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He stepped in. “You forget this is a relatively small town. Someone saw you last night at Santa’s Depot.”
“Ah, figures. Well, come in.”
“Do I get a hug?” he asked, and I shook my head.
“I’m sorry, yes! Of course, you surprised me.” I stepped forward, and for a moment, I wanted to stay right there. God, I missed being held. I pulled away before it got weird. “So you met Luke already. Luke, this is an old friend of Mom’s, Peter Sterling.”
“Hi.” He waved.
“How are you, Luke?”
“Fine,” he said as he turned and began to walk down the hall toward his bedroom. Obviously, having an adult visitor wasn’t of interest to him.
“Get dressed, Luke, and clean your room,” I called after him, but he didn’t respond. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Peter? I was just getting ready to pour myself another cup.”
“Sure, I’d love that. When did you get to town?” he asked as he followed me back to the kitchen.
“Um, three days ago.”
“Did you come back for the holidays?” he asked as he shrugged out of his coat, and I studied him for a moment. Peter had always been an attractive man with his sandy blond hair and bright-blue eyes. Now he was even more so, with a short, neatly trimmed beard. I’d often thought as a teenager that if things didn’t work with Jeremy, I might have tested the waters with him. I frowned and turned away.
As I poured coffee, I tried to remember what he had asked me. “I guess you could say that.” He waited until I brought our cups to the table before taking a seat. “What do you want in your coffee?”
“Cream if you have it.”
I collected the cream container and returned to the table. “So, how are you? Married?” My eyes cut to his left hand, which did not hold a ring. “A half dozen kids? Or are you still a stud muffin and have several ladies to call on?”
He laughed as he set the creamer down and stirred it with the spoon that I gave him before I took my seat. “I’m fine. Divorced, no kids, and far from a stud muffin these days. Is Jeremy here with you?” He grinned at me as he asked, and something pinched in my chest. Peter didn’t know.
“No, Jeremy isn’t here, Peter. Jeremy died almost a year ago, a week after Christmas.”
Peter looked shocked as he stared back at me, his coffee mug halfway to his lips. He lowered it. “Holy shit, Faith. I had no idea. What happened?”
“He had a brain tumor. He went very quickly; it was aggressive.”
He laid his hand over my wrist and squeezed. “I’m so sorry, Faith. I had spoken to him a few times over the years, but not often. I think the last time we spoke, Luke was two or three.”
“Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. When it happened, I was dealing with a lot and didn’t reach out to some of the people that I should have.”
“That’s okay; I get that. Are you back here visiting your mother?”
I sighed, and my shoulders dropped. “My mother passed the day after Thanksgiving. I came back to figure out what to do and finish settling her estate.”
His eyes closed, and he lowered his head momentarily. “Damn, Faith. I am so sorry. I don’t know why I hadn’t heard about your mom.”
“It’s okay. She had a stroke, was in the hospital for a few days, then a nursing home where she suffered another one and passed.”
His hand was still on my wrist, and his thumb brushed over the skin. It had been a long time since I let someone comfort me, and it felt wonderful. In fact, so incredible that tears filled my eyes. I pulled my hand away from his and wiped at my eyes. I couldn’t cry now.
I knew that if I opened my mouth to talk, I would have started spilling everything, and while Peter might have wanted to catch up, I doubted he would want all the dirt and drama of my last few years.
“Hey.” He reached for my hand again. “Faith, how are you holding up?”
I cleared my throat. “I’m fine if I don’t think about it,” I told him before I sipped from my cup.
“I can’t even imagine what you are dealing with. What can I do to help?”
I laughed a little. “Nothing. I’ll be fine; we’ll be fine. I just need to figure out what to do now.”
