Luckily, the tile place wasn’t far. And now that she’d asked me her favor, Helena seemed much more up for casual conversation. “What’s the weirdest thing about being back for so long?” she asked.
And then, startling a laugh out of me, she asked, “Is it going tile shopping with your ex?”
“Yeah,” I answered without missing a beat. “It is definitely going tile shopping with my ex.” There was no reason to lie. Helena knew this was weird. It was interesting to wonder whether we’d even see each other if it wasn’t for my brother marrying her best friend. A thought that gave me a sudden pang, low in my stomach.
We probably wouldn’t have. But I liked seeing Helena. Spending time with her had always felt good. Apparently, ten years couldn’t take that way.
I thought about what else was weird. “I’m not sure I’d describe the other things as weird,” I decided. “But maybe nice? I haven’t spent a lot of time in Lunengrove since starting to play for the NHL, you know?” And she did know. “So being at home with mom and dad is... interesting. Nice, but like, probably not something I want to do all the time.”
My parents were great, they were. But at 30, I felt too old to be living at home. Maybe even for the summer. I had thought about renting somewhere on my own; it wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it.
“But your parents are so great!” Helena objected, sounding genuinely surprised that I didn’t want to live with them all the time. Helena had always gotten on well with my parents, especially my mom.
It made me wonder how much they saw each other now. It was a small town, it wasn’t like Helena could have avoided my parents completely for ten years.
As if reading my mind, Helena carried on, “Your mom always stops to chat when I bump into her around town. I swear, she’s passed almost as many family recipes down to me as she has to Pat and Charlotte.”
A soft laugh bubbled up in response to Helena’s words. Maybe it should have bothered me that my mom was still in touch with my ex so much she passed family recipes to her, but... I found it hard to worry about that. My mom had always loved Helena. And rightfully so.
“Better you than me,” I teased. “Mom tried to give me some recipes but I wasn’t very good at following them. Perhaps now I’d be better.” I had successfully followed quite a few recipes from books before.
Reaching the tile shop, I parked the car, before giving Helena another smile. It was genuine as I told her, “I’m glad. That you and my mom are still friendly. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be.”
And maybe that was why it didn’t bother me. They were both nice people. Helena and I having a broken engagement behind us shouldn’t affect Helena’s relationship with other people.
She smiled back, so warm and genuine that it made my stomach swoop. “I’m glad, too,” she admitted. “It was kind of weird at first but -” She shrugged. It didn’t require an explanation. Our engagement had ended ten years ago, that was plenty of time to get over any weirdness.
So why was Helena still making my heart do crazy things? I had to push that question aside. We had tiles to buy. Though frankly, I was mostly here to provide a credit card. I doubted Helena would need much input from me.
“Come on then, let’s go buy all the tiles,” I joked, getting out of the car. Hopefully, it would be fewer than all of the tiles. I had a list of measurements and amounts we needed. So perhaps it was that I was to provide a credit card and some very technical information.
As we walked to the store, I tried very hard not to think about how it felt like we were shopping for a house together. Well. We were. Just someone else’s house and someone else’s happiness.
At least it was easy to be happy for Pat and Charlotte.
Chapter Eight
Helena
Picking out kitchen tiles with my ex-fiancé was definitely the weirdest thing I’d done all week. Even weirder than asking him for favors. As we walked around, taking in dozens of different kitchen counters and tile finishes, it was hard not to imagine what it would have been like to shop for a house of our own.
When I’d picked out my current house, I’d had to do it alone. The only person I’d needed to please was myself. It should have been easy. Instead, I’d found it hard to know how I felt about the different places I visited without someone else to bounce ideas off.
I was happy enough with where I lived, but it didn’t feel like a forever home. Maybe if I’d had someone else to help me pick it, it wouldn’t feel so temporary.
But none of that was worth worrying about now. Pat and Charlotte were going to live with these tiles for a long time. I needed to pick well!
“Okay. Do you know what color walls we’re working with?” I asked Sam. “Did you bring a swatch?”
Sam’s eyes widened at my question. I could almost hear the panic setting it as he questioned whether he even knew what a swatch was. But then, Sam clearly remembered that he did know what it was, why we were here.
“Like a color sample?” he asked and seemed genuinely delighted he’d figured it out when I nodded. “No,” came the answer. I almost sighed. It would be easier with a swatch. “But!” he added, raising his phone. “I took pictures of everything. So yeah, don’t make that face. I came somewhat prepared,” he teased.
Pulling up the pictures, Sam handed me
