“Well, it’s not about her, is it?” I bark. “It’s about Olive.”
We look at each other, and the shock in Liam’s eyes suddenly makes me all too aware of how ridiculous I sound. I cover my mouth with one hand and laugh at myself, then say, “That rant was brought to you by PMS. PMS, for the times you need to get angry in an instant.”
Liam chuckles and shakes his head. “I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.”
“Then you’ve been lucky.”
“Up to now, that is.”
Swatting him on the arm, I find myself laughing, and Liam joins me.
After a moment, he starts to imitate me. “Fucking morons putting on a stupid tea.”
“How dare they?” I say, mocking myself. “The bastards.”
When the moment passes, Liam sighs. “Thanks for getting it, Abby.”
“No problem,” I say, with a firm nod. “You can’t really understand unless you’ve been through it. Not that my situation is the same. But, in general, you know,grieving.”
“Yes, I knew what you meant. You had it perfect for a while, and when it ends, the world is never quite the same.” Liam gives me a sad smile. "But at least we both had it for a while, right?"
"Yes. Some people never even get that."
Chapter Eleven
A ship is safe in harbor, but that is not what ships are for.
~John A. Shedd
The next morning, Liam helps me move Isaac’s desk into my new office, then he goes upstairs to start knocking the wall down between the small master bedroom and the tiny one next to it. I spend the next few hours unpacking all my work-related items and setting everything up just how I like it.
When I finish, I make a slow circle, taking in the butter-yellow walls which brighten the north-facing space, and the white sheers that frame the large window. The built-in walnut bookshelves have been scrubbed and now hold dozens of books interrupted by framed photos and the odd candle. Isaac’s large mahogany desk sits in the center of the room, facing the window. My notebooks and laptop are in place, waiting for me to get started. Taking a deep breath, I inhale fresh stain. Hmm. I better let it air out for a few days before I spend too much time in here. Paint fumes aren’t exactly healthy. Plus, I should do the outside work while the weather is good. I can spend the entire long, Canadian winter holed up in here writing.
* * *
Gus and Colton arrive just as I start scraping the peeling paint off the window boxes. They get out of the truck, and Gus takes a long, skinny tool out of the back, then hands it to Colton, who looks none too pleased. His headphones are resting around his neck and he offers me a quick wave.
Gus inhales. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can’t use weed killer so close to the water like this.”
“Oh really?” I ask.
“Yup.” He gives me a sideways grin. "So, Colton’ll have his work cut out for him to pull all them dandelions. It’ll be several days’ work, maybe even a couple of weeks.”
I turn to Colton and smile. “You’re back for more, are you?”
“Apparently.” He shrugs.
Gus eyes my handiwork on yesterday’s flowerbed. “Not bad for a city girl.”
“Thanks. Where are you off to today?” I ask, hoping he’ll realize he should probably go now.
“Not far—Baddeck, then Iona, if I can manage it.”
Although I have no clue where either of those places are, I’d feel confident betting against him getting to both places in one day. “Okay, well, happy trails.”
Instead of leaving, he glances around some more. “You coming to the kitchen party tonight?”
“Not likely. I have so much to do around here.”
