hands behind his head. “Should I have told you the truth, Lynnie? About our parents?”

“It doesn't matter.” She shrugged, understanding the conflict. “I don't blame you, Nick. You thought you were doing the right thing.” She'd had time to think, to pray, to process, to forgive.
“And I think I needed to remember, to understand the truth of what happened, on my own.”

God had not abandoned her, even though at times she'd felt like it. He'd been there all along, guiding her, pointing her toward the doors she needed to walk through.

Now all she had to do was sort through her feelings for Nick.

She turned toward the sea. Nick's steps came closer.

“Did Gray tell you I talked to my father?” He stood so close their arms touched. “About what happened the day your mom died?”

“Yes. And I believe it was just an accident.” Lynette shifted to look at him. “I don't want it to be something that comes between us. I hope we'll always be friends, Nick.”

“Friends?” Questions crossed his face, furrowed his brow. Questions she wasn't sure she wanted to answer yet, but knew he would give her little choice, and she owed him that much.

“Let's go sit over there.” She picked her way across the lawn and positioned herself on the wall, facing the ocean. Nick joined her and they watched the waves in silence.

“Gray and I used to do this all the time.”

“Yeah, me too.” Nick picked a small shell from the wall and tossed it toward the water. “Except he always tried to push me off.” They fell quiet.

Eventually she swiveled, swung her legs around, and planted them firmly on the grass. The windows of the house seemed to smile at her, gleaming in the sun. She could almost see the shadows on the steps, coming and going. But they didn't haunt her anymore.

Nick got up, paced the perimeter of the wall, then walked back to where she sat. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm not sure you want to know.”

He sat beside her again and put a hand over hers. “I always want to know what you're thinking.”

She studied his face, wanting, wishing, but knowing the difference now between hope and reality. “I'm thinking that you're a
wonderful friend. I'm lucky you cared enough about me to want to protect me, to help me. But you don't have to anymore.”

“Lynnie, I don't think you understand.” He sat forward, squeezed her hand. “Don't you know how I feel about you?”

“Nick.” She'd tried to prepare for this conversation. Tried to steel herself for what she knew was best, but now, looking at him, having him so close . . . she wasn't sure she could do it. “I think . . . perhaps it's best we leave all that alone. For now.” Her heart was in for a long recuperation. She stood, needing to put some space between them.

“Wait. What are you saying?” Nick was beside her in an instant. He took her hands and held tight. Beyond the questions in his eyes might have been something that spoke of connection, of kinship, of a bond neither of them could deny. Maybe even real love. He'd said as much. She'd wanted to believe it. Still wanted to.

But now she needed more. Needed to find out who she really was.

Needed not to rely on old safety nets.

And Nick had always been one of them.

“I'm saying I want to take this time, Nick, for me.”

“Okay, good.” His smile didn't last. “But then?”

“Then we'll see.”

He shook his head, like he could make her take the words back. “Please don't kick me out of your life, Lynnie. I don't think I could stand it.”

“I'm not kicking you out of my life. How could I? You've been in it too long for that.”

“But you're saying good-bye, making it sound like it's forever.”

“Not forever, Nick. Just for now.”

“So, when you get back we can—”

“Nick.” She pulled her hands from his, folded her arms. “I need you to be patient with me.”

“Okay.” He took a few steps back, exhaled. “But . . . I thought you . . . I'd hoped . . . you loved me.”

Lynette couldn't look at him and answer the question. Couldn't lie either. So she watched an ant trek across the top of her foot and said nothing.

Nick pressed his fingers under her chin. “Lynnie, look at me.”

“Please don't, Nick.” Tears blurred her vision.

“Do you love me?” A knowing grin curled his lips. “It's a simple question, Shortstop.”

“Of course I do. I always have, Nick.” The confession brought a smile. “Is that really news to you?”

Nick's hands slid upward until they cradled her face. “I needed to hear you say it.”

She allowed hope to infiltrate her heart once more. “I'm going to miss you.”

“Probably not as much as I'll miss you.” One finger traced over her trembling lips, and then he gently pressed his own against them. Any protest she might have made died in her throat as she molded against him, put her arms around his neck, and allowed him to kiss her for a long while.

BOOK: The Things We Knew
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ads

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