“Cole.” Georgia cleared her throat. “Could you not tell Star I’m here? I want to see her first, to tell her myself.”
“Sure,” Cole agreed gently. He picked up the axe. “Good night, Georgia.”
“Good night,” she said. She looked so uncertain. He made himself turn away.
•••
Star was gone?The reality hit Georgia in the chest with a blunt force that left her breathless. After Cole left, she wandered into the guest bedroom and riffled through her suitcases, looking for her warmer pajamas. The news changed everything. She was too late. She had been imagining time with Star in the cottage on the bay, time to get to know each other, time to explore what it meant to be mother and daughter. She had thought she could convince Star not to sell, that she could rebuild what she’d destroyed with her hasty departure. But she was too late.
Where would she live? What would she do? Would Star even want to see her or have anything to do with her? What if Georgia had destroyed their fragile relationship by her return to Paris? Suddenly, the step she’d taken to come back, full of faith and expectation, seemed foolish and doomed. She washomeless, almost penniless, and she’d hopped a plane to a remote island where it now appeared she could not even hope to have a roof over her head. It was a frightening prospect. The future she had dreamed of for herself and Star could never happen now. The house was gone. Star was settled on Lopez Island, and who knows how she’d feel about Georgia coming back. Had Georgia just given up everything for nothing?
And what about you?Georgia had wanted to ask Cole as he stood there in the doorway clutching that axe with a stunned expression on his face.How do you feel now that I’m back?But she hadn’t. She was afraid to know the answer.
She pulled her phone out, suddenly tempted to text Michel and tell him she had changed her mind, that she wanted the chef position after all, but something stopped her. No, she could not go backward. Even though she had no idea what would happen now, somewhere deep in her heart there was a quiet, steady assurance that she was making the right choice. Not necessarily easy, and certainly so far it was not going at all as she’d imagined it would. But still...
“Julia, am I supposed to be here on the island?” she whispered. “Is this the right thing to do?” But Julia was silent. Georgia sighed. This was no one’s decision but hers, she understood.
She bit her lip, thinking hard. It was daunting to consider making a life here in Friday Harbor with no job and nowhere to stay. More daunting than when she’d arrived in Paris so long ago, following her dream. Only this time, it was not a dream she was following. Her mother was here on neighboring Lopez Island. And Cole was here too, whatever that meant.
“I want to stay,” Georgia whispered. If she did not, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life. Star had so little time left before her illness took her mind. Georgia would never forgive herself if she left Star now. She reached up andrubbed the four-leaf clover charm, saying a quick prayer for faith, hope, love, and luck. Faith that everything would turn out, hope that what was lost could be restored, gratitude that she had found the love of the woman who had born her, and at the end she tacked on a heartfelt request for a little bit of luck to smooth out these next uncertain, scary steps.
COLE
Georgia was back. Sitting in Martha with the engine running the morning after the surprise bathtub incident, Cole watched her disappear down the passenger walkway onto the ferry bound for Lopez Island. She was going to see Star. He had driven her to the ferry as soon as she’d knocked on the door of his cabin at a surprisingly early hour. She’d been pale and resolute, sitting beside him all the way to Friday Harbor in uncharacteristic silence.
He watched her bright flame-colored curls disappear into the ferry, then reversed Martha and headed toward home, his thoughts churning. The two weeks she had been gone had felt like an eternity. He genuinely feared she was gone forever, and that thought had gutted him. When she’d accosted him in his cabin the day she left for Paris, she’d dropped a nuclear truth bomb on him and then stormed out, leaving him with his thoughts and the best rice pudding he’d ever tasted. As he sat there nursing his wounds and spooning the creamy goodness into his mouth, her words had burrowed into his subconscious. She’d gotten him thinking, and he finally faced some hard truths. As it turned out, that pudding had been a catalyst for things he should have done long ago. He didn’t even like rice pudding. But he liked Georgia May Jackson. He liked everysingle thing about her. No, that was a lie, he thought ruefully as he wound his way slowly through the heart of Friday Harbor. A lot of things about her drove him completely nuts. Like her stubbornness. And her ability to vivisect his wounded heart with her scalpel eye, so casually, and so accurately. It was extraordinarily irritating. But she drew him and motivated him in a way no one had ever done before.
