The Wishing Season (32 page)

Mrs. Simmons lowered herself to the padded chair, folding her bejeweled hands on the table. “As you know, Mr. Evans was in earlier for his presentation. The board and I were astonished to hear that he wishes to withdraw from the competition.”

PJ’s mouth went slack. “What?”

“He didn’t discuss this with you, I presume?”

He quit? PJ’s words got stuck in her throat. She shook her head.

“He no longer wishes to stay in Chapel Springs—for personal reasons, he said.”

PJ shrank inside. Shriveled up and died. Living in separate houses wasn’t enough, apparently. He wanted to live in separate towns.

“This was a most unexpected development. We’ve heard nothing but good things about Crossroads and the children under his care. And despite Mr. Evans’s unfortunate encounter with the law awhile back, we believe him to be an upstanding citizen and a capable young man.”

PJ nodded.

“The board and I have discussed this turn of events. We’ve also heard many wonderful things about your restaurant, and of course your reports have been encouraging, especially during the warm months. You’ve recovered nicely from the off-season and are turning a lovely profit. We’ve reviewed your previous presentation regarding the bed-and-breakfast and agree that the community would benefit from extra lodging.

“To sum it up, dear, we believe in you and your vision, and therefore we’re thrilled to award the Wishing House to you. Congratulations!”

The board members beamed at her, applauding.

PJ forced a smile to her face. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t what she wanted. What about Cole? What about Crossroads?

But Cole had quit. Was leaving her.

The board members approached, shaking her hand, congratulating her. PJ worked to keep the smile on her face, mumbled words of gratitude that didn’t register in her brain. Mrs. Simmons patted her on the back like a proud mother hen, then notified her that the closing date on the house was scheduled in thirty days. When the woman was finished, she gathered her belongings and filed out the back with the rest of the board.

PJ left the building. Her mind spun as she got in her car and headed toward home. What the heck had just happened?

Why had Cole quit? Was it really to escape her? Was it too late to change things? To talk him out of it? Why would he do this? She knew how much helping those kids meant to him. He needed to do this. Wouldn’t be able to do it anywhere else, not now that he’d spent all his resources on Crossroads.

She had to change his mind. Had to tell him she was dropping out, that the house was his. She’d fix this. Tell him he didn’t have to go. That she would leave. The board would understand. If they didn’t, she’d give her presentation and convince them of it.

She pulled to the curb and dashed toward the house, taking the porch steps two at a time. She entered the quiet house.

She leaped up the stairs, flipping on a light as she raced down the hallway. “Cole!”

Her heart raced faster than her feet. She’d been trembling all morning, at the thought of her presentation and now in anticipation of seeing Cole, of having a real conversation—something they hadn’t shared in weeks.

Her legs quaked as she jogged up the attic steps. She knocked on the door. “Cole, it’s me.”

She drew in a breath, trying to calm herself. She could fix this. It wasn’t too late. She just had to convince Cole to stay and convince the board to change their minds. If she quit, what other choice would they have?

She knocked again, becoming aware that all was still on the other side of the door. Not a sound of movement inside.

“Cole?” She turned the doorknob.

His room slowly came into view. Her lips parted. Dread sucked the air from her lungs, leaving them hollow and aching. Her heart fought for release.

His bed, his furniture, his makeshift nightstand and piles of clothes. All of it was gone.

Chapter Forty-Four

H
E
’
D LEFT HER
. H
E
’
D PACKED UP HIS THINGS AND SPLIT
. Couldn’t get away from her fast enough. He hadn’t even said good-bye. The realization was a punch in the gut. PJ closed the door and went numbly down the stairs. The adrenaline rush left her limbs weak and shaky.

She reviewed the past few weeks for any hint she might’ve missed. Things had been awkward. He’d avoided her, of course. Had he really been so miserable here with her that he’d had to forfeit his dream? That he’d had to leave town the moment he had the opportunity?

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and PJ grabbed for it. Her heart sank when she saw it was her mom. She was no doubt curious how the presentation had gone—PJ hadn’t told anyone what she’d planned. Or maybe Mom had heard via the grapevine that PJ had been awarded the house and was calling to congratulate her.

When the phone stopped buzzing, she turned it on and called Josh. “Hey, Josh, this is PJ,” she said when he answered. “Have you heard from Cole today?”

“Yeah, he stopped by the grocery store when I was on break and said he was leaving town. Wished me luck. Told me to call him if I needed anything.”

“Did he—did he say why?” PJ swallowed hard.

“Naw, not really. I’m really bummed he’s shutting down Crossroads. Tried to talk him out of it.”

When she got off the phone, she sank onto a step and dialed again. When Zac had gotten home from work, he’d found a note from Cole on his door telling him good-bye.

Officially at a new low, PJ hung up.

A note. She sat up straight, hope blooming. Maybe he’d left her a note. She popped to her feet and dashed to her room, flinging open the bedroom door. Her eyes scanned the dresser where he’d left the vase of flowers on Valentine’s Day. They darted to her armoire, to her nightstand, and across her unmade bed.

Her spirits sank as hope came crashing down. Not even a note.

Cole turned off the radio. The on-air bickering over a baseball team was wearing on his nerves. People calling in, ragging on the coach, complaining about the record. These people needed to get a life.

By now the board had granted PJ the house. She had her dream. Her proof that she was capable. Her family would support her, the community would get behind her, and PJ would start believing in herself.

He’d already arranged for his own new start. He’d gotten his job installing windows back. He’d stay at Greg and Becky’s until he found an apartment. No matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, his new life sounded bleak.

