“I’ll stay. Thank you. What time do you have to be at the hospital?”
“Five thirty.”
“I’ll drive you, if you’re willing to let me take your car.”
“Cab’s already been ordered.”
“You can cancel it.”
More silence.
“Fine.” His father closed the blinds over the sink, straightened the soap dispenser, deposited the cans in the recycling bin inside one of the cabinets . . . and walked toward the door without ever making eye contact. “Good night.”
Zach returned the sentiment as his father disappeared down the hall.
For several minutes he remained standing beside the island in the empty kitchen—until his stomach rumbled, reminding him it was long overdue for a feeding.
After the meals he’d grown accustomed to preparing in Oregon, a sodium-laden frozen entrée didn’t hold much appeal. But the calories would stoke his flagging energy—and it was a notch above eating a room service meal at an impersonal hotel.
He wandered over to the refrigerator. Pulled open the door to the freezer compartment and scanned the stacks of boxed microwave dinners. Selected one with a meatloaf entrée . . . all the while processing the past few minutes.
No, he and his dad hadn’t had a real discussion about their estrangement . . . but talking about feelings had never been Richard Garrett’s strong suit. Except for that night here in this kitchen, he’d always expressed his emotions more with actions than words.
Unless he was displeased.
Then the words came easily.
Tonight, though, he’d been judicious with his negative comments.
That was progress.
And assuming the surgery went well, it was possible a few more chinks would appear in the wall between them over the next few days. Enough to break the radio silence and create an opening for future conversations.
Wishful thinking?
Perhaps.
But as his tenure in Hope Harbor had taught him, sometimes—despite the odds—good could come from bad . . . and happy endings weren’t always just the stuff of fairy tales.
20
“Knock knock. Anyone home?”
At the summons from her deck, Katherine padded barefoot down the hall and into the great room.
Stephanie stood on the other side of the slider screen, dressed in the same outfit she’d worn at Hope House on Wednesday.
“Hi.” Katherine crossed to her and opened the latch. “Come on in.”
“I’m only staying a minute. With Zach gone, I was at loose ends, so I decided to join the Sunday evening rehab crew at Hope House and help paint. You want to come along? We could get tacos first, if Charley is cooking.”
Mmm. A far more appealing dinner than the quick omelet she’d planned.
But her first trip to Hope House had stretched her comfort level. Without Zach by her side today, she could be assigned to assist a loquacious volunteer who’d pepper her with questions . . . especially now that Stephanie and Frank had paired up.
“Um . . . I’m not in the mood to socialize with strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
“No—but won’t you be working with Frank?”
“Not today. He’s busy with a special event at the lighthouse. It would be just you and me, kid.”
An evening spent with Stephanie, including tacos.
Easy decision.
“Give me five minutes to change.”
“Don’t rush on my account. By the way—have you heard anything from Zach?”
“No. Have you?”
“Only a text letting me know he arrived. I thought he might have called you. In case you haven’t figured it out, he’s smitten.”
Warmth crept across her cheeks. “Let’s not get carried away.”
“I’m not the one who’s getting carried away.” She dropped onto the couch. “I may not have much personal experience with romance, but I know it when I see it.”
Katherine went into the best-defense-is-a-good-offense mode. “No personal experience? What about all that high-voltage electricity pinging around on Wednesday at Hope House while you and Frank were patching walls? I was afraid I’d be electrocuted whenever I walked by the door of the room where you two were working.”
“You, my dear, have a vivid imagination.” Stephanie picked a piece of lint off her jeans.
“Nope. I’m an actress. Emotions are—”
Whoops.
Katherine clapped a hand over her mouth.
How in the world had she let that slip out?
But mistakes happened if you got too comfortable around someone, lowered your guard.
Stephanie’s eyes sparked with interest. “You’re an actress?”
Too late to backtrack.
Katherine walked over and sat in the chair across from her. “Yes—but I’m here incognito while I sort through some . . . career issues. Please don’t tell anyone.”
“My lips are sealed. Does Zach know?”
“Yes. He and Charley are the only ones in town who do—besides you.”
“So where is home?”
“LA is my base—but in my business, you go where the parts are.”
Stephanie’s brow knitted. “A career as nomadic as mine was.”
“It can be—although my ongoing role in a weekly TV series keeps me close to LA for much of the year.”
“May I ask your real name?”
After Katherine shared it, Stephanie gave an apologetic shake of her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t stay up with Hollywood personalities or watch much TV.”
“Even if you did, I’m not a household name.” That could change, however, if she accepted the movie role dangling in front of her.
Stephanie gave her a cautionary look. “You know Zach is happily settled here, right?”
“Yes.” She didn’t blame the woman for wanting to protect her nephew. “That’s why we’re being careful to keep our relationship low-key. For both our sakes, I’m not comfortable moving forward until I make several important decisions.”
“Sound thinking.” Stephanie’s forehead smoothed out. “To be candid, I’m in the same boat with Frank. Long-distance relationships are difficult to sustain and often plagued with problems. One of us would have to make a radical lifestyle adjustment—and I can’t see Frank living in New York.”
“Are you willing to consider relocating?”
“If you’d asked me that a month ago, I’d have said no. Now . . . I don’t know. Meeting Frank has been an unexpected blessing—and this is an appealing town. There’s really nothing tying me to New York.”
“I wish I could say the same about LA.”
Stephanie gave a sympathetic nod. “I hear you. And I thought I was facing a tough choice. But I had a long, productive career, and I achieved all my goals. I imagine your star is rising, and who knows what the future could hold? Romance in your situation is far more complex than in mine—and affects both your personal life and your job.”
No kidding.
Katherine rubbed her forehead. “I know—and it wasn’t a complication I expected to have to deal with while I was up here plotting my course for the future.”