That was the problem. After a decade of throwing herself into her career, investing in the perfect urban home, and waiting for the promise of marriage, Ginny had absolutely nothing going on in her life. She’d played by the rules, and hard, and yet here she was, empty-handed. Without thinking, she blurted out, “I’m coming home.”
“You’re what?”
With the exception of the odd Thanksgiving holiday, it had been years since she’d been back to Saybrook. Her mother would have clicked her heels and done a backflip if she could have, but now she sounded wary. “No, honey, don’t be ridiculous. Your father is on the mend, and the agency is just fine.”
But Ginny knew she was fibbing. “Oh yeah? Who’s running the show if you’re home taking care of Dad and Dad is home recovering from a bypass?”
“Sheila. She’s more than capable.”
Ginny scoffed. “Sheila can barely answer the phone.” It was true. The woman made a lovely grandmother to her sixteen local grandkids, but she couldn’t work the fax or figure out the scanner and, according to Ginny’s mother, hadn’t sold a house in three years.
“Let me come help for the summer,” Ginny said. “Just until you and Dad get back on your feet, and until I figure out what I want to do next.”
Her mother paused. Ginny knew it was killing her. Her mother had petitioned for Ginny to come home ever since she’d left town over a decade ago. She left guilt-inspiring voicemails each holiday and sent passive-aggressive gifts, like the maple syrup from the local farm: “Since you’ve probably long forgotten what yourchildhood was like.” But that was when everything was going well and everyone was in good health. Now, in a pinch, her mother did not like to accept help. “It’s really not necessary, dear. We can manage.”
But suddenly, Ginny wasn’t so sure she could. For the first time since she’d left Saybrook, she had a pressing urge to go back. “Mom, please. Let me help.” She did not say, “It would help me.”
“Oh, honey. If you’re sure.” There was what Ginny thought was a teary pause, and then she was back. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that Sarah Dickerson is back in town. Wasn’t she in your grade?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Sarah Dickerson was a jerk. Remember she stole my bike in second grade?”
“Oh. Well, she makes a decent cup of tea. She opened the cutest little café over in Bridgewater. And, of course, Wendell is still here. But I suppose you already knew that.”
“Mom.” Ginny did not know Wendell was still in Saybrook, though, if pressed, she couldn’t imagine him anywhere else. In fact, she’d spent the first five years of her decade away trying not to imagine a single thing about Wendell. And then it didn’t matter anymore, because Thomas had come into her life and by and large filled that void. In the beginning, at least. And not that there was any realvoid,per se. “It doesn’t matter who’s in town. That’s not why I’m coming back.”
“What?” her mother said, somewhat defensively. “I thought you should know.”
“Mom.”
“Sorry.”Then, after a sigh, “But in case you’re wondering…”
“Not wondering.”
The other end of the line went uncomfortably quiet. Ginny could picture her mother pressing her lips together. Trying to bite her tongue. “Wendell is single.” And failing.
“Got to go, Mom.”
Within a week of selling her Chicago apartment and saying goodbye to the last decade of her life, Ginny had packed the car feeling the smallest flicker of hope. She was going home to help her parents with their firm and figure out her own next steps. It wasn’t forever.
But as she turned east, Ginny’s second thoughts began to whir along with each passing mile. By the time she’d crossed into Connecticut, the second thoughts had begun to whistle. Now, as she sailed down the last hill into Saybrook, they clanged like an alarm.
The sole stoplight in town was red, and she rested her head wearily on the steering wheel as she waited. She’d go to her parents’ place first and say hello. Then she’d pick up the keys for her lake cottage and go check it out. Baby steps.
When she looked up, the light was still red. To her right, people were sitting outside Sacred Grounds drinking coffee at little tables. To her left, shoppers meandered along Main Street. Across the way was her parent’s brick-front realty business, with its black shutters and cranberry-red door. Ginny stared at the wooden sign over the door, Feldman Agency, and a sense of nostalgia washed over her. It was a picturesque night, and she felt her breathing even out. A faded blue pickup truck crossed in front of her into the coffee shop parking lot. She didn’t see many trucks like that in Chicago, she thought as she waited.
The truck door opened. It was a guy about her age. Rather fit and good-looking.Well, maybe there’s hope,Ginny mused.
As the light went green, he turned her way; it was Wendell Combs.
SixJulia
Julia slid her bedroom window up and perched on the window seat where she had a full view of the patio and gardens below. The party was almost over, and it had been nearly perfect. She was proud of her parents: after the controversies in town, the rumor had been that no one would come this year, and her family had proved them wrong.
Her father would be so pleased. She’d always known the Land Conservation Board was an important cause to him. But until this summer she hadn’t known there were rumors throughout the community that he was also the largest donor. God, her parents could be so tight-lipped.
“Discreet,” her mother had corrected her when she’d asked about it.
It annoyed Julia to no end. “I’m old enough to know things,” she complained. “If you’d just tell me.” Julia wasn’t sure exactly how much land her family had purchased and donated back to the town over the years, but she’d come to realize it must be a lot.
