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“Every morning, I made us toast for breakfast. We were so poor, we rarely had butter, but we always had grape jelly. Some days, I couldn’t get the jar lid open, and I’d have to ask Will forhelp before he left for work. Eventually, I realized the lid was only ever too tight the mornings after we’d argued at night.”
Gia smiled fondly at Arden, then gave the same warm regard to Rowan. Tears burned behind Rowan’s eyes.
“Each time, we had this little routine. I’d pass the jelly to him without a word, and he’d loosen the lid. Then he’d come very close and cover my hand with his as he gave me the jar. He’d say in that rumbly bear voice of his, ‘What would you do without me?’ and I would answer, ‘Eat dry toast.’” Gia giggled like she was twenty again. “Then he would kiss me on the forehead and go to work, and all would be well.”
“That’s a really cute story, Gia, but I don’t understand how this will help me with Harry.”
Gia held up a finger and smiled shrewdly.
“Dad wastighteningthe lid,” Arden said.
Gia nodded. “He knew it would bring me back to him in the morning, no matter how much we fought the night before.” She took Rowan’s hand. “Find a way tomakeHarry engage with you, Rowan. Find your grape jelly.”
DUNCAN SAT ONone of the cushioned chairs of the wraparound porch, shrouded in darkness. Rowan tapped lightly on one of the pillars, like a knock.
“What’s up?”
“Got hot in there, that’s all.” He sat forward with his elbows on his thighs, hands knotted together. His boots tapped on the wood floor of the porch as he raised and lowered his heels.
“Duncan.” Rowan wrapped her arms around her body. “You don’t—have feelings for me, do you?”
His head snapped up. He skewered her with his black gaze, and his mouth twisted just short of a smile. “I love you, Red. Of course I do.”
Rowan blinked.
Duncan laughed low and shook his head. “Not like that.”
“Then why did you leave like you did?”
“I didn’t realize you and Harry were a thing,” he said.
“Honestly? Neither did I, until a few months ago.”
“A fewmonths?” Duncan’s agitation mounted with every bounce of his legs.
Rowan slumped against the railing. “Is this a problem for you?”
“No, no.” He dropped his forehead to his hand and rubbed. “God,no, it’s not a problem. At least, not in the way you think.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“I just—can’t believe I didn’t notice.”
“Honestly? I can’t believe you didn’t, either.” Everyone else obviously had.
“I’ve got a lot going on. Distractions.” He scratched the worn knee of his dark jeans with his thumbnail, his booted feet still tapping. He was all raw, flustered energy, and his eyes were haunted.
When he didn’t continue, Rowan nudged for more. “What is it?”
“I always thought Harry and Temperance were going to end up together.”
Whatever Rowan was expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. “Wait,what?”
“Shit,” he breathed, dropping his head again to stare at his hands. He let out a long sigh that ended on a half laugh, half groan.“Shit.”
“Harry and Temperance…,” Rowan prompted him.
Duncan shook his head. Cracked his knuckles. “Far back as I can remember, she always preferred his company. We were teenagers when we met—when Nate and Maren got together. She and Harry always had so much in common, even backthen. They’d talk about shit I couldn’t even pretend to understand. Then they both became doctors, both so smart. Harry’s always got his fucking arm around her, kissing her head. I always thought—you know. Then, he and Nicola split and he came back here. I thought he was coming for Temperance. But then when you said that—in there.” He gestured toward the house, and fell silent for a beat. “A lot of shit came crashing down.”
