“So do I.”
Eliza leaned back, wiping her eyes. “I keep hoping Grant and I will get another chance to do it right. With Ben, Grant missed everything, and I know he mourns the loss. I do, too. Even though I had my parents, Luke, Maggie, and a community of support, there were still moments I felt alone. Moments I missed Grant so much it hurt. Hearing Ben’s heartbeat for the first time, feeling him kick.” Her voice caught, and she gathered a steadying breath. “I want to share those memories with him. I want to share the happiness, heartache, exhilaration, and exhaustion. There’s something special about going through it all together, you know?”
She did know, and her heart ached for her friend and all the regrets she carried with her. She couldn’t imagine exactly how Eliza felt, but she did know the sorrow of living life looking over your shoulder, focused on what could have been.
Cassie reached for her free hand, hoping her touch could speak the words that wouldn’t come. What could she say? That the future couldn’t undo the past, but you could still find joy in the present? That you could be grateful for the life you have while also grieving what may never be? Both nebulous concepts that offered little solace in the present sorrow.
As if sensing she needed a tangible reminder of life’s blessings, Eliza’s son, Ben, bolted through the back door, bursting with youthful excitement.
“Mom! Aunt Cassie! Guess what?”
“What?” Eliza straightened, swiping beneath her eyes to dispel the lingering traces of her tears.
“Sorry, he got away from me.” Grant chuckled, stepping into the courtyard. He adjusted his glasses, squinting in the glare of sunlight. “By the way, did you know Ryder is eating profiteroles off the floor?” His grin faltered when he noticed their red, puffy eyes. “Is everything okay?”
“Better than okay.” Eliza conjured a smile. “Luke and Cassie are having a baby.”
“No way!” Grant beamed. “Congratulations, Cass. That’s incredible news.”
“Thank you.” Cassie returned his smile. For the first time in days, she felt a wave of relief. By accidentally spilling the news, her mother had inadvertently afforded her the support she craved. “Luke is beyond excited, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate talking to you about it, but please don’t mention it to anyone else yet. Now that the secret is out, we’ll start telling people. But Maggie doesn’t get back from her trip until tomorrow. I don’t want her to find out through the grapevine before we get a chance to tell her.”
“My lips are sealed.” He mimed tugging a zipper closed, and Cassie fondly observed the globs of dry paint on his fingers. He’d become quite the artist lately, designing fewer websites in favor of spending more time at his easel. They’d sold several of his pieces in the café, and he’d even taken on some commission work. His entire life had changed since moving back to Poppy Creek, and yet he made the shift from workaholic bachelor to full-time dad look effortless. Enviable, even. Did he ever have doubts? Did he ever miss the version of himself that existed before becoming a father? Or did he like this amalgamation better?
“Does that mean I’m getting a cousin?” Ben asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Sure does.” Eliza ruffled his shaggy blond hair.
“Cool! A boy cousin or girl cousin?”
“We don’t know yet,” Cassie told him. “But we should find out soon.”
“I hope it’s a boy. I’ve always wanted a brother to play catch with me.”
Cassie’s chest squeezed as she caught Grant and Eliza’s quick, wistful glance. She forced a brightness into her voice. “I’ll see what I can do, but you can play catch with a girl cousin, too.”
“That’s true, I guess.” Ben shrugged, his nine-year-old attention span already on a different topic. “Guess what? I get to be the blacksmith apprentice for the festival!”
“That’s wonderful, Bug!” Eliza stood to give her son a congratulatory hug.
Cassie nodded along, trying to match Ben’s enthusiasm as he raved about all the cool tools he’d be able to use under the watchful supervision of Mac Houston, who’d be trading his title of town grocer for head blacksmith for a day.
Among the children in town, the blacksmith’s apprenticeship was the most coveted role on Reenactment Day, followed closely by candle maker and bread baker. Her heart warmed at Ben’s animated ramblings, and she wondered if she’d be sitting here listening to her own child one day.
Before she met Ben, she had zero experience with kids and had felt completely clueless when tasked with babysitting him on her own. But she’d quickly fallen for his innocent sweetness and had loved their time together. She’d also learned that they shared a special kinship, since they’d both grown up without a father. Watching him now, with Grant’s hand resting on his shoulder in such a simple yet intimate gesture, her heart hummed with happiness for Ben, while also harboring her own deep-rooted longing, still unfulfilled.
Her thoughts drifted to the private conservation she’d had with Landon several weeks earlier. His friend had created a proprietary software that could locate a person of interest anywhere in the world with minimal data. It sounded like the kind of spyware technology limited to Hollywood’s imagination, and yet, she’d seen it work first-hand when it reunited Sadie’s grandmother, Gigi, with her former flame, Abélard Dupont. The two lovebirds were now inseparable. But in their case, the program had access to a wealth of information found in Abélard’s handwritten letters, not to mention the samples of the handwriting itself.
In Cassie’s case, she had next to no details to share, other than her own suspicions that her father had either lived in Poppy Creek or a nearby town. She’d also supplied Landon’s friend with personal data that could be used to narrow down possible genetic markers, but even so, the odds weren’t in her favor. Unless she finally convinced her mother to reveal more about her past, she had little hope of finding her father.
As if privy to her thoughts, Eliza placed a hand on her arm, startling her back to the present. “Cass,” she said gently. “I think you should talk to your mom.”
CHAPTER9
DONNA
Donna stood on the balcony of her suite, overlooking the picturesque garden below. As she scanned the lush, verdant lawn, she noted several spots that would be ideal for her morning yoga practice. At the thought, a melancholy suspicion cinched around her chest. Would Stephanie continue to practice on her own? She’d laid out a simple routine she could follow in her absence, but she had niggling doubts that Steph would be disciplined enough to follow it.
Donna stepped back inside and plucked her phone off the nightstand. No missed calls or messages. Why hadn’t Stephanie called yet? She tried to keep her thoughts from drifting down dark and twisty alleyways, which all led to Stephanie slumped on the floor with an empty liquor bottle in her hand.
