Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) (4 page)

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Authors: Katie O'Boyle

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Lakeside Porches, #Series, #Love Stories, #Spa, #Finger Lakes, #Finding The Way, #Psychotherapist, #Widow, #Life Partner, #Family Life, #Officer, #Law Enforcement, #Tompkins Falls, #Ex-Wife, #Betrayal, #Alcoholic Father, #Niece, #Pregnant, #Security System. Join Forces, #Squall, #Painful Truths

BOOK: Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3)
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Haley’s crying eased.

“Haley,” Rick implored, his voice soft, “let’s do this together. I love you, and it’s important that we work this out, figure out the right thing for the baby and for us. Please don’t make any decisions until we’re together.”

Haley snuffled her nose.

“Okay?”

“Yes.” Her voice was full of doubt.

“But?” he teased.

“Rick, are you sure you can take the time to come?”

“I have about two weeks before classes start. I’m meeting with my advisor in a few minutes to plan for fall. After work tomorrow morning I’m all yours for two weeks. And I’ll be at your side or on call after that, for as long as you need me.”

He heard a
whoosh
of relief.

“Listen, will Gwen be okay if I show up there, like, tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

Probably Gwen wouldn’t rip him apart. She had been pretty calm at Haley’s house over Christmas, and she’d made a science project out of managing Haley’s weird mother.
Gwen will ask all the right questions
. They needed that. He and Haley had no idea how to deal with this, except what their hearts told them. It bothered him that Haley’s heart had told her to keep her distance and keep him in the dark.

“I have a Google map for Gwen Forrester, a psychologist on the East Lake Road outside of Tompkins Falls. Is that her practice or her house?”

“Both. But it’s down a killer private road. If you can get here in daylight, it’s a lot easier.”

“I can be on the road tomorrow around noon. I’ll swing by your mom’s.” He cringed at the thought. “What can I bring with me that you don’t have?”

“I know it’s hazardous duty, but I’d love to have my paints and stuff from my mother’s house. She threw me out in June. She may have thrown out my stuff, too. I don’t know.”

“I’ll see what I can do. And I’ll bring along the things you had at my place. Your camera’s here.”

“I thought I’d lost it.” Haley’s voice brightened.

“I’ll try to get there around five or six tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be starved,” he hinted.

That made her laugh. “We’ll feed you. I love you, Rick.”

“I’m counting on it. I love you, too, Haley. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

The connection went dead.

Professor Singh stood with his hand on the doorknob.

“So your foolproof, logical plan for life has gone phooey?”

Gwen closed the cupboard door on the last of the breakfast dishes. There was still no sign of Haley, but Haley would talk when she was ready.

She tossed the damp dishtowel on the back of the nearest stool, ran her fingers through her hair, pinched some color into her cheeks, and put on a saucy smile.

When she stepped down to the garage, Peter stood beyond the outside door. A scowl marred his face and his left hand wiggled a screwdriver as he contemplated his handiwork.

He’d shed the hoodie. Muscles filled the white T-shirt, and the cotton clung to his sweaty chest and abdomen. Worn jeans hugged his lean hips and defined the bulges at his crotch.

Even better than the uniform
.

He teased her, when he saw the direction of her gaze. “What do you think?”

“Uh.” Temporarily speechless, she crossed the garage and stepped out into the sunlight. Even a foot away, she sensed his heat, smelled soap and fresh sweat and wood shavings. “How’s it going?”

He stretched to his full height. His lean hips settled forward, and his chest and arm muscles rippled. “Take a look.” His gaze shifted to the repair job, and probed a hollow above the new deadbolt with his screwdriver. “There’s more damage than I can properly fix. I wish Haley had known what she was doing when she broke in.”

Gwen stepped closer and saw what he meant.

He moved his screwdriver a few inches down, where splintered wood lay exposed around the main lock. “She smashed the old mechanism with a rock, and there’s damage to the wood that needs repair. I can use wood filler for now to make it secure, but you should replace the door. And I recommend a door with no window next time.”

“I’ll call Tony later and have him put it on his list.”

“Tony?” His shoulder stiffened and he gave her a sideways glance.

A little jealous
? “Your partner Sam’s brother Tony does carpentry on the side. He’s a security officer at the college.”

