Home Sweet Home (22 page)

As soon as Andi stepped away from the microphone, the crowd stood up to gossip over the strange twist the meeting had taken while her client made a beeline for the stage.

Even as darkness stole through him, Nate couldn’t take his eyes off of Andi. She was standing a foot from the microphone, looking tormented.

Horrified.

Her hand moved over her mouth and her eyes were big as she turned to him.

“Nate.”

His name was a plea. But he couldn’t talk to her here. Now.

“Don’t, Andi. Just don’t.”

Nate knew it wasn’t fair to blame the silver-haired man for any of this, but in that moment, he actually hated the stranger. Simply because his presence tonight had forced Andi to admit the truth of her feelings—and to make her choice—not just in front of Nate, but before every single person at the town hall meeting.

She hadn’t just denied being with him; she’d simply failed to be the one person he needed in his life to make him whole. He had invested so many hopes and dreams and promises in her, in the future he envisioned for them, and in the end—the end where he’d thought everything would work out eventually—she just wasn’t there, wasn’t ready to step up to the plate and
try
.

He’d reached for her again, for the second time since he was a teenager…and she’d pushed him away.

Nate heard her say, “Mr. Klein, thank you again for coming tonight,” as if through a thick barrier.

The man’s reply barely funneled through Nate’s brain. “I’m not sure what to say, Andrea. I’m more than a little confused about this carousel business and what a knitting fund-raiser could possibly have to do with our project plans?”

Nate couldn’t stand there and listen for one more second. Not when everything he’d thought was finally his wasn’t.

Not when he needed to get out of there and start figuring out how to pick up the pieces.

Again.

“Nate, please wait!” Andi had followed him through the back door to the small room behind the stage.

Nate felt broken. All used up. Emptied out.

And still, he couldn’t make himself leave. Not when Andi was still so close.

Not when her voice was breaking with tears—and fear.

“I shouldn’t have said that to Jerry. My answer was a mistake. I heard the question and saw the look on my client’s face and freaked out. I wouldn’t have said what I said if I didn’t have to. But I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it, Nate.”

Jesus, he hadn’t felt this sick to his stomach since that moment he’d walked into the trailer and saw his father’s body. Nate’s throat was so tight he could hardly get any words out, and Andi was blurring in front of him where she stood.

“Your boss was there,” he told her, unable—unwilling—to keep the sarcasm from his tone. “You had to protect your job.”

And they both knew the only reason she’d had to save her butt was because she was going back.

Because Andi had never had any intention of staying.

She was coming toward him, her hand outstretched. “No, Nate, I just messed up. I messed up so badly.”

He could see the tears in her eyes, but for once, he knew he couldn’t let them move him.

“I can’t believe I said that. I was just acting out of habit, giving the kind of answer I’ve had to give a hundred times when a deal is going bad.”

He moved out of her reach, and her eyes flashed with deep pain.

“Please, Nate, listen to me. I swear, I’m going to figure out a way to make it right. I’m going to tell everyone I didn’t mean it.”

All these years, the horrible memories of his father’s suicide had darkened Nate’s dreams, along with that vision of Andi walking away from him. He’d had to fight like hell not to guard his sister like a crazed man, not to imprison her with his fears. But he’d made sure to imprison himself, to keep what was left of his soul safe.

Until these past two weeks. Until Andi returned to him…and he’d let himself love her again.

Wouldn’t you know it, all of his fears had come back to nail him right in the middle of his heart, tearing out chunks, piece by piece, until he wasn’t sure how there could be anything left beating inside his chest anymore.

“I always believed in you, Andi. I know all those years came between us, but we were both just kids then, immature and full of pride. But we’re not those kids anymore. You didn’t think you were strong enough to deal with coming home and worrying about my sister and helping your mother and grandmother and loving me, but I knew differently. I knew you were. I had faith in you.”

“Then give me another chance.” She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “Because nothing has ever hurt more than this—than knowing I had a second chance at love and I blew it. Please, Nate, believe in me one more time. Just one more time.”

God, it was all he wanted. To hold her in his arms and kiss away her tears. But he couldn’t keep pretending that would be enough.

Because it wouldn’t be. He knew that now.

“I figured something out tonight, Andi. Something I didn’t want to see.” His throat felt like he’d swallowed fire. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. You’ve got to believe it, too. And I don’t know how to make that happen.”

