“Oh, I'm sure it could work,” Ryan said, shaking his head a little as he processed the idea. “That would be fantasticmarketing for both restaurants, especially during tourist season.”
“I got the idea earlier today,” she told him, popping one of the blackberries into her mouth. “I was thinking about the feud, and I was wishing there was some way we could totally erase it, you know? I love the idea of you running the brewery now and that whole thing being over for good, but I wanted there to be a more tangible expression of that. I think this would do it.”
Ryan wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. “It absolutely will,” he said, squeezing her tightly. “Thank you so much for being willing to help me with all this, sweetheart. It means so much to me that you've jumped headfirst into this new adventure with me. It shows me how much I can depend on you and that means the world to me.”
“Of course,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You know I've got your back.”
He smiled at her, and she thought she detected a faint glimmer of tears in his eyes. She was surprised to see it, since her boyfriend tended to joke and act goofy more often than he showed deep emotions. “I feel as though we could handle anything together,” he told her softly. “And I don't know what I would do without your love and support.”
“Well, you don't have to know,” she told him, lifting her face up to his. “You have all my love and all my support.”
They shared a tender kiss, and Faith felt her excitement about the future grow even more.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Vivian set down her coffee cup and leaned back in her chair, stretching a little. She had another day off at home, but she was feeling far from rested. She had spent the morning trying to not think about the money that Frank had left her, and she'd read a book out on the back porch while enjoying a cup of coffee. Although it had been a lovely experience, especially because the weather was so delightfully warm and yet hinting at autumn, she felt restless. She didn't like feeling on edge in her own home, but every time she let her mind wander, it inevitably went straight back to the thought of the money that was lying in the safe.
I've got to forgive Frank,she thought to herself, taking a deep breath.Sally was right. That needs to be the first step. Then I can just relax and do something with the money when I think of it.
She closed her eyes, picturing her husband and feeling a surge of hurt and wistfulness. She missed him a great deal, and she wished that her memories of him were untainted by his secrets. But she knew that she needed to accept her reality and forgive him for what he had done. For the most part, he had been a wonderful husband and father and she was determined to focus on that.
“I forgive you, Frank,” she whispered, and although she could sense in her gut that it was still only partly true and that it would take a while for her to fully release the resentment she felt, she felt her heart grow lighter. She had taken the first step in the right direction, and she would get there as long as she persisted.
She opened her eyes again and smiled. Sally had been right, and all at once the money didn't seem like such a terrible thing anymore. She glanced down at her book, which was lying open on her lap. She had been enjoying it, but she still felt a little restless and decided that she would come back to the porch to read more later.
She tucked a bookmark into the crisp white pages of the novel and set it down on the table beside her chair. She picked up her empty coffee cup and wandered into the kitchen, which was tidy and spotless except for the frying pan and plate that were the casualties from her earlier lunch. She considered washing them up right away, but then the thought of cleaning caused her to think of something else.
She glanced up at the ceiling, thinking of the attic. She had meant to go through the keepsake chests and some of the storage shelves, getting things more organized and perhaps throwing away some things she no longer needed and that weren't sentimental to her. She’d stopped her reorganizing project the last time she'd been up there because of finding the money. She realized that she'd been avoiding the attic ever since, not wanting to think about the whole thing.
No time like the present,she thought briskly, starting toward the attic. She was halfway up the staircase when she realized she would probably want to dust some items as she went along, and she turned around and made her way to the basement to get some cleaning supplies.
A couple of minutes later, she was climbing the staircase to the attic, feeling a surge of sentimentality and a bittersweet ache in her heart. She felt almost nervous to go through old keepsakes, worried that seeing everything now would make her feel differently about her past with Frank. She shook her head, determined to not let herself get too upset by what had happened. She vowed to stay as positive as possible, reminding herself that Frank had been a good husband and that nothing had taken away the fact that he’d loved her and the children very much.
She opened another one of the keepsake chests, not feeling ready to continue to look through the one that had held the money in it. This chest was filled mainly with photo albums, and she pulled one of them out and set it in her lap. She knew that she didn't need to look through the photo albums in order to organize the attic, since photos were certainly not something she was ever going to get rid of, but she was feeling overcome by a nostalgic mood and she wanted to look at the pictures of her children when they were little and of her husband when she had trusted him completely.
She combed through page after page of old memories, feeling both joy and an ache in her chest as she beheld all of their happy former times. Although she was perfectly content with her current life and she loved the way her children had grown up into adults, sometimes she missed when they were little. And she certainly missed Frank, with his flashing smile and twinkling eyes. He had exuded charisma and confidence, and he had made her believe that he was capable of anything.
I guess he would have fixed his mistakes if he had stayed with us,she thought, feeling tears spring to her eyes.Maybe that's part of why he never told me. He was always so sure he could do anything he set his mind to. He was probably alwaystotally certain that he would fix the problem of the debt he'd gotten himself into.
“Mom?”
Vivian looked up, wiping a stray tear off her cheek. She wasn't positive which one of her daughters had called her name, but her guess was that it was Julia.
“I'm up here!” she called. “In the attic.”
Sure enough, a moment later she heard footsteps on the stairs and Julia appeared. Julia looked flushed and healthy for the most part, but there were circles under her eyes and her hair was a little messy, which was uncharacteristic for her. Vivian knew that parenting a newborn was never easy, and that throwing a toddler into the mix was sure to create chaos. She made a mental note to make Julia and Cooper another casserole.
“What are you up to?” Julia asked with a smile, looking down at the photo album in Vivian's lap. A moment later her smile vanished as she noticed Vivian’s tears. “Are you all right, Mom?”
Vivian laughed breathlessly, gently shutting the photo album. “Oh, I'm fine. I'm only sniffing because of all the dust up here.” She gestured to the cleaning supplies that she’d brought up to the attic with her. “It needs a thorough dusting.”
“Mom.” Julia knelt down next to her mother and put a hand on her shoulder. “I have a newborn daughter and I have definitely been experiencing more than my fair share of roller coaster emotions. That makes it easy for me to recognize the emotional turmoil of another. Are you crying about Dad?”
Vivian nodded, letting some of the tears fall out of her eyes. “It's—it's just hard to miss him so much and not be able to talk to him about this whole thing,” she said.
Julia nodded, shifting from a kneeling position to a sitting one. For a moment she was quiet, looking out across the attic as if she was remembering all of the antics that she'd shared with her siblings there when they were children. “What do you thinkhe would say if you could talk to him about it?” she asked finally, turning to her mother with a sympathetic expression.
Vivian shook her head. “I have no idea, that's just the thing. I don't know why he did what he did or how he justified it to himself. It's a mystery to me, and when he was alive, I'd thought there was no mysteries at all between us.”