Judging by the tightness around his mouth, she hadn’t completely satisfied his curiosity.

She smiled and touched his forearm. “I’ve known the Pinellis since we were kids.”

He shifted his hips, as if his jeans had just gotten snug.

“Tony and Sam’s sister Maria is a little younger than me, and we were cheerleaders together in high school.”

“Cheerleaders?” A slow grin spread over Peter’s face as he perused her body.

She skipped away, shook imaginary pompoms in the air, turned with a beaming smile, and swished her hips. “Go, Tigers, go!”

“So Tompkins Falls teams are the Tigers? I’ll bet you were at the top of the pyramid.”

“Nope. Center, bottom row. I’m strong, even though I’m slender.”

“All that canoeing,” he guessed. He gestured inside the garage, up toward the rafters.

There sat the old green canoe, straddling two rafters.

“I didn’t realize we still had it.”
Why have I never looked up there?

Peter tossed the screwdriver onto his toolkit, came up behind her, and squeezed her shoulders with both hands. “She’s a classic. Wooden, right?”

“Yes, I think the gunwales are mahogany. Haley’s dad and I spent hours as kids, paddling up and down the shore, exploring the islands. Mom and Dad loved it, too.”

His breath tickled the hair by her ear. “Canoeing was my favorite part of Scout camp.”

“We should get it out on the water.”

“We should.” Peter’s hands slid down her arms. “You are vibrating.”

She laughed and hugged herself. “I loved that boat.”

“Feel like bringing it down from the rafters right now?”

“Let’s.” She turned to face him and saw exhaustion etched into his forehead and around his mouth—lines she hadn’t seen before. “Wait, you’re just coming off your shift. You’ve got to be wiped out.”

“I’m good for ten minutes.” He started into the garage. “That’s long enough to haul it down and move it out to the grass.”

Gwen studied the situation while Peter wrestled with a rake, hoe, and spade that blocked access to a tall stepladder.

“You’re sure about this?” she asked.

“Nothing to it.” He set up the ladder directly under the crossbar closest to the stern. Gwen held the ladder steady while he climbed, and he told her his plan. “I’ll slide it back, until the bow clears the rafter, then tip it down to you. Can you bring the nose to the floor without hurting yourself?”

“No problem.” Gwen eyeballed the clearances as he shifted the canoe back a foot at a time. She could see the plan would work.

She should have known, though, from the bits of dust that slipped off the canoe on its backward path, that she was in for it. As soon as the bow tipped toward her, decades of grime, dust, and bugs pelted her.

Coughing and laughing and shielding her eyes, she reached blindly for the nose of the old canoe.

Peter groaned. “I am so sorry, Gwen.”

“I’m okay. Guide my hand.” She waved it around.

“Hold steady. Okay, a few inches to your right. And forward two inches.”

Gwen touched the metal strip that capped the bow. The old, canvas-covered, wooden boat felt like an old friend in her hand.

As she brushed off her face with her free hand, she flashed back six weeks, to the moment when her friend Gianessa’s bridal bouquet had dropped into her hand, just as unexpectedly. The moment the rose petals caressed her palm, Gwen had intuitively taken possession of the bouquet of fresh, fragrant lilies and roses.

Now, with the forgotten, much-loved nose of the canoe pushing against her fingers, she instinctively tugged it with both hands. As it neared the floor, she kept her right hand on the nose, slid her left hand along the gunwale to the first crossbar, and guided the bow until it rested on the concrete floor. “It’s down.”

“Hold it there, just like that, for a second.”

He rested the tip of the stern on the rafter and climbed down. Together they maneuvered the sixty-pound boat to the floor, turned it over, and rested the bottom on the concrete, without damaging its fifty-year-old skin.

“She’s a beauty.” Peter trailed his fingers along the gunwale as he came to stand beside Gwen. “Do they even make canoes like this any more?”

She did a little dance of excitement and squeezed his waist. He lifted a few oak leaves out of her hair and showed them to her. “How did these get on top of it, all the way up there on the rafters?”

“Must have been a strong wind swirling through the garage one fall.” Gwen bent from the waist and shook out her hair, then stood tall and brushed debris from her once-white T-shirt.

