Anything could have happened in the time it took for Angie to respond. She could have punched Sam in the face. She could have stormed off. She could have told Sam to go fuck herself. She could have called Daniel and demanded he come here so they could sort everything out. The world could have ended. Instead, the redhead inclined her head back toward Sam, her crinkle-edged eyes now soft and hesitant.
“How’re you gonna tell him?”
“That’s what I need you for.”
Hope lifting her like an injection of helium, Sam rose and bounced over to the other woman. Her gears turned and spun as plans and thoughts and ideas and requests formulated in her head, organizing themselves into a tight order she could efficiently explain. There was so much to do, and every second she wasn’t doing something was another second Daniel believed she didn’t love him.
“I’m listening.”
Their “listening” turned to four hours of conversation and phone calls, condemnations, tears, and apple crumble. And when it was all over, Samantha left the park with renewed hope and an entirely fresh sense of dread. Sometime during their planning, they each built their own to-do lists to complete by the next time they met. The first item on Samantha’s list?
“What do you want?”
Nan’s house was everything Samantha expected it to be. The tiny cottage could have been ripped from the illustrations of a Beatrix Potter novel, with its lush garden and smoking stone chimney. Even from her place on the small porch, she could see the entire house was stuffed with tchotchkes and trinkets from a life well lived. But the woman’s withering stare—the stare of a woman ready to take on an entire army—made it pretty clear that she wouldn’t be getting a closer look inside. The woman wore an oversize raincoat, as if she’d planned to go out for a walk but couldn’t bear the thought of going out when the sun was shining so brightly. Even after going over this interaction in her mind countless times, Sam’s request still stuck uncomfortably in her throat.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“No.”
She’d been expecting something likeI’m afraid I’m rather busyorI’m frightfully late for an appointment, but it seemed that Nan wasn’t messing around today.
“But it’s about Daniel.”
“Iknowit’s about Daniel. That’s why my answer is no.”
“Angie told me you’re the only person he listens to anymore.”
“So.” She sniffed and crossed her arms. “You thought you’d get me to put in a good word?”
“No.”Deep breaths. Just breathe. “I wanted to apologize to you.”
The angered, tense lines of Nan’s face slipped into drawn shock. “Me?”
“Daniel means a lot to you. And I hurt him. So…” Sam swallowed hard. This was the right thing to do. Just because it was something she wouldn’t have done before she lost Daniel. “I hurt you. And I’m sorry.”
“Ah. Well. I—”
The halting response fell to the wayside when Sam spotted something strange over Nan’s shoulder. Though there was a large water stain on the hardwood floor of her entryway, the ceiling directly above it had been patched over. Without her consciously deciding to do it, she smiled and exclaimed, “Oh, they fixed it.”
“Fixed what?”
“Your roof. Daniel told me there was a leak, and—”
The hardness of Nan’s eyes broke, and it seemed to Sam that she was being looked at for the first time, as if Nan had never met her before and was only just now understanding her. “You sent those men to fix my house?”
“It just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Yes. Well.” The older woman stiffened, tugging on her sleeves and not bothering to look at Sam again. “They did a fine job.”
“I’m glad. I’ll send them back next week to fix the floorboards.” Shoving her hands in her pocket, she tried to remind herself why she’d come here. Not to win Daniel back, but to be able to live with herself. The apology wasn’t to weasel her way back into Nan’s good graces, but to know in her heart that she’d done the right thing. “Well. Thanks for talking to me. I’d better go home.”
“Wait.” Sam’s heart hovered in her chest before slamming against it in a furious, grateful tear. “Would you like to come inside? I’ve just put the kettle on. We could talk.”
“I’d like that very much.”
The gesture wasn’t a huge one. It wasn’t a promise of things to come or even a hint that Daniel could ever forgive her. But it was a start.
Chapter Twenty-Four
