But now? Enough time had passed that I could see Logan Bend with fresh eyes. I liked what I saw. Not just the quaint, gentrified town of Logan Bend but one of its finest citizens, Cole Paisley.
I finished putting on my makeup and took a look at myself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of my door. How many times had I looked at myself in this mirror? If it were one of those tablets that cascaded photographs, I’d be able to see myself in every stage of my life. Now, a woman who had lived a lot of life stared back at me.
A few minutes before six, I heard the doorbell ring. I scurried down the stairs to answer. My stomach did the usual flutter at the sight of him standing on the porch holding two bouquets of pink tulips. “Hi, come on in.”
He stooped to give me a peck on the cheek before handing me one of the bouquets wrapped in brown paper. “This one is for you. The other is for your mom.”
I rose to my tiptoes to peck his mouth. “Thank you.” Then, whispering, I said, “My mom’s boyfriend’s here.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t have time to ask me any questions because Mom barreled out of the kitchen. She’d taken off her apron and changed into a nice pair of jeans and a cotton top.
“Cole Paisley, let me look at you.” Mom held out her hands. “What a handsome young man you are.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Webster. It’s nice to see you again.”
“You as well.”
From the kitchen came the sound of a champagne cork being popped. “Mom and Joseph have invited us to have a glass of champagne before we go,” I said. “They’ve been dating for six months.”
Mom made an impatient noise in her throat. “It’s the silliest thing. Celebrating a six-month anniversary.”
“I think it’s romantic,” I said.
“You would,” Mom said.
12
Cole
We had the champagne out on the back patio under the shade of an umbrella that had seen better days. The yard, too, was in a state of disarray. What had once been tidy planting containers were now filled with weeds. Flowerpots lay empty on the edge of the patio. Grass, which had once been precisely manicured and always green even in the summer, had yellowed and grew in patches. Mr. Webster had been the gardener of the family if I remembered correctly.
The house with its tan shag carpet and oak furniture was just as I remembered. Even the scent of bacon and maple syrup was the same. Mrs. Webster had aged well and was as hospitable as she’d always been.
We sat on either side of a metal table that had once been painted green but was now partially rusted. My chair was the kind that was supposed to rock gently, but this one seemed about to collapse like a lame horse.
“How did you two meet?” I asked.
“At the gym,” Joseph said.
“Joseph bought one of the condos where I’m moving,” Loretta said. “It’s a retirement community just outside of town.”
“Broadhurst?” I asked.
“Correct. You been out there?” Joseph asked.
“Just driven past, but it looks like they did a great job,” I said. “I’m a contractor, so I notice the details.”
“It’s such a treat to have you here,” Mrs. Webster said.
“I always loved coming here,” I said. “My mother used to worry that you’d get sick of Drew and me always tagging along when Luke came to visit Beth.”
Loretta smiled, but her eyes were sad. “Those were the best days. The house full of young people. I used to stand just outside the kitchen to hear all you kids talking while you were having a snack. I loved every minute of it.”
“I was sorry to hear about Mr. Webster,” I said. As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized my blunder. Talking about a woman’s dead husband in front of the new boyfriend? Good one, Cole.
“I’m sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” Loretta said.
“Thank you.”
“Look at us, Joseph,” Carlie said. “We’re going on and on about the past. You must be bored to tears.”
“Not at all,” Joseph said. “I’m pleased as punch to be here. Loretta has told me so much about Carlie, and now to meet her is what I call a red-letter day.”
“What brought you to Logan Bend?” I asked. “You’re not from here, are you?” His Southern accent gave that away.
“Heck no. I’m an Oklahoma boy. Born and raised. I retired a few years back and wanted to live in a place where I could fish and enjoy the great outdoors. This place has it all.”
“Do you fly-fish?” I asked.
“You bet your sweet bippy I do. You want to go sometime?” Joseph asked. “No pressure. I get a little excited sometimes. Loretta says I scare people.”
“His voice carries,” Mrs. Webster said.
“You haven’t scared me,” I said, amused. “Any afternoon you want to go is great with me.”
“I’d be happier than a pig in mud.” Joseph smacked his two giant hands together. “Hear that, Loretta? I’m making a new fishing buddy.” He turned to Carlie. “Your mother doesn’t take too kindly to fishing.”
Mrs. Webster smiled. “It would be nice for you to have someone else to partake in that particular sport. It’s as boring as watching paint dry. I prefer golf.”
“Your mother’s becoming quite the golfer. The other women are starting to talk behind her back. A sure sign they think she’s dangerous.”
“Who’s talking behind my back?” Mrs. Webster asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. Shelley Lancaster.”
“The very one,” Joseph said.
“She’s always so nice to my face,” Mrs. Webster said. “Thanking me for volunteering on her son’s campaign. However, on the golf course, she’s out for blood.”
“Is Shelley Lancaster Thom Richards’s mom?” I asked, as an image of a muscular blonde woman came to me.
“Correct,” Mrs. Webster said. “She and her brothers were
