Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2) (24 page)

“I love you, Prim. I think I’ve always loved you.” His voice sounded flat and dull even to his own ears. “But I can’t be with a woman whose heart isn’t free.”

“My heart
is
free.” She closed the distance he’d placed between them, this time touching his arm. “Rory has been gone nearly two years.”

“He may be gone, but you haven’t let him go.” Max dropped his hand from the urn as if the shiny black enamel had turned scalding hot. “You told me he wanted to be scattered to the winds, but yet you keep him here. It’s as if you can’t bear to let him go.”

Two bright red patches of color dotted her pale cheeks. “Why is everyone all of a sudden so concerned about that damn urn?”

Less than an hour before, Max had watched the Delaneys throw their suitcases in the Buick and drive off. As far as he knew they’d had no prior plans to leave. It didn’t take a math genius to connect the dots.

“So I’m not the only one who finds it odd you’ve kept his ashes.”

“This conversation—or whatever it is we’re having—is about you and me, Max. Not about Deb.” The words burst from her mouth as the temper she usually kept under tight control flared. “If you don’t want to be with me, just say it. Don’t make up some silly story that me being in love with Rory is the reason we can’t be together. He was my husband. Of course I loved him. A part of me will always love him. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Will Rory always be between us?” Though Max was convinced he knew the answer, he pressed again, harder this time.

“Rory was my husband. He’s Callum and Connor’s father.” Instead of angry, she now sounded weary. “I don’t know why you feel you had to come up with a reason for walking away. You could have just said it wasn’t working for you.”

Not working for him?
Didn’t she understand how much she meant to him? How hard this was for him? “I—”

“Frankly, I think a smart guy like you could have come up with a better excuse.” Prim’s lips twisted. She gave a humorless laugh. “If Deb were still around, she’d tell you to consider yourself lucky because I don’t have what it takes to keep a man’s attention. You know what? She’s obviously right.”

Before he could respond, her jaw jutted out and fire returned to those hazel eyes. “But I did the best I could during my marriage. I’m doing the best I can now. I didn’t need this from her and I don’t deserve this from you. Get out, Max. Get out of my house and don’t come back.”

“Prim.” He reached out. He wouldn’t leave her. Not now. Not like this.

Ignoring the outstretched hand, Prim went to the door and jerked it open. “Good-bye, Max.”

Despite the approaching thunder of little feet, Max would have stayed, nearly did. But he’d been caught up in too much drama as a child to knowingly put Callum and Connor in that situation.

Without another word, Max brushed past Prim and walked out the door.

C
hapter
T
wenty-
F
our

“Mo-om, what are you doing in there?” Connor called out.

Prim shut off the faucet she’d been running full bore.

“Can we have a snack?” Callum asked through the closed bathroom door.

“I’ll be out in a second.” After blowing her nose, Prim flooded her eyes with Visine, not wanting her sons to notice the redness.

Not that she blamed herself. What woman wouldn’t cry when the man she loved walked out on her?

Love.

Yes, she loved Max Brody. She could admit that now. For all the good it did her.

Drawing a steadying breath, Prim opened the door.

She kept busy organizing closets and then playing with her sons. Each time Boris let out a woof, she wondered if she’d soon hear a knock and Max would be at the door.

Prim scolded herself for being so foolish. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her. The fact that he’d also said he loved her didn’t mean a thing. He’d left, and actions meant more than words.

The ringing of her phone shortly before supper had her tensing again.
Please, dear God, don’t let it be Eliza wanting an update on the parade.
She relaxed when she saw the readout.
Ami.

“You must be jumping for joy.” Her sister’s voice held a hint of amusement before she began to sing, “Happy days are here again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hadley told me she saw the Delaneys heading out of town earlier today.”

Prim closed her eyes and gripped the phone as the emotions she’d kept tucked deep all day welled. She was forced to clear her throat before speaking. “My life is a massive train wreck.”

Within the hour Beck had picked up the boys and taken them back to his house for a sleepover, complete with a promise of ghost stories told in the spooky third-floor attic.

Ami and Marigold arrived shortly after the twins left, with bags of chocolate and bottles of wine.

Seeing her sisters started the tears flowing.

