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They both shake their heads, and I turn toward the door, wishing there were something I could get them that would ensure their happy ending.
“Hope.” I pivot, and Mr.Matthews bounds up from his seat. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job. And my pleasure.”
His mouth tilts up in a warm smile. “That’s actually not what I wanted to say thank you for. I mean it is, but also for what you said that day.”
My mind tries to flip back to the afternoon, but so much has happened in the interim that the only clear memory I have of him is of a small dog poking its snout out of its hiding place.
Seeming to realize that, he prompts, “I asked you how I’d do any of this without her, and you told me ‘you just do. You live. One day and then the next.’ Everyone else told me to ‘be positive’ or promised it would all work out.”
“Oh.” Guilt washes in along with the memory of that long-ago conversation. “I’m sorry. I should have been more encouraging.”
“No, no,” he says quickly. “You shouldn’t have been. I can’t tell you how much your honesty meant to me. I didn’t need positivity. I needed to face what I was afraid of. And I did—with your words. They helpedmore than Maeve’s teas.” He winks, and I shouldn’t be surprised that he found himself at Maeve’s too.
“You’re welcome,” I say, feeling pressure build behind my eyes. “The doctor will be in soon, but let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”
He nods. “Oh, I almost forgot. When I went back to see Maeve, she gave me a message for you.” He glances back at his wife, who smiles encouragingly. “She said to remind you that doling out advice is the easy part, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
My eyes fill, and a laugh escapes my throat. “Thank you for telling me that.”
“You understand?”
“Yeah. It’s a bit of unfortunate wordplay, that’s all.”
“I can’t believe you’re really leaving.” Logan stands at the entrance to our kitchen with an award-winning pout on his face. “I already have a new queen-size bed in your room in the new house.”
I blow out a breath. “I can’t keep living with you and Tanya, going through the motions. It’s time to leap or drown.”
He quirks up an eyebrow. “I think you mixed your metaphors there. Sink or swim?”
I laugh. “Yeah, one of those.”
“You’re just mad that you’ll have to referee your own decorating fights now,” I tease as I wrap my favorite mug in bubble wrap and place it into a box containing the few kitchen things that were mine. The dishes from the house I shared with Brandon are already sitting in a box waiting to be unpacked in the new place—a sun-drenched apartment about an hour outside Kingsette, with a view of the water and not far from campus.
It’s somehow both a new beginning and an ending. A rebuilding.
He starts to walk away, and something on the hall table catches his attention. “What’s this?”
“A tea recipe from Maeve.”
“For what?”
“She didn’t say, actually.”
“That’s ... completely in character.” He laughs. “Are you going to make the tea?”
I bite my lip. “I haven’t decided yet.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s not in character.”
“I know. I guess a piece of me wants to hold on to her magic a little longer. Once I brew this, there will be none left.”
“I think you’re selling yourself short.”
“What are you talking about?”
An impish smile lifts his lips. “Just a rumor. A little birdie told me you had a knack for gardening and a heart for helping people.”