She looked at him with those big blue eyes, tears falling one after the other as the words he had to say gutted him, body and soul.

“I thought it was about you admitting your love for me, Andi, I thought once you did that everything would be okay, that you’d be able to happy. I thought we could finally be happy together. But now I can see it’s not about me at all. It never was. You were always loving me the best you thought you could. You still are.”

And it wasn’t enough.

“You said what you said tonight to drive me away.” He made himself hold her gaze, even though just looking at her hurt. “Congratulations. It worked.”

Nate picked up his bag and made himself walk to the door, even as she said, “I thought you were going to love me forever, Nate. I thought you said you’d love me no matter what this time. Wasn’t that what you told me?”

Loving his mother hadn’t stopped her from dying too young. Loving his father hadn’t stopped him from killing himself. Loving Andi hadn’t stopped her from leaving at eighteen. And it wouldn’t stop her from leaving now.

He thought he’d broken through the final shred of fear in his soul. But now he knew that he couldn’t survive being left again by someone he loved.

Looking at her over his shoulder, he said, “I meant it, Andi. I will always love you.”

And he would. Forever.

Even though he had to be the one who left this time.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

O
ut.

Andi needed to get out of the barn, out of the room where she’d made her biggest mistake ever.

Leaving her bag behind, she ran down Main Street. The wind was whipping through the trees, her hair was flying, and goose bumps were running up and down her limbs. It wasn’t until she was past all of the stores and restaurants that she realized it was raining, too.

The storm had come. And she’d been right to be afraid.

She ran until she was out of breath. Until she couldn’t run anymore. And that was when she looked up and realized she was standing in the middle of the town cemetery.

She hadn’t planned to run here. To run straight to her father. But she had nowhere else to go for answers.

Tears and rain made it hard for her to find her father’s gravestone. Finally she saw the contours of her father’s name etched so carefully into the granite.

“I’ve missed you, Daddy.” She dropped to her knees in the wet grass. “So much you wouldn’t believe it.”

She knew he wasn’t actually there in front of her, but she felt that he was listening all the same. And that was why she knew she had to be honest. More honest than she’d ever let herself be.

“I tried to grab the brass ring, Daddy. I gave it everything I could.” She bowed down over his grave, her sobs heaving in her chest, her entire body. “But it was too hard. It took too much out of me. And I failed.”

She’d never wanted to have to admit to anyone that the reason she’d always worked so hard was not so much because there was something vitally important that she needed to achieve…but simply because she was terrified of failing.

“Do you know that I never really felt like I fit in, Daddy? I was so busy chasing after you, after your approval, that I never really let myself focus on the people who were here all along.”

She’d always felt like an outsider looking in. Searching for her place. Last night in Nate’s arms, when she’d finally confessed her love, she’d wanted to believe that she’d found her place. But she hadn’t.

“Now that I’ve come back, so many of them hate me. I don’t want to be an outsider anymore. But I am. And it’s all my own fault.”

Even in the city she’d kept herself from forming strong attachments to anyone. Not just men—she’d known deep within herself that no one could ever take Nate’s place in her heart—but even with the women who had made overtures toward becoming friends.

“I’m still in love with Nate, Daddy. He was in love with me, too, and he gave me a second chance.” The magnitude of everything she had just lost sent shooting pains through her, cramping her belly. “But I ruined that, too. I threw his love away. For a job.”

Oh god, how could she not have realized until now—until it was too late—that losing her job was absolutely nothing compared to losing Nate?

“I should have never come back home. Why did I think these condos would fix everything?”

Not just her career. But her past with Nate. Somehow she’d thought if she did enough good with her job, it would make choosing her career over him ten years ago all worth it.

“I know you loved me. I know you raised me to be strong. And I tried, Daddy. I did just what you said and gave it everything I could. But I don’t think I have anything left to give this time.”

Nothing but losing Nate ten years ago had ever hurt this bad. Not even, she now realized, her father’s death.

She felt her phone ring inside the pocket of her suit jacket.
Please, let it be Nate. Please, let it be Nate!

But when she went to pull it out, she could already see it wasn’t Nate’s name on the bright screen. It was her boss, Craig.

Grief came at her doubled as she dropped the phone back into her pocket.

