She turned her hand over and traced the fawohodie symbol on her wrist. Freedom and independence. She had officially achieved both. Shewas her own boss and her salary provided the kind of upscale studio apartment she’d only dreamed about as a girl. So why wasn’t she happy?
She kept sweeping away the glasses until they were all in the kitchen. There was really nothing else for her to do here. Her part was finished. The caterer was in charge of cleanup.
She waited for Mercy to finish speaking with a server. “I’m gonna take off now unless there’s anything you need from me.”
“Nope, we’re all good here. Go home and get some rest. Thanks for the business.”
“Of course. Thanks, Mercy. Your crew did a terrific job.”
“I’ll see you next time.”
Lauren slipped from the party and handed the valet her ticket. Vehicles were parked in a long string down the curving road. As she waited for her car in the makeshift shelter, Mercy’s words repeated themselves in her head: “next time.”
Lauren gave her head a sharp shake. Why was she feeling so gloomy? She should be celebrating her first event. She was proud it had gone off so well. But... the triumph of success wasn’t quite living up to the hype.
What was wrong with her?
When the valet arrived with her car, she tipped him, then drove toward her apartment. And the longer she drove, the more she realized that she didn’t just feel gloomy. She felt homesick. She missed Pinehaven and the resort.
She missed Jonah.
It had been seven whole weeks since she’d last seen him. How long would it take to stop missing him? For these feelings to dull?
What if they never did?
The drive home took forever as traffic was awful on Friday nights. It was almost eleven by the time she let herself into her apartment. Graham acted as if he hadn’t seen her in a century. She took him outside and he did his business quickly as he didn’t enjoy the cold any more than she did.
Back in the apartment she changed into leggings, fixed herself a drink, and settled in her favorite recliner, Graham curling up at her feet. She grabbed her laptop and went straight to the resort’s Facebook page, hungry for news. Meg only posted every so often during the winter.
She had texted Lauren a few times with questions, and Tammy had checked on her twice. But nothing from Jonah. Not that she’d expected anything. Still, a part of her had hoped.
The page opened and a photo caught her eye. Jonah stood in plaid flannel, faded jeans, and work boots in front of the lodge’s fireplace, warming his hands. The fire cast a golden glow on his skin as he stared into the flames, wearing a pensive expression. His hair had grown out a bit and his beard was back, although it was nicely trimmed.
The sight of him stole her breath. Her stomach squeezed. She ached for him. She reached out and touched his face. But the screen was cold and flat and lifeless.
She read the caption below the photo.Even our resident handyman needs to warm up by the fire occasionally. Come stay in one of our picturesque cabins on beautiful Loon Lake and take advantage of our bargain winter rates. Ice fish, snowmobile, and ski to your heart’s content!
She skimmed the thirteen comments below, three of them written by guests she’d met this year. It had been fun meeting people from all around the country, making them feel at home, having a small part in making their vacations special.
She glanced at the photo of Jonah again and remembered she had a whole cache of photos on her phone she hadn’t let herself pore over. But now she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She opened the app and scrolled backward to her early days at the resort.
She’d taken beautiful shots of the sun rising or setting over the lake, inviting shots of cabins draped in snow, smoke curling from their chimneys. Then came the photos she recognized, only through the brochures, of Flume Gorge. The bridge, the tumbling creek, the falls, and then a mountain vista.
Then there was Jonah, standing on the end of the resort’s main pier, staring out at the water. Jonah chopping wood. And another, apparently taken moments later as he spotted her, a playful grin flashing on his face.
There was a sequence of at least ten goofy selfies Jonah had taken at a restaurant when she’d apparently left him alone with her phone.
The two of them snuggled up in the motorboat. A selfie with the sunset in the background. Jonah at the coffee shop, white mug to his quirked lips, his piercing blue eyes staring straight at the camera’s lens. They seemed so happy. So relaxed. So in love.
There were dozens more, some with Meg and the whole Landry clan. She soaked in each one. For the first time since her accident, she wanted her memory back. She wanted all the memories attached to these photos. To this man.
That was out of her control. But she still had the ability to make new ones. Her heart did a slow roll. She wanted to be back at the resort right now. She wanted to be with Jonah.
She wanted to behome.
Her breath left her lungs in a sudden rush. She wasn’t sure when Boston had stopped being her home, but it had. And the so-called dream job for which she’d fought so hard... It had only left her feeling empty. There were things here she cared about. People she cared about.
But Boston was no longer her home.
