Maeve really wanted to check out the bookshop, so we did that after we finished lunch. The restaurant wasn’t far from the shop, so I’d parked in my usual spot and walked down with Asher. Maeve thought it’d be perfect to walk back and enjoy the crisp spring air and sunshine, so Cal left his car in the parking lot, and we made our way down Main Street to Fairmont.
It was a little strange strolling through town with them. For six years, we’d lived here, and for two, I’d worked at the bookstore. Excluding the tourists, there weren’t many people in town that I didn’t know on at least a first name basis.
But I hadn’t realized that Maeve had grown up in this very town, or that many of the locals knew her because of who her father was.Istill couldn’t believe that Calum’s grandfather had lived in the same town as us. In all the years we’d lived there, I hadn’t walked into him once…had I?
Furrowing my brow, I tried to recall a time where I might have. No, I was positive I hadn’t. Frank Murphy didn’t have a forgettable face, and the last time I could remember seeing him was at one of their Sunday lunches in Lunenburg, a few months before Calum left.
Several people had stopped to exchange pleasantries with her. By proxy, everyone seemed to know Calum, too. I’d assumed it was because of his profession, but those who knew Maeve seemed to be familiar with him for that reason first, then star-struck by his success second.
Questioning stares accompanied us, but nobody addressed the elephant strolling down the street hand in hand. Even the small number of people who stopped us to say hello didn’t seem to need the verbal confirmation, they were merely just more interested in spectating up close than I was comfortable with. I’d have to get used to it, though.
We were no longer a boy and girl in love and on the cusp of adulthood. Not everything could be exactly as it once was. His profession and status alone changed that. People would always be interested in him, in the music he was making, in his personal life, and by proxy, they’d be interested in Asher and me.
Asher led the way, walking a little ahead of Calum and me with Maeve. She’d been asking him plenty of questions and had him chatting almost nonstop about school and his friends and what he liked to do for fun.
A woman in her fifties spotted Maeve from across the street. She wore a beige wool-blend coat and short brown hair chopped in a severe bob. Her dark eyes that seemed to express every thought that filtered through her head. At first, she had seemed confused, squinting at Maeve from across the street—as if she was trying to place where she knew her from. Then clarity cleared away her confusion, and she all but jogged across the road to approach them.
“Maeve Murphy! Is that you?” she exclaimed, her penciled in brows lifting with surprise. “I haven’t seen you inages!”
“Kathleen Burnham?” Maeve replied questioningly, and the woman nodded eagerly. “I thought you had moved to Vancouver?”
“Yes! I’m here visiting Mom for a couple of weeks. Just got in three nights ago!” The woman, Kathleen, smiled sympathetically at Calum’s mom. “I was so sorry to hear about your father. Frank was one of the kindest souls around.”
“Thank you,” Maeve said, her tone both warm and polite. Asher shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and looked back at us. His fidgeting brought the woman’s attention to him, and she smiled kindly at him.
“And who’s this handsome fellow?” Kathleen asked, her attention returning to Calum’s mother while she waited.
Calum and had I caught up and stopped on the sidewalk beside them. Kathleen’s interested gaze went to us—widening slightly at Cal’s tall stature, eyes dropping to take in our entwined hands before returning to Asher.
“This is my grandson, Asher.” She replied with the same kind of reverence my mother had when she talked about her grandson.
“Grandson?” Kathleen repeated with a subtle tilt of her head.
“You remember my son, Calum?” Maeve continued, placing a hand on Cal’s forearm beside her.
“Of course!” Kathleen exclaimed, eyes darting back to Maeve for a moment before returning to Calum. “Although…I haven’t seen you since you were a little boy about yay high,” she paused, lifting a hand mid-thigh before continuing with an airy laugh. “You probably don’t even remember me.”
“Yeah, sorry. Unfortunately, my memory doesn’t stretch back that far.” Calum chuckled, lifting his free hand to shake Kathleen’s.
“Oh darling, handshakes aresoinformal, and I’m practically an aunt.” She cooed, ignoring his hand and instead wrapping her arms around him in a hug while her curious gaze lingered on me for a beat. Calum had been holding my hand since the moment we started walking, and even then, he refused to let me go. I tried to tug my hand away, but he held fast, hugging Kathleen back with his one arm before she stepped back. “And I presume this is your wife?”
As if sensing my discomfort, Calum ran his thumb along the back of my hand until his thumb gently pressed against the knuckle of my ring finger. I turned to look at him, and his lips curled into a potent smile. The spark in his eyes informed me helikedhearing that. The gleam in his irises told me he was up to something, and I narrowed my eyes in warning.
He turned back to Maeve’s old friend and grinned. “Not yet, but I plan on rectifying that soon. Does that count?”
“Absolutely! Marriage is an outdated concept these days.” Kathleen Burnham’s lips curled in a slow, bemused smile.
“I don’t think it’s an outdated concept at all,” Maeve frowned a little.
“Well, yes, dear. But you’re the only one of us not divorced, so of course, you can say that.” Kathleen said with a smile that seemed false. She studied the three of us again for a moment before turning her attention to Maeve. “Well, I hate to cut it short, but I best be on my way. I’ve made Mother wait long enough—I booked a mani-pedi to escape her for a bit.” She wriggled her freshly manicured nails before wrapping her arms around Calum’s mom in a hug.
“It was wonderful seeing you again, Kathleen! Take care of yourself.”
“And you! We must meet up again for coffee before I head home.” She said, her arms falling away as she stepped back. “My flight home is the second weekend of May.”
“We’ll get together before then. Give me a call.” Maeve smiled. Her friend inclined her head and continued on down the street. After Kathleen Burnham had rounded the corner and we’d continued on our walk, Asher spoke up.
“What does rectifying mean?”