Nate could hear laughter coming from inside Betsy’s house when he knocked on her front door.

“Oh Nate, hi!”

She had on a sparkly hat the girls had made her. Behind her the house looked warm. Happy.

“Thanks for having Madison over for dinner while I was at the town hall meeting. I really appreciate it.” He tried to smile, but he couldn’t. “I can take her home now.”

“Nate?” Betsy moved closer to him, pulling the door closed partway behind her. “Is everything okay?”

Uncomplicated. That’s all he could think as he looked at the woman standing in front of him. Loving Betsy would have been so uncomplicated.

“It’s been a long night.”

Her eyes were full of concern. “You look like you need a drink.” She gave him a little smile. “I’ve got an open bottle of wine that I’d be happy to share with you.”

Betsy wasn’t the kind of woman who would break his heart. She would always be there, waiting for him with a smile, with open arms. She’d take on his daughter without blinking an eye, without worrying for one second if she had what it took to help raise Madison.

“You’re getting wet. Come inside, Nate.”

And for the first time ever, Nate went in.

A
ndi knew her mother would be waiting for her when she got home. She found her elbow deep in flour and chocolate chips.

Her mother had always baked when she was upset, had once told Andi that the process of watching separate ingredients come together into a cohesive whole always gave her hope that things would make sense in the end.

Carol stopped kneading the dough the minute Andi walked into the kitchen.

“Honey, I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Her mother was across the room in a heartbeat, her sticky hands reaching around Andi’s shoulders. But even her warm arms couldn’t erase Andi’s deep chill.

“You need to take off those wet clothes and dry off.”

“It doesn’t matter, Mom. I’m fine like this.”

Andi didn’t think she would ever feel warm again. Not even after she’d changed into dry clothes. Because her chill wasn’t skin deep.

She’d yanked out her own heart tonight and replaced it with a block of ice.

“What happened, honey?” Her mother’s pretty face was ravaged with concern.

Andi had just come from telling her father everything. But she’d never known how to confide in her mother like that. She still didn’t.

“I can’t stand to know that you’re in pain, honey. I know I haven’t been the best mother to you, and I know I’ll never be able to replace your father, but if you’ll just give me another chance—”

Andi finally found her voice. “How can you say you weren’t a good mother to me? You were always there for me. Always.”

“Not in the ways you needed me to be. I knew how to bake muffins and do your hair, but I never believed I knew how to guide you in the direction you seemed to want to go. Which was why I left that all up to your father.” Carol’s face was awash with regret. “I left too much to your father. I see that now.”

“Were you happy with Daddy?”

Andi hadn’t ever planned to ask her mother that. She’d been too afraid of pushing her mother even further away with the pointed question. But weren’t all those fears the reason she was hurting so bad now?

“Yes, honey, I was happy with your father.”

Any other night, Andi knew she would have taken her mother’s response at face value, simply because it was what she wanted to hear. But she couldn’t do that anymore, couldn’t twist everything up so it fit into a neat little box.

“How can you say that when he was gone all the time? How can you say that when he never included you in his plans unless he needed his pretty, smiling wife at his side to look good?”

Carol’s eyes glittered. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry to hear you say that. To know you think that. I should have sat down with you before now to talk about our relationship. To explain about our marriage.”

“What’s there to explain? It’s obvious that he thought he was too big, too busy for you.”

And
, she couldn’t help but think,
for his own daughter.

Her mother moved around the kitchen island to take Andi’s hands in hers, flour and chocolate forgotten. “Come. Sit down. Please.”

Andi let her mother lead her over to the kitchen chairs.

“You already know that I met your father when we were both at the university in Washington, D.C., and we lived there until we had you.”

“Until he dumped us into the backwater and started his political career.”

Andi was as surprised as her mother by the resentment in her own voice. Just like Nate, she hadn’t wanted to admit how angry she was with her father for the way he’d treated his own family, like they were second-class citizens to his constituents.

“No, honey, he didn’t want to leave me here. And he definitely didn’t want to leave you here.”

“Then why did he?”

“Because I refused to go back to the city. I refused to leave my family to live on a street full of strangers. I refused to let my daughter go to schools where I didn’t know every single teacher by name. Deep in my heart, I believed that you needed to grow up in Emerald Lake. And I loved having you here with me, loved knowing you were surrounded by people who loved you, who looked after you to make sure you stayed safe.”