Now the sisters sat in Prim’s living room, feet bare and up on the furniture in a way their mother would never have allowed in the family home. Wrapped chocolates of every variety had been scattered across the coffee table with a liberal hand. Additional bags were in sacks next to the chairs, just waiting to be sampled.

“Are you ready to tell us what happened?” Seated next to her on the sofa, Ami shifted to face Prim. Her warm green eyes invited confidences.

“Start at the beginning.” Marigold popped a chocolate into her mouth. “Don’t leave anything out.”

Though her baby sister’s tone was matter-of-fact, Prim saw the concern in Marigold’s eyes.

“Deb saw that Max and I had grown . . . close.” Prim took a sip of wine, then another. “Though we tried to be discreet, apparently the connection showed. I could tell it bothered her, but I never thought she’d—”

Prim’s eyes filled with tears, recalling the look of almost
hatred
on her mother-in-law’s face.

“Take another gulp of wine,” Marigold urged. “Heck, chug the bottle.”

“We want her relaxed,” Ami told Marigold, “not drunk.”

The sisterly banter brought a smile to Prim’s lips. She took another sip of the pinot and pulled up the events of the morning. “It all started when Deb overheard the twins telling me they wanted Max to be their daddy. Not only that, they said they liked him better than their real daddy.”

Marigold visibly winced. “Ouch.”

“That had to hurt.” Ami grimaced. “What did you say?”

“I told her I didn’t appreciate her eavesdropping on a private conversation.” Prim tightened her hold on the wineglass. “It was knee-jerk. I don’t recall exactly what I said after that, except I know I told her that hearing the twins say that they preferred Max made me sad, too.”

“I imagine Deb took it hard,” Ami said softly.

Marigold snorted. “Ya think?”

Ami tipped her wineglass and pointed it at her youngest sibling. “Cool it.”

“Deb accused me of not loving Rory.” Prim closed her eyes against the pain. “She said if he’d been happier and more content at home, he might not have felt the need to go on all those adventures, that maybe he’d still be alive.”

“That’s a low blow.” Ami’s tone could have frosted glass.

“Bitch.” Marigold spat the word.

“Maybe it’s true.” Prim raised a hand to stop her sisters’ protests. “Seriously, I don’t think I
was
enough for him.”

Without warning, Prim surged to her feet, startling Marigold, who’d leaned forward to scoop up some chocolates.

Setting her wineglass on the coffee table, Prim began to pace, finally pausing by the corner cabinet. She trailed her fingers down the urn. “Deb suggested I’m keeping him close in death because I couldn’t keep him close in life.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Prim saw her sisters exchange a glance.

Ami moved to her side. “I never thought that, but I did wonder why you haven’t scattered his ashes by now.”

Marigold unwrapped a couple of chocolates, her gaze never leaving Prim’s face.

“I—I don’t know.”

“I think you do.” Ami gently stroked Prim’s arm.

“It’s true I hated having him gone so much. I missed him. The boys missed him. After he died, it did give me comfort to have him close. That probably doesn’t make sense, but—”

“It makes perfect sense,” Ami reassured her. “His death was unexpected. But it’s been two years, Prim.”

Prim suddenly stiffened. Her voice turned frigid. “Is two years the magic amount of time?”

The calm and unruffled way Ami looked at her reminded Prim of their mother. Nothing they ever did or said could make her lose her cool.

“There’s no magic time. You and I both know it’s different for everyone.” Ami gazed into her eyes. “I was simply wondering if you still feel the same need to keep Rory’s ashes now as you did back then.”

“I wasn’t ready to let him go then, but I am now.” Simply saying the words had the weight lifting off Prim’s heart. “I think I’ve been ready for a while.”

“There’s no rush.” Ami touched her hand.

“We can go along, if you want,” Marigold offered.

“Or if you feel there’s someone who could benefit more from taking this step with you, that’s okay, too.” Ami’s soft voice soothed and comforted.

“Max brought up the urn.” Prim swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat. “He said he couldn’t be with me because I was still hung up on Rory.”

Prim thought of all the years she and Rory had spent together, all the memories they’d shared.

