Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) (15 page)

Out in the garage, Peter grabbed a towel and wiped the worst of the grime from his hands. He tapped on the glass of the kitchen door and grinned at Gwen.

“I want you to pass judgment on our find,” he told her. “Rick and I brought these down for your approval.” He swept his arm over the chests of drawers and headboards.

She stepped down to the garage. A happy sigh escaped her as she passed between the old dressers. “It’s the furniture from my dad’s bedroom,” she told Peter with a note of awe in her voice. “And my old headboard from when I was a child. It’s all cleaned up and beautiful.” Her eyes sparkled with joy.

“Just like you,” he said.

She blushed.

“For someone who’s been dealing with drunks and druggies all day, you’re amazingly serene.”

Gwen’s head jerked as if she’d been slapped. Eyes focused on the tall cherry chest, she told him in a frosty tone, “I love my work, Peter. I help a lot of people get their recovery on track and get their lives back. It can be frustrating and tedious, but it’s worthwhile.” She shifted her gaze to his face, narrowed her eyes and defied him to counter her. “I make a difference.”

He shifted on his feet, settled back on his heels, and told her evenly, “It’s just that I worry about you having your office way out here. Have you thought about getting an office in one of the professional buildings, where there’s security and safety in numbers?”

Her answer was terse. “Not really, no.”

He forced a lighter tone. “It must be hard for some of your clients to navigate your road in winter.”

She shrugged. “I have it plowed.”

He kept quiet.

“But you’re right. A few cancel on stormy days, and some stop for the winter months.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Which is not the best thing for their recovery.” She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s something to think about.”

He nodded, hands in his pockets. He watched her steadily until the left side of her mouth twitched with a little smile. He said gently, “Did we just have our first fight?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what just happened here.” She sucked in a big breath and blew it out as a laugh.

He withdrew his hands from his pockets and examined himself, from T-shirt to sneakers. “I’d suggest we kiss and make up, but I’m all grimy and sweaty.”

“No bugs or leaves.” She pointed to his hair with a smile.

He grinned at that. “Speaking of the canoe, Rick said you took it out on the water and it’s seaworthy. Or lake worthy.”

“It handled great. No leaks. We should go for a paddle one day soon.”

“Let’s. I’m not working Friday night. Maybe we could head out early Saturday morning.”

“I can probably do that.”

He fondled a pineapple on the queen headboard. “But, listen I started to ask you if you’re okay with me taking these pieces.”

“Of course.”

He pressed, “It’s a lot, and it’s really beautiful.”

With a playful scowl, she demanded, “You’re correct, and you owe me”—she pointed to each item and counted—“five bucks, mister.”

He gave her a sexy grin as he dragged his wallet out of his back pocket. He opened the bill compartment, riffled through and extracted a five-dollar bill, then held it out with two fingers. He licked his lips as she slid the bill past the vee of her black knit top and tucked it in her bra.

Her voice was sultry and her eyelashes fluttered when she asked him, “The cherry’s for your bedroom, right?”

Peter’s mouth dropped open. “The . . .” He recovered with a laugh. “The cherry pieces, yes. And I’ll put the oak headboard and my old stuff into the second bedroom. Then I just need a mattress for the twin bed.”

“And finally Bree can come to Tompkins Falls and meet everyone?” Gwen asked brightly.

He plucked the sweaty T-shirt away from his chest. “Well, probably none of that will happen until I get cleaned up and eat something.”

She stepped back and offered, “If you want, there’s a shower down the hall on the left, across from my office. Help yourself to whatever. Grab a few cookies on the way.”

“Salvation,” he said and bounded up the steps.

Gwen called after him, “After your shower, we’ll have supper, whether the kids are back or not. I have a seven o’clock meeting tonight.”

“Thought you were done for the day.” Peter reappeared in the doorway, cookies in hand.

“Uh . . .”

Haley and Rick burst through the outside door. The oven timer buzzed.