“Are you kidding?” Andi tried to push down the sob that rose up and failed. “Did you see what happened at that meeting tonight? Everyone here hates me. I’ve never fit in. Never.”

Her mother reached over to wipe away her tears then, the same thing she’d done when Andi was a little girl. “Oh, honey, no. People might hate the idea of condos, but they could never hate you. You’ve always been the town’s golden girl, the one everyone has been so proud of since that first spelling bee you won when you were eight. How could you not know how proud we all are of you?”

“I went for the brass ring, Mom. I thought I had it. But I wasn’t strong enough to hold on. Daddy always told me to be strong, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Honey, you’ve always been strong. Always. And if you’d seen more of your father maybe you would have known what going for the brass ring meant to him. That it didn’t just mean success. It meant family and love and happiness.”

Andi reeled from what her mother had just told her. Had she really been wrong her whole life about her father’s mantra? And how would she ever know for sure without him being here so that she could ask him?

“Oh, Andi.” One lone tear rolled down her mother’s cheek, quickly followed by another. “All this time I wanted to think that my way was right, that I did the best I could, that I made the best decisions I knew how to make. Instead, I held you captive in a town you couldn’t wait to get out of. Your father tried so many times over the years to try and get me to change my mind, but I wouldn’t bend.” Carol covered her mouth with her hands. “I just wouldn’t bend.”

So many things didn’t make sense tonight to Andi. “Are you saying that you and me living here without him was your decision?”

Her mother looked surprised by Andi’s question. “Yes.”

“And you stood up to him again and again?” At Carol’s frown, Andi said, “All this time I thought you were going along with whatever he wanted because he was so strong and you were—”

“Weak.”

“No!” Andi almost shouted the word at her mother. “Gentle. Warm. Because you loved him too much to stand up to him and tell him what you really wanted.”

“I still love him,” her mother said softly. “Every second of every day.”

“But you were so unhappy sometimes,” Andi said, unable to forget those bleak hours after her father left again for D.C., when both she and her mother knew he wouldn’t be coming back for weeks. “Didn’t you ever wish that you had married someone who wanted the same things you did? Someone who would be there every morning and every night?”

“I’d be lying to you if I said no. But what I felt for your father was bigger than where we lived. Or how much time we were able to spend together. My only regret about loving your father is the toll it took on you not always having two parents in the same place at the same time.” Carol wouldn’t let Andi evade her gaze. “Is that what’s holding you back with Nate, honey?”

“I never stopped loving him, Mom. He told me he loved me, too. That he forgave me for leaving before. I had everything I ever wanted.” She had to close her eyes against the pain. “And I blew it tonight when Jerry asked that question. I tried to explain, I tried to apologize, but Nate wouldn’t forgive me. Not this time. And why should he? I left him before. I almost left him again.” She tried to breathe, but couldn’t find any oxygen. “But he left me first.”

Carol scooted her chair over and put her arms around Andi. “Give him time, honey. He never stopped loving you and he won’t stop now, I can guarantee that. Real love doesn’t have anything to do with perfection. Real love is what happens when everything isn’t perfect…and you love each other anyway.” Carol pulled back, tilted Andi’s face back up to hers with her index finger. “Promise me, you’ll give all of this some time. Not just for Nate, but for you, too.”

Andi had never looked at her mother as anything more than a politician’s wife, a mother, and a small knitting store owner. She could never understand why her mother hadn’t wanted more. But now, as she sat and talked with her mother—finally connecting the way they should have years ago—Andi finally saw the truth: Through her innate gentleness, through her baking, through her presence at Lake Yarns, Carol had always made a difference in people’s lives. Perhaps it was on a much smaller scale than what her father had been able to accomplish as senator, but that didn’t mean it was any less important to the lives her mother had touched.

Had she been looking to the wrong person for lessons in strength all along? Instead of her father, should she have been giving the credit to her mother and grandmother, to all of the incredible women she’d connected with at the yarn store, women who were strong enough to triumph over anything life threw into their paths? Women who had all of the strength but none of the glory?

“I know this has been a hard night for you, honey, but your grandmother has been waiting up for you to tell her about the meeting tonight. I don’t want her to worry that something happened to you.”

