She hadn’t told her family the real reason behind her breakup with Patrick. The truth mortified her, and she wasn’t a woman who embarrassed easily.
Bethany held up both hands in surrender.
“Message received. It was Trish at The Strand salon who mentioned how cute the guy was, but she’s a happilymarried woman so she won’t be making a play for the producer.” Bethany busied herself with straightening a row of purses above the shoe shelf while an old convertible sedan pulled into the parking lot nearby, music blaring at full volume with the top down.
“Yes, well, all I meant to say is that she could if she wanted to as I’m not going to pay any more attention to Remy Weldon than is strictly necessary.” Erin watched the boys and girls hop out of the car, laughing and shoving as they headed toward the back door of an ice-cream place. Even as a teenager, she hadn’t been the kind of girl to hang out with tons of friends, sticking close to her family until she’d been old enough to leave Heartache. She didn’t envy Sarah Weldon trying to find her way in the world as a teen without her mom.
“Remy Weldon.” Bethany sighed. “That sounds very French.”
“Cajun, actually,” Erin found herself saying. She folded a stack of camisoles with new speed, embarrassed to know way too much about him. “He’s got that warm honey accent to prove it.”
“Oh my, that sounds nice. You’ll have to excuse an old married lady for occasionally eyeing the hot young men in town.” Bethany picked up a bottle of leather cleaner from the ground beside her folding chair. “Scott has barely noticed me in the last year and it gets tough?—”
Her voice cracked a little. Erin set down a stack of silk blouses so she could give her a hug.
“I’m so sorry he’s being this way.” Erin squeezed Bethany’s shoulders. “I wish I knew what to say or how to help.”
“Me, too.” Bethany tipped her forehead to Erin’s for a moment before straightening. “But it’s like I’m out of wordswhen it comes to him. I don’t even know anymore if it’s his fault or mine. We just don’t ever have anything to say to each other, and when we do, it’s always so full of old resentments. It’s like we have this mean-spirited language we speak that only we understand and the subtext is full of unhappiness.”
Erin still found it hard to believe that Scott and Bethany—once the town’s Harvest King and Queen and longtime golden couple—could have drifted so far off course in their marriage.
“I just keep remembering how happy you both were when Scott took over Finleys’ and you left your teaching job to help.” Erin had worked part-time in the afternoons at the store while Bethany overhauled inventory and rearranged shelves to make them more appealing. “I know I was just a kid, but I recall thinking there was nothing you two couldn’t accomplish. You seemed like such a great team.”
“Once upon a time maybe we were.” Bethany straightened the last pair of shoes she’d cleaned. “Speaking of which, I’d better get going so I’m not late for today’s family counseling session.”
“Right. I’ll take over at the counter for Ally.” Erin knew that had been the deal when Bethany agreed to help out. “Thank you so much for being here.”
“We’re still family. That’s what we do.” She tugged the strap of her purse up her shoulder.
“Damn straight, we’re family.” Erin might have issues with her mother, but being away from Heartache had made her appreciate this place and these people all the more. Small-town was exactly her speed these days, even if she occasionally missed the access to more stores and restaurants. More culture.
As they exited the tent, Erin noticed a few kids onbicycles pull into the parking lot, loaded down with backpacks and gym bags. The local high school must have let out for the day.
Bethany helped her secure the one canvas wall so the clothing and accessories stayed safe inside. While they worked, a bicycle tire rolled into Erin’s peripheral vision.
“Ms. Finley?” Sarah Weldon, Remy’s teenage daughter, perched on the seat of a yellow three-speed bike with a woven brown basket on the front. The logo for the Heartache B and B—a pink heart with a crack—was stenciled on the front. “I love the highlights in your hair.”
The girl smiled and Erin remembered what her dad had called her—a powerhouse personality. Sarah might not be Remy’s flesh and blood, but she sure had his charm.
She wondered how deep it went or if it was the kind people put on for show.
“Thank you, Sarah.” Erin extended a hand to the girl. “It’s nice to see you again.” She introduced Bethany and noticed Sarah’s basket contained a big green garbage bag. “How are you enjoying your time in our little town? It’s a far cry from Miami, I know.”
“I love it!” She planted green tennis shoes on the pavement and steadied the bike by the handlebars. “You can bike everywhere without fearing for your life from crazy drivers, which was a good thing for me since I’ve been grounded and don’t get to drive my car again until tonight.” She held up her fingers to show that they were crossed. “I’ve also been researching some online coursework so I can keep up with classes while I’m here, and that’s kept me busy. But everyone around Heartache is sonice.”
“I like that about it, too,” Erin was glad to hear that Remy had coughed up some kind of punishment to keep hisdaughter accountable for her actions. Not that it was any of her business, as he’d been quick to point out.
Yet the intimacy of that quiet conversation with him, talking about his problems with his daughter while Sarah slept and the coffeepot gurgled…something about it had stuck with her, reminding her of all Erin was giving up by turning her back on dating.
“Let me see if Ally can step outside to say hello,” Bethany suggested. “Sarah, she’s a senior in the local high school. I’m sure she’d like to meet you.”
“That would be great!” Sarah’s sunny disposition didn’t hint at any problems back home, but Erin wondered what it had been like to lose her mom as a teen.
Erin had been a straight-up mess at Sarah’s age, and she hadn’t lost her mother—just struggled to stay level in a household where her parents’ ups and downs dictated everything in the Finley family. Although when Diana locked herself in her room for weeks straight and didn’t answer no matter how hard they knocked and pleaded, sometimes it felt like her mother had died.
“Here.” Sarah thrust the big green garbage bag at her, pulling Erin out of old memories. “Dad said you were collecting women’s career wear so I asked the innkeeper and a couple of her neighbors for donations. There’s nothing great in there, but I did score a couple pairs of barely worn leather pumps that will last someone a lot of years.”
“That’s fantastic.” Erin peeked in the bag, impressed at the energy and initiative from someone so young. “Thank you so much for doing that.”
