Kate wanted to deny it, but Dani was right. For years, her life had been structured around Pop's needs, morning medications, afternoon confusion, evening wandering. Who was she without that responsibility?
Ben's truck pulled up outside, followed by another vehicle, a van with “Coastal Electric” on the side.
“What's that?” Kate asked.
“Electricians,” Dani said. “Lillian's contractor called them. They're rewiring the whole third floor today.”
“Nobody told me.”
“I'm telling you now.” Dani's voice was gentle but firm. “Kate, you have to let people help. That's what the money is for.”
Kate went outside, needing air and distance from the changes already reshaping her life. Ben unloaded more lumber but stopped when he saw her.
“Big day,” he said.
“Everything's happening so fast,” Kate said.
“That bothers you.” It wasn't a question.
“I should be grateful. I am grateful. It's just...” She struggled for words. “For so long I've held everything together with duct tape and stubbornness. Now suddenly there's money and nurses and electricians, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”
“You could take a break.”
“I don't know how to do that.”
“You could learn.” He tilted his head, studying her. “When's the last time you did something just for fun? Not for the inn or Pop or anyone else?”
Kate tried to remember. Before Pop got sick? Before Mom died? She honestly couldn't recall.
“That's what I thought,” Ben said. “Come on.”
“What?”
“Come with me. One hour. The nurse has Pop, the electricians have the inn. Dani can take care of the guests. One hour where you're not responsible for anything.”
“I can't just leave.”
“You can. That's the point.” He opened his truck door. “One hour, Kate. The place won't fall down.”
She looked back at the inn, then at Ben's patient face. “One hour.”
They drove to the harbor, where his small boat was moored. The March morning was bright but cold, the water calm and gray. Kate hadn't been on a boat in months, hadn't been on the water without working in even longer.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he helped her aboard.
“Nowhere. Anywhere. Does it matter?”
They motored out past the moored lobster boats, past the point where the Kennebunk River met the sea. Ben handled the boat with easy competence, and Kate found herself watching his hands on the wheel, the way he read the water without seeming to think about it.
“You grew up here,” she said. It wasn't a question.
“Born and raised. My grandfather built half the houses you can see from here.” He pointed toward shore. “That blue one? That was his last project before he retired.”
“And you followed in his footsteps.”
“Eventually. Tried college first, even worked in Boston for a couple years. But this place...” He shrugged. “It calls you back.”
Kate nodded, ”I know what you mean.”
