Forever Friends Read online

  Sadie gaped—Dot wasn’t insinuating that she was overweight, was she? Sadie had worked hard to shed the baby weight, although she’d slacked in the last few months. She needed twenty-eight hours in a day to fit in all her jobs: nurse, short-order cook, playmate, teacher, housekeeper, babysitter.

  Who knows where the hours went. It was like living life stuck on fast-forward.

  “Okay, gotta go, kiddo.” Dot forever called her students “kiddo.” “Need to keep the old ticker over one twenty! See ya around.”

  Sadie sucked in her stomach and continued her walk. Wave caps broke in the distance and the air had a salty tang. Lincoln closed his eyes and smiled, the breeze tickling his cheeks.

  Just as they passed the Cranberry Cove Bank with its emerald-green shutters and orange brick, a police cruiser rolled to a stop.

  “Morning, Sadie. Lincoln.” Officer Tyler Cox tipped his hat like a movie star from an old western movie. He looked like one, too, with his eternal five-o’clock shadow and whiskey-colored eyes. “You two holding up okay?”

  Everyone knew Ethan commuted and the citizens of Cranberry Cove, especially the town’s small-but-mighty police force, were constantly checking in on Sadie as if they knew she was barely treading water.

  “We are, thanks.” Fake it until you make it.

  “I pee-pee!” Lincoln announced. “I make the silly pee-pee go in the tub!”

  Sadie wrinkled her nose. “Not our preferred location obviously, but we’ll take what we can get.”

  “You?” Lincoln pointed to Tyler. “You make the pee-pee, too?”

  Tyler cleared his throat and Sadie was willing to bet that her cheeks matched the Lobster Shack sign swinging over her head. “Okay then. Well, on that note, we’re really running late to see Dr. Hanlon. See you around.”

  At this rate, they were going to be twenty minutes past their appointment time. It would take a miracle for Dr. Hanlon to still see them, but rescheduling would be yet another item on her ever-growing to-do list.

  She only made it a few more steps before another interruption.

  “Where’s the fire?” Essie Park called from a bistro table in front of Morning Joe’s Coffee Shop, the Cove Herald opened next to her delicious-looking latte. Even though Essie was forty-something, she looked a decade younger with her light peach skin, jet-black hair, and chocolate-brown eyes. While the town’s number-one real estate agent always attributed her good looks to her Korean genes, Sadie couldn’t help but wonder if Botox played a helping hand.

  “Can’t chat.” Sadie refused to stop a third time. “We’re so freaking late.”

  “Well don’t slow down my account. I only wanted to pass along the latest bit of real estate news—the Old Red Mill finally sold. Isn’t that something?”

  “For sure!” Why in the world would that interest me? The question vanished as she finally barged through the front door of the Coastal Kids Medical Group. The walls were a calming shade of marine blue, and a saltwater fish tank lined an entire wall. Two children were standing in front of it, their breath fogging the glass while they inspected the clown fish and anemones.

  As usual, Renee Rhodes was perched at the reception desk in her high-backed ergonomic chair and she smiled brightly in greeting.

  “Hey, neighbor.” Sadie straightened her posture. “I know being fashionably late doesn’t apply to doctor visits, but it’s been a morning. Is there any chance we can still be seen?”

  Her next-door neighbor, Renee, would never be late to an appointment. Sadie used to babysit her daughter, Tansy, and she’d always arrived to an impeccably clean home that smelled of peonies and fresh-baked snickerdoodles. Renee would leave something delicious for dinner and have checked out the latest cartoon from the library for the girls to watch. The perfect mother. The kind of “together” woman Sadie had always imagined that she’d be

  “It’s late,” Renee admitted, after a glance at the clock. “But don’t worry, I’m sure Dr. Hanlon can squeeze you—”

  Before Renee could finish her sentence, another wave of nausea hit. This one meant serious business.

  “I’m sorry, can you take him for a sec? Please?” Sadie shoved Lincoln at Renee, bolting to the restroom.

  Before the door latched shut, she fell to her knees, vomited into the toilet, then slumped against the tile wall. Pressing a clammy, cold hand against her forehead, she gasped. “Stupid chicken thighs.”

