‘Why did you come back if you hate him so much? What made you choose this town?’
That was the million-dollar question. And the simple fact was, he’d chosen it for a reason. Or maybe it had chosen him. Whichever way you looked at it, he’d spent half his life avoiding the place that held all his bad memories, and yet it held everything else too. His family, his history, a town built by his forefathers that had made him the man he was today. When he and Sheridan had discussed where Charlie should spend his Kindergarten year, the first words that slipped from Ryan’s tongue was the name of his home town. Shaw Haven, the place of his birth. He’d left under a cloud with nothing more than his tarnished name to cling on to, and he’d come back as a man, one who had succeeded in spite of everything, who’d made his own life, his own luck, and yet still had something left to prove. He’d come back because there was still part of his story left to write.
And when it was written, he’d leave and they’d start their new life together. Far away from this place.
Ryan wiped the rain from his brow and looked at his mom. ‘I came back because I wanted to.’ Pulling his attention away from her, he looked at Charlie. ‘Do you want to put your plant on Grandma Maisie’s grave?’ he asked him.
Charlie nodded, walking forward, Ryan following close behind to shelter him with the umbrella. His son squatted down, placing the plant pot gently next to the headstone. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the maelstrom of emotions seeing his mother had unleashed. Trying to ignore the painful memories she’d stirred up.
Almost immediately his thoughts went to Juliet. And suddenly the need to see her overwhelmed him. He was surprised by the intensity of his feeling. It was like a magnet, dragging him in.
‘There,’ Charlie said, wiping his hands together. ‘Is that okay?’
‘It’s perfect.’ Ryan smiled at his son. From the corner of his eye he saw his mother still watching him. ‘Let’s go, buddy,’ he said, putting his arm around Charlie’s shoulders. ‘I promised Juliet some turkey.’
Juliet rolled her shoulders, moving her head from side to side to relax the stiff muscles in her neck. She was wearing yellow rubber gloves, the sleeves of her checked shirt rolled up to her elbows, her hair twisted on her head to keep it out of the cleaning fluid.
‘Today I’m thankful for this shop,’ she murmured. It was her haven, the place she felt surrounded by nature at its most beautiful. That’s why she’d decided to spend Thanksgiving Day in here, washing the floors and the counters, sorting through old stock, making enough space for the holiday designs she had planned. A clean, fresh start, and a way to keep herself occupied while Poppy was spending the next two days with her father and her grandparents. It beat sitting around moping, which was what she would be doing if she weren’t here.
By early afternoon everything had been polished to a shine. She’d sorted through the shelves of vases and boxes of florist wire, making notes of the things she’d need to reorder. Every now and then she’d pick up her phone, only to find there were no messages from Thomas, or from anybody else. The few friends she had in Shaw Haven were celebrating with their own families, and her friends in the UK probably didn’t even know it was a national holiday over here. For them, it was just another dreary Thursday in the November rain.
But that was okay. It gave her enough time to get the shop ready before the holiday season really set in. And by trading off Thanksgiving, she’d have Poppy on Christmas Day. At least that was something to look forward to.
She was standing on the wooden stepladder, reaching up to replace a light bulb when there was a loud bang on the glass door. She looked over, trying to see who it was through the rain-obscured glass, but she couldn’t make anything out.
Almost immediately her thoughts turned to Poppy. As she quickly climbed down the rungs, she touched her pocket. Her phone was still there. Surely Thomas would have called if there was something wrong.
Still, by the time she made it to the door she was breathless, and not from the exertion of running across the tiled floor. She squinted as she flipped each lock in turn, still trying to see if it was Thomas on the other side, but the water-splattered window was impossible to look through.
Pulling the door open, she felt her mouth drop when she realised it was Ryan standing there, his hair plastered to his head, rivulets of rain making their way down his skin. He was wearing a lightweight jacket – way too thin for this time of year. It was soaked through, sticking to his body in a very distracting way.
‘Oh my, look at you, you’d better come in.’ She took a step back, to let him come inside.
‘I can’t, Charlie’s in the car. I just came to bring you some turkey.’ He lifted a plastic bag and passing it to her. It was heavy – with two large plastic boxes inside. ‘Like I promised, remember?’
She allowed herself to smile. There was something about this man – standing in the entrance of her shop, offering her food because she was alone on Thanksgiving Day – that made her feel she wasn’t alone. As wet as he was, his mere presence felt like the sun coming out.
‘Thanks, I could use a break from cleaning.’ She pulled the yellow plastic gloves she’d been wearing off. ‘Did you cook it yourself?’
‘With a little help from Boston Market. But it’s good. Even Charlie said so.’ He looked behind her, at the shop. His eyes widened when he saw how out of place everything was. ‘You’re not running a Black Friday sale?’
She shook her head. ‘Not a lot of point. Nobody’s after a bargain bouquet on Black Friday. Plus the holiday season should be my most lucrative time of year, so I thought I’d get the shop Christmas ready.’
‘Are you working tomorrow?’
Over his shoulder she could see his old truck, raindrops splashing off the metallic roof. Charlie was sitting in the passenger seat, his face pressed against the window. She waved at him, and he smiled, waving tentatively back at her.
‘I’m not planning to. Hopefully I’ll finish everything here by tonight, so tomorrow I’ll get to chill. Poppy’s not coming home until Saturday.’ She could already picture it. A warm bath to take the cold from her bones, plus a nice big glass of red wine. She was beginning to discover there were some advantages to shared custody, after all.
‘Come sailing with me tomorrow.’ The smile on his face sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Charlie’s got another sleepover – he’s going to the movies to see that dragon thing. So I’m on my own, too.’
‘Sailing in this weather?’ she questioned. ‘Is that a good idea?’
‘The forecast’s better for tomorrow. It’ll still be cold, but we can wrap up warm and bring some hot chocolate with us. As long as there’s no storm, then we can set sail. The Chesapeake is beautiful in the summer, but in the fall it’s in another league, like God’s own country. I want to show it to you.’
‘What if it starts raining while we’re out there?’
‘Then we’ll hunker down in the galley and I’ll show you what a poker fiend I can be. Come on, London, take a chance and come sailing with me.’