“I’d like that too. That’s why I’m not in a hurry to go back.”
“But I want you to go. This”—he swept a hand over the sterile hospital room—“isn’t where I want us to spend our time together. They treat me like an invalid. Here’s what I propose. You go home. We’ll stay in touch by phone. After I’m fully recovered, I’ll come out to Oregon. Stephanie’s been singing the praises of your adopted town, and I’d like to see for myself why it’s bewitched both of you.”
His father was willing to travel across the country to visit him?
That was the answer to a prayer.
To countless prayers.
Once again, pressure built in his throat—but he tried to swallow past it. His dad’s attitude may have softened, but it wasn’t likely he’d ever be the demonstrative type—or be comfortable around displays of emotion.
“You’re welcome anytime.”
“Let’s plan on November, possibly for Thanksgiving. If Stephanie can swing it, maybe she can join us—along with anyone else you’d like to invite. I expect you’ve made close friends out there by now.”
“Yes, but they all have families. Except Frank, the retired guy who works for me.”
“You don’t have a girlfriend?”
An image of Katherine flitted through his mind—but that was wishful thinking. For all he knew, she’d be back in Hollywood or off making her movie come Thanksgiving.
“No.”
A young man toting a tray of food pushed through the door. “Mr. Garrett?”
“Yes.” His father motioned him over. “I’ll eat here.”
The man set the tray on the portable bed table and positioned it by his father’s chair.
As soon as he left, his dad lifted the cover from the plate.
Zach surveyed the scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash browns. “That’s a real breakfast—though not the most heart-healthy food.”
“The doc told me to eat whatever I want for the first few days.” His father put the napkin on his lap. “I don’t expect this will be gourmet quality, but it’s an improvement over yesterday’s menu. Why don’t you check on flights while I eat?”
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“I want you to get back to your normal life and take care of your business. I appreciate that you dropped everything to come all the way here on the spur of the moment, but I know it was a huge inconvenience.” His father positioned his knife to cut into a sausage.
“No, it wasn’t. Doing things for the people you love is never an inconvenience.”
His dad shifted his attention to him—and unless the light was playing tricks, there was a sheen in his eyes. “Thank you for that. I don’t deserve it after what’s gone on these past few years.”
“Why don’t we forget that and just start over?”
His father nodded and dived into his food.
Once Zach booked his return flight, the conversation moved to more general topics while his dad ate. Nothing significant—but the lack of tension between them was significant.
And by the time he left, with a quick hug and a promise to call after his flight landed, it was almost as if there had never been any enmity between them.
Which was nothing short of a miracle.
Perhaps it was too much to wish for, but when he boarded the plane three hours later, he couldn’t help but hope another life-changing blessing might await him back in Oregon with a certain chocolate-loving actress who was fast making inroads on his heart.
“Zach? Is that you?”
As Stephanie called out to him from down the hall, he dropped his duffle bag onto the floor, set his laptop on the kitchen counter, and took a deep breath. It was good to be home. “Yes.”
She appeared in the kitchen doorway a few seconds later, dressed in the same getup she’d worn to Hope House the day she and Frank had sequestered themselves in the master bedroom to patch holes. “You’re a more accomplished cook than I am—but I could whip up an omelet for you, if you like. You must be exhausted after traveling all day.”
“I’m fine.” And he had dinner packed in dry ice in his duffle. Enough for two—if he could interest his neighbor in an impromptu beach picnic.
“I hear the trip was successful.” She leaned back against the island and folded her arms.
“You talked to Dad?”
“Yes.”
“He told you we reconciled?”
“Yes.”
“Not without prodding, I’ll bet.”
“I’ve learned how to ask leading questions as well as my attorney brother has.” She smirked at him. “However . . . he was pretty closemouthed. I couldn’t get many specifics, but he did say he’s planning a trip out here. That told me everything I needed to know—from his end. You want to fill in the gaps?”
“We reconciled.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as he is.”
Zach grinned. “Dad claims he’s been thinking along those lines for a while. Given how fast he extended an olive branch, I have to believe that’s true.”
“It didn’t hurt that you traveled thousands of miles to see him because of the surgery. That sent a powerful message.”
“Whatever brought about our truce, I’m grateful.” He waved a hand over her attire. “What’s with the work clothes?”
“Frank and I are going to put in a couple of hours at Hope House, then stop for tacos afterward if Charley is cooking.”
“How goes it with you and my right-hand man?”
She shoved her fingers into the pockets of her jeans and gave him a slow smile. “It goes well. In fact, I have big news.”
“Lay it on me.” He opened the fridge and reached for two cans of soda.
“I’m moving to Hope Harbor.”
“Whoa.” He pivoted and shut the door without retrieving the sodas. “That is big news.”
She lifted a hand. “Don’t get too carried away. It’s temporary. I’m not giving up my apartment in New York . . . yet . . . but it’s a possibility down the road. And before you panic about inheriting a permanent houseguest—I’ve arranged to rent accommodations from a woman in town named Anna Williams. She has a small studio unit on her property called The Annex. Charley recommended it.”
“I know Anna. Pleasant woman. But you’re welcome to stay here.”
“Thank you, but I don’t want to wear out my welcome—and I think we may both prefer a bit of privacy.” She tipped her head in the direction of Katherine’s house. “Your neighbor and I volunteered at Hope House on Sunday. She’s a lovely young woman.”
“I agree—but she’s only visiting. Her job is waiting for her elsewhere.”
“I know. In LA. She told me she’s an actress.”
He arched his eyebrows. “That surprises me. She’s trying to stay under the radar.”
“So she said. I think it was a slip on her part—and she didn’t offer many details. I got the impression she was rethinking her future, though.”
“You have excellent insights.”
“If intuition counts for anything, I didn’t get the feeling she was locked into the Hollywood life.”