Ready for Love (2 page)

“Getting any closer?”

“Good days, bad days.”

“I hope seeing me won’t make this a bad day.”

“Seeing you is wonderful. I’ve wished for years to have the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was to have left without a word. Sometimes when we’d come for a summer visit with my parents, I’d think about going down to McCarthy’s to see you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“That would’ve been so unfair to you, for me to show up out of the blue like that after all that time just so I could make myself feel better about being a shit to you.”

“I would’ve liked to have seen you, to have met your kids. More than anything, I’ve missed my friend Sydney. The best friend I ever had.”

Her eyes sparkled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Luke,” she whispered. “I’m so very, very sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I forgave you years ago. You were nineteen. You didn’t owe me anything.”

She reached over and rested her hand on top of his. “I owed you so much more than what you got from me after four magical summers together.”

The brush of her skin against his brought back a flood of sweet memories, the sweetest of all memories. He turned his hand so hers was caught between both of his, and the emotion hit him so hard it took his breath away. Suddenly, it became urgent that he leave before he said or did something he’d regret. “It was good to see you, Syd.”

“Thanks for checking on me.”

Luke grimaced. “Checking is a much nicer word than stalking.”

She squeezed his hand. “It touched me last summer to know you were here, that you cared, despite the way we left things. I hope you understand I wasn’t ready yet…”

“Please. Of course I understand.”

“Will you come back again?”

Startled by the question, Luke said, “Do you want me to?”

“I missed my friend Luke. I never stopped missing him.”

Overwhelmed by her, he couldn’t find the words.

“I can see I’ve caught you off guard. I’ve been doing that to people a lot lately. Ever since the accident, I don’t see much reason to hold back. Life is short. What’s the point of hedging?”

“No point, I guess.”

“I don’t mean to shock you.”

“You haven’t shocked me so much as given me a lot to think about.”

“Do you accept my apology?”

He nodded. “Clean slate.”

“That’s far more than I deserve.”

“The slate is clean, remember?”

She smiled at him the way she used to when she still loved him, and Luke swore his heart stopped for an instant.

He forced himself to release her hand, to get up, to walk down the stairs, to make his escape while he still could. He’d made it to the lawn on the way to the beach when she called out to him.

“Come back, Luke. Please come back again.”

Luke waved to show he’d heard her and continued toward the shore on what used to be his well-worn path between her yard and the beach. His old rowboat, the same boat he’d had way back when, waited for him to make the trek across the salt pond to the same small house he’d once shared with his mother. Her illness had kept him tied to the island when Sydney and his other friends were leaving for college.

He’d never regretted giving those important years to the woman who had raised him on her own, but he couldn’t help but wonder what might’ve been different for him—and for Sydne
y—if he’d been able to accept the scholarship he’d been offered that would’ve made him a marine biologist. Would that profession have been good enough for Sydney? The Sydney she’d been back then?

Probably not. She’d married a banker. A guy who studied algae and pond scum probably wouldn’t have made the cut. Either way, it didn’t do any good to speculate now. What difference did it make? She’d made her decision a long time ago, and he’d had no choice but to accept it.

Except, as he rowed slowly across the vast pond, guided by the light of the moon and stars, he was filled with an emotion he hadn’t experienced in so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like: hope. She’d never forgotten him. She’d thought of him, missed him, regretted their parting.
God, what did that mean?

She was no longer married. Her husband and children had been gone for more than a year. He could see just by looking at her that she was doing much better accepting the awful hand life had dealt her than last summer when the pain of her loss was still so fresh and new.

“Ugh,” he said out loud as he rowed. “Don’t go there, man. It was over and done with years ago. Leave the past where it belongs.”

But even as he told himself there was no point, that pesky burst of hope refused to be ignored.

Every morning since the accident, Sydney had woken to the ever-present physical reminders of her own injuries: aching hips and pelvis, throbbing in her left femur and the excruciating pain in her heart as she was forced to remember what she’d lost all over again. The first few minutes of each new day were often the worst, so she always took a moment to absorb the pain and find the fortitude to keep going.

For a brief instant this morning, she couldn’t remember where she was. That’d happened often since she’d woken in a pain-filled haze in the hospital, asking for her children, asking for her husband. As she’d done so many times since then, she forced the horrific memories from her mind and took a visual tour of the pleasant bedroom from her childhood summers on Gansett Island.
 

Filled with relief to be back on the island, she reached over to pet Buddy’s soft fur, grateful as she was every day for his company and steadfast devotion to her. Before everything happened, she never would’ve allowed him in the bed she’d shared with Seth. Now he slept tucked against her every night, taking and giving comfort.

She’d come to the island filled with determination to make some decisions about her future. After the first agonizing Christmas without her family, she’d returned to work as a second grade teacher, thinking that getting back to her routine would help to jumpstart her life. It hadn’t taken long to realize being around other children close in age to the two she’d lost was not at all the catharsis she’d hoped it would be.

Rather, it was sweet torture to look at the children in her classroom and be reminded day in and day out that her own beautiful children were gone forever. So she had soldiered through to the end of the school year and stood now at a crossroads with big decisions to make. She’d already told her school she wouldn’t be back next year. The principal had urged her to take the summer, to think it over, to give herself some more time.

But she’d seen no point in holding up a job that someone else could do much better than she could. She saw no point in returning year after year to teach children the same age her son had been when his life came to an abrupt end. While she’d always loved the job and the age group she taught, it just wasn’t possible to do it anymore. So she’d endured the party her concerned colleagues had given to wish her well and emptied her classroom for the last time.

