Forever Friends Read online

Page 8


  “So, my proposition,” Essie began carefully. “Have you ever been inside the Old Red Mill?”

  Renee nodded. “We used to hang out on the grounds in the summer, bonfires and stuff.”

  “Renee Rhodes, trespasser and rule breaker. I’m impressed. Well, it’s finally been sold and there are five leases inside. It needs work to get it up to snuff, but once it’s there… Oh, I just know it’s going to be the new hub for the town. So much potential. It’s mind-boggling. I want you to consider opening the anchor store—a pie shop.”

  “Me?” Renee nearly dropped her fork. “But what about Castaway Yarn? Bree keeps saying that they’re outgrowing their current space. Or what about Chickadee? Jill could host more art classes if she had the room.”

  “I love both those shops as much as anyone, but the first lease needs to be something universal.” Essie pushed her food to the side, having only eaten a few bites. “Everyone loves your pies. Children, teenagers, women, men. There isn’t one target group. It’s the sort of spot that everybody in town could and would appreciate.”

  “But I’m a hobbyist. It’s not as though I’ve ever been to business school or even had any professional training.”

  “So? You have raw talent. The rest you can learn.”

  Renee took another bite of quiche and mulled. On the one hand, thanks to Tansy’s USC scholarship, she had the startup funds. Ever since her divorce, she’d squirreled away money for college. She’d hoped Russ would contribute when the time came around, but knew she couldn’t rely on him. But as it turned out, Tansy’s full ride left Renee with quite an impressive savings account.

  Still, what if she funneled her nest egg into the pie shop and it went bust? The thought of flushing so many years of hard-earned money down the drain made her queasy.

  “I’ll think about it,” she promised Essie. “I mean it. I’ll consider your proposition, but I don’t make snap decisions. You know me, I’m a ponderer.” She needed to soak in her bath, the place where she did all her deep thinking.

  Essie looked appeased. “That’s all I could ask for! Ponder away.”

  Later that day, while she was powering down her computer and placing all of her paperwork into neat stacks, Dr. Dan stopped by her desk to say goodnight. It was something he did every evening and a bittersweet moment. She appreciated the gesture but hated that it meant them going their separate ways. It was nice to have someone to talk to throughout the day. It was nice to have him to talk to.

  He propped himself up on her desk, his long legs dangling down. She noticed his socks were mismatched. “Everything okay? You seem distracted.”

  “What was the tip-off?”

  “Maybe it was when you tried to apply a removable tattoo to Mrs. Smith’s hand rather than Ellie’s. I’m not so sure Elsa has the same broad appeal for thirty-somethings as she does for three-year-olds.”

  “Guilty as charged.” She smoothed a hand over her red hair. “The Old Red Mill has sold and Essie is looking to lease out spaces. She wants me to open a pie shop there, to be an anchor store of sorts.”

  It felt strange to say the words aloud, like she was trying out a foreign language.

  He shook his head, so excited he popped off the desk and started pacing. “It’s brilliant.”

  “Really?” Renee stood so she could pull on her jacket. They were only a few inches apart, and she imagined she could smell the lemon tang of his soap. “Do you think people would pay for my pies? I know everyone seems to enjoy them, but it’s not as though I’ve ever sold any before.”

  “One hundred percent,” he replied, so confidently, Renee felt tingles. He nodded toward her desk. “What was our word of the day? ‘Moxie’? I think it will just take a bunch of that.”

  Our word of the day.

  Our. Our. Our.

  It felt like her smile could light up the eastern seaboard. “Thank you, Dr. Hanlon.”

  “Dan, please. And I’m always here, if you ever need an ear,” he said, before quickly adding, “I mean, I know you have Tansy, and your sister, of course I just meant—”

  “No, thank you.” Was he flirting? He was, wasn’t he? Absolutely. Or maybe not. Gah, she was out of practice. She settled on, “I appreciate that.”

  She just wondered if he knew how much.

