“Summer’s shows off. Fall lies about what’s coming. Winter’s a liar all the way through—insists it’ll last forever.” Arlo rubbed Brown Dog’s ears. “Spring just shows up. Says what it is. Don’t apologize for itself.”
“Arlo.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Did you know about the chair?”
He didn’t pretend not to understand. “I showed him all he needed to know to make it.”
“When did he start it?”
“’Bout a month ago. He was out there four, five nights a week. Took his time. Boy does good work.”
“Why did he stop?”
Arlo looked at her for a long time before saying, “You’d have to ask him that.”
“He isn’t answering his phone and hasn’t stopped by all week..”
“Mm.”
She hesitated, then blurted, “Do you think?—”
Arlo held up a hand, but gently, the way a man stops a skittish animal. “I don’t think as much as I just watch. I watched Fern for sixty-some-odd years. Never once saw her be mean. I’ve watched Dillon ever since he moved to town. Never once seen him let down the folks who depend on him. And I’ve watched you since the day you first showed up in Cobbler Cove. Watched you and Mick make a life together. Watched you lose him. Watched when you thought you were gonna die of the grief, and I watched your daughter save your life. I’ve got a lot of watchin’ under my belt.”
“And?”
“And I think Dillon Steele is a fine man who has decided, because of something a mean, fool-headed woman once told him, that he’s not allowed to be happy. And I think you’ve spent her whole life not knowing who you are, but I also think you’ve almost got it figured out.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re sittin’ still.”
Tessa blinked at him.
“Two months ago,” Arlo said, “if you’d had a big decision starin’ you in the face, you’d have taken action. You’d would’ve packed the car. Or hired a lawyer. Or flown to New York to confront your mother. You’d’ve done something. But instead, you’re sittin’ on a porch with an old man, lookin’ at a lake. Which is a fine way of making up your mind about something, by the way. But you’re a completely different person than the one who moved into this farm against her will two months ago..”
She didn’t trust herself to answer.
Arlo hauled himself up out of the wicker chair. His knees creaked, and he grunted a little as he got his limbs moving again..
“I’ll be on my porch,” he said. “In case you need to ask me anything else.”
“Arlo?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming over. For being here. And for being family.”
He waved a dismissive hand, the way he always did, and shuffled back to his house, Brown Dog trailing after him.
She sat on the porch until the sun had moved past noon. Then she went inside, put the kettle on, and called Judith.
Her mother answered on the second ring. “Tessa. I’m glad you called.”
