‘You bought a scarf, didn’t you.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘Uh.’ I glanced sideways at the beautifully soft, sage green wool scarf lying on the passenger seat. Beside it, a matching woolen hat with a pompom on the top. Bought at an adorable little boutique shop near the hotel in Hudson the day before. ‘Maybe.’
‘God, you’re so predictable.’
‘I am not.’
‘Just please,pleasetell me you’re not hoping it’s going to happen to you too.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Yeah you do. Life isn’t the only thing those rom-com heroines fall in love with, and you know it.’
‘Still no idea what you’re talking about, sorry.’
‘Are you moving to that tiny, rustic town because you’re hoping some hunky, ripped woodsman will sweep you off your feet?’
‘I’m insulted that you’d even ask me that.’
‘Insulted enough to not answer the question.’
‘Because it goes without saying. I’m not moving there hoping to find love. I’m not even sure that I’m completely over Nick, OK?’
‘Well you should be, because Nick is completely over you. He’s so over you, in fact, that he’s on top of someone else, remember? Or behind. Underneath. Probably all three and more.’
I winced at the mental pictures. ‘Shut up.’
‘I’m sorry, but if you’re going to uproot your entire life because of him, there’s no point pining after him. Otherwise it’s just the same shit in a different place.’
After we’d blown kisses and disconnected the call, I’d curled up on the hotel bed and mulled over her words. She was right. Here I was, making this life-changing move halfway across the country. Trying something new. If I was going to do it justice, I needed to at least try to let Nick, and how I thought my life would be with him, go.
The Main Street of Pine Harbor was even more picturesque than the photos on the internet had suggested it was, but maybe that was thanks to the time of the year. The businesses I drove past had closed for the day. I saw a toy shop, a candy store, a gift shop, and a bookstore namedPort in a Storm.Their windows and shopfronts were decorated with Christmas trees, wreaths, tinsel and lights. On a street corner, a snowman. It was just after four, and the day was drawing to a close. Black lantern streetlights were flickering on as I drove past them, almost as if in welcome. Fairy lights were wrapped around their poles and through the trees that lined the street.
Ahead of me, down a dip in the street, I could see towering trees, their branches leafless and stark against a glowing sky, and behind them, the harbor. The Atlantic waters were still and calm, more like a pond than an ocean. My headlights revealed a light dusting of snow was beginning to fall, so I flicked my wipers on and hoped my tires would continue to grip the road as they should.
The place was deserted, meaning I had my choice of parking spots, so I chose one near the end of the street, next to the town park and opposite a ferry terminal and harbormaster’s office, according to the sign, which was all closed up for the night. Apart from a man walking his dog the streets were completely empty. No doubt everyone was warm and snug in their homes,dodging the cold and fresh snowfall. The nerves in my stomach kicked it up a notch.What was I doing here?I’d left behind a perfectly nice apartment for the complete unknown. A cottage by the sea that I’d only seen in photos emailed to me by the real estate agent. I had the address scribbled down on a bit of paper in my pocket and a few, vague directions, but it may as well have been in Australia for all the help that was.
When you hit the bottom of Main Street, turn east and follow Ocean Road for about two miles.
I had no idea which way was east, let alone north, south or west, but I knew Google Maps would soon sort that out for me. First though, I decided to get out and stretch my legs. Acquaint myself with my new home. The sun had dipped below the horizon and the colors of the sky were fading. The first stars twinkled into life as I crossed the street and headed towards the town pier, pulling my coat collar snugly up against my chin. The wind was bitterly cold. I’d have to admit to Holly that the coats the women wore in the movies mightlookthe part, but in reality, they were woefully inadequate. I thought of the thick, down-filled parka packed away in one of my bags and cursed my romanticism.
The streetlights cast a cheery yellow glow on the snowy wooden boards of the pier. A few fishing boats bobbed up and down at a nearby dock, banging gently against the wood as their moorings stretched with the movement of the water, creaks and groans as various parts of them protested. I could smell the salt in the air, mingled with the earthy smell of woodsmoke, and something else, something that made me think of Christmas. It was the pine trees that grew in the hills, I realized. The trees that gave the town its name.
Pine Harbor. My new home.
4
JONAH
I parked my truck on the street opposite The Cozy Catch and got out, slamming the door hard behind me, immediately wincing.
‘Sorry, girl,’ I said, patting the roof of my faithful Chevrolet Silverado. The smooth metal had a light dusting of snow on it already. ‘It’s not you I’m mad at.’
You’re wasting your life, playing about at being a lobsterman.
My mother’s words rang in my ears as I shoved my keys and my hands in my pockets, my mood dark. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard those words, or a variation. Sometimes the words were different, but the meaning was always the same. I was a disappointment. What she didn’t understand was that she didn’t have to pile on the guilt, because Ialreadyfelt guilty. My father’s advancing age didn’t escape me, nor did the fact that he was slowing down. Always so formidable, he had started to lose his edge. Still big, but a different kind of big, like all the muscles from his shoulders and chest had slipped down to his stomach and turned into fat. He looked shorter, but not short. Frailer, and yet not frail. It was hard to explain. Even harder to watch.
My mother, on the other hand, had barely changed in the last twenty years, courtesy of the trips she made every six months or so to ‘refresh her wardrobe’, which everyone knew was code for visiting a plastic surgery clinic. Not for anything too major, she was very discreet and tasteful with the work she had done. While she lacked maternal instincts and a nurturing nature, she made up for it by ensuring my siblings and I had every opportunity available to us growing up, including the best educations on offer. My brother, easily the most intelligent of the three of us, had studied physics at MIT. Anna had followed Myles to Stanford where he’d earned a bachelor’s in accountancy and business administration, and she had earned a bachelor’s in economics.