  * * *

  When she got home from work, she heated up a piece of rotisserie chicken and tossed herself a kale salad with hazelnuts and a tart vinaigrette. She ate her dinner with a glass of iced tea while perusing her favorite cooking blogs. But through it all, she daydreamed about the pie shop, the gingham curtains she’d hang in the windows and the mismatched plates she’d use to serve the warm, flaky slices.

  What would Tansy say? She reached for her phone, eager to share the idea.

  The phone rang four times before her daughter answered, breathless and distracted, as usual.

  “Hi honey. Did you have a nice day?”

  “Nice as a Monday can be.” Her tone was flat, impatient.

  “Right. I get that,” Renee said awkwardly. “What are you up to tonight? Homework and studying?”

  Tansy had always been a dedicated student, spending hours on her homework each evening, especially by the time her junior and senior years came around. Most weeknights, Renee would set a warm plate of supper on the edge of Tansy’s antique desk and gently close the door behind her.

  “I’m wading through this brutal philosophy paper on Nietzsche.”

  “Babe, I’m out. Same time tomorrow?” a male voice said in the background. Though the sound was muffled, his words were clear.

  “Let me guess.” Renee cleared her throat. “A study buddy?” Although Tansy had a few boyfriends through high school, none of them had been very serious, and she certainly hadn’t distracted herself by having them over while doing schoolwork.

  “Mom.” Tansy’s voice went from moody to straight-up cold. “School isn’t just books.”

  Renee didn’t have it in her to spar with her daughter, especially not over the phone and thousands of miles apart.

  “Well, I’ll let you go then,” she said curtly.

  Tansy either didn’t recognize the hurt in her mother’s voice or simply didn’t care. Almost relieved, she replied, “Yep. Bye.”

  Click.

  Renee took three deep breaths, the kind she practiced in yoga, to steady herself. Where had her sweet daughter gone and who was this stranger who had replaced her?

  If Tansy wasn’t going to be a good sounding board, that meant a bike ride to Bree’s place on the hill was in order. The exercise would be good, and her sister was the best listener. She’d have things to say.

  Renee pulled her vintage beach cruiser out of the shed and started off for Bree’s. Sadie and Lincoln were in their driveway tossing a colorful bouncy ball back and forth as she rode by. Looks like peace had been restored at the Landry household. Should she ask or let it be?

  She slowed down to say hi, to check in. “Hey Sadie, hey Lincoln.”

  “Hey Renee, thanks again for everything. I love your bike. I wish I had one.”

  Was it Renee’s imagination or did Sadie still look a little wistful.

  “Why don’t you borrow Tansy’s some time, and we can go for a ride?” she replied. “Catch up?”

  “I’d love that!”

  “Mama play!” Lincoln demanded, grabbing the ball out of Sadie’s hands.

  “Okay, I am seriously going to take you up on that,” Renee said as she took off down the quiet street toward Bree’s grand Victorian. Her sister had inherited the home from their parents following their mother’s death from breast cancer. Renee pressed the doorbell to the side of the ornate glass front door and waited. The front mat had an image of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. Perfect for Bree.

  “Hey there, sis.” Bree’s curly blond hair was pulled into a damp bun on top of her head, and her forehead was wrinkled into a frown. Her blue eyes looked big and a little wild. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

&
nbsp; Renee shifted her weight, slightly jarred by Bree’s unusual appearance. Her face was usually soft and smooth, her eyes bright and excited. “Sorry to pop in on you unexpectedly.”

  “No, that’s okay. I just finished a shower. Is everything all right?”

  She studied her younger sister. She definitely looked a little frazzled, a little distracted. “Mostly, yeah. Did I come at a bad time?”

  Bree hesitated before shrugging. “Sort of. I’m getting to the middle of this wicked sweater, and it’s got me pretty, um, occupied.”

  Strange. Depending on their difficulty level, Bree’s knitting projects always relaxed her or excited her. She didn’t even open the door. Clearly, she wanted to be left alone.

  Stranger still.

  “Ah, well…I’ll leave you to it then. I was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by.” Which was mostly true. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow night for dinner?”

  “Um, maybe?” Bree faltered.

  “Since when don’t you jump at the invitation of a free dinner?” Renee smiled, though Bree didn’t return the smirk. “I can make one of your favorites—maybe that brown sugar–crusted salmon?”