The miles between him and Chapel Springs, between him
and PJ, stretched with each second. He felt more hollow by the moment, but he told himself it would get better. Time healed all wounds. Eventually he’d go two seconds without thinking of her, then two minutes, two hours. In time he’d go a whole day without thinking of her. Without aching for her. Right?

Please, God
.

He thought of all he’d left behind. Crossroads, Zac, and Josh. He’d miss those guys. He already missed Shaundra.

He was sad for those four kids he’d chosen from the many applications he’d received. Kids who wouldn’t have the same opportunity Zac, Josh, and Shaundra had been given. A weight settled heavily in his chest. There would be another house someday. Other kids. He wasn’t giving up.

He said a prayer for those four kids, that God would provide a safe place for them and for all the kids he hadn’t chosen.

Out of nowhere PJ cannonballed into his mind, with her chocolate brown eyes and her wide smile. It had been weeks since he’d seen that smile. He allowed himself the luxury of remembering the feel of those sweet lips on his, the feel of her silky hair in his fingers. He could hardly stand the thought of not seeing her, not touching her or holding her. The last several weeks had been so hard, but he had a feeling the “hard” had only begun. The ache opened wide, nearly swallowing him, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

I miss her, God.

A sign ahead proclaimed Fort Wayne ninety-two miles away. He clenched his jaw and pressed harder on the gas pedal. The sooner he arrived, the sooner he could put PJ and everything from Chapel Springs behind him.

Chapter Forty-Five

PJ
PUT UP A SHOT
. I
T BOUNCED OFF THE RIM AND RIGHT
into Beckett’s hands. He made a lay-up, despite Madison’s over-the-back. The game-winning shot.

Madison poked her husband in the ribs. “Lucky shot.”

Beckett high-fived PJ. “And we win again.”

“No thanks to me.” She was off her game tonight. “I’m going to sit the next one out.” She left the concrete pad as teams reorganized, following the flagstones across the lawn toward the new swing set.

In the distance the sunset silhouetted the cornfields on the horizon. Dusk had settled in, blanketing her parents’ backyard with evening light. The landscaping lights twinkled against the encroaching darkness, and the oscillating buzz of katydids called from the nearby woods.

Mom was pushing Mia in the toddler swing. A tiny purple barrette clasped a shock of brown hair at the top of the baby’s head.

“P-Day!” the toddler said as PJ approached, her chubby legs kicking happily.

“Hi, baby girl.” PJ took the low swing beside her, her long legs folded awkwardly.

“Sing!”

“Are you swinging? Is Grammy pushing you?”

“Sing!”

“She does love to swing,” Mom said.

“Where’s Ava?”

“Dad took her inside so Jade and Daniel could take a walk. Beautiful night.”

“It is.”

The noise of the basketball game filtered over: the ball slapping the concrete, shoes grinding against loose gravel, playful teasing. The familiar sounds of family and home should’ve been comforting. Instead PJ felt nothing but discontent.

She straightened her cramped legs and clasped the cool metal links in her palms. If she were honest, she’d felt nothing but discontent for three weeks. Ever since she’d won the house. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

Keeping the restaurant open had been easy enough. Her employees were grateful to have their jobs. She’d even hired another line cook and another server. She’d been busy, the restaurant was flourishing, and the upstairs remained untouched.

“You’ve been quiet lately. Everything okay with the restaurant?”

PJ forced a smile. She’d been doing that a lot lately. “Business is great. Couldn’t be better. My new line cook is good. He worked at the Candlelight Café for seven years.”

Mom gave Mia a push. “And the B & B? How are your plans coming along?”

She was supposed to get another loan. The rooms needed nicer furnishings, and she needed to hire a housekeeper and someone to answer the phone and handle check-ins during restaurant hours. She needed to order a new sign, set a grand opening date, and work on some marketing plans.

She’d done none of it. She’d gone upstairs exactly twice. The first time she’d noticed Cole had left the furniture in the kids’ rooms, the living room. The second time she’d planned to make a list of things she needed. She’d planned to make the living room and dining room into a suite. But she’d taken one step into the kitchen and remembered all Cole’s hard work. He’d done it with his own two hands. Installed shelving, painted, laid flooring. And now she was going to come in and undo all his hard work?

She’d stared at the doorway, remembering their first kiss while a lump swelled in her throat. What she’d give if she could turn back time and undo everything. But what would she do differently? She didn’t even understand what had gone wrong. Maybe she’d scared him away, clung too hard.

“PJ?”

She blinked. “Um, sorry. I—what were we talking about?”

Mom gave her a sympathetic look. “The B & B. I have a new girl helping out part time at the store. I could take a few days off next week and help you paint or polish floors, whatever you need.”

“I haven’t really done anything with the upstairs yet.”

“Are you waiting for the closing?”

A mere six days, and the house would be in her name. “I guess so.”

“Dad and I saw the article in
Southern Indiana
this week. Beautiful shots of the restaurant and of you in your whites.”

“Thanks.” The feature had been well written. It all looked so good in black and white. Sounded so perfect. Local girl wins dream home. Woohoo.

“Honey, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be ecstatic about winning. You worked so hard, and you did it. But I don’t think
I’ve ever seen you so unhappy and withdrawn. Is it too much? Are you overwhelmed?”

“No, Mom, I’m not overwhelmed.”

“What is it then?”

She hadn’t told her family how it had all gone down. Maybe she’d needed them to believe that she’d earned the house. That she’d won it on her own and not because Cole had forfeited. Somehow that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was she was lost without Cole and worried about how he was faring after losing both his dream and Lizzy.

“Down,” Mia said.

Mom lifted Mia from the swing and set her on the ground. She toddled toward the pink push car, her short legs working fast.

“I didn’t exactly win the house, Mom.”

“What do you mean?”