Rick told them. “Supper’s ready. You’re staying, right, Peter?”

“And that’s what’s new with Baby Forrester Walker.” Gwen picked up her half-full mug and waited for a reaction from Deirdre.

“I’m glad for Haley and Rick. And you’re okay with having someone adopt the baby?”

“I am.” Gwen’s mouth curved in a smile. “Peaceful and grateful.”

“Yes, I can see,” Deirdre said, “and it looks good on you.”

Gwen started to say something but hesitated. She checked the clock by the front door of the Bagel Depot. Half past eight already.

“What time do they close?”

“Nine o’clock. What were you going to say?”

“Peter and I had our first fight today.”

Deirdre sat back and drummed her fingers on her empty mug. “Do tell.”

Gwen recounted the exchange in detail. “What do you think?” she asked her sponsor.

“I think you gave him priceless Stickley antiques for five bucks and agreed to move your entire practice closer to town, while he got away with calling your clients ‘drunks and druggies.’”

“Deirdre—”

“You asked. That’s what I heard.”

“Not helpful. That’s the most negative spin anyone could give to what happened. And you and I use the words ‘drunks and druggies’ all the time.”

“Okay.”

“And it’s not Stickley,” Gwen huffed.

Deirdre chin rose. “Does he know you’re at a meeting tonight?”

“He knows,” Gwen snapped.

“Does he know it’s an AA meeting?” Deirdre insisted.

“He—maybe not.”

“Why not?”

“We got interrupted.” Her eyes shifted as she recalled the scene.

“And there wasn’t another moment when you could have clarified?”

“It didn’t seem worth it to create an issue. We were all enjoying dinner, laughing, talking about things we all love—the canoe, the walks through the woods, Phil’s vegetable garden. And then it was six-thirty, and I blasted out to my car.”

“Peter didn’t walk you out?”

“He helped Rick clean up the kitchen for Haley who made the eggplant parmesan for us.”

“Sounds homey and fun.” Deirdre’s eyebrows were knit with frustration.

“It was. We enjoyed it.”

“Gwen, you need to put a stop to his jabs.”

“I’m pretty sure I did that,” Gwen asserted.

“But you’re bending over backwards to accommodate him instead—”

“I disagree.”

“—instead of telling him you’re a sober drunk so he can see for himself what that means and decide for himself if he wants a relationship with you.”

Gwen’s mouth was tight, and her temples throbbed.

“Bottom line,” Deirdre insisted, her voice loud, “the way you’re playing this game is dishonest.”

“I’m not playing a game,” Gwen snapped.

“The hell you’re not,” Deirdre yelled.

Heads turned toward them.

The young man at the register stood.

Gwen’s eyes flashed.

Deirdre calmed her own breathing. She held up a hand to appease the other customers and nodded to the young man. “Sorry,” she called. “Honey,” she pleaded with Gwen, “this is a ticking time bomb, and you can’t ignore it unless you’re prepared to lose this relationship.”

Gwen snatched her purse and stood. “Thank you.” She walked out of the restaurant and made it to her car before she cried.

Gwen took in a lungful of crisp morning air and let her paddle rest for a moment while Peter propelled them away from the cobblestone boat ramp. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the feel of the canoe gliding effortlessly in the still water.

Behind her, Peter laughed. “Hey there, partner. It works better when you put the paddle in the water.”

Gwen’s answering laugh rang out. “You don’t miss a thing, Officer.”

“No, ma’am, I’m a highly trained investigator.”

She tightened and released her shoulders before dipping her paddle in the sparkling, blue water. “Where shall we go first?” she called back.

He jumped on it. “I want to see the gumdrops up close. How about some figure eights around a few of them?”

“Gum—oh, you mean the little islands. Cool idea,” Gwen agreed.

“How many are there, anyway?”

She chuckled. “You know, anytime I tried counting, I got so caught up in their beauty, I lost track, so I gave that up years ago.”

