The problem is I know so little about him. It’s easy to idealize a man you don’t know, I remind myself. I reach for my phone on my nightstand. It’s time to do what I should have done hours ago. I Google Edward Frechette.
Now sleep is truly impossible. I’m sucked down a rabbit hole of Edward’s professional life. I knew he was keeping something from me, but this! I wanted to find his flaws—mission accomplished.
I flip my pillow over to the cool side and try to think of anything other than Edward Frechette. When I finally catch a few minutes of fitful sleep, I dream of a shirtless Edward driving a bulldozer into the hotel lobby.
In this state of... spirits, a letter was delivered. —Sense and Sensibility
9
Edward
I stand outside Elinor’s room, terrified. After tossing and turning most of the night, I’ve reached the conclusion that I need to come clean and tell her everything. “Hi, my company plans to overhaul the park, and I’m on the team leading the project. Oh, and have I mentioned I’m your new landlord?” I sigh. Yeah, that will not go well.
I tap lightly on the door. The house is so still the only sound is a bird singing. I wait outside her room for a couple minutes. Again. I tap on her door. This time a little louder.
“Elinor?” My voice echoes in the empty hall. She did say 6:30? Is she avoiding me? I pull out my phone to text her. My phone alerts me that the message failed. The red alert feels like a bad omen.
I pad down the stairs leisurely, taking in the family photos. It’s weird to think, as I run my hand down the polished wood railing, that I own this place. It’s a heady thought. I’m already half in love with Bumble Cottage. The only problem is that it wouldn’t be as magical without the Greenwoods—without Elinor.
Outside, everything is gray and green and silver. Clouds conceal most of the slate gray ocean. Water drips from the eaves.
“Morning!” Annie calls from the garden. The flowers’ bright colors pop against the foggy background.
“Morning!” I say as I hurry down the steps.
“Going for a run?” Annie asks as she trims the stalk of a tallblue flower.
“Yeah, just a short one.” I explain. “So, um... do you know where this trail is that your sister was bragging about?”
“It starts where our driveway intersects the road. You’ll see a sign that reads ‘Ralph’s Ridge.’ Take that. It connects to a main trail, so you could run twenty miles out and back if you wanted.”
“I’m not that ambitious. I’ll stick with four miles. Thanks!” I jog to the gate.
“Edward!”
I turn back. “Yes?”
“Elinor’s working at the cafe this morning. A server called in sick. She’ll be working until 10 or so.”
“Oh, good to know.” I suddenly feel so much better about the day. “Does she do that often?”
“Cover for people? All the time. She trims branches and smokes out hornets and runs the social media. She’s basically the most competent person I know.”
“I noticed.”
“Yeah, well, I figured you were wondering where she was.”
“I was wondering, thanks.”
She breaks into a brilliant, knowing smile. I’m beginning to understand why Elinor adores her little sister.
“Have a good run. We’re rooting for you!”
Annie’s words give me a little boost as I jog down the lane, then up the trail through the forest.
I recall something Elinor told me that golden summer. She was always spouting nature facts like a junior forest ranger. According to her, the dainty pine needles of redwoods absorb moisture from the fog. I feel like I’m doing the same right now. Something inside my soul is replenished, running up this misty trail of ferns and clover and little yellow violets. Breathing in and out, I savor the simple pleasure of being alive.
The path opens to a clearing with a view of the coastline, and my heart does a little somersault. Steep green hills break into cliffs as they meet a silvery ocean. Wisps and tendrils of fog weave in and out of the hillsides, adding to the mystique. This may be the most scenic running trail I’ve ever been on—and it belongs to my family. At least for now.