  It was last night’s chicken, right? Yes, of course. It had to be.

  Because the alternative was simply too terrifying.

  Chapter Two

  Can you spy the orange-and-white fishy?” Renee Rhodes asked Lincoln, pointing to the saltwater tank. “You have to look hard because he swims fast!”

  The toddler nodded, fixing his gaze on the clown fish with nose-scrunched determination.

  “Great! Now see if you can spot the crab.”

  He clapped his hands and wiggled his little butt.

  God, kids were so sweet at this age.

  After ensuring Lincoln was hypnotized by the underwater world, Renee made her way to the watercooler to fetch his poor mama a drink. Sadie looked rotten, her freckled cheeks sallow and dark circles bruising the skin beneath her eyes. A far cry from the perky babysitter who would bring her daughter Baby-Sitters Club books and Popsicle-stick craft projects.

  She smiled as she held the glass under the tap. For nearly eighteen years, Renee’s calendar had been scribbled with bake sale reminders, PTA meeting times, and school performance dates. Her nights had been spent sneaking veggies into sauces, helping Tansy with homework assignments, and reading In the Night Kitchen a hundred times.

  Some might find it boring, but she had loved every second.

  Sadie was just starting that journey; a notion Renee sheepishly admitted made her a little green with envy.

  The Landrys had bought the one-hundred-year-old cottage next to her two years ago, when the Brewers relocated to North Carolina. Prior to the Brewers, Sadie’s grandparents had lived in the home. While the Brewers had been great neighbors, Renee loved the fact that the cottage was back with the original family.

  Before moving in, Sadie had had the house renovated. And, as an interior designer, she’d done an exceptional job. From the refinished hardwood floors to the recycled glass kitchen countertops and curated New England artwork, the Landrys’ cottage looked like something out of the pages of a home design magazine.

  And in addition to their gorgeous home, they had the best gift of all: little Lincoln, so curious and sweet. The early years weren’t easy, of course, but the happy memories eventually won out: watching your child take their first steps on the beach or getting a lick of ice cream.

  Her gaze strayed to the framed photo of Tansy on her desk. It was from her graduation last June. Her smile was big (and straight, thanks to a small fortune spent on braces) but her eyes were narrowed, the sun shining in her face. Her yellow National Honors Society cords hung around her neck and Renee’s mother’s diamond studs glinted from her ears.

  My beautiful, smart girl.

  Tansy was a freshman at the University of Southern California, worlds away from their little New England town.

  “I’m telling you, Mom, I love it here,” she’d declared only two weeks into the term, a time when most students struggle with the first pangs of homesickness. “I never want to leave. It’s like I was always meant to be in SoCal.”

  “Yeah? That must feel so…exciting,” Renee had said, trying to force a smile into her voice. “I guess California is the perfect place for the next Nora Ephron.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure, Mom.” Tansy had sounded strangely self-conscious at the comment.

  “What?” The two of them had swooned over Nora Ephron films for years, gushing over favorites like When Harry Met Sally. Tansy was an aspiring screenwriter, and they loved to dream she would be the next queen of romantic comedies.

  Tansy sighed. “I’ve gotta run to class. Chat tomorrow?”

  Except they never did
. Not the next day, or the day after that. It was left to Renee to reach out and more often than not, her calls were sent to voicemail. Texting had become Tansy’s preferred method of communication and Renee was eternally trying to decipher the subtext of animated gifs.

  Sadie stumbled out of the bathroom and Lincoln ran toward her, nestling his head against her thighs as if he couldn’t get close enough.

  “Here you go.” Renee handed her the glass. “Sip this. It should help.”

  “Thanks.” Sadie’s eyes didn’t match her smile. “Sorry about that whole production. I probably undercooked dinner. Or maybe I’m coming down with some spring flu…?”

  She stared at Renee for some sort of answer, like she was the designated adult in the room.

  “Also I’ve been having these crappy headaches. And mood swings. Crazy mood swings. And on top of that? I’m so wiped out all the time. Like I could pass out by two in the afternoon. Is that normal? You know, for life with a toddler? I mean I sound like I’m falling apart, don’t I?”