As he passed Kings Market and the movie theater and headed out of town, he pictured her last night, breathlessly telling him she’d turned down winning the competition. What would it mean if she really was back on the island for good? What would that do to his plans? He thought of the fat job offer packet that had arrived a few days ago in the mail, of the plane ticket to San Francisco waiting with his name on it. His real name. The timing could not be worse. And yet, he couldn’t keep waiting around, doing penance, hiding away. Georgia had been right. He had to start living. It was time for Dr.Cabot Cole Montgomery to come back to the world. But now she was back...
He swore fiercely under his breath and braked for a doe who sprang across the road in front of him. He gripped the steering wheel. Whatwouldit mean if she was back for good? The thought was incendiary; it set his heart alight. But at the same time it absolutely terrified him. A part of him wanted to run as fast and as far as he could away from her, to protect his battered heart, to keep hiding away so he didn’t get hurt again. The other part, the part that made his pulse speed up every time he heard her name, knew he was a goner. He was so in love with her. He was so afraid.
He punched the gas, burning rubber and barreling down the road.
“Don’t get your hopes up. She may not stay, now that Star’smoved away,” he muttered aloud to himself. He had seen the anxiety and uncertainty in her face when he’d told her about Star’s move and the sale of the cottage. It had upended all her plans. Maybe she’d decide it was a safer bet to go back to Paris after all. He savagely spun the wheel and turned right into the driveway for the shellfish farm in a spray of gravel. Whatever the outcome, one thing was clear. Georgia’s return was throwing his heart, and his life, into chaos and confusion once more.
40
Georgia arrived onLopez Island in a light morning drizzle. She disembarked from the ferry and stood for a moment, trying to get her bearings. It had been dry and clear in Friday Harbor with a pale, weak sun, and she was not prepared for rain. She looked around, wishing for an umbrella. The few other foot passengers quickly dispersed, and she was left alone at the ferry dock with not a taxi in sight. She checked her phone. No cell service. Great. She’d saved a copy of the GPS directions to Star’s new residence on her phone before she’d gotten on the ferry. It looked like it was about three miles away. Gazing around her once more in the hopes that a taxi would miraculously appear, Georgia mustered her resolve and started walking.
Over an hour later, she was soaked, shivering, and deeply regretting not having had the forethought to call ahead for a ride or at the very least use the bathroom at the ferry terminal. It was a gray, wet, miserable walk on quiet country roads that wound through forests of towering evergreens. No cars passed her. She was utterly alone. She trudged on.
Finally Georgia rounded the last curve and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the number post. This was it. A long lane led away from the road down toward the sea. In the distance, she counted eight or nine small cottages painted a cheery yellow and a large farmhouse in the same hue. Wincing, she gingerly started down the muddy lane. She’d spent the last two miles fantasizing about throwing her shoes into the roadsideshrubbery and going barefoot. She had a blister on her left heel the size and shape of a nickel.
Suddenly a blur of yellow shot toward her from the direction of the cottages like a bolt of lightning, knocking her off-balance. She yelped as Pollen put her front paws on Georgia’s chest and licked her chin, happily barking a welcome.
“Pollen, down, girl. Come here!” Star ran out the front door of one of the cabins, chasing down her dog. She stopped short a dozen yards away when she caught sight of Georgia, her expression turning to pure astonishment.
“Georgia May?”
“In the flesh,” Georgia said weakly and pushed Pollen off of her. There were two giant muddy paw prints on the front of her blouse, which was so completely soaked that she could see her lace bra clear as day.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Star asked, looking thunderstruck. Through the drizzle, Georgia noted that Star did not seem very pleased to see her.
For a moment, Georgia faltered. “I came back,” she said. “I said no to the chef position in Paris and I came back.”
“Why in the world would you do that?” Star asked, staring at her in evident dismay.
“I thought you’d be happy...” Georgia trailed off uncertainly. This was not going at all how she’d hoped or imagined it might.
