“I travel,” he corrected softly. “I leave. And I come back. And if you let me…” His breath caught. “I’ll figure out how to keep coming back to you.”
She sighed. “I’d like that. I’m just sorry I can’t say yes to going with you right now.”
She stepped closer then, close enough that he could see the tiny freckle near her mouth, the one he’d kissed last night.
“For what it’s worth,” she said softly, “whether I end up on a plane with you or waving like a lunatic from this dock, I’m really, really proud of you, Joe.”
He felt a warm, heavy weight settle in his chest. For a moment, words failed him—he wanted to say everything, but all that came out was, “Thanks.”
She brushed a soft kiss over his mouth.
Then she stepped back, the practical part of her sliding into place again.
“Okay,” she said briskly. “Show me the rest of this sand. If I’m going to be abandoned for glamorous European beaches, the least you can do is give me a five-star Maple Falls one first.”
He took her hand as they started down the shoreline.
Neither of them mentioned how tightly she held on.
THIRTY-SEVEN
KRISTA
Wednesday
By late afternoon, Krista’s grandparents’ cabin smelled like lemon and lavender, thanks to the fresh blooms delivered by Zoe.
Krista stood at the kitchen table with her laptop open and three different brochures fanned out in front of her. Home health agencies, meal delivery services, and a flyer for a company that installed ramps and railings.
Alice napped in her recliner in the living room with a blanket over her lap andThe Great British Baking Showmurmuring low on the TV. From the window, she could see Walt and Joe down by the dock, consulting over what looked like building plans.
Krista could only shake her head, wondering what new project her grandpa had cooked up for Joe to work on.
Robyn, barefoot, hair in a loose braid over one shoulder, curled in the chair across from her, mug of tea cupped in both hands and a closed book on her lap.
“So,” Robyn said, nodding toward the brochures, “if you gotthree afternoons of in-home care a week, and the meal service for dinners, Gramps wouldn’t have to worry so much. And then when I’m here, I’ll be cooking and doing half their laundry anyway.”
Krista huffed out a breath. “You say that like it doesn’t make me feel like a terrible granddaughter.”
“It makes you human,” Robyn said gently. “You’re already doing the work of three people, Krista.”
Krista smiled weakly, tracing a fingertip over the printed bullet points. “Still, it’s expensive.”
“Yeah,” Robyn said. “But between the swap money, the campground bookings, and if you sell the Hideaway?—”
Krista’s chest tightened. “I have to, Robyn.” Even though she hadn’t even looked at that offer yet…
Robyn took a breath. “And if—if—you go to Europe at least for part of Joe’s assignment, you won’t be leaving them helpless. They’ll have a schedule and help. It won’t be you white-knuckling everything.”
Krista stared at her. “You really think I could pull it off? Europe and not leaving a mess behind me here?”
“I think,” Robyn said, “that if anyone can find a way to do it, it’s you. And I also think you’re allowed to want something that doesn’t put everyone else’s needs above yours.”
Heat prickled behind Krista’s eyes. She blinked hard and looked away, out toward the lake.
She could almost see it, the mornings in some sun-splashed café, Joe leaning over his camera to show her a shot; evenings walking rain-slick streets, coming back to whatever tiny rental they were sharing and falling into bed exhausted and happy. Then home again to Maple Falls, to the campground and whatever came next.
Joe might always be traveling lots, but now he’d have somewhere to come back to. Somewhere to call home. A life that wasn’t either/or. A life that was…both.