“Thanks to me,” Peter said with a chuckle, “you need another shower, and it’s not even ten o’clock. Let’s carry the canoe out to the lawn and call it quits for now. I need to crash.”

When the canoe rested on the soft grass behind the garage, Peter moved to her side. His strong hands caressed her shoulders. “One of these days, we’ll take it for a paddle.”

Gwen gave him a smile that made his tired eyes sparkle. She lifted up onto her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Soon.”

Chapter 3

Who knew an old canoe was the key to a woman’s heart?
Peter shook his head with a grin as he swung his Jeep into the parking lot of his apartment building. At the moment, home was a one-bedroom dungeon a block from Tompkins College.

As he exited the Jeep, he heard music blare from a neighbor’s living room. His shoulders tightened. “Shaughnessy,” he told himself, “that’s what your noise-canceling headphones are made for.”

He really needed to get out of this pit, and he wished the letter would arrive from his attorney with the final accounting from the divorce. When he had come home this morning for a quick shower and picked up his mail, he had been so focused on breakfast with Gwen and Haley that he hadn’t even sorted through the pile.

Now he tossed his keys in the basket by the front door, set the wrapped-up breakfast from Gwen’s in the microwave for a minute, and poured himself a glass of milk. The mail still waited for him where he’d dropped it on the counter. He poked at the pile and saw his attorney’s return address peek out at him.

Ripping open the envelope, he found two pages, neatly folded—a terse letter confirming this was the final bill and a one-page accounting of services, with balance due. No check thanking him for overpayment, but he knew all along that was a dream. He inspected the figures from top to bottom. The amount due was eight thousand more than he’d hoped.

With a heavy sigh, he set the pages aside and took the warmed-up breakfast out of the microwave. As he unwrapped the meal, memories wafted up from the home fries and the cheese and veggie omelet. Haley’s expressive face. Gwen’s take-charge presence in her own kitchen. The ever-changing cadence of their laughter. Haley licking peanut butter from her fingers. The meticulous way Gwen worked from one end of her omelet to the other, always taking a mouthful of something else between each bite of eggs.

They’ll be safe now, with the new lock
.

He smiled at the thought, a little surprised by it. He liked taking care of his women. Until now that had meant his traitorous wife Cynthia, his mother—may she rest in peace—and his mixed-up sister, Bree. He’d known Gwen and Haley less than a day, but they felt like family somehow.

He drained the glass of milk, washed and dried it, and put it away. To his surprise, the impossible dream of owning a house faded quickly and painlessly. The real significance of the final bill from his attorney was that, as soon as he paid it, he’d be free.

Tears welled up and he blinked them away.
Free to start over
. Find a decent place to live. Settle into his new city, Tompkins Falls. Explore whatever this was between him and Gwen Forrester.

Thank God Gwen was a good sport about the grit and bugs in her face. Besides getting the canoe on the water, he needed to get her out on a proper date, someplace special. How could he get her away from Haley long enough, and where could he take her on his salary? It had to be special, fit for a classy lady like Gwen. Ralphs, his favorite burger joint, would not cut it.

The calendar on the refrigerator caught his eye, and he noticed the star in the square for Sunday. Tomorrow. That fancy dinner-dance for the outgoing chief at the Manse. Classy? Definitely. He had accepted the invitation a month ago and, without thinking, said he’d bring a guest.

He reached for his phone, but a wave of fatigue stopped him. First sleep. Then invite Gwen. Then write the last payment to the attorney, put out feelers for an apartment, get supper, and go to work.

“I called Rick,” Haley announced as she came down the stairs.

“I’m proud of you.” Gwen poured glasses of iced tea and carried them to the island. “Can he come to Tompkins Falls?” At Haley’s nod, she asked, “When will he get here, sweetie?”

“Suppertime tomorrow.” Haley’s knuckles were white as she gripped the edge of the island. “You’re sure it’s okay if he comes?”

“I’m very sure it’s okay. That leaves us all day today and most of tomorrow to shop for maternity clothes and get our nails done. I’ll make an appointment at the Spa at the Manse.”

“Like I can afford a mani-pedi and new clothes,” Haley said with a flippant laugh.

“It’s an aunt’s prerogative to pamper her pregnant niece.” Gwen pretended to scowl. “If you don’t let me do it, I might hate you.”

