The Inn At Rose Harbor Part 8

Actually, Abby had heard her perfectly fine the first time. Her join a commune? The suggestion was so outrageous it'd been an instinctive question. Why in the love of heaven would anyone a.s.sume she'd done anything so out of character? Well, she had no one else to blame; she'd left her whereabouts open to speculation.

They hadn't found her because Abby hadn't been interested in being found. Her brother knew better than to answer questions about her, and her cla.s.smates probably didn't know where her parents had moved to.

Her parents.

From what Abby understood, her mother and father had severed contact with a number of their friends from Cedar Cove. Whenever Abby asked about a certain longtime family friend, she got the same response: "Well, you know, honey, people change. It's hard to maintain long-distance relationships. We have a new set of friends in Arizona now."

New friends, because it was too difficult to face the old ones, Abby realized with a pang. Her parents had worked hard to shield her, but she knew that the car accident had cost them.

"It's just so good to see you," Patty said. "Everyone wondered where you'd gone. Why didn't you come to any of the reunions?"

Abby just stared at her. The answer should be obvious.

"It just wasn't the same without you." Patty sounded amazed and a little hurt. "Obviously it was hard after the accident, but you just disappeared! You were always so upbeat and fun and cute ... and to learn that you're not married. I a.s.sumed you'd be settled down by now with two or three kids."

Abby wasn't about to get into the reasons she was single.

Patty beamed with pleasure. "What brings you to town?"

"My brother's getting married. Do you know the Templeton family?"

Patty's forehead compressed with a frown as she reviewed the name. "Templeton ... Templeton? I can't say that I do. Was she in our graduating cla.s.s?"

"No ... she's a couple of years younger than us."

"That would have made her a soph.o.m.ore when we were seniors, right?"

"Right," Abby agreed. Victoria was five years younger than Roger and a career woman in her own right. They both lived and worked in Seattle now.

"It was good to see you, Patty," she said, ready to be on her way, back to the safety and security of the bed-and-breakfast.

"How about a cup of coffee?" Patty suggested. "Like I said, business is a bit slow right now and Pete wouldn't mind if I took a short break." Standing on her tiptoes, she looked toward the pharmacy in the back of the building.

Abby hesitated. "Ah ..."

"Please say you will. It would be so good to catch up."

Abby wasn't allowed to refuse. Patty wrapped her arm around her elbow and led her toward the back of the pharmacy. The area contained a small round oak table and two matching chairs. A coffeepot sat next to the sink. Before Abby could decline, Patty filled two mugs.

"It's fresh," she said as she placed the cup on the table. "I made it myself ... yesterday."

Abby had been ready to take a sip but she stopped, the cup halfway to her mouth.

"I'm just kidding."

Patty had always been something of a smart aleck, and she loved to party. Abby would never have guessed that Patty would end up as a pharmacist.

All at once Patty thrust her arms into the air. "I have an absolutely fabulously great idea."

Abby clung to the coffee mug with both hands. She was almost afraid to ask what scheme was circling around her former schoolmate's head.

"We should all do lunch; Marie is still in town and a couple of our other old friends live here, too. You can, can't you? You must. It will be such fun ..."

"I can't." Abby response was immediate.

"Why not?" Patty wasn't taking no for an answer, at least not easily.

It simply wouldn't work. "I'm only in town for a couple of days, Patty. I wish ..."

"When do you leave?" she asked.

"Early Sunday." She had to get to the airport and check in two hours before the flight, which meant she'd need to leave the B&B by 5:30 a.m.

"That leaves Sat.u.r.day." Patty wouldn't be easily deterred. "And ..."

"Sat.u.r.day is the day of the wedding," Abby finished for her.

"What time is the wedding?"

"Six."

Patty's smile lit up the room. "That's perfect."

"Perfect?"

"I'll get the word out that you're in town. Leave everything to me. I'll make all the arrangements. All you need to do is show up for lunch."

"Patty ..."

"I'm not taking no for an answer."

"But the wedding," Abby insisted.

"You'll have plenty of time to get ready. Are you in the wedding party?"

"No."

"That's even better. We'll all meet up at noon at the Pancake Palace. Everyone loves the Pancake Palace."

"Ah ..."

"Your mother will be in town, won't she?"

"Well ... yes."

"Perfect. Bring her along, too, and I'll bring my mom, if she's available. She's been volunteering like crazy ever since we lost my dad. Our mothers were in PTA together, remember?"

Abby didn't remember, but she didn't have a chance to say so because it was difficult to get a word in edgewise.

"We like to do this, you know?" Patty continued undaunted.

"Do what?"

"High school friends. We meet for lunch on occasion. All we need is an excuse and you're the best possible excuse. Oh Abby, everyone is going to be so happy to see you."