  “I just, I have a lot of stuff going on. But, um, thanks.”

  Okay. So, Bree was definitely hiding something, but what? The sisters shared everything. To the best of Renee’s knowledge, a secret had never existed between the pair. From the time Renee had accidentally left the medical practice unlocked for an entire weekend (nothing had been stolen, thank goodness) to Bree asking her sister to take her to the doctor for birth control in high school, they felt comfortable telling one another everything.

  “You’re acting weird,” Renee said, going the blunt route. Suddenly, an idea struck. “Do you have a guy over right now?” Like her, Bree wasn’t exactly active on the dating scene.

  “Ha, good one. But no. Just knitting a sweater. Like I told you before.”

  She pulled Renee in for a weirdly tender hug. Renee squeezed back, wondering just what was going on.

  “Enjoy the rest of your bike ride,” Bree said, gently, but firmly closing the door.

  With a heavy sigh, Renee peddled back home where she drew a hot bath. She poured lavender oil beneath the faucet and lit a candle. Then she settled into the warm water, positioned her gel eye mask, and skimmed an idle finger along her collarbone.

  Imagine if Dr. Dan visited the pie shop.

  “Oh, we’re about to close,” she’d say. Behind him, the windows would show off a gilded sunset. “Can I package you something up to go?”

  “Better make it sweet.” Dan would then flip the sign over, from open to closed, and lock the door behind him. “And I’d prefer to eat in.”

  He’d prowl behind the counter with a determined urgency, press her against the back wall and kiss her fully, nipping at her lower lip. His tanned hands would caress her arms, tease the sides of her breasts, the crease of her butt. He’d drag her hips to him, and she’d feel every bit of how excited he was…

  With a start, Renee sat up in the tub, slid off her eye mask, and sucked in a few deep breaths.

  Good lord. Her body hadn’t felt so hot since she fell asleep last summer sunbathing on her patio and could barely stand to wear pants for a week.

  Do not have sex fantasies about your boss, Renee.

  The Coastal Kids Medical Group had been a godsend after Russell left her. Dr. Brewer had hired Renee despite the fact that she had an English literature background rather than a scientific one. She was paid generously and been privileged to work a flexible schedule, meaning she could see Tansy off in the morning and be waiting for her at home in the afternoons.

  Even though Tansy’s childhood days were long gone, Renee would never jeopardize her position at the practice.

  It kept her feeling balanced, stable, needed.

  Dan Hanlon was hot—but so what? The last handsome man who made her heart flutter had left her alone and rejected.

  She released the drain and fumbled with the faucet.

  Time for a cold shower.

  Chapter Nine

  I really don’t think they’re up there.”

  “Well, I really think they are,” Sadie retorted to Ethan, giving the creaky ladder a shake to make sure she didn’t break her neck. Gingerly, she stepped on the first wrung.

  “Please get down from there,” he sighed, placing his hands on her hips protectively. “I don’t want my pregnant wife climbing a rickety old ladder.”

  She was on a quest to find the family’s Easter decorations, and even though Ethan swore the only items he’d ever stored in the attic were Christmas lights, she had turned the house inside out looking for the cardboard box of plastic eggs and miniature wicker bunnies. If they weren’t in the basement storage area, garage, or the catchall of a hall closet, where else could they be?

  Ethan stood below and spotted her as she made the rest of her way upstairs. “Shout for me when you want to come down, okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  Ethan and his laptop disappeared back down the staircase. Not only had he spent most of the workweek in Boston, Ethan had spent nearly every minute he was home on his computer. He would join Sadie and Lincoln for a quick dinner, and then retreat to his office until bedtime. Every day was filled with apologies, but that didn’t change the fact that today he’d set an alarm for six and had been staring at the screen ever since.

  She’d tried asking him more about his current project, but all he did was rattle on about Java until she felt like she needed a triple-shot latte.

  She knew he wanted her patience. And she was trying to find some the best way she knew how, by decorating.

  Etched-glass eggs, floral bunny serving platter, and seagrass Easter baskets—here she comes!