  There was no polite way to ask the obvious question, so Renee blazed ahead.

  “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

  The frazzled young mom shook her head with such force that she risked giving herself whiplash.

  “Oh, God, no. Not a chance.” She tried to laugh, though what came out sounded like a gasp or sob. “That’s impossible.”

  “Okay.” Renee nodded, understanding this was not a path she wished to travel down. “I’m sure it’s just a little virus then.”

  “Well if it isn’t Lincoln Landry!” Renee’s boss, Dr. Dan Hanlon, called, entering the waiting room, ending the awkward moment. He held up one of his big hands and Lincoln high-fived it with gusto. “Whoa there. You’ve gotten stronger since I last saw you! What’s your favorite green vegetable?”

  Lincoln clapped a hand over his mouth and giggled. “Broccoli.”

  “Sorry we’re so late,” Sadie apologized, her cheeks splotchy. “I don’t want to mess up your schedule, and completely understand if you don’t have time to—”

  “It’s no worry at all. Life with a toddler is the definition of ‘unpredictable.’” Dr. Dan smiled kindly. “Why don’t you and Lincoln head back to room three?”

  Sadie nodded gratefully, tucking a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear before marching off. Dr. Dan’s arm grazed Renee’s as he walked by, shooting her a conspiratorial “what can you do” shrug before following the pair down the hall.

  Her arm tingled from the contact and Renee bit her lower lip as she contemplated yet again just how well Dr. Dan’s ocean-blue eyes matched his tie, a tie she’d given him last Christmas.

  Not that it meant anything. It was just a tie. A tie she’d researched during a three-hour online shopping mission and a gift she’d wrapped three times before she got the bow exactly perfect.

  A simple tie. A boss gift. No big deal.

  Nothing to see here.

  Every morning, Dr. Dan passed along the tear-off from his word-of-the-day desk calendar. Today’s word? “Chary,” which meant careful, cautious. How appropriate. Best to be chary in this situation. She had no business crushing on her boss or his dead-sexy baby blues.

  Intensely private in some ways yet incredibly warm in others, Dr. Dan was a widower who knew his way around his forty-foot sloop moored down at the harbor. And lord, did he have the tan, craggy good looks to prove it—not to mention a darn near perfect shoulder-to-hip ratio.

  “I wanted to see all the fall foliage,” Dr. Dan had once given as a vague explanation for his move. “Not to mention a low cost of living and high quality of life.” Though according to Essie Park, who had sold him his log cabin out in the willy wacks, he’d come from away, seeking a change of scenery following the death of his wife.

  “Sounds like Sam Baldwin to me,” she could hear Tansy saying with her impish grin, referencing her favorite movie, Sleepless in Seattle. “Maybe he’s ready to find his Annie Reed?”

  Renee cleared her throat and her mind.

  Though Essie was well intentioned, she never met a story that she didn’t embellish. For all Renee knew, Dr. Dan had been a widower for years and was no stranger to the dating scene. He probably had a new fascinating woman on his boat each weekend.

  All that added up to mean that Dr. Dan’s bare left hand was a whole lot of none of her business.

  And even if he was available, he was her employer—a no-go zone, venture into that territory and there be dragons. Besides, why would he ever look twice at her, a homebody receptionist who hadn’t gotten any in a decade? If he wanted a catch there were plenty of fish with perkier boobs and sexier underwear.

  * * *

  At five fifteen, Renee checked out the final patient of the day, Eloise Collins with a double ear infection. The little girl clutched a stuffed rabbit to her chest, sucking her thumb.

  “Thanks again for squeezing us in.” Jack Collins signed his credit card receipt with a flourish. “I know the office closes at four thirty, but I’ve never seen Ellie like this.”

  “Don’t give it a second thought.” Renee smiled in understanding. “We couldn’t have Miss Eloise going all night in pain. The prescription Dr. Hanlon gave you will kick the infection fast. It always worked for my daughter. She was on the swim team, and if there was a single germ in the pool, I swear it found its way into her ear canal.”

