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She frowns. “I’m offended.”
I huff in disbelief. “You’re scheming.” I tug the gloves off and join her at the table.
She bats her lashes. “No. I was going to say that if this agreement with Duke is your only way forward you should absolutely not risk messing it up.”
“Okay, thanks…”
“But…”
I laugh. “Here you go.”
“Beth. You have to admit that Carter coming back now feels like…a sign.”
“I don’t believe in signs.”
She leans back in her chair and watches me with a smug smile on her face. “Do you want to know where I went while you were sleeping?”
Her question is out of left field, but I’m more than happy to move on from the conversation about Carter. “I thought you were running an errand for your dad.”
“The guy who owns Corks is donating a bunch of shelving and stuff for the library, and I had to meet him there so he could drop it off.”
Just the mention of it makes me clench my thighs together. Lord help me when I’m actually back there again. “That’s nice of him.”
She nods and smiles. “His dad and my dad were friends. And he’s been really good to my dad. Anyway”—she waves her hand dismissively—“while we were walking back to the car he mentioned the famous fella”—bought one of his pianos.”
“Carter bought the piano in his bar?”
“No, he bought a blue piano that Gary bought from Drew Wolfe.”
I sit up straight and gape at her. “My father sold Bethany’s piano to the guy at Cork’s?”
She nods. “Who sold it to Carter.”
“Oh my God.” I gasp and cover my mouth. Bethany’s piano. My father sold it in a pique of anger after my miscarriage. He told me it was halfway across the world. I’ve been monitoring piano resale and rehab sites on every corner of the globe trying to find it. And it’s been right here all this time. “Carter bought it?”
“He did. Paid double the asking price. But apparently, he has nowhere to put it. Something about the roof of his lake house collapsing. So it’s just sitting there...” She looks at me meaningfully.
“I see.” I feel like crying.
“When it could be here, in your house, where it belongs. Where he can come play it.” She yawns.
“You’re tired, D, get some rest.”
She nods and glances at her watch. “I’ve got to be on the road early, so yeah, I better.”
“Thank you for dinner.”
She leans down to hug me. “You’re welcome. Thanks for letting me crash. This was fun.”
I stay at the table until I hear her bedroom door close. I don’t believe in signs, but it’s hard to ignore the way things seem to have aligned to bring Carter and I back together.
When all the color left my life, I was glad to see it go. But I’m starting to long for it again. I head to my studio.
The door’s long unused hinges high-pitched protests are amplified by the room’s excellent acoustics. I haven’t been back here since that summer. It’s completely empty. I cross over to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and use the pulley to lift the blinds. Light from the full moon spills into the room, causing the gleaming wood floors to glow like rose gold, illuminating a cardboard box sitting in the corner. It must be Jude’s. My father hadn’t given her much time to clear out when he evicted her.
I sit cross legged in front of it and brush off a thin layer of dust coating it. “Hmmm.” My name is written in Jude’s handwriting across the top in black marker. I turn to look around the room, even though I know I’m alone. The memories are like specters drawing my eyes to the spot in the room where they occurred.
To my right would have been the couch Carter and I often slept on, curled up into each other, cramped, hot, and unwilling to let even an inch of space separate us.
