Love Me for Me(74)

Chapter Twenty-Six





Libby marveled at the changes she’d made to the cottage as she tidied the last few things in the bathroom. The For Sale sign was in the yard, and at least four cars had driven slowly by. Things were looking good. Summer’s arrival had brought warmer air and the first of the season’s tourists, making it the perfect time to sell. She secretly hoped that a family would buy it to give Thomas and Matthew more children to play with. Would they all pile onto Pete’s swing like she had done at Catherine’s house so many years ago?

Since her time there was limited, she’d woken early, and decided to take a swim and enjoy the beach while she still could. Grabbing her towel and her beach bag, she padded out of the cottage and down the lawn toward the sand.

She’d eaten her breakfast on the porch, watching the sun in all its orange glory peeking over the edge of the bay little by little until it was suspended in the air. By the time she cleared her breakfast dishes, the purple sky was bright blue, and the orange sun had burned away to a golden color. She stepped onto the sand that was already warm and dropped her things.

The morning wind was blowing very softly, causing the water to seep onto the shore, crawling along it like spilled milk. She put her toes in. The cool of it was a perfect complement to the record high temperatures. Libby waded in a little at a time until she was waist deep, taking care not to get too close to the rocks at the shore. They liked to hide on the bottom, and they were very unpleasant to find with one’s feet. She lay on her back and moved her arms along the surface, the sun warming her face, until she could barely touch. The only sound was the movement of water beneath her body and the wind in her ears.

So much had changed in the short time she’d been there. She kept thinking about it. The town had a way of romanticizing life. But she had to be levelheaded. That’s what her mother always taught her, it was what had gotten her to where she was, and it was what would keep her going. Success came from hard work, and she had spent a whole lot of her life working hard for her future. She had been given a second chance in New York. It would be ridiculous not to take it.

There was definitely something there with Pete as well, an easy relationship. She didn’t have to try with him; she just understood him in a way that she didn’t seem to understand anyone else. They shared the same opinions most of the time, and what made him laugh made her laugh too. Libby worried for Pop and his family—they’d been through so much with Nana’s recent passing and now with Pop’s problems. She would have loved to be able to be there for them. For Pete. In another time, another place, things could have been different for them.

She’d miss Jeanie. Thinking of her made Libby smile as she turned over onto her stomach and pushed herself under the water. She moved her arms and legs in the strokes she’d been taught so many years ago, making her way out into the gray-blue of the bay. Jeanie was someone with whom she’d always had a connection, but it wasn’t until adulthood that she realized how lovely a person Jeanie really was. The way she treated everyone as if she’d known them for years, the way she cared for people, bringing them dinners, stopping by.

She’d miss her mom as well. She thought about how her mother was alone most of the time. She wished that she could fill some of those empty hours for her mother, especially as she aged. She’d have to visit more, have her come to New York more. Libby came up for air, turned back toward the shore, and went under again.

All the people in town she’d been with these past months—Marty, Catherine, Mabel, Esther, Leanne—they all had a place in her life, and she felt as though she were leaving them too. But there was no other way to do it.

She reached the shore—her head still a jumble of emotions, despite her effort to sort everything out—and pulled the towel from her bag, wiping herself dry. She’d said goodbye to everyone at the bonfire except for two people. This time, her mother was taking her to the airport, and she wasn’t going to peek in on Pete through his window. She’d already planned to say a proper goodbye.

The bonfire was still on her mind. They’d danced, roasted hotdogs, talked, and enjoyed themselves until the fire had died down and Charlotte was beginning to get fussy. It was only due to necessity that they’d all packed up. They could have gone on like that all night.

Pete had driven her home, and, sitting in his car, she’d struggled to find the right words before getting out. She wanted to say something to convey how much she thought of his efforts in taking care of Pop, and how glad she was that he’d forgiven her after so many years. She wanted to tell him how much she cared for him and how she never wanted to lose touch again. But instead she’d said only, “Thank you,” because if she tried to say the rest, the tears would come, and she knew she couldn’t go there. Not that night.