  Jack nodded absently, helping his daughter into her bright pink jacket and waving goodbye. Renee watched them go, thinking of all the times she had to give Tansy eardrops. Tansy hated the sensation, so she’d always pop on the Disney Channel as her daughter relaxed her head into her lap. Working quickly and humming softly, Renee would drip in the antifungal medication, massaging her tiny earlobes after each dosage.

  She gave a wistful smile as she locked the front door and slid into her windbreaker.

  Kids—the reason parents lost it, and the reason they kept it together.

  Just then, a hand clasped her shoulder, the touch so unexpected and unfamiliar that she yelped.

  “Shoot! Didn’t mean to scare you.” Dr. Dan flashed an apologetic grin and took three brisk steps back, leaving ample personal space. “I just came out to say thanks for sticking around late. I’d have hated to send the Collinses to urgent care.”

  Renee nodded, barely able to process his words. How could she think of anything else when the warm sensation of his palm remained branded on her skin? “Thirty miles would feel like three hundred to a sick kid.”

  “You’ve got such a good heart.” He looked down at her with such intensity that it was either transfer her gaze to the carpeted floor or combust into flames.

  “You can count on me,” she muttered lamely, repeating the silly line her entire drive home.

  You can count on me?

  What was she, a loyal golden retriever?

  Renee parked her silver sedan on Seashell Lane and clicked the automatic lock button—always twice for extra measure, despite the fact that Cranberry Cove must be the safest town in America—before opening the gate to her picket fence. A cobblestone path led to her gray-shingled cottage. This house, her home for the past twenty years, was the second-best treasure from her marriage to Russell Rhodes, the first being Tansy, of course.

  Oh, Russ. They’d moved here at twenty-two—such babies!

  Did her ex ever think about their days here in the cottage? Did he ever regret the life he tossed away like a used tissue?

  When they first moved in here, she’d had a perfect picture of how her married life would turn out. Long walks together on the beach at dusk, skipping stones into the water. Four to six noisy kids. A house filled with love and laughter.

  Renee’s sigh felt loud in the silence. It wasn’t all doom and gloom. She had Tansy. And her garden: the phlox, forsythia, and lilacs, the blueberries and sweet fern—everything slowly waking from a long winter’s nap. She hugged herself close. The world was coming alive. It seemed so monumentally unfair to feel this empty inside.
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  “Hey there, mister!” Sadie was laughing next door. Renee could see them across the fence in their little kitchen, the window above the sink propped open. Lincoln was setting dish soap bubbles on his mother’s nose and cheeks, finding the effect hilarious. “What is Daddy going to say when he gets home? Think he’ll recognize me?”

  Lincoln broke into helpless giggles. “Mommy! Mommy! You look like Santy Claus!”

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!”

  Tears welled up in Renee’s eyes as she plopped on the wooden bench in her side yard and picked up a tiny stone bridge from the ground. It was part of Tansy’s childhood fairy garden, which Renee still tended to with such devotion, one would have thought she was caring for Versailles.

  She fished around in her purse until she located her cellphone.

  The phone rang four times before Tansy picked up with a breathless “Hey.” Music thumped in the background.

  “What’s up?” Tansy shouted. “Whatcha need?”

  “Hello to you, too.” Renee arched a brow. “I was just checking to see what you were up to.” Clearly not hitting the books.

  “It’s the Final Four tonight!” Tansy’s voice muffled as she pressed her lips too close to the mic. “Um, sorry it’s sort of loud! We’re getting ready to watch the game.”

  Renee flipped through her limited sports knowledge. Final Four, so that meant…

  “Basketball?”

  “Ding! Ding! Ding!”

  Renee bit her thumbnail, an awful habit she’d carried all the way from girlhood into middle age. “Since when are you into basketball?”

  “Whatever. It’s fun.” Tansy sounded a little loopy, a little too carefree. A distinctly male voice murmured in the background, right as her daughter gave a coy giggle. “Hey look, I’ve gotta run! Doing anything fun tonight?”

  “You bet,” Renee lied. “Off to Bree’s. We’re…um, making Italian. Lasagna, in fact. And we’re going to check out that new Rebel Wilson movie.”

  “Oh, haven’t heard of it, but sounds awesome!” Tansy accepted the fib easily, readily. “Give Aunt B a squeeze for me!”