“When do your things arrive?” her mother asked as she looped her arm through Brooke’s and led her up to the house.
“Monday,” Brooke said.
“Well, let me know if you need any help.”
Help. Another perk of being home. She’d gotten used to doing everything on her own, not depending on anyone, not trusting anyone either.
“Considering what I paid the moving company, I’m hoping they can handle most of it. And there’s not much to unpack. Mostly just a bed and sofa and some linens and clothes. And fabric, of course.” She’d been collecting it for years, never able to resist something that caught her eye, even if she didn’t have a purpose for it in that moment. But now, she did.
“You and your fabric.” Her mother laughed. “Even when you were little, you were always cutting up old clothes, sometimes before I had a chance to pass them down to Jenna!”
They all turned to Jenna, forever good-natured, who shrugged and smiled. “I never minded.”
Now their mother gave her youngest daughter a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. Besides, I got a lot of good stuff. Brooke always had expensive taste.”
Brooke laughed. “And I always took care of my things. Speaking of…” She looked at her parents hopefully. “You don’t by any chance still have my old bike in the garage?”
Her father looked pleased. “Of course we do! Might have a few cobwebs on it, but I’ll go out and dust it off myself. Should fit easily into the back of Gabby’s van.”
Brooke felt her shoulders relax. With Blue Harbor being so small, it was customary for locals to ride their bikes from spring through fall, until the first snow fell. Tourists rented bikes and often took them out on the ferry to Evening Island, where no cars were allowed. She hadn’t needed a car in New York, of course, and she wasn’t in the position to be investing in such a large purchase right now.
“Are the cousins coming?” she asked. She had seven in town in total, all girls. There were the four Conway girls, whose father was Uncle Dennis, her father’s brother, and then there were the three Clark girls, on her mother’s side.
“No, we thought it would be just us tonight,” her mother explained, as they entered the house.
“We wanted you all to ourselves,” Gabby chimed in.
Brooke was glad to hear it. It would help her ease in, even though she’d gotten the worst part of her return over and done with already. The reason she’d dreaded returning. The reason she’d stayed away.
The reason she’d left to begin with.
But all those uncomfortable feelings went away as soon as she stepped foot into the front hall of the old Colonial she had lived in for the better part of her life. Home. She was home. She would know it with her eyes closed, by the smell of the lemon-scented soap her mother used to wash the floors, and the hint of basil from the herbs that she grew on the kitchen windowsill.
She took it all in, even though it was exactly as she’d left it. The same pictures hung on the wall. The same coat rack stood in the corner. The same stairs with the landing and the big picture window where her mother hung a giant wreath each year during the holiday season.
“I’ve forgotten how beautiful this place is,” she breathed.
Her mother chuckled, but her smile was proud. “Please, it’s getting run down. The water heater went out this winter and we’ll need to replace the doors soon.”
“Not the one where you carved our heights?” Brooke asked in alarm, not sure how that suddenly came back to her. Each year, on their birthday, Steve Conway would get out the measuring stick and call them over.
Her father shook his head. “No one will ever touch those doorframes. I wouldn’t even let Gus touch up the trim.”
Brooke smiled. “Well, it smells delicious.”
“All your favorites, of course!” Her mother beamed. “You girls settle in and I’ll finish up. I thought we could eat on the porch tonight? It’s warm, and I have sweaters if the breeze picks up.”
Of course, she had sweaters, because that’s how she was. Nurturing, caring, always there when Brooke had needed her. She could have trusted her mother with any news, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to share everything, maybe because she didn’t want to disappoint her further. She could still never forget the look in her parents’ eyes when she’d told them she had left Kyle.
Her mother had tried to talk her out of it, encouraged her to give it time, but Brooke, for maybe the first time in her life, hadn’t wanted to listen to her mother’s advice, and her mother had known not to press the topic.
Relationships take work, was all she said. But she’d said something else too. Something that had been a blessing of sorts: Follow your heart.
Gabby waited until they had settled in the living room before giving her a coy smile. Brooke had been sure to keep her too busy chatting about all the other news in town on the ride over for her sister to have a chance to bring Kyle up sooner, but Brooke knew that it was coming. Still, she braced herself.
“So…how was it seeing Kyle?”
Jenna’s eyes burst open as she leaned forward. “You already saw Kyle? How’s that for bad luck?”
Brooke darted her eyes to the doorway, but from the clamoring going on in the kitchen, she knew it was safe to assume they couldn’t be overheard.
Just in case, she lowered her voice. “I bumped into him on the street when I came out to wait for Gabby.” She shrugged, trying to keep her tone