Abby wondered if that could possibly be true. Angela had been their friend, too, and Abby had taken her from them all. She couldn't believe they didn't harbor resentment or bitterness toward her. The one rea.s.surance she had was that Patty had included Abby's mother. No one would ask Abby uncomfortable questions about Angela or the accident if her mother was there to run interference. She was a bit old to cower behind her mother, but her mother had been her fierce protector following the accident and it was nice to know she'd be there.

"We invited our mothers to join us about six months ago ... which, come to think of it, was the last time we got together. We all had such a good time and our mothers have as much in common as we do."

Abby bit into her lower lip. Her mother would enjoy this. The accident had cost her, too. Abby didn't know if it was possible to put the tragedy behind her, but maybe ... just maybe it was.

Chapter 10.

The anger that had consumed Josh only a short while earlier now seemed pointless. He sat at a table by the window of the Pot Belly Deli, and watched the traffic flow down Harbor Street in a steady stream. Mich.e.l.le sat across the table from him; he was glad she was there.

"Do you want to talk about it some more?" she asked.

He glanced up and saw that Mich.e.l.le was waiting for him to respond. "There's nothing to be done at this point. It is what it is." He'd leave town and return after Richard died to settle the estate.

"You're angry and you have every right to be upset, but I think there's something to salvage here."

"This isn't life and death, Mich.e.l.le," he said, downplaying his outrage. "I'm over it; now if you don't mind I'd rather not talk about it."

"Okay," she said slowly, reluctantly. "I just think there's a chance for you and Richard to connect on some level. It's hard when someone dies and you haven't said good-bye and made your peace. Even with someone you've had a very difficult relationship with."

"I don't think that's going to happen," he said, loud enough that several people turned and looked in their direction. Immediately he regretted his outburst. She was right. But he just wasn't ready to talk about anything having to do with his stepfather. Too much was happening and too quickly for him to fully comprehend its meaning. The best thing for him to do now was simply leave.

"You want me to forgive Richard."

"In time, or at least let go of your anger and his power over you."

Josh didn't realize he'd spoken out loud, but he must have for her to respond. Forgive was a powerful word. He would like to think he was man enough to overlook what his stepfather had done, but Josh wasn't sure he'd reached that point. Perhaps one day he'd be able to release the resentment he'd stored up against Richard, but not today.

She stared at him for a long time, as though there was more she wanted to say. Mich.e.l.le appeared to be weighing her options, considering if this was the right place and time.

"What is it?" he asked.

She arched her brows in question.

"You want to tell me something, but can't decide if you should or not. Just say it."

"I don't know that now is the best time." She set the menu aside and leaned ever so slightly toward him, pressing her stomach against the edge of the table.

"Sure it is."

"I'm concerned about you," she said finally.

"Really? And why is that?" Her comment amused him.

Once more she hesitated. "I believe I know what you're thinking. You want to leave Cedar Cove and come back after Richard has died."

That was exactly what he was thinking. Josh could see that it wouldn't do much good for him to hang around town. The two men would never see eye to eye, and as Mich.e.l.le had witnessed, they didn't respect each other. Josh had just finished managing the construction of a strip mall and had encountered one complication after another. He was both physically and emotionally ready for a break, and he wasn't keen on spending his free time b.u.t.ting heads with his stepfather. Richard would prefer to have him out of his life, and Josh was more than willing to accommodate the dying man.

"I'm right, aren't I?" she prodded.

He responded with a sharp nod of his head. "I've given it some consideration."

"Don't," she advised.

"Can you give me one good reason why I should stay?"

"I can give you more than one."

He snickered and pretended to read the menu. "Did you happen to read the specials on the board when we came in?" he asked in an abrupt change of subject.

"No. Do you want to hear my thoughts or would you rather bury your head in the sand?"

His appet.i.te gone, he set aside the menu. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do."

Josh would prefer to put his stepfather out of his mind, but he could see that was impossible, especially since Mich.e.l.le was so keen to see this through.

He folded his arms and leaned back, prepared to listen. She didn't disappoint him.

"As much as neither one of you wants to admit it, you need each other," she said point-blank.

Josh nearly laughed out loud. He didn't need Richard and his stepfather sure as h.e.l.l didn't need him. "You've got to be kidding me."

"You're all Richard has left in this world ..."

"Like he cares," Josh reb.u.t.ted. It didn't matter that Josh was Richard's last remaining relative.

"And Richard is your last relative, too, and whether you want to admit it or not, the two of you are linked together. Richard is dying, and he's afraid and alone. He would never ask you to stay but he needs you. And you need him, too. Josh, he's the only father figure you've had in your life, and even if the relationship was a terribly disappointing one, you need to find closure. If you leave now, I'm afraid you'd always regret it."

Unsure, he mulled over her words.

"By the way," she added.

He looked up. "Yes?"