“That’s how it should be, and maybe that’s why no one else knows the answer. Let’s head to the left and around the closest one. We’ll make a loop behind it and then decide what comes next.”

She nodded and settled her butt more comfortably against the seat.

“I like that view, you know.”

Gwen laughed. “Is that why you picked the stern?”

“That, and I’m a control freak.”

“You are not,” she chided.

They paddled quietly for a few minutes and came within thirty feet of the first island. “I’d forgotten, they’re even more beautiful when you’re close enough to see the textures of the different evergreens.”

“Do you know all the kinds?” Peter asked.

“Most of them. The hemlocks are the soft, lacy ones along the shoreline. They’re my favorite.”

“You have a lot of hemlock in your woods.”

“Yes, and behind the hemlocks on the shore are several kinds of fir and spruce and other pines.”

“From my place, the islands appear as one shade of shimmering dark green.”

“The shimmering is probably the hemlocks. The underside of their needles is silvery.”

“From here, it appears each island rises straight up from the lake bottom with no good places to land. Do people find ways to explore them?

“Not much. There’s one tiny island with a beach my parents knew about. We tried as kids to find others, but even when you find a low spot, it’s almost impossible to haul a canoe ashore. Unless you think to bring a rope to tie it, somebody’s going to get wet.”

“Like getting wet would ever stop you,” he disparaged.

She turned her head to explain. “But having to swim fifty yards to retrieve the canoe you didn’t properly secure is not so fun. This is the best way to enjoy the islands—looping around, threading through.”

They paddled without talking. Peter steered them expertly. Gwen felt her soul fill with joy.

Suddenly, Peter shifted on his seat, and the canoe pitched side-to-side. “What’s that huge bird on top of the tallest tree, a few islands over?” he asked.

When he pointed with his paddle, Gwen got a shower. She yelped.

“Sorry. Not intentional. Do you see him?”

She shaded her eyes. “Yes, it’s an eagle. See the white head?”

“No kidding? I’ve never seen one. He’s just sitting there, surveying his kingdom.”

“It’s a perfect day to do this.” Gwen grinned back at him.

His smile flashed white in the morning sun, and he mapped a serpentine path with his hand. “Let’s weave among the next three islands.” He switched his paddle to the left side of the canoe and dug in.

“You’re a good pilot,” Gwen praised. “I can’t believe it’s been fifteen years since you sat in a canoe.”

“It’s like riding a bike, I guess. You never forget. How long has it been for you?”

“Probably fifteen years since this canoe was in the water, but Jeb and I had a canoe. I don’t know what happened to it.” She shrugged. “We got it out on the water quite a bit when we were first married. His work made it harder each year.” She paused.
That wasn’t the reason, Gwen.
She puzzled for a moment.
No matter
. “So I’d take it out alone sometimes, especially in the evenings. It’s a good way to relax after a stressful day. I should do that again, now that we know the old Green Lizard is seaworthy.”

“Who’s idea was ‘Green Lizard’?”

“My brother Bill. I think he was twelve. We should have Haley paint over it and draw some flowers.”

“Good idea. But seriously, Gwen, you know I’d rather you didn’t go out on the water alone.”

“He said sternly from the stern,” Gwen quipped.

“I mean it, Gwen.”

“I know, and it’s smart to be careful, you’re right. You and I should paddle together sometimes.”

Peter apparently wasn’t ready to let the safety issue drop. “Do you know what I said to Sam about you that first night after Haley broke in?”

“What?”

“We left your road for the highway and he asked what I thought of you.”

“And you said . . .”

“Something like, ‘She’s made of steel or she’s out of her mind.’”

Gwen turned from the waist to see him.

“You’re our scout, remember.” He motioned for her to turn back.

She gave him the eye before complying. “What did you mean by that?”

“I was baffled why a beautiful woman would live alone in such an isolated place.”

“Until Haley broke in, there had been no trouble of any kind at the Forrester homestead.”