I scrubbed my hand down my face. Ugh, what a mess. The cursor continued to blink at me, and I was just about to type something—anything—just to get it to stop, but just then movement at my next-door neighbor’s place drew my attention.
Stowe was on his porch, a bag of groceries at his feet as he unlocked the front door. He glanced up—perhaps sensing my gaze—and I waved. He smiled broadly and waved in return. I’d yet to take Stowe up on his offer to grab a cup of coffee, but I was seriously considering it. He only wanted to be friends—he’d said as much—and I could see no harm in that.
Seeing Stowe, or more specifically—his groceries, reminded me that I also was running low on food. A run to the local market was on my short list. I’d kind of grown accustomed to the grocery ordering system over on Fade Island, but nobody would be taking orders and delivering groceries here in Harbour Falls. I was back to doing my own shopping.
I wrote a paragraph on the computer but it was garbage, so I deleted it. Back to a blank page and blinking cursor, I groaned in frustration. Nothing was going to jumpstart my creativity; I just couldn’t get in the zone. It was approaching late afternoon, and I’d gotten absolutely nothing accomplished all day long. Great, might as well go to the store, I thought, pick up some food.
I went downstairs, tugged on my boots, grabbed my coat from the back of the sofa (where I’d thrown it earlier), and then left for the store.
A half an hour later I was standing in the wine aisle, staring at bottles of merlot and replaying the awful night down in the wine cellar over and over in my head. God, I missed Adam. Tears formed in my eyes, blurring the dark bottles before me. I fumbled in the pocket of my coat for a tissue. And just as I was wiping my eyes, someone called out my name.
I spun around and then promptly took a wary step back. “J.T.,” I gasped. Not who I expected.
The guy I’d once counted as one of my very good friends—until we got into an altercation at the café and I found out otherwise—stepped back. He held out his hand in a placating manner. “Whoa, Maddy, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He eyed me curiously, but thankfully didn’t ask about the tissue…or the tears.
A final swipe to the eyes and then I said, “It’s okay.” I stuffed the crumpled tissue back into my pocket.
J.T. cleared his throat. “Uh, I don’t know if you heard, but I finished up with rehab a couple of weeks ago.”
“I didn’t know,” I admitted. “But that’s great, J.T. How are things going?”
“Good, good,” he said. “I’m just taking it a day at a time, following the outpatient program.”
“That’s all you can do.” I shifted from one foot to the other, nervous and not sure what to say.
I could see J.T. was really trying, but after what had happened in the fall, it felt weird to stand in a store and have a normal conversation with him, like nothing had ever occurred. “Well, best of luck to you,” I said at last while turning to leave.
But as I placed my hands on the handle of the shopping cart, J.T. said, “Um, I’ve actually been hoping to run into you. There’s something I’d like to say…”
Curious, I turned back to face him. “Really? What’s that?”
J.T. cleared his throat again. “Well, I want to apologize for…let’s see… I don’t know, I guess for everything…being drunk and high, doing the things I did to you, saying those things that day on the dock. It was wrong and there’s no excuse. I take full responsibility for my actions, and I am sorry. I just hope maybe, someday, you can forgive me.”
He sounded sincere. In fact, he sounded like the guy I’d once known and cared for. A lot had happened, though. It wasn’t just the café incident, where he’d thrown a bottle at my head and trapped me against the counter until Adam had come to the rescue. There was more. J.T. had once threatened me down at the dock over on the island. In fact, he had acted so shady in the fall that I’d begun to believe he had murdered Chelsea. But that turned out not to be the case, as everyone now knew.
I paused and took a really good look at this guy who’d once been my friend. He looked different but in a good way. His reddish hair appeared darker, but that wasn’t it. It was his brown eyes that struck me. They were no longer troubled. I guessed the eight-week intensive rehab program he’d entered back in November had really helped him. I wanted to believe J.T. was back to the guy I’d once known, I truly did, but I was naturally wary.
I hadn’t said anything, and J.T. looked defeated. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “I don’t expect—”
“No, no. It’s not that I don’t accept your apology. I do. But…” I trailed off.
He looked down. “I’m not asking you to forget, Maddy. I know I did terrible things, I accept that.” At last his eyes rose to meet mine, and I saw nothing but contrition in their depths.
“I don’t think I can forget,” I said truthfully. “But I do forgive you, J.T. Although I have to be honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fully trust you.”
I wanted to be honest. I foresaw J.T. and I reaching an understanding, but I doubted we’d ever be friends like before. Too much had passed between us.
“That’s good enough for me,” he replied with a smile.
With that behind us, we spoke a moment longer.