“Don’t.” Haley rushed in for a quick hug. “But first I need to make a doctor’s appointment. Like highest priority. I promised Rick. And myself.” She closed her eyes. “Except I have no idea where to start.”

“We could start with a pregnant woman I know.”

“That’s brilliant.” Haley’s eyes popped open.

Gwen chuckled as she reached for a pad and paper and her cell phone. She speed-dialed and held up one finger for Haley each time she heard a ring.

On three, she exclaimed, “Gianessa, good, I got you.”

Gwen motioned Haley closer and scribbled, ‘Gianessa Cushman.’

“All is well, thanks. Gianessa, my niece Haley arrived last night. Surprise, she’s seven months pregnant. How—? Yes, we’re very excited, thanks. Haley will be staying with me through the birth of her baby, right, Haley?” Haley nodded and leaned closer. “We’re calling, because she has not yet seen a doctor, and we need to find one to follow her through the birth. How should we proceed?” Gwen listened and doodled something on the pad.

Haley frowned at Gwen’s drawing of a duck on a stream, with steam rising from the water.

“Terrific, thanks. Haley’s right here. Can I switch to ‘speaker,’ Gianessa?”

Haley clapped her hands and slid onto a stool at the island while Gwen placed the phone on the marble surface and punched the speaker key.

Haley didn’t wait for an introduction. “Hi, Gianessa. I’m Haley, the unmarried niece. Thanks for helping.”

A sweet laugh drifted out of the phone. “Hi, Haley. Someday Gwen and I will tell you my story. But right now, let me ask a lot of questions and then we’ll come up with a plan.”

“Sounds good.”

Gianessa pounded Haley with questions about nutrition, sleep, vitamins, weight, activity level, Rick’s health, their alcohol and drug use, and any medications she took. Haley answered each question simply.

“Sounds like you’re taking very good care of yourself and your baby,” Gianessa said. “Dr. Bowes will be really pleased with that.”

“Who’s Dr. Bowes?”

“She’s my obstetrician in Clifton Springs. She also runs a clinic at the hospital for moms-to-be who don’t have an established relationship with a doctor.”

“She sounds cool.”

“She is. And she’s no-nonsense, so you have to promise me you’ll do everything she says. She hates whiners. I don’t want to bring her a whiner.”

“That’s perfect, because I’m trying to be really grown up about this, even though I’m scared to death.”

“You know, Haley, I’m a little scared, too. I’m having twins.”

Haley’s strangled response made Gwen laugh.

“Maybe you and I can ride over to our appointments together,” Gianessa said.

“That’s even more perfect because I don’t have a car.”

“Haley, you and I will get along very well. I’d like you to call the following number at the clinic,” she directed.

Haley wrote it down.

“Tell them I have an appointment with Dr. Bowes Monday, the day after tomorrow, at one o’clock. See if you can come around the same time. Tell them you’re riding with me. Okay so far?”

“Yes, I’m ready,”

“They might want you to have blood work done ahead. Will you and Gwen take care of that?”

Haley checked with Gwen, who nodded. “Gwen says yes.”

“Call me back with details of your appointment as soon as you know. I’ll work on my husband Justin to drive the three of us. Gwen can come, too.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Rick, my boyfriend, will be here by then. He needs to go with me.”

Gwen spoke up. “And I have clients Monday, but Rick should ride along.”

“No problem,” Gianessa agreed. “Anything else right now?”

“Gianessa,” Gwen said quickly. “Where can we find some maternity clothes for Haley?”

Gianessa gave her the names of several stores she liked at Eastview Mall in nearby Rochester, and they signed off.

That done, Gwen handed the phone to Haley and took a seat at the island. Haley screwed up her courage to call the doctor’s office. It was not an easy negotiation and not without a few tears, but once Haley had booked her appointment at Dr. Bowes’ clinic for noon on Monday, Gwen felt more optimistic about her role as the go-to woman in Haley’s life.

Another quick phone call assured them that Gianessa’s husband was on board with driving Haley and Rick, even though it meant leaving an hour earlier. Gianessa asked Haley to make a list of questions and concerns for Dr. Bowes.

While Haley wrote her list, Gwen caught up with her friend. As their conversation wore down, Gwen said, “I never asked if you want to come shopping with us?”

