“I’m really sorry about all this,” Landon said.“Honestly, I didn’t think today would go this way.”
Celia turned in the foyer and zipped her jacket to her chin.The air between them felt taut.From upstairs came the sound of Mallory’s speaker, playing a Sabrina Carpenter song that Sophie also adored.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Celia said, surprising herself.
Landon’s eyes were searching.“Did you want to see me again?”
Celia marveled at the heaviness of the question, a question that seemed to demand something romantic from her long-dried-out heart.This, although she and Landon had never been romantic.Not really.
“Of course,” she said.“You were my best friend, Landon.There’s so much we still need to talk about.”
Landon’s eyes seemed to ache with intensity.Celia had to force herself to turn the doorknob.
“Wait,” Landon said, desperation in his voice.
Celia turned back, half expecting him to clear the distance between them, half expecting the kiss they’d never braved back in high school.
“I don’t know if you know a thing about me,” he said.“But I work as a marine biologist here in Bluebell Cove.I’ve devoted my life to upholding the safety and delicate ecosystem of the cove itself.It’s been an uphill battle at times, but we’ve made headway.The microbiome is intact.But now…” He glanced back at the sofa where his son slept.“There’s a major development being built on the beach, forest, and surrounding cliffs.It’s slated to destroy upward of 300 species in the area and wreak complete havoc on its ecosystem.Honestly, it boils my blood.I can’t understand why anyone would put Bluebell Cove at risk like this.Especially if you grew up here.”His eyes flickered.
Celia understood.Landon didn’t just want to catch up.He wanted to use her contacts and her journalism career to get the word out and stop the impending development.He expected her to care enough about Bluebell Cove and its ecosystem to help him save it.
It’s not that I want it to be destroyed, she thought, her mind reeling.But I don’t have time for this.I don’t have the contacts anymore.I don’t know what I’m doing in the journalism world.I don’t believe in it.
But before she could protest, Landon said, “It’s Hanson Smith, in case you were wondering.He’s the one building the luxury resort.He’s going to destroy it to get even richer.Please, CeeCee.Help me.”
ChapterNine
It stayed in Celia’s mind all that evening and into the next day.Hanson Smith is building a luxury resort.Hanson Smith is set to destroy Bluebell Cove’s ecosystem as we know it.When she finished a meeting with one of the construction workers regarding the inn’s slanted porch and what needed to be done to unslant it, another of the seemingly endless Bluebell Cove Inn-related meetings she’d had since agreeing to take over for her sisters, she threw up her hands with frustration, grabbed her phone, and googled Hanson Smith for the first time since the year 2001.Hanson Smith, Bluebell Cove.No surprise that multiple websites listed him as one of the wealthiest men in Maine and the most powerful man in Bluebell Cove.He’d taken over exactly where his father had left off.
It was hard to believe that once upon a time, she’d thought Hanson was special.In her silly, crush-filled seventeen-year-old brain, she’d thought he was the one.
But could Celia really find it in her to help Landon with his cause?So much had happened between her and Hanson.So much of it was better off forgotten.It felt like the past was trying to repeat itself.
Celia still stayed in the hotel she’d opted for that first night in Bluebell Cove and had created from the little space a homey feel: hanging her clothes and purchasing more and more snacks and toiletries so that she didn’t have to leave the room for small essentials.She had a fun rapport with the woman who worked at the front desk most nights, a woman who’d moved to Bluebell Cove long after Celia had vacated it.
The night before Sophie planned to fly to Maine, Celia switched to a bigger room with two double beds and spent hours researching rental properties surrounding the Bluebell Cove Inn.They would need somewhere more sensible for the summertime: a temporary place they could call home.She was pretty sure that Ivy had a spare room, but she hadn’t spoken to Ivy at all since she’d agreed to take over the inn, and she wasn’t keen on asking her for help now.Sometimes she saw her out the window of the inn, coming to and from the family house that was now hers, occasionally with her teenage kids by her side.There was a boy and a girl, a niece and a nephew, whom Celia had never met.She wondered how close they’d been to her father, their grandfather, before he’d died.Maybe they knew him only as a kind-hearted, very sick older man.
And maybe James Harper had been peaceful and kind in old age.If she’d met him like that, would she have found a way to forgive him?She didn’t know.
Celia sent a few inquiries for rental houses, then answered Juliet and Wren’s text message questions regarding the work at the Bluebell Cove Inn.She wrote a list of the current construction projects, a slated “open by” date, andEverything is going to plan so far.As far as she knew, Juliet was back in New York City, living her elegant and fashionable life with “people who relied on her,” whatever that meant.Celia was too busy to worry too much about what Juliet was hiding from them about her real life.Wren was who-knew-where, as usual.The night after their cozy dinner in Juliet’s hotel, Wren had disappeared but sent text messages maintaining how okay she was and how grateful she was that Celia could take over.Celia didn’t know what to believe.
But Wren was thirty-four years old.She had to know how to take care of herself by now.Still, it stuck in Celia’s mind how frightening it had been when Wren had collapsed like that.Eat enough food, little Wren, she thought.
The following morning, Celia drove to the airport and stalled at arrivals until Sophie wheeled her massive suitcase onto the sidewalk out front and spotted Celia and her rental immediately.Celia yelped and ran over to her daughter, throwing her arms around her.Before she got a chance to say how happy she was, an airline worker yelled at them to “move their idling car!”Sophie and Celia hurried back, giggling.For a moment, Celia felt like they were co-conspirators, back together after too many months apart, ready to wreak havoc.But as she pulled away from the airport, she studied Sophie and saw how tired and withdrawn she looked, how run-down by the world.Celia swallowed a lump in her throat and asked Sophie about her flight from Oregon and the last days of her finals.
Sophie raised her shoulders.Her chin wiggled with sorrow and shame.“Gigi and Max left for their internships yesterday,” she said.“I felt so pathetic.”
Celia reached for her daughter’s hand and squeezed it.She searched back through her twenty-plus-year career in journalism for advice but realized the only real “advice” she could lend related to the current failure of her career—and she hated to admit that.She didn’t want Sophie to worry more about Celia than her own future.She didn’t want Sophie to think her mother was washed up.
As they entered the little town of Bluebell Cove, Sophie’s eyes widened, and she whipped her head back and forth to take in the sharp coastline, the frothing ocean, the harbor, and its numerous fishing boats.The lighthouse towered over that same harbor and brought Bluebell residents back to shore.“Mom,” she repeated three times.“I can’t believe you’re from here?Like, it’s insanely pretty?”
Celia laughed nervously and squeezed the steering wheel.
“You always told me that this place was a nothing place,” Sophie said.“You said it was the kind of town where people gave up.”
Celia stuttered, trying to remember having said that.She knew that Sophie had a brilliant memory.She’d taken everything Celia had said into her like a sponge.
“I think people give up everywhere,” Sophie said before Celia could answer.“I think they give up in the big city.I think they give up abroad.I think the world gets to them, and they give up like that.”She snapped her fingers.“I don’t want to.Not yet.But maybe I get it?I don’t know.”
