“Oh, I doubt that’ll happen,” I tell him. “I was planning to pretty much keep to myself while I’m here.”
One side of his mouth quirks up in a way that tells me he knows something I don’t. “Hate to break it to you, Joss, but Honeywell Hollow might not have been the best choice if you wanted to hide out from the world. If you give this place half a chance, I think you’ll really like it. Once you start meeting people, I bet you’ll never want to leave.”
It’s clear he loves Honeywell and its inhabitants, and I don’t want to offend him, so I simply smile and nod as I reach past him to open the front door. I have no intention of falling in love with this place, let alone sticking around. With my life and career being in Toronto, I couldn’t stay even if I wanted to.
“Good night, Liam. Thanks for hanging out with me. I’ll see you around.”
“Yes, you will.” The way he says it sounds like a promise.
CHAPTER FOUR
I’m still thinking about my evening with Liam when the doorbell rings the next morning. I slept in for the first time in years—the bed, much to my surprise and pleasure, is a cloudlike dream with soft sheets and a fluffy comforter—and I’ve spent the last hour lounging in the living room, drinking coffee and staring at the undecorated tree. I meant to ask Liam about it last night, but didn’t get around to it. This morning I noticed a basket of decorations on the floor beside the tree, which I nudged further under the branches until it was mostly hidden.
Rising from the comfy chair where I’ve been camping out, I peek through the front window, hoping to see Liam’s truck in the driveway. Instead, an unfamiliar red car is parked behind mine. When I open the door, I’m greeted by a smiling woman in her late fifties. She’s dressed in jeans and a stylish red coat that matches her lipstick, and she’s holding a stack of containers.
“Oh, blast, did I get you out of bed?” she asks, her brown eyes sweeping over me and taking in my pajama-clad form.
“No, you didn’t, don’t worry. I was just…” I trail off, giving a half shrug. “Being lazy.”
Her smile returns. It’s so warm and welcoming, it tugs at my heart and makes me instantly like her. “You’re on holiday, you deserve to be lazy. I’m Mae Murphy. I’d shake your hand, but…” She lifts the stack of containers.
“Oh! Let me help you with those.” I take the dishes from her and step back to let her in. She moves past me, bringing with her the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and a hint of orange. “It’s nice to meet you. Liam told me a bit about you and your family last night. And thank you so much for the cookies and casserole and other welcome goodies. That was so generous of you.”
Mae smiles brightly as she shucks her coat and boots. “You’re most welcome,” she says. “I talked to Liam late last night and quizzed him about you. When he said you’re not much of a cook, I thought I’d bring over a few things to make life easier for you.”
My cheeks warm at the mention of Liam and the knowledge these two were talking about me. I’m half tempted to ask what else he said about me, but decide against it. “That’s so sweet of you,” I say instead, leading the way through the house toward the kitchen. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Or some tea?”
Mae’s gaze lands on the coffee maker with its half-full pot. “I’ll get it while you put those away,” she says, heading for the cupboard where the mugs are. “The containers are all labeled. There’s a vegetarian chili, a piece of lasagna, and some chicken stir-fry. Everything can be heated in the microwave.”
I peer through the clear containers as I put them away. My body isn’t going to know what hit it. “This is great, thank you so much.”
“Not a problem. We’d love to have you over for dinner sometime once you’re settled. You’ll soon discover there aren’t many places to eat in town. Sweet Escapes has a daily breakfast special and a rotating variety of soups, sandwiches, and whatever takes the fancy of whoever’s cooking that week. The grocery store carries the basics, so if you want to do a big shopping or find anything out of the ordinary, you’ll have to head for Milford about twenty minutes away.”
I feel like I should be taking notes. I’m not sure what my face is doing, but Mae’s expression turns rueful as shakes her head. “Look at me, gabbing away. Sorry about that.”
“No, it’s fine. I appreciate the…crash course?”
She chuckles. “Honeywell is a small town. You’ll find your way easily enough, and if you need any help at all there’ll always be someone around who’s more than happy to assist. People come here and they say it’s like something out of a fairytale or a movie. They fall in love and never want to leave.”
“That’s what Liam said too.”
Mae studies me closely, her head tilted slightly to one side, eyes curious. “He’s a good boy, our Liam.”
I stifle a smile, thinking back to her using those same words yesterday evening when I talked to her on the phone. “He seems nice,” I say casually. Carefully. I’m not sure I want to talk about Liam with Mae. This may be real life as opposed to a movie set, but when my characters have conversations like this with the matriarch figures of small towns, it usually leads to matchmaking.
She takes a sip of her coffee, peering at me over the rim of the mug. “He’s had a rough go of it over the years. He’s content now, though. Busy with his business and doing things for people around town. He’s a fixer, that boy. A caregiver. Always looking out for people, wanting to lend a hand, making himself useful. He’s one of the good ones.”
From her tone, I feel like she’s trying to tell me more than she’s saying. She doesn’t know anything about me, and yet the way she’s looking at me makes me feel seen. Exposed. It’s almost unsettling.
I’m used to being looked at almost as a curiosity, but this is different. People often want to know details about Josslyn Hazelwood—my favorite designer, where I buy my handbags, the restaurants I frequent—but very few people seem to care about anything deeper. You can find all kinds of information about me on the internet, from my favorite color to how I take my coffee to the name of my childhood best friend. Those are all surface things, though. Very few people know me the way Mae obviously knows Liam. In fact, I’m not sureanyoneknows me that well, including my former husband.
“There don’t seem to be too many of those these days.” The words are out before I even have a chance to think about them.
She scrutinizes me for a few more seconds—god, does this woman have X-ray vision or something?—before smiling and saying, “Well, you’ll meet a few in Honeywell. I’m married to one of them. Liam’s business partner and best friend Nathan is one of them. I should be humble and not take too much credit for how those boys turned out, but I do.” She gives me a sassy little smirk that makes me laugh and loosens the ball of anxiety I hadn’t realized was forming in my stomach.
“Can you stay for a while?” I ask, surprising myself as much as I seem to surprise her. “We could sit in the living room where it’s more comfortable.”
Mae turns back to the coffee maker and tops up her cup. “I’d love to.”
