Cooper: They don’t understand me.
Nora: Bet they feel the same way. You never know until you talk to them. Call me once you do that.
Cooper: Are you coming to the anniversary party?
Nora: To drop off the cake.
Cooper: Can I talk to you then?
Nora: Probably not a good idea. Have a good night, Cooper.
TO: Ford Chance, Cooper Chance, Palmer Chance
FROM: Peggy Chance
SUBJECT: Your rooms
My dearest seedlings,
This is a reminder that you still need to clean out your rooms. Ford, you started to clean it out but then left everything on the floor. Palmer, I can’t even walk through your room—there are clothes everywhere. And Cooper, your boxes are still stacked in the corner of your room. Didn’t you say you were going to sell your bed as well?
We really need you kids to follow through on this. Your dad and I can’t do it ourselves. Thank you.
Also, we are so excited about the anniversary party. We love you all for taking the time to plan this party out for us. We could not be more grateful for our three children.
I picked out a dusty rose dress that looks rather fetching on me, and I bought your dad a new pair of pants, no holes in the crotch. We might be old, but we know how to class it up when the opportunity presents itself.
Love you all,
Mom
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
FORD
My feet pound against the pavement.
The dew from the night before glistens on every blade of grass.
And the sounds of Marina Island waking up fill the peaceful silence surrounding me.
But I feel anything but peaceful.
I feel a war raging inside me. A war I can’t seem to get a handle on.
After leaving countless messages on Larkin’s voice mail, I gave up calling her and went to bed, only to lie there, staring up at the ceiling, sleep eluding me.
And this morning, I woke up feeling empty.
Last night was not how I planned on things going. I planned on staying in Seattle for the night—I even booked us a hotel room so we wouldn’t have to rush to catch the last ferry to Marina Island. I planned on sharing a wonderful dinner with Larkin, maybe stopping somewhere to get ice cream, and then heading back to our hotel room, where I would show Larkin just how much she means to me, how much these last few days have meant to me.
But that was not the case. Instead, I went to bed alone, woke up alone, and now I’m jogging alone.
I turn the corner onto Marina Ave and head straight to the inn with a very simple to-do list: take a shower, get dressed, and find Larkin.
Legs worn out from a seven-mile jog, I make my way up the steps of the inn and take a deep breath. A few diners are in the breakfast area, eating the dry muffins. I move past them and head right up the stairs toward my room—and stop dead in the hallway, my breath catching in my throat. Larkin is sitting next to my door.
When she spots me, she stands and brushes off her backside.
“Larkin,” I say, approaching cautiously. “Have you been waiting long?”
“About ten minutes,” she answers quietly.
“Hell, I’m sorry. If I knew you were coming by, I wouldn’t have left.”
“It’s fine.” I move in even closer, reaching for her, but she takes a step back, sending a wave of fear up my spine.
“I just came here to grab some work. I left my computer in your room.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my key. I unlock my room door and let Larkin in first. I follow close behind her and shut the door, tossing my key on the table next to the door.
Larkin goes straight to the table where we’ve been working, grabs her computer and charging cord, and then turns toward me, clutching both items to her chest. “If there’s anything you’d like me to work on today specifically, just let me know. You can shoot me an email or text.”
I nod, and she starts to walk toward the door. “Is this how it’s going to be now?” I ask.
She pauses and glances up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Between you and me. That’s it? Last night was all it took to lose you?”
“You didn’t lose me, Ford. I’m just not sure you’re ready for me.”
“I am.”
She shakes her head. “You’re not. That was evident last night. You couldn’t set everything to the side to just spend the night with me.”
“You were getting in on the conversation too,” I say.
“I know. I take the blame for last night as well, but I tried more than a few times to get you back to the date. And it didn’t happen.”
“It was impossible,” I say, growing agitated. “You were there. You saw what it was like. A goddamn circus.”
“But you could have risen above it all.”
“I don’t have the power to do that. I don’t have it in me.” I push my hand through my hair in frustration. “I’m exhausted, Larkin. Not only do I have the business to worry about, but I have my parents too. Just from being here a few weeks, I’ve seen a difference in my dad. I’m killing myself trying to navigate my siblings’ needs—and then I have you to worry about.”
“You don’t need to add me to your burden, Ford.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Jesus.” I let out a low, frustrated breath. “You know what, maybe you’re right: maybe I do need to get it together before we even consider an ‘us.’” I straighten up and push past her. “I’ll email you a list of tasks that need to be taken care of today. I have some things that have been piling up. Just email if you have questions.”
I feel myself close up, shut down.
It’s my only defense mechanism at this point.
I turn to my computer, wake it up, and hunker down in my chair, the comforting black hole of work taking over.
“Ford, don’t get lost in your work; you’ve made so much progress.”
I glance up at Larkin. There’s a softness to her voice, encouragement, but I ignore it. I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of everything.
“I need to take a shower, and I have a lot of work to do, Larkin. Please excuse yourself.”
Her chin rises, and as she sets her shoulders back, I feel the intimacy between us snap. And in its place, a wall of professionalism separates us. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything from me.”
I don’t answer; instead, I turn to the hundreds of emails I’ve ignored over the last few days while I was trying to “find” myself. Yeah, lot of good that did.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
COOPER
Palmer: Where are you?
I glance at my phone as the ferry docks.
Cooper: About to get off the ferry. I’m not late.
Palmer: You’re not early. Ford isn’t here either. The store looks normal.
Cooper: What do you mean normal?
Palmer: Like nothing is pushed out of the way.
Cooper: I’ll be right there.
I set my phone down and drive off the ferry. I give the workers a quick wave and then take off toward Watchful Wanderers, which is only a minute away.
I’m in no fucking mood to be on Marina Island today, let alone dressed in a button-up and tie, but here I am, uncomfortable, pissed, and worried that I totally fucked up everything with Nora last night.