And on a certain fisherman—though there was no reason to share that excuse with her mom.
“I’ll let you go, then, so you can unwind. Call me later if you’re in the mood for a chat.”
“I think I’ll make it an early night. But we’ll touch base tomorrow.” At least once, if her parents’ typical communication pattern held.
But how could you fault people for caring too much?
And short of hurting their feelings, what choice did she have except to hope they’d eventually become more confident she was fine on her own—and worry less?
“Dad or I will call you after school if we don’t hear from you. What are you having for dinner tonight?”
“Um . . .” What was in the fridge? She pulled open the door and took a quick inventory. Eggs, turkey, lettuce, cheese. “An omelet and a salad.”
“That sounds healthy. We’re having pot roast.”
Her favorite—as her mom knew.
“I wish I was there to eat it with you.”
“So do we.”
There was no missing the wistful note in her mom’s voice, and guilt nipped at her conscience—as usual.
She leaned against the window frame and studied the solitary man next door, who appeared to be watching the silver-white harbor seal perched on the rocks offshore.
After all her parents had done for her, after all they’d sacrificed, had it been selfish to move away, create a life apart from them? Was it wrong to deprive them of daily contact with the daughter they loved more than life itself?
The same questions she’d grappled with as she’d struggled with her decision about whether to take the job in Hope Harbor.
Yet prayer and reflection had led her to this choice—for better or for worse.
She was thirty years old, for heaven’s sake. If she’d stayed in Eugene, her sheltered, comfortable existence would have continued in the same pattern until she was forty . . . and fifty . . . and sixty. Much as she loved her job, what was wrong with wanting a personal life too? A little excitement, a dash of romance, and—if it was in God’s plan for her—a family of her own someday.
One thing for sure.
She’d never have met someone like Steven Roark in Eugene.
Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen, but if nothing else, their encounter had added a touch of zing to her quiet days, spiced up her—
“Honey?”
Sheesh.
How long had she been zoned out this go-round?
“I’m here, Mom.”
“I didn’t mean to give you a guilt trip with that last comment. You know your dad and I want you to be happy. We just miss you—and worry about you.”
“I know you do. I miss you guys too. But moving here has been a confidence booster for me.”
“You’re not lonely?”
“With fourteen six-year-olds occupying me seven hours a day?”
“I know they keep you busy during working hours—but what about at night and on the weekends?”
“I’ve only been in town three months, Mom. I’m still getting the lay of the land and settling in. And speaking of being new in town, I may take your advice and bake a batch of cookies for my new neighbor.”
“Can’t hurt. We should never give up on people too soon. You may want to wait a day or two, though. If he moved from any distance and he’s older, he’ll be too tired for visitors tonight. So . . . any chance you can come up this weekend?”
Holly muffled a sigh. The almost six-hour round-trip drive was too tiring for a one-day visit after a busy week, but if she stayed overnight, there wouldn’t be much left of her weekend to work on improving her social life here.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet, Mom. Depending on what comes out of the meeting Thursday night for the Helping Hands project, I may be tied up.”
“If that’s the case, your dad and I could always drive down for an afternoon instead. He’s fond of Charley’s tacos, and we could catch up in person for an hour or two.”
That would be easier to manage than driving to Eugene and would leave a large part of her weekend intact—but it would eat up her parents’ whole day.
“I hate for you to make the long drive for such a short visit.”
“We don’t mind. Any chance to see you, no matter how brief, is worth it.”
Another jab of guilt pricked her conscience.
After all the years Mom and Dad had devoted to her to the exclusion of almost everything else, they deserved a hefty dose of carefree time with each other at this stage of their lives.
But letting go after three decades would take a while. Just as her transition to a new life in Hope Harbor remained a work in progress, their adjustment to an everyday life that didn’t include her physical presence would be a slow process.
She needed to work on her patience.
“I know, Mom. And I appreciate it more than I can say. Let’s talk about the weekend Thursday night, after my meeting. I’ll know more about my schedule then.”
“That’s fine, honey. We don’t have any other plans. A last-minute decision will work for us. You take care.”
As they said their good-byes and Holly ended the call, she wandered back to the window. The fine mist had intensified to a soft rain, but her new neighbor showed no signs of going inside.
Why would the man sit unprotected in a cold drizzle? He could end up with a bad case of the sniffles—or worse.
But she wasn’t his keeper. He was old enough to make his own decisions.
Yet half an hour later, after she threw in a load of laundry, reviewed tomorrow’s lesson plan, and passed the window again en route to the fridge, the man was still there.
As far as she could tell, he hadn’t moved a muscle.
Okay.
This was weird.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she watched him through the swirling gray shroud of fog that had begun to obscure the sea view.
Was it possible he was sick? Unable to get back inside? Hoping someone would come to his aid?
If so, she was the sole candidate. Given how the houses were situated, no one could see him except her.
Great.
Apparently she was going to have to venture outside her comfort zone and traipse over there whether she liked it or not.
At least she’d had recent practice approaching a man she’d never met.
But unless this exchange went better than the one with Steven Roark, she’d be sent packing in a matter of minutes.
Sixty seconds later, slicker buttoned and hood pulled up, she stepped out the back door and assessed the situation.
If she approached the man from behind, she could scare him. Why not circle around the front and come down the driveway on the ocean side of the house? That way, he’d see her as she came around the corner and wouldn’t be as startled.
Armed with that plan, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket, dipped her head against the steady rain, and followed a U-shaped route—driveway to street to driveway.
Despite the slicker, in the short span it took her to reach the front corner of his house, her jeans were damp.
The breeze picked up, and a shiver rippled through her.
Gracious.
Her new neighbor had to be freezing.
Bracing for probable rejection, she picked up her pace as she drew near the back of the house. Unlike the man on the patio, she wanted out of this miserable weather ASAP.