Page 13 of Something About September

“Something tells me you aren’t feeling fulfilled with the big box store contracts,” Rebecca said.

Sabrina sighed as she uncorked the apple wine. “Not entirely,” she said. “It feels more like a science experiment at this point than anything to do with food. But,” she said firmly, generously pouring pinot into two glasses. “It’s good for the orchard. And that’s that. So, want to stay for dinner?”

“You don’t have to go to any trouble.”

“Are you kidding? Cooking for friends and family is what fulfills me. You know that. As soon as you texted you were coming, I planned a menu. Sweet potato chowder and French onion grilled cheese. Simple. You can help chop—and tell me what’s on your mind, because you’ve clearly had a day.”

“How can you tell?”

“I’d like to say it’s best friend’s intuition, but my mom called on her way out of town with my dad—I sent them for a spa night, I always do during harvest season, just to prove to myself I can handle things on my own. She told me that earlier, she saw Crispin’s Volvo and Cort’s truck in your parking lot at the same time. Plus, that Eli Walsh had been spotted there midday, in a tricked-out purple pickup truck. Tell me everything.”

Rebecca let out a groan so agonized it caused Sabrina’s Bernese mountain dog, Rusty, to rouse from his nap by the fireplace at the other end of the wide, open-concept room. When he lifted his head and spotted Rebecca, he wagged his tail and lumbered over for a pet. Rebecca buried her hands in his thick, soft fur as she began to tell Sabrina about her day. Sabrina laughed over her recollections of the Eli Walsh visit, and Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh a little herself as she told Sabrina about the plaster disaster, the destroyed floorboards, the running leap onto the countertop. “The guy is a menace,” she said. “Somehow, worse than when we were in high school.” But her expression grew serious as she began to talk about Cort’s arrival, then Crispin’s.

“I didn’t even know the back door lock was broken. If I can’t handle that, how am I going to source an entire fleet of pumpkins and gourds?”

“Something needs to be done about Crispin,” Sabrina said grimly. “Autumn decorations should not be causing people such anxiety.”

“Tell me about it. And it feels like extortion! Somehow, I owe the BIA two thousand dollars. You’d think, with fees like that, they’d take care of the decorations themselves.” She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes, feeling something loosen inside her that she’d been holding in all day. “And I just feel so guilty. Even when the diner was closed, Lenore kept the building shipshape. She decorated every fall. It was important to her. Crispin is right—I’ve let it go to ruin. But…” She trailed off, sipped her wine for fortification, but found it hard to swallow over the lump in her throat. Meanwhile, Sabrina’s expression contained understanding.

“You miss her. And I bet it hurts, not to be getting a ton of grace from the town Lenore so adored, the place where you grew up. But please, don’t let Crispin be a representation of everyone’s feelings toward you. This town loves you. They loved Lenore. It’s going to be okay.”

Rebecca put her wineglass down. “I treated Cort so badly today, Sabrina. When he was just trying to help. I’m ashamed of myself. I don’t know what it is about this place, but it sometimes feels like every time I drive under the ‘Welcome to Bramley Hollow’ sign, time starts to reverse. I’m not seventeen, but I’m acting like it. It feels like a curse—in a depressing fairy tale with no happy ending in sight. I know I owe Cort an apology.”

Sabrina dropped into the chair beside Rebecca. “You’ve been through a hard time, Rebecca. I know it’s been a year, I know it wasn’t unexpected—but we lost Lenore.” Now her blue eyes were shining with tears, and Rebecca felt one of hers fall, too. Her best friend handed her a cloth napkin and she sniffled into it.

“We lost Lenore,” Rebecca repeated. “And she was the best. Wasn’t she?”

“She was so good.”

“I wanted her to live forever.”

Sabrina’s smile was sad. “So did I. Not just for you—she made me feel like family. I think about her every day.”

Rebecca reached for her friend’s hand. “We needed this, didn’t we?” she said with a watery smile. “We needed to sit here, in this town, and talk about how sad it is that she’s gone. And I put it off, way too long.”

“Stop doing that. Stop blaming yourself for things you decided on during a really hard time, after you had lost someone so important to you. Aside from Crispin, no one is holding this against you.”

“Except Cort.”

“Not even him, I’m sure of it. And, yes, maybe you do need to apologize to him for today, but that doesn’t mean you have to hire him. I know last night I was making a real case for it, even after you told me about that night at the Tipsy Apple. But after sleeping on it, it feels really clear. Your history with Cort is complicated. And, sure, you’re both adults now, not the teenagers you were when it all started—but that doesn’t make it less painful. High school leaves a mark. I still go the other way in the grocery store any time I see Heather Walsh, even though it shouldn’t matter anymore that she bullied me when we were kids.”

“She was just jealous,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “And you’re right about Cort. Somehow, I just can’t seem to get past all that history we have, no matter how much I want to. And I guess the truth is, I’m embarrassed.”

Sabrina stood and returned with a Calloway’s Orchard branded notebook. “We’ll figure this out. You know I believe there’s no problem a good list can’t solve. Let’s figure out your vision for the project. Then I’ll ask around with some of my contacts, and we’ll find you someone else.”

“I don’t have time for a vision. Crispin gave me thirty days. I need to repair what’s broken, clean it out, and put it up for sale. I have no other choice.”

Sabrina’s pen stilled on the page. She looked up at her friend. “Right. And then? You’ll head back to Toronto?”

Now it was Rebecca who paused—though she wasn’t sure why. “I’m on a monthlong leave from work and then, yes, I do have to get back.”

“Of course.” Sabrina shook her head. “I don’t know why I get like this. You’re back here for five minutes, and I start to convince myself you’re just going to stay. You’re not the only one with regressive tendencies. I have to remember you can’t live across a field from me anymore, flash signals at me before you go to sleep, no matter how much I miss it.”

“I miss it, too,” Rebecca said softly. “Last night, I was looking out my bedroom window, remembering our flashlight code.”

“What was wrong with us?” Sabrina shook her head. “We could’ve IM’d each other, but instead we pretended to be Anne Shirley and Diana Barry.”

“I wouldn’t have us any other way,” Rebecca said with a smile. “I wish we could always live so close to each other, too. I wish it could be different but…it isn’t.”