“Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Before I hang up, have you seen him?”
Her question gave Brooklyn pause, and she almost stumbled over a protruding tree root. “No, and I don’t plan to.”
“Sure, ya don’t.” Rennie giggled. She said goodbye before hanging up, leaving Brooklyn with a scowl on her face. She glanced behind her, along the path that she and Austin had once walked, hand in hand, and tried to wipe her memories clean. She needed to move on, to bury the past and let it go.
Her phone chimed in her hand, a message from Rennie. She opened it, and her heart lurched. Staring back at her was a group photo from prom. One of her friends had asked Rennie to go with him, which had pleased Brooklyn. Brooklyn expanded the picture and studied herself, Austin, and the guy standing on the other side of her. Inseparable was what they used to be.
FOUR
Bowie went to knock on the wooden door, something he’d rarely done when he was growing up, and paused, his fist suspended in midair. He tried to come up with a valid excuse why he hadn’t been around, why he hadn’t stopped in to check on his best friend’s mother, why he hadn’t thought to bring his wife around and introduce her to the woman he used to consider a second mother. He came up with nothing.
He dropped his hand and contemplated returning to his truck. As much as he needed the job, he wasn’t sure if he could face the person he had become after Austin’s death. He was a shell of the man he used to be, but that was no defense for abandoning the woman who had taken care of him as if he were her own child.
He turned around and walked toward his truck. He had no business being here. As far as he was concerned, the job needed to go to someone that cared about the inn and the people who lived there. That wasn’t him.
“Leaving so soon?”
Bowie stopped at the sound of Carly Woods’s voice. He turned slowly to find her leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed over her chest. Aside from graying hair, she looked no different from what he remembered. He hung his head in shame and desperately searched for the words to tell her how sorry he was. It had taken him years to get over the passing of his friend, and most of the time, it still haunted him. His actions surrounding that day were never far from his mind.
“The answer is no, Bowie,” she said, pushing away from the doorjamb. “Come in; we have business to discuss.”
His steps were heavy as he made his way to the house. He shut the door quietly behind him and let the feeling of being in her home again settle in. Everything was exactly as he remembered. The flowered wallpaper still hung; he used to pick at the corners when he was little, and Carly used to call him an imp for it. He shifted his weight and smiled instantly at the familiar creak the floorboard made. No matter how many times he and Austin would try to sneak out, this piece of wood gave them away. He closed his eyes and with vivid clarity recalled sliding down the banister of the staircase. He could hear the laughter of his friends, the adults in the house telling them to knock it off even though that never stopped them. He could smell freshly baked cookies, could even taste the warm chocolate as it hit his tongue. There were many hours spent here while growing up. He fell in love here for the first time, with someone who never saw him for who he was until it was too late.
The sound of coughing pulled him from his daydream, and he followed the noise into the other room, where he found Carly bent over and her longtime housekeeper rubbing her back. Simone must’ve heard him come in because she met his gaze, offered a sad smile, and turned her attention back to Carly.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked. Simone shook her head.
“This will pass in a moment. Why don’t you have a seat in the dining room? We’ll be there shortly.”
Bowie continued into the other room. Instead of sitting down, he walked along the edge of the room, bouncing on his feet. He was feeling for weak spots in the foundation out of habit and taking mental notes of what would need replacing if he were to take the job. Oh, who was he fooling? He would take this job. Not because he needed the money, but because he owed it to Carly . . . and to Austin’s memory. He decided then he would repair the carriage house for no additional profit. He’d do the work himself, bring the homestead up to code. It would be his way to make amends.