She would’ve left the next day for the island—the one place where she could find the peaceful calm she needed more than anything else at the moment. However, a court date for the drunk driver who’d hit them had kept her in Wellesley until late July, only to have the proceeding postponed until the fifth of September at the last minute.

Her parents had fretted about her being alone on the island for the month of August, but she’d assured them she and Buddy would be just fine and had promised daily phone calls to check in with them. The promise had pacified them, and she’d sent them on their way to the reunion of her father’s family they’d looked forward to in Wisconsin. They were heading to California from there, completing a lifelong goal to drive cross-country. After the long dark winter that followed the accident, it was time for all of them to get back to living again.

Sydney had given herself this month to figure out what was next. Thanks to Seth’s practicality and knack for growing money, she’d received a substantial life insurance payout after his death that, coupled with their savings, gave her a nice cushion. Maybe she’d go back to school or travel or move to a new city where no one knew her. The entire world was open to her. It was just a matter of deciding what she wanted and where she wanted to be.

According to her counselor, making plans was a sign of recovery. Sydney wasn’t sure she wanted to hear that. How does a mother ever “recover” from losing her babies? After Max was born, someone had given her an embroidered pillow with the saying, “A child is your heart walking around outside your body.” If that wasn’t the truth! And then when Malena came along, Syd had given away what was left of her heart. Losing them wasn’t something she expected to ever “get over.”

But life had an irritating way of marching forward, of forcing the living to get on with it even when it would be so much easier not to. For a while, after the accident, she’d entertained the darkest thoughts of her life, had flirted with the notion of ending it all, of putting a stop to the relentless pain any way she could. Only knowing that she couldn’t—and wouldn’t—do such a thing to her grief-stricken parents had kept Sydney from going too far down that tempting path.

Turning over in bed, she took a moment to study the photo of Seth and the kids that she’d placed on the bedside table. Sometimes it was still so hard to believe they were really gone forever and not off somewhere together, due home any time now.

She shifted her gaze to the view of the pond in the distance. Not much had changed since the summer mornings of her youth: scores of boats at anchor, activity and bustle in Gansett’s vast Salt Pond. As she had during many of those long-ago mornings, she wondered if Luke was out on the water or working on the docks at McCarthy’s Gansett Marina the way he had since he was a boy.

Seeing him last night had brought back so many precious memories. It was no surprise to her that he was as stunningly handsome at thirty-six as he’d been at nineteen. Perpetually tanned skin, silky dark hair that fell over his forehead, soft brown eyes, lips made for kissing…

For so many years, he’d been at the center of her life, even though she’d seen him only during the summers. Her parents hadn’t approved of the passionate love between two teenagers, so she and Luke had been forced to do a lot of sneaking around to be together.

It pained Sydney to realize as an adult, with the hindsight of so much time gone by, that she’d allowed her parents’ views to influence hers. She’d let social status and money and things that didn’t matter in the least drive her decisions. When she thought about what she’d done to a decent, kind young man who’d deserved so much better, she was ashamed. Even all these years later, even after she’d apologized to him, she was ashamed of how she’d treated him.

That wasn’t to say, if she had it to do all over again, she would change anything. Her decisions had led to Seth, Max and Malena, and she could never, ever be sorry about having had any of them in her life. Yes, she was sorry her decisions had caused such pain for Luke. She would always be sorry about that, but she was wise enough now to know that all the regrets in the world couldn’t change the past. All anyone had was right now. Today.

“What shall we do with this bright and glorious day, Buddy?”

The dog barked and then stretched on the bed.

Sydney laughed. “I figured you’d vote for the beach.”

Sydney drove back to the house after a few hours at her favorite hideaway beach. Buddy rode shotgun, head out the window, tongue lolling in the breeze. Before Seth had worn her down and convinced her that kids shouldn’t grow up without a dog, Sydney wouldn’t have described herself as a dog person. That, too, had changed. Sometimes she wondered how she ever would’ve survived the last fifteen months without Buddy’s loving presence.

She’d purposely sought out a secluded stretch of beach where he could play in the surf without any of the disapproving glares they would’ve gotten at the town beach. There’d been a time, not that long ago, when she might’ve been one of the glare givers. Not anymore.

Approaching the house, she slowed when she saw a black SUV parked in the driveway. Even in the peaceful Boston suburb where she lived the rest of the year, she would’ve had a moment of trepidation alone about a strange vehicle outside her home. But since nothing bad ever happened on Gansett Island, Sydney pulled up next to the vehicle and cut the engine.

Her childhood friend, Maddie Chester—Maddie McCarthy now—got out of the SUV and waited for her.

Sydney let out a squeal of pleasure at the sight of her old friend and rounded the car to hug her. “Oh! Look at you!” Syd pulled back to rest a hand on Maddie’s pregnant belly. “Oh, Maddie!” They hugged again, both with tears on their faces.

“It’s so good to see you, Syd.”

“You, too.” Maddie had hair and eyes the color of caramel and a figure that resembled a pinup girl. “You look so good! When are you due?”

“Not until November, if I don’t explode before then.” She tugged on a lock of Sydney’s hair. “I love it shorter.”

“Thanks. It’s much easier at this length.” Sydney appreciated that Maddie didn’t lead with the grief. She’d received her friend’s cards and letters, and contacting her this summer had been at the top of Syd’s to-do list. “I’m sorry I didn’t call last summer.”