  Dust motes floated in the dim light of the attic. When they first moved to Seashell Lane, this area was supposed to be part of their home renovation. Sadie had fantasies of a home office with angled ceilings and skylights. That’s when she thought she’d be doing freelance work after the baby was born. She and Ethan would have split the space evenly, setting up their respective workspaces on either end and convening in the middle for coffee breaks and cuddles with their new babe. They would set up a Pack ’n Play for the baby to nap while they worked, and everyone would be one, happy family.

  Sadie sighed. If only that dream had come true.

  She peered around now. There was the box of Christmas lights Ethan had mentioned, as well as the reindeer and snowman that perched in the front yard last December. But most of the boxes were ones Sadie didn’t recognize. She wondered if the previous owners, the Brewers, had left them behind. Dr. Reggie Brewer had been Renee’s former boss at the Coastal Kids Medical Group. He and his wife had retired to North Carolina to be closer to their son, which was when Ethan had swooped in and purchased the cottage.

  When Sadie was up here in the attic, the musty air reminded her of Grandma and Grandpa. Despite Grandma Hester’s expertise in the kitchen, she’d never been much of a housekeeper. And once Grandpa Hank’s sight began to go, he wasn’t great about catching all the dust bunnies either. Sadie liked this smell just as much as the scent of Grandma’s pies baking. It made her feel cozy and warm. Safe.

  “Hello gorgeous,” she murmured catching sight of an antique steamer trunk in the very back corner. Maybe she could refinish the piece and use it as a coffee table.

  She crept over, fumbled with the brass latches, and pushed it open.

  The chest was filled with old photographs and countless sheets of yellowed paper. Some of the photos were in black-and-white but most were in faded color, and the paper was covered in elegant cursive. She picked up one of the photos, presumably of a mother and her young daughter. The woman was wearing some amazing plaid bell-bottoms and holding a pigtailed little girl in her arms. They both had the same button nose as Sadie, and her same sprinkling of freckles. She turned the photo over and read: “Hester and Melissa, May 1975.”

  It was Grandm
a Hester and her mom!

  Her heart beat faster.

  This wasn’t from the Brewers. This was her family.

  Sadie carefully pulled out photo after photo of family members past and present. There was her mother holding up a Barbie in front of the Christmas tree, and a snapshot of Grandpa Hank deep sea fishing. She set aside the pictures she wanted to share with her parents and Ethan, plus a picture of Grandma Hester taking a pie out of the oven to show Renee. She read the letters quickly, knowing she would read them again, much slower, much more carefully, later. They were love letters shared between Grandpa Hank and Grandma Hester.

  What a treasure trove!

  But when Sadie stumbled across a weathered notebook of sorts, its leather cover peeling off, she sensed she was uncovering something extraordinary. It was dusty and fragile but seemed to radiate a sort of power and happy energy. Gingerly, she opened the book and read the first page.

  “Hester’s Recipe Collection,” the author had written proudly.

  Sadie flew through the pages, reading recipes for potato casserole and oyster stuffing, before she found the section she’d been looking for: Desserts.

  And the very first recipe that was listed: Grandma Hester’s Whoopie Pies.

  Not burned. Not lost. Simply forgotten.

  “Mommy! Mommy, I awake!” Lincoln cried out, startling Sadie.

  “I’m coming, babe!” she called back, then raised her voice a little louder. “Ethan? I’m ready to come down the ladder now!”

  Brushing her hands off on her jeans, Sadie gathered the recipe book and assortment of family photos before Ethan appeared at the bottom of the ladder. He held his arms out as she carefully made her way down, ready to spring into action and catch her should she slip.

  “Thanks, honey,” she said with a smile, a warmth in her chest.

  “Of course.” He kissed her forehead. “Gotta get back to work.”

  Right then.

  Her smile fading, she set her findings on the dresser in her bedroom before going to retrieve Lincoln from his.

  “Hi sweetie. Did you have a nice nap?” She’d kept Lincoln up too late the night before playing and snuggling and the cranky toddler had definitely needed a little morning snooze.