CHAPTER 7
Harper took a deepbreath. The check for Mason was heavy in her hand. Instead of coming the next morning like she’d planned, it had taken Harper three days to work up the courage to come deliver the envelope. Three days of knowing she would need to face the guy she liked and walk away for the last time.
Mason, of course, had no idea how significant this moment would be, but Harper did. And her heart was breaking over it.
But how else can I save my life?
She’d been trying to keep her focus on her painting and the marketing side of her business. Revamping her website, starting a small ad on social media. She was dipping her toe into new waters, praying desperately that something would help her see the progress she longed for.
But the envelope for Mason had been like an albatross around her neck. She was too scared to face him and yet too full of yearning to hand it off to someone else. Fortifying herself, she knocked firmly on his door.
She could do this. She had to do this.
She waited...her toes bouncing in her shoes, but no one came to the door. Frowning, Harper tried again. Mason worked from home. Where could he be? She took a careful peek through one of the windows. The home was dark.
Huffing, Harper walked back to her car. “So much for choosing to be courageous,” she grumbled. All that wasted time...for nothing.
She spent the rest of the afternoon trying to ignore the unfinished task, but after dinner, it ate at her again, pushing her to her feet and back to Mason’s house.
Once again, she knocked. This is it. It’ll all be done soon.
The porch light wasn’t on and no lights glowed in the home either. Harper realized Mason was still away from the house. She walked back to her car, wondering where he could be. They all had the same friends... Surely one of them would know if he was out of town.
Punching in her Bluetooth, she called Aspen on her way home.
“Hey, Painter Extraordinaire, what’s happening?”
“Hey, Aspen, do you know if Mason is out of town? Or does Austin know?” Harper made a turn and pulled out into traffic.
“Oh, ho!” Aspen crowed. “Just why do you need to know?” She dropped her voice dramatically. “Come on, Harp. Tell me everything.”
Harper sighed. If only Aspen knew the big complicated mess that was her life. “It’s nothing like that,” she assured her friend. “I just got some mail for him by accident and tried to deliver it twice today, but his house is dark. I don’t want to keep wasting my time if he’s out of town.”
“Ah, well, that’s not nearly as exciting as I hoped it would be,” Aspen grumbled. “Hang on.” Shouting could be heard from the other side of the line and Harper pulled it away from her ear, wincing at the noise. Those Harrison sisters really knew how to be loud when necessary.
The line was quiet for a moment and Harper was beginning to think she’d lost the connection. “Aspen? Are you there?”
“Yep,” Aspen said. “I’m just waiting for Maeve to work up the courage to ask Ethan if he knows where Mason is.”
“Why does it have to be Maeve?” Harper asked. She knew as well as anyone else that Maeve couldn’t stand Ethan. Something to do with a childhood situation gone wrong, though Maeve refused to share what it was. Ethan didn’t appear to let the situation bother him, but he also didn’t offer up any explanations.
“Because I think it’s time she grew up and forgave him,” Aspen said loudly, obviously wanting Maeve to hear her words. More shouting...this time followed by what sounded like shuffling and fighting.
“Oh, good grief.” Harper groaned. She pulled into her garage and shut off the car. This wasn’t getting her anywhere. “Aspen, I have to get back to work. If you hear anything, can you let me know?”
“Hang on, Harp. Maeve headed over.” There was an unholy amount of glee in Aspen’s voice.
Harper rubbed her forehead. All she wanted was to know when she could get rid of this envelope and therefore get rid of her crush. In her mind, they were one and the same at this point. Hand over the envelope, mentally and emotionally say goodbye, and viola! She was free and clear of any and all obligations. She’d only see him at friend gatherings from here on out.
Easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy.
“Ethan said Mason had a family emergency,” Aspen said, her voice more subdued than before. “He should be back next week.”
Harper’s heart sank. “Is he okay?” she asked before she could think better of it. No! she scolded herself. Don’t get involved. Harper shook her head. Friends cared, right? She’d care if Harper had a family emergency. Mason was still her friend, even if she was saying no to anything more. She could care and not get too involved...she hoped.
“He doesn’t know,” Aspen admitted. “But it sounds like he left in kind of a hurry.”
“Okay, thanks,” Harper said. She headed inside. “I’ll chat with you later.” Shutting off her phone, she dropped it and her keys on the side table and walked to the couch, falling into its softness. She studied the envelope. “Guess I’ll just have to give you back later.”
Once again, that weight sat on her shoulders. She wanted this done now. Needed it to be over. As long as she kept thinking about Mason, and now worrying about him, she wouldn’t be able to give enough attention to her work, and she was desperate to finally make some headway on her road to independence.
Harper shook her head. “No. I’m in control here.” She straightened and dropped the envelope on the coffee table. She refused to give it another thought until next week. Once Mason was home, the problem would be over. Until then, she would simply be a grown up. That’s what women do.
If there was anything Harper retained from her mother’s story, it was that she could handle anything life threw at her. She could fix her business. She could make it succeed. She could win against her mother’s machinations, and she could definitely get one handsome lumberjack out of her head.
Walking to her art room, Harper turned on the light and went to her current work in progress. She tilted her head, trying to look at it objectively, but it was no use. She hated it.
Three days of work, three thrown away canvases. She had been trying to shift her style to be more like the past winners of the award, but it just wasn’t working. Harper had certainly learned abstract painting during art school, but it had never resonated with her. It felt like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole.
Sighing, she threw the picture into the discard pile. Time to try again. She needed to be bold, to draw out emotion, and to really put together something eye-catching.
Pulling up another canvas, she grabbed her stool and prepped her tools. She could do this. There was no other option.
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