“I would love to, but I’m picking out furniture for the nursery.”

A smile spread over Gwen’s face. “Have a wonderful time.” A little flutter in her belly made her hope she’d be doing that for her own baby in a year or two.

Justin Cushman offered his elbow, with a wink for his very pregnant spouse. “Come for a drive?” he enticed with a twinkle in his eye.

Gianessa had been cautioned several weeks earlier to stop work, curtail vigorous activity, and guard against falls. She resisted anything that resembled fussing, but a little experimentation had shown Justin that “gallant” worked very well.

Gianessa took his arm, with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s time to see our new house,” he explained.

Her mouth made an O, and she nodded with gusto. “There’s a road and everything?”

“A beautiful gravel drive from the highway.”

“Does this mean the house is finished?”

“Very close, sweetheart. We’re at day four of a ten-day countdown.” As he led her carefully down two flights to Lakeside Terrace, he told her, “Until last week it was a gaping skeleton. Now the windows are in and the systems are working, and it’s the home we planned. I think you’re going to approve.”

His Saab was already at the front door, pointing downhill. “You knew I’d come along, didn’t you, dude?” Gianessa’s laugh was a melody that warmed his heart.

“You couldn’t resist.” Justin helped her into the passenger seat and they rolled down to the highway. Once on the Cushman grounds, the Saab crested a high hill and glided down through evergreens to a birch grove. “The last time you saw it, we’d just broken ground.”

“But Gwen is across the lake. She’s been issuing weekly reports. I know it’s three stories and lots of glass.”

“That’s true.”

They emerged from the trees, and Gianessa gasped. Words failed her, but she squeezed his thigh and laughed with delight.

Justin reveled in the wonder in her amethyst eyes. Gianessa Dupioni Cushman was the most desirable woman he’d ever known, and, coming from someone who had done business on four continents, that was saying a great deal. Now pregnant with their twins, she had never been more beautiful.

He stopped near the front door and helped her from the car and across a stone terrace. “The entry makes it look like the house is just one level. The other two levels stack below, as the slope falls away. Do you approve?”

“It’s inviting.” Gianessa squinted at the massive, teak front door. “Will I be able to open this, dude?”

“Formidable, isn’t it?” Justin nodded. “Try it.”

She pressed the latch, and the door swung open. “Easy.”

Once inside, they passed through a large entry into the great room, made for entertaining. Its wall of windows framed the view they both loved.

She pressed her forehead to the glass and gazed at the deep blue water that stretched like a long finger almost twelve miles to the south, where it bent to the right and disappeared behind a steep hillside of rock and forest. “Justin, this is your dream come true.”

“Our dream, sweetheart,” he corrected gently.

She turned with dancing eyes. “Our home,” she said. “Show me. Already, it’s grander than I imagined.”

“Come see the kitchen.”

Her squeal made him chuckle.

“You haven’t seen it yet.”

“But I know it’s going to be our favorite room.”

After steering her through a formal dining room, he swept his hand to show off the dark granite counters and cherry cabinets. “Our gourmet kitchen is complete and ready to use. We can make ourselves
doppio con panna
right now, if you like. Decaf, of course.”

“Let’s.”

While he fussed with the new espresso machine, she opened and closed cupboards, exclaiming at the dishes and glassware. A peek at the pantry revealed shelves filled with their favorite staples and treats. The freezer held entrees from their usual restaurants and grocery stores. “You are the best husband in the world.”

He chuckled. “At the table by the window, I’ve put out the artist’s rendering for you. Ask me whatever you want.”

She studied the drawings while the machine gurgled and hissed. Finally, Justin spooned on whipped topping and joined her.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he tested.

“Mesmerized. Have you any idea what a thrill this is?”

“I know you’ve been anxious that we might have to live at 14 Lakeside Terrace with two babes in arms.”

“And now I know we’ll be right here before they’re born. Justin, even if the great room and the kitchen are the only rooms finished, we could camp out and never go hungry.”

Justin barked a laugh. “Well, that’s not going to happen. We may not have a deck right away, and the guest floor will not be finished until the holidays, at the earliest, but we’ll be living here in comfort—nanny and nurse, too—within two weeks.”

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