“Do you want an old man’s advice?” Pop asked, his hand on her shoulder. She smiled and waited for his answer. “There aren’t a lot of people in this world who fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle, so when you find someone who does, don’t overlook it just because you think life has something else in mind for you. Life is what you make of it. I surely made mine with Anne.” He took in a slow breath. “I miss her so much.”
She could see in his face how much Pop missed Nana, and his loss made her chest ache. Involuntarily, she thought again about the letter. Perhaps things weren’t as perfect as Pop had thought they were. Maybe Nana had been unhappy with her choice… But whatever had been going through Nana’s head, she was perfect in Pop’s eyes.
Seeing Pop and hearing him say how he missed her made Libby feel ashamed. She felt guilty for not going to Nana’s funeral. Pop had a lot of loving family and friends who supported him on that day, she was sure, but she hadn’t been there to support him and that made her feel terrible. She should have been there for Nana, and she should have been there for Pop.
“I understand that at my age, I’m not up on all the new things, and I may seem a bit old-fashioned,” he smiled. “But when it comes to family, I know,” he nodded. “There are two things that don’t change over generations: faith and love. And I know both quite well. So at least consider my advice.”
Libby nodded and smiled warmly at him. Pop had a simpler way of looking at relationships. He knew he had his one person, and that was all. Libby’s life was so different from that. She had so much interfering with her relationships; it was hard to sift out her feelings for anyone because they were clouded by her need to be something in life. But Pop knew—she could tell—that she still felt something for Pete, and it made her self-conscious. Were her feelings for him that obvious? She wondered about Pop’s idea of two people fitting like puzzle pieces. Was it really true? She’d never known two people to be that perfect for each other before. No couple she’d known had ended up with a happy ending—not her parents, not Pete’s parents, not her and Wade. Even Pop, who thought he had a perfect relationship with Nana, may not have. That letter still raised questions in her mind.
She and Pete didn’t fit together like Pop’s puzzle. If they did, they could be happy together no matter what life offered them. But she knew that Pete loved the small-town life he’d chosen, and Libby needed to be somewhere bigger, livelier, where she could be herself and pursue her goals, free from people’s judgment.
She hated the way everyone in White Stone knew all about her. Her mother had told her many times how she’d settled by moving there with Libby’s dad. She’d moved there for love, and then the love was gone, and she was stuck in a place where she didn’t belong. Libby didn’t want that for herself. She wanted to be around people who knew what her day of work was like because they lived it too. She wanted to get back to her real home, where she could live her own life and control her own destiny.
“Here you go,” Pete materialized with a glass of water, his eyes darting between her and Pop. Had he heard their conversation? “I also put out some snacks in case you’re hungry.” Libby took the glass. Looking at him, she could understand how, if her mother had felt for her father the way Libby felt for Pete, she could’ve dropped everything in Las Vegas and moved to the middle of nowhere. But she knew she mustn’t do what her mother had done. She had learned her lesson through Celia Potter’s bitterness and dissatisfaction.
“Good boy,” Hugh said, nodding toward Libby, picking up another few books and placing them on the shelf.
“Do you like it here?” Libby asked Pete out of the blue, looking straight at him without blinking. She knew the answer, but just in case, she wanted to hear his answer. Her heart was beating wildly, her hands clammy. She wanted him to shrug and say it was okay, but she knew he wouldn’t. She knew deep down that he loved where he was.
“Of course,” he said, studying her face. It was as though he were trying to find answers there.
“You wouldn’t ever want to live in a city like New York?”
Pete was quiet for a moment as if he were considering. “Pop, do you mind if I take Libby into the living room so that we can be more comfortable?” Pop shook his head.
Pete led Libby into the living room, offering her a seat on the sofa by one of the large windows. The blue water of the bay filled the bottom two panes of glass. She set her cup of water on a side table and swiveled toward Pete who had sat down closer to her than she’d expected. That wasn’t what took her by surprise, however. What startled her most was the way that he was looking at her. It was as if he were waiting, almost willing her to make sense of her question. He looked slightly irritated, almost angry.