Love Me for Me(78)

The taxi pulled up at the restaurant. Libby paid her fare and headed inside.

“So glad you’re here!” Trish came over to her, wearing the most stunning outfit Libby had ever seen her wear—clearly one of her wedding purchases. “How are you?” Trish nearly squealed. She kissed Libby on both cheeks.

“I’m very well!” Libby lied, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head.

“I was worried you were going to fall in love with that cottage and never come back! Weren’t you thinking about staying?”

The comment caused her to make a tiny gasp as she felt her chest tighten to the point where she couldn’t get enough air. She cleared her throat to play it off. It wasn’t the cottage I fell in love with, she thought. She remembered her one-to-one comment to Trish when she’d first gotten to the cottage. She could see the empty house in her mind, the For Sale sign in the front yard. The mental picture was hanging somewhere between reality and a memory, still so fresh that she could close her eyes and smell the salty air. The sun on the horizon, the sand on her feet, the crickets at night…

“You look like you might be considering that cottage,” Trish said.

“You know,” Libby forced a smile, “I absolutely love it there, but New York was calling. I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m so glad. And you did a fantastic job with this brunch! Everything looks gorgeous.”

“Well, it only took a few phone calls. Let’s have a seat so we can chat before everyone arrives.”

Libby and Trish sat down at the table as a waitress poured iced water into their goblets. The sun was streaming through the oversized glass windows at an angle, its rays catching on the dark wood floor. The interior of the place was so different from the little restaurants back home—the columns, wood tables, trendy staff, and glossy decor. She sipped her water and took in a deep breath. Everything she’d wanted for so long was right in front of her now—the new job, being back in New York, the apartment—but she couldn’t see any of it. All she could see was what she’d lost, what she’d never have, and Libby realized that it was more valuable than anything she’d ever worked for.

She thought a lot about her mother. Celia had been both right and wrong, and it had knocked Libby sideways once she realized it. Her mother was right in that Libby could be successful, eventually wealthy, and have opportunities to advance in a big city. Celia knew what it took to have that life, and she’d done an excellent job grooming Libby to do it. But she’d been wrong, too. She’d painted a picture of back home that wasn’t accurate. No one was judging her; they were interested, concerned. More people had gotten to know her there than in all the time she’d lived in New York. They could’ve just passed by like people do in the city, but they hadn’t. They’d asked her questions, made her laugh, brought her into their lives. She already missed them all. Where in the city would people call her by name when she entered a store, or wave at her just for walking by?

“So! Are you bringing a date to the wedding? I gave you a plus one,” Trish said.

In the past, this would have felt like a one-to-one comment, but now, it was just a question to Libby.

“No one yet!” she smiled. She told Trish about how Wade had tried to get back together again, and she told her what she thought about him and his roses.

It didn’t take long before she and Trish were talking like they always had. Trish dished the latest on all the gossip she’d missed, and got Libby caught up on the wedding drama involving two caterers and a sick florist. Little by little the guests arrived, and brunch was served.



* * *



The next morning, Libby sat on the edge of her bed with her phone in her hand. The sound of honking and engines outside did nothing to calm her thoughts today. She’d just gotten an email from the real estate agent. A family with a little boy had put in an offer on the cottage. Perhaps he would find his way over to Thomas and Matthew. What kept coming back to her was that Pop and Nana’s house was gone. It would belong to someone else now. Part of her was nostalgic for all of the memories she’d had there, but another part of her was ready to let it go so another family could enjoy it. She had nothing tying her down anymore. She was free to carry on with her life.

Although he probably knew already, just because word spread so quickly in White Stone, she decided to text Pete and tell him the news. Her fingers tingled as they moved along the screen of her phone. She typed: Morning. Wanted to tell you Pop’s house sold.

Almost instantly, he responded: Sorry you’re homeless when you come for a visit. Good thing you have your mom. How are you?