“Uncle Josh, Mom says to stop hogging the chip bowl.” Matt popped up beside them and let out the string of words all at once, without a pause. “Oh, and to ask you if I can get you a refill, Dr. Howard.”
The interruption broke the strange spell between her and Josh, and he took a step back. Lizzie let out a breath and smiled. “Oh, that would be lovely, Matthew.” She handed over her glass and Matt dashed away. “He’s a cute one,” she murmured.
“A good kid, but all boy, too,” Josh said affectionately, somewhat relieved they’d left the heavy conversation behind them. “It’s too bad he doesn’t have any brothers or cousins. When we were little, the four of us—me, Rick, Tom, and Bryce—did everything together.” He grinned. “Good and bad. Do you have any siblings?”
“Nope. Only child. Charlie’s the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had.”
“She says that about you, too. She’s really mellowed out since she and Dave got together. It’s kind of cute.”
They both looked over at Charlie and Dave, who were holding hands as they chatted to Todd Ricker and a young woman Josh didn’t recognize. “They’re adorable,” Lizzie said. “It’s almost sickening, except I’m so glad to see her happy that, well, you know.”
“Wedded bliss isn’t for you, Dr. Howard?”
She tilted her head and gave him a sideways look. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been close enough to it to give it a serious thought.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. She was so dry, so delightfully cynical, that he felt an instant bond. “God, and here I thought I was the only one not enthralled with the idea of marital bliss.”
Matt came back with Lizzie’s drink and she thanked him briefly before he went running off again. “But … you were married before. You don’t intend to do it again?”
He’d walked right into that question, and he should have known better. This was what happened when you got comfortable with someone. You tended to forget the walls and boundaries you’d built to protect that soft underbelly. And for Josh, that weak spot was Erin.
“I loved my wife,” he said, knowing that was the truth. “But it wasn’t enough. And now she’s gone.”
With that cryptic response, he offered a quiet “excuse me” and went to help Rick at the grill.
* * *
As the guests kept coming, the noise in the backyard rose. Lizzie met a ton of new people, all of whom were friendly and welcoming. The lime coolers were deliciously crisp and tart and by seven she was grateful for food. She found herself sitting at a picnic table with Josh’s mom, Meggie, and Tom and Abby Arseneault, and an older woman who introduced herself as the town busybody and member of the historical society. Lizzie hadn’t talked to Tom since the day she’d moved into his cottage, and they got caught up chatting about the house and the nearby beach. Abby, she learned, was relatively new to Jewell Cove, having arrived just over a year earlier, and it was nice to talk to someone else who had a newcomer’s eyes.
Rick’s ribs were fall-off-the-bone delicious, and Jess had cooked corn in a massive canner that Lizzie figured was also used for lobster and other backyard “boils.” Sarah’s potato salad disappeared quickly, and there were fluffy white rolls and coleslaw, too. Just when Lizzie was sure she couldn’t eat another bite, Jess came out carrying a cake to rival any July Fourth dessert she’d ever seen.
It was a huge rectangular sheet cake with white icing. Blueberries were in the top left corner making the “stars” part of the flag, with rows of ripe raspberries forming the “stripes.” Right in the middle was a sparkler ready to be lit, and all the kids in attendance bounced around, wanting to see the sparkler and get the first pieces. Before long the younger crew was temporarily quiet as they gobbled up cake and vanilla ice cream.
It was a very fun evening, but the whole time Lizzie was aware of Josh. The serious expression from earlier was gone, and he smiled and chatted and laughed and looked all-around happy. She wondered how much of it was an act. There’d been something strange about what he’d said. Not that he’d loved his wife or that she was gone—that was expected. But the part about not loving her enough. What did he mean? Had their marriage not been as happy as everyone let on?
She held off on the coolers now; she’d started feeling fuzzy around the edges and had no desire to drink too much and possibly say something inappropriate. She wondered if that actually did make her a stick-in-the-mud as Josh had intimated earlier.
“Sue me for being responsible then,” she muttered to herself. Maybe she should check with Charlie. See if she and Dave were anywhere near ready to leave.
But Charlie was determined to stay until the fireworks at ten, which would take place on a barge out in the cove and could be seen right here from Rick’s backyard. Lizzie helped clean up the mess from dinner and when it was over found herself perched on the edge of a picnic table with a cup of coffee.
Alone.
Despite what Sarah and Charlie had insisted, there weren’t singles here. The crowd was a mix of late twenties and thirties, with the odd older couple in attendance. There were babies and toddlers and elementary school children, and while hearing their happy laughter was nice, it did serve to make Lizzie feel more out of place. Sure, Josh’s mom was attending alone, but she was sitting with her sister, Barb, and brother-in-law, Pete, and that didn’t count. As far as Lizzie could tell, she and Josh were the only two singletons in the bunch. And she wondered if her invitation had been more than just a friendly one or if she’d been maneuvered in his direction.
How mortifying.
To make matters worse, Josh came over and hopped up on the table next to her. “So,” he said conversationally, as if the earlier tension hadn’t existed, “are you counting by twos as well?”
; She laughed. If he wasn’t going to bring up their last talk, she wouldn’t, either. “You noticed.”
“I think we were manipulated. Or at least you were. I would have been obligated to come as both team member and family.”
“Well, maybe I should be flattered.” At Josh’s questioning look, she smirked a little. “Hey, according to a reliable source, they can’t throw Summer Arnold at you forever.”
The scowl on his face made Lizzie’s evening, and she caught herself chuckling.