She handed him his watch. “You left this.”
He took it, eyes locked on hers. “Holls. You okay?”
“Next week? I thought you were here until September.” She could hear her voice break. “I thought we at least had the summer.”
“Shit.” Ben glanced back at the dock, then at her. “Holly, I was going to tell you last night. I just found out myself.”
“Well, you should have. Before we went to dinner. Before we…”
Ben grabbed her hands in his. “I know. I had every intention. But we were having so much fun, and I didn’t want it to end. You’ve been under so much pressure lately, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“Donotput this on me,” she said, withdrawing her hands.
“I’m sorry. What I meant was that last night was a break for both of us. It felt like we were kids again, no worries in the world, just the two of us and Chatham and the whole summer ahead of us.” This time when he took her hands, she let him. She’d felt it last night, too.
“Only it doesn’t sound like we have the whole summer ahead of us. Are you really going?”
The regret was in his eyes already. “I have to. It’s a big trial, and the court moved the date up. If I could change it, believe me I would.”
With the words out, Holly had a decision to make. One had already been decided for her, but there was another she had control of. “I have to get back to work.”
“The grand opening.”
She nodded.
“About that. My partner, Jonathan, wants to work through the weekend to prep for trial. But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can. I still have a lot I need to do around here for Jonah.”
“For Jonah,” she said. She turned for her car.
“Holls.”
“Please, don’t call me that.”
He reached for her shoulder and gently turned her back around to face him. “Last night meant a lot to me.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Me, too.”
With as much dignity as she could muster, Holly got in her car and backed out. She didn’t look in the rearview mirror. Tears burning, she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead all the way back to the inn.
All the light she’d felt that morning clouded over, like a storm coming in off the water. When she got back to the library, the Candy Manor had delivered the chocolates for tomorrow night’s event. Cheerful pink boxes covered the coffee table. Linus had rolled the wine cart to the corner, by the pedestal of the one fern he’d agreed to. Holly looked from the chocolates to the wine, went to the desk by the window and put her head down on it. Then she did the only thing she could: she called her mother.
Claire was in a meeting when she answered. “Mom.” It came out like a strangled cry.
“Holly? Is everything alright?” Holly could hear people talking in the background, the sound of a door being closed. It got quiet and her mom came back on the phone. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“All of it.” With the words out, the rest followed. The upsand downs of the inn that summer, her grandmother’s explosion about the goldfinch, the worried staff, the glowing reviews but fading finances, and finally—Ben Walters. Her mother listened, her tongue clucking in sympathy at every beat, her voice unusually tender. “I don’t know what to say,” she answered, finally. “This is all so much. I wish you’d called me.”
“I thought I could handle it. I needed to see if I could.”
“Holly, this sounds like too much for any one person to handle alone. But guess what? You don’t have to.”
Holly listened as her mother reminded her of all the people who’d circled their wagons for her. Her grandmother, her staff, even Ben, in his own complicated way. And finally her own mother. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing, really. I just needed to hear your voice.”
When they hung up, her troubles hadn’t changed, but she was still glad she’d called. She wished her mother lived closer; she wished she’d visit more.
Greta knocked at the door. Holly had completely forgotten they had a meeting about the grand opening. “Is now a bad time?” she asked, peeking at Holly’s tear-stained face.
