“It’s an arm. I’m not an invalid. I can ask anyone in town if I need something, and they’ll deliver. Besides, what are you going to do? Stay for the next six weeks? You hate it here.”
“I don’thateit.”
“You’re dying to get back to work.” She winced. “Poor choice of words.”
He wasn’t trying to block the pain anymore. “You can’t filter what you say. And I’d feel better if you went with me.” That came out wrong. “So you’re not alone while you heal.” He handed her a business card with his personal information on the back.
She laughed and pocketed it. “Now that I have three, I’ll probably be able to find at least one when I need it. I’m glad you came back.”
“Me too.” He wrapped her in a hug, careful not to jar her cast. “I’m going to miss you. Promise me you’ll be safe.”
She buried her face in his chest. “I promise I won’t do anything stupid with my arm and that I won’t get engaged to an abusive asshole and that I won’t intentionally put myself in harm’s way.”
“I’ll take it.” He squeezed her tight, then let go and stepped back.
“Text me when you land.”
If he said anything else, they’d be here all day and into tomorrow. He gave her a final smile and dropped into the car.
The house, and then the trees, and eventually the island grew smaller in the mirror, as he drove toward the mainland. For the first time he could remember, he didn’t regret leaving it all behind. That was always his least favorite part of summer—going home at the end. There were too many memories, and surrounding himself with them would mar them, not make them better. But his other regret lingered. He’d never liked leaving alone, and the feeling was now stronger than ever.
Chapter Nineteen
It had been a weeksince Jonathan left, and it was taking Bailey more time to adjust than she’d expected. Each time there was a knock on the door, or someone in town called her name, a tiny bit of her hoped it was him. It wasn’t. Thinking such a thing was ridiculous, but that didn’t stop her from clinging to the desire. They were keeping in touch, as promised. That was something.
She settled into the recliner at home with a fresh bag of chips and a jar of dip, and turned on the TV. Some sort of police procedural played in the background, as she typed out a text.Auction’s over. A few pleasant surprises. Most of it as expected. Check’s in the mail.
His reply buzzed in within moments.If you were anyone else, I’d take that as seriously as ‘trust me.’
Or ‘only driven once,’she sent back.
Or ‘of course he’s your son and not the mailman’s.’
She laughed.You left this movie behind without instructions. What do you want me to do with it?Broaching the topic was risky. It meant talking about Nana’s life, rather than glossing over her death.
There was a several -minute pause. Was he distracted, or did she ruin the conversation? His message finally came through.Bury it in a crate in the back yard.