After they were done, Cait said, “Do you think you’ll move into this room?”
“No. It would feel weird,” Abby said.
“Even if you paint it and replace the furniture with your things from New York? Make it your own?” Cait asked.
“I don’t know. It was still my parents’ bedroom, you know? I’ll do all those things—paint, get rid of their furniture, and move my things in. But I don’t think I want to sleep there.”
“Maybe you can make it into an office,” Cait suggested. “Or a nursery one day?”
Abby had never imagined having a family of her own. Maybe that was because she’d never been with anyone like Aiden, who not only supported her professional dreams but also made a point of suggesting she set up a schedule that would allow time for her to enjoy being back on the island and living her life. Her thoughts drifted to a different type of future, one with Aiden and a family of their own. She knew she was getting way ahead of herself, but if Abby believed in one thing, it was the power of dreaming. Even if she didn’t expect something to happen, she could still wish for it.
“Maybe one day,” she said.
“Have you read Mom’s letter yet?” Cait asked.
“No. I feel like I’ll know when the time is right. I’m waiting for a sign, which is silly, but whatever.”
“It’s not silly. I haven’t read mine yet. Deirdra hasn’t either, but I have a feeling she might never read it.”
“That would be a shame. Mom obviously had things to say to us.”
Cait sighed. “I agree. I’m going to make a quick call. I’ll meet you downstairs to take on the junk room?”
“Sounds good. I’ll be right down.”
Abby stood on the hardwood floor looking at her mother’s bed, remembering too many painful nights when she and Deirdra had struggled to get their inebriated mother upstairs and had wrestled to get pajamas on the woman who should have been taking care of them. Nights of Deirdra sitting in the yard planning her escape while Abby cried herself to sleep. A lump lodged in Abby’s throat as happier memories trickled in—bounding into the bedroom and launching herself onto the bed when her parents were sleeping, greeted with tickles, laughter, and I love yous. On the heels of that memory came the one of crawling into her mother’s bed the night her father died. She hadn’t thought about that night in so long, she’d almost forgotten the way her mother had clung to her, crying so hard it had scared Abby. Deirdra had heard them sobbing and had climbed into bed with them. For the life of her, Abby couldn’t remember how soon after that her mother had started drinking. The days were too muddled with grief. Maybe she’d never even known when it had started.
“You okay, Abs?” Aiden asked as he came down the hall.
Abby blinked away tears and said, “Yeah. It’s weird to miss so much of who my mom once was and to hurt so badly for the parts of her that I don’t miss. I’m glad she’s in a better place. I hope she’s happier.”
He put his arm around her and ran his hand down her back. “I can only imagine.” Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “I’m okay. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t slowed down enough to really think about it.”
“Maybe you should take a few days off and let yourself think about all of those things. The good, the bad, the happy, the sad. Or even better, do it when I get back, so you have me to lean on.”
“Thank you for not brushing my feelings under the carpet, but I think I’m okay.” She leaned her chin on his chest and said, “Cait asked if I wanted to move into this room, and I guess that sparked a few memories.”
“Do you want to?”
“Move into the room? No, but when I ship my things from New York, I’ll clear all of the old furniture out and freshen the house up, really make it mine.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“Speaking of good ideas, it sounded like Remi loved her gift. Has anyone ever told you how incredibly kind and considerate you are?”
“Maybe this stunning brunette who’s knocked me off my feet a time or two.” He gave her a kiss and swatted her butt. “Better get a move on before I drag you into your bedroom and make you mine again.”
“You say that like it’s some sort of threat, when actually, it’s a pretty enticing idea,” she said as he picked up a box and they headed for the stairs.
His eyes darkened. “It wasn’t a threat, just fair warning.”
Cait walked past the stairway carrying a box and stopped, giving them both a chiding stare. “I know that look, you two.”
Abby tried to stifle her smile, feeling like the cat that ate the canary.
“I’m only taking this box to the garage. I’ll be back inside in one minute,” Cait warned. “Try to keep your clothes on until we’re done.”
She headed for the front door, and Aiden cocked a brow. “I think she’s getting the hang of this big-sister stuff.”
“Isn’t it great?”
“Yeah, almost as great as the way you light up around her. Is it ever like that with you and Deirdra?”
“Sometimes. But other times we just roll our eyes at each other. Did I tell you she’s coming to the tasting?”
“I think you might have mentioned it six or seven times since she texted two hours ago.” He leaned down and kissed her.
“You two almost make relationships look worth the effort,” Cait said as she walked past the stairs.
“You’re as stealthy as a ninja,” Aiden called down to her.
“What do you mean almost?” Abby asked.
Cait shrugged. “I like my solitude more than I like anything else in the entire world.”
Abby watched her disappear down the hall toward the junk room and said, “Is it just me, or is that kind of sad?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy. Before you jogged into my life, I treasured my solitude more than anything other than Remi.”
He carried the box out to the garage, and Abby joined Cait in the junk room. Once they cleared the room of old furniture, some of which was headed to the dump, the rest to Goodwill, they started going through boxes. Abby was shocked that her mother had kept things like their old school backpacks, homework assignments, and even Deirdra’s old skateboards. She found Deirdra’s roller skates, too—every pair, right down to the ones her father had given her in first grade.
“Deirdra was a skater. What were you?” Aiden asked.
She didn’t even have to think about her answer. “A dreamer.”
“Thank goodness some things never change.” Aiden opened another box and said, “How about you, Cait? What were you like when you were younger?”
Cait tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “I kept to myself. I wasn’t into any sports, but I loved to climb trees and take walks. I’d find a place in a field or a park and draw for hours.”
“I wish Deirdra and I had known you then,” Abby said.
“Me too,” Cait said.
They found boxes of her father’s clothes, his easels and other painting supplies, and several of his paintings. Abby told them more stories about her father, and she got a little choked up as they looked over his things.