Love Me for Me(60)
“Oh! My goodness!” Trish threw her arms around Libby. “That’s fantastic news! When will you be moving?”
“I start in a month. I wasn’t expecting to be back so quickly! I’ll need to find an apartment very soon.”
“Wait! Janice has an apartment she wants to sublet on the Upper East Side.” Trish leaned over to the table beside her. “Sorry to interrupt. Janice, do you still have that one-bedroom you’re trying to rent? Libby needs an apartment.”
“I do!” Janice bent around the other ladies to make eye contact with Libby. “It’s three thousand a month. It’s small but very clean. Hardwoods throughout, new appliances. It’s only for a few months while I’m overseas. Interested?”
She couldn’t believe her luck! A few months would give her time to go apartment shopping and find something permanent. “I’d love to take a look.” Everything was falling into place. It was a sign that this was where she belonged.
“Here,” Janice tapped her phone a few times and passed it to Libby via Trish. “These are the pictures.”
Libby scrolled though them. It was a basic apartment: white walls, small galley-style kitchen, relatively roomy living space for the area. “I’ll take it,” she said, handing Janice her phone. “When can I move in?”
“I’m leaving in two weeks.”
Libby settled back in her chair with a grin as the wait staff served enormous slices of cake to the guests. It had been a life-changing weekend for her. She’d gotten a great job and a new apartment. It didn’t get much better than that. Now, all she had to do was get the cottage ready for sale in the month that she had. With persistence, she knew she could do it, and the good news was that even if it sat on the market a while, with her new salary she could afford her half of the mortgage payments.
Despite all of it, there was something in the back of her mind lurking there, a sadness about leaving it all behind—everything she’d learned about her mother, all the relationships she’d built with the people there, her feelings for Pete, they all held her in place and made part of her feel heartbroken to leave it.
* * *
Once she’d arrived back in White Stone, Libby decided to stop off at Wentworth’s the very next Saturday to get the last of the paint for the living room so she could get started as soon as possible. She wanted to wrap things up as quickly as she could so maybe she could leave in two weeks, get her things moved in, and give herself a little time before she started work. The silver bells tied to the door handle jingled with her entrance and the now familiar man waved from behind the counter. “Hello!” he called out to her. “How’s the house coming?” he asked, coming around to the front of the counter.
“It’s going well,” she smiled. “I’ve moved on to the living room. I need some paint. Can you help me out?” It occurred to her that she’d never asked the man’s name. “I’m Libby Potter, by the way,” she said, holding out her hand in greeting.
“Bruce Coleman. Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand and led the way to the paint aisle. “What color were you looking for today?”
“I thought perhaps a light mossy green or something.”
“I’ve got these.” He pulled three paper paint samples from the wall display and handed them to Libby.
“How about this one?” she said. “It’s really nice. I’ll take a gallon.”
“Good choice. I’ll just mix it up for you.”
As she waited for the paint, she had to look twice before she realized that she was seeing Pop through the shop window. He was walking alone. Libby understood enough about his condition from what she’d seen to know that he would not be walking the streets alone if Pete knew about it. “Do you mind if I step outside for a minute?” she asked Mr. Coleman. “I’ll be right back.” She grabbed the door handle and sent the bells into a ringing frenzy.
“Pop!” she called, jogging up beside him. He stopped and looked at her blankly. “Pop.” She noticed his eyes first. They didn’t look right; they looked confused. “Pop, are you okay?”
Hugh wrung his hands, the dry sound of them like wadding paper. “Oh, hello!” he said.
It was clear that he didn’t know her. His blinking eyes, his unsure smile, it all made her feel unsettled. The man standing in front of her was very far from the man who had taken her to swim practice and played cards with her on the porch of the cottage. That man was gone, and she didn’t know if she could get him back. She felt as though she wanted to mourn him while his body was still there. What an odd feeling, like having her prized possessions stolen right out from under her nose.