But Andi couldn’t leave yet. Not until she said something she didn’t say nearly enough.

“I love you, Mom.”

Her mother’s eyes were awash with tears. “I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you, honey.”

They hugged for a long time, both of them crying. Finally Andi pushed her chair back and was halfway out of the room when she realized there was one more thing she needed to say.

“Thank you for offering to sit with Mr. Klein tonight. I didn’t expect him to attend the town hall meeting.”

Again there was that surprising spark in her mother’s eyes, a slight flush in her cheeks. “It was no problem at all, honey. Actually he was very nice.”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

The words were hard to force out, but that spark that had been missing from her mother’s eyes made it possible to get them out. And to know that she was doing the right thing.

“It’s okay if you want to see Mr. Klein again.”

Her mother stood up so fast she almost knocked over her chair. “Your father—”

“Is gone. But you’re still here.”

“No. Really. I couldn’t possibly be with another…”

“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But if he asks you out—and I really think he will—can you at least think about saying yes?”

Her mother took a deep breath. “Maybe.”

Just then, Andi’s phone rang again. She cringed at the hope in her mother’s eyes.

“It’s not Nate.”

“Please, just look, just in case.”

The hope in her mother’s eyes was almost enough to spill over into her, but when Andi looked at the screen, she simply confirmed, “It’s my boss.”

She had made a trade, love for a career. But even that had gone wrong.

For Craig to be calling her again and again on a Thursday evening meant she’d screwed up in a big way at the town hall meeting.

She hadn’t just lost Nate, she was going to lose her job, too.

Blinded by the tears that were coming again, tears that just kept coming, Andi didn’t see a bag that was on the floor until she had stepped on it. Bending down to pick the bag up, she realized the Fair Isle sweater she’d been obsessively working on was inside.

Lightning continued to light up the sky when Andi knocked softly on her grandmother’s bedroom door. She wasn’t surprised to find her grandmother sitting up in bed knitting.

Knitting the wedding veil.

Andi’s gut twisted hard enough that she had to stop, had to take a deep breath to recover before crossing to her grandmother’s bed.

“Grandma, I’m so glad you’re better. And that you’re finally back home.”

Andi almost forgot she was soaking wet as she went to go hug her grandmother.

“Give me a kiss first, and then after you’ve put on something dry of mine, we can have a good long hug. There’s a nightgown in your size folded up in the left corner of the armoire.”

Andi pressed her lips to her grandmother’s soft cheek, then took out the soft nightgown. As she unfolded it, she realized just how old the fabric was.

“This is beautiful, Grandma.”

The workmanship was incredible with hand-sewn lace along the neckline, wristbands, and hem.

“I made it for your aunt Rose. Go. Put it on.”

Andi was extremely careful with the soft, thin fabric as she changed out of her wet clothes in the bathroom.

“Beautiful,” Evelyn said when she emerged. “You remind me so much of Rosie sometimes.”

“I wish I could have known your sister.”

“Maybe someday you will.”

Her grandmother had never given up hope that the sister who’d disappeared so many years ago would someday reappear, even though there had never been so much as a hint that Rose was still alive.

“Now come give me that hug.”

Andi should have been there to take care of her grandmother. But as soon as Evelyn’s strong, slim arms came around her, Andi knew that it was exactly the opposite.

“Everything is going to be all right, honey. I promise you it’s true.”

Andi didn’t say anything, just let her grandmother stroke her hair. Finally Evelyn pointed to Andi’s bag.

“Is that the Fair Isle?”

Andi pulled out the sweater. She didn’t know why she’d brought it to Evelyn’s cottage.

“I knew you’d do a wonderful job with it, honey.”

“What made you think I could figure it out? Especially when I’ve never seen such a complicated pattern before.”

“You can do anything you set your mind to.”

“I used to think that was true,” Andi said softly.

“Tell me what your first thoughts were when you first saw this pattern?”

“I’m not sure you want to hear those kind of words, Grandma.”

“You kids think you invited dirty words. And sex.” She pinned Andi with a wicked look. “You most definitely didn’t.”

Not sure she wanted to picture her soft, sweet grandmother having wild monkey sex with anyone, Andi quickly said, “The pattern looked like another language. One I couldn’t see the point of figuring out.”

“But you did.”