“I can’t remember ever not being in love with Rory. From the moment we met, that was it. He never even really proposed, there wasn’t any need. We both knew we were meant to be together.” Her smile faded. “We were so young. We never even bothered to think it through. There’s so much I would have done different. So many questions I would have asked. Who marries someone without asking the important questions?”

Ami only squeezed her arm.

Marigold tossed her a couple of pieces of candy. “Have some chocolate.”

For several seconds the three refueled in silence on chocolate and wine.

Prim broke the silence first.

“I chose to walk down the aisle and marry Rory. I did have a choice, at least as much as he did.” Prim glanced down at her hands, seeing in her head the diamond in the modern platinum setting she’d once worn. “I sometimes wonder if, given another chance, he’d have chosen me.”

“You were happy together.” Once again Ami’s mellow tone soothed. “He loved you.”

“We
were
happy,” Prim agreed. “We were very different people who didn’t always see things in the same way. But that can be a good thing.”

“He loved you,” Ami repeated. “You centered him. And he made you realize the importance of enjoying every day.”

“Carpe diem,” Prim murmured, sinking back down on the sofa.

Ami dropped down beside her on the overstuffed cushions. “Exactly.”

“Max said he wouldn’t pressure me, but that’s what he did today. Then he walked away.” The stabbing pain in Prim’s chest returned, making breathing difficult.

“You made it clear you weren’t going to marry anyone until the boys were grown,” Ami reminded her.

Prim sighed. “That’s what I said.”

Ami and Marigold exchanged a look.

“You must have had a good reason for saying that.” Marigold unwrapped a chocolate she’d been playing with, finally popping it into her mouth.

“The best interests of the twins have to be my priority.”

Marigold looked puzzled. “Don’t you want the boys to have a father?”

Prim lifted her hands, let them fall. “What if he got tired of me? What if I wasn’t enough?”

“Hogwash.” Marigold washed down the chocolate with a big gulp of wine. “You’re everything Max ever wanted.”

“He said he’d never leave me. Or the boys.” Recalling the promise in his eyes had Prim tearing up all over again. “But he did. He walked out that door. Of course, I told him to leave, but still, he left.”

Her lips turned down like an unhappy clown’s, and try as she might, they refused to lift.

Ami patted her hand sympathetically.

Prim’s eyes were drawn to the urn. “He thinks I chose Rory.”

“You did choose Rory,” Marigold reminded her. “You married the guy.”

“No. Now. He thinks I’m still choosing Rory.” While it likely wouldn’t change anything with Max, it was time to let Rory rest in peace.

Ami’s fingers tightened protectively on Prim’s hand. “It will be okay.”

“It’ll never be okay. I’ve lost Max.” Then she rested her head on Ami’s shoulder and cried like a baby, or like a woman who’d just lost the man she loved.

It was at times like these that Max wished he had a father. Someone to bounce ideas off of, someone to tell him that he’d made an ass of himself. He suspected if his dad were alive, that’s just what he’d tell him now.

Why had he let his mother’s comments and Deb’s barbs get to him? Things had been going so well between him and Prim until he’d gotten himself riled up and made a big deal about a jar of ashes. So what if they sat in her living room cabinet? So what.

He knew Prim cared for him. She wouldn’t have slept with him otherwise. Maybe she didn’t
love
him, not yet anyway, but he and Prim were a helluva lot closer than she and Rory had ever been.

She would love him. It was just a matter of time. Which meant he needed to be patient and not do stupid-ass things like going over to her house and insisting she choose between him and her dead husband.

If he and Prim were to be together, he needed to understand—and accept—that Rory would always be a part of her life. And when he came to her, hat in hand, he needed to make her see that he wasn’t just spouting words of apology, he meant them.

The drive to Sturgeon Bay took less than thirty minutes. He pushed open the door to the jewelry store on Third Avenue and felt the blast of cold air. His shopping list today was short and sweet. Two items of jewelry.

One, a nod to the past.

The other, a promise for the future.

“I was surprised to get your phone call.” Deb stood beside Prim at the edge of the Good Hope soccer fields.

“Thanks for driving all the way back from Appleton.” Prim shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry Mike couldn’t join us.”