"Thank you," I breathed, leafing through them slowly. My parents on a date night, dressed up and smiling. Me, asleep in a lawn chair, Pooh beside me.
"Do you remember anything?" Candy asked.
I wanted to. Maybe I would someday, maybe the pictures would trigger something. But for now, there was nothing. "No," I said, looking up at her. "I'm afraid I don't."
But I remembered Candy, holding my hair back when I had the pukes. Showing me how to do long division. Sitting with me during a thunderstorm, not exactly happy that I was terrified, but there nonetheless.
I got up and hugged her and kissed her brittle blond hair. "Thank you," I said again, and my voice was husky.
She patted my hand, then pulled back. "Your father's dating someone about Sean's age," she said, changing the subject.
"Yick," I said. "Wish I could say I was surprised. How about you, Mom? You know I found Gram-Gram a nice widower to date. I could do the same for you."
She snorted. Didn't mention my little slip with the M-word. It wasn't really a slip, after all.
One afternoon in September when I was grinding a freshly roasted batch of Arabica at Blessed Bean, the bell over the door jangled, and I looked up.
Matthew Kent saw me and did a double take.
He had his nieces with him. Jonathan's daughters.
"Hello," he said, approaching the counter.
Lydia was jumping up and down next to him. "I want a cookie! No, cake! No, I want a latte, Uncle Matt!"
"Hello, girls," I said, unsure if they remembered me.
"Hello," said Emily shyly.
"I want a scone!" Lydia said. "Oh, hi, Angie! Hi! Hi! Can I have a scone?"
"It's Ainsley," I said, smiling at her. She had her father's eyes.
"So you're not working at the magazine anymore?" he asked.
"What can I get for you today?" I kept my voice pleasant for the girls' sake.
"Did you ever mention those things I asked you to?"
"We have a fresh batch of Arabica. And some hot chocolate if you girls are interested."
His jaw hardened, just like Jon's did.
"Lyddie, Em," he said, squatting down to their eye level, "wouldn't it be fun to have Mommy and Daddy and me and you all get together? Wouldn't that be great?"
"Yes, yes!" Lydia said, jumping up and down. Emily, who was wiser, just looked at me.
"Rig!" I called. "I'm going on break." I turned back to the girls. "It was really nice to see you both. I hope you like your goodies!"
Then I went into the back room where we washed coffee urns and took a few deep breaths.
What a shitty man to use the girls to get what he wanted. Then again, this was the guy who'd slept with his brother's wife. I shouldn't be surprised.
I stayed there until Matthew left and then got back to work, cheerfully serving coffee and cappuccinos, scones and slices of pumpkin cake. The second my shift was over, I bolted. It was a little chilly outside, and I hugged my denim jacket closer. A cold front had moved through the other day, and all of a sudden, the leaves were bursting into color.
Blessed Bean was two doors down from Matthew Kent's restaurant. There was a bench across the street from both, excellent for spying. Was Matthew working now? Should I go in and say something? I wondered if Jonathan's ex-wife knew her boyfriend was campaigning for a family reunion .
"Hey, Ainsley!" It was Jenny Tate from the wedding dress place, and the lovely Leo, holding hands.
"Hi, cutest couple," I said.
"We're going to Hudson's for a drink," Leo said. "Want to join us?"
"Oh, that's sweet. But no. You guys are good?"
"Jenny's a very lucky woman," Leo said, getting a punch on the arm from his beloved. "How's Kate?"
"She's doing okay, I think." I'd let Kate tell them the details of her life.
"Anytime she wants to call me, she can," Leo said. He had such a sweet smile.
"I'll remind her," I said. "Have a nice night, you two."
This was what I loved about Cambry-on-Hudson. This beautiful little downtown, the hills rising from the noble river, the people who walked around at night, holding hands. Regardless of my history with Eric, and no matter what happened with Jonathan, too, I wanted to stay here. This was my home.
I pulled my phone out of my purse and called Jonathan. "Jonathan Kent," he said, caller ID or no caller ID.
"Yes, I know," I said. "Listen. Can you come meet me? I'm on the park bench across from the Bean."
"Are you all right?" he asked, and I loved that he always checked that first.
"I'm fine," I said, my voice softer. "Come on down."
Ten minutes later, he was walking down the street toward me, wearing a navy blue wool coat and a scarf that made him look very British. He kissed my cheek and sat down. "What is it?" he asked.
"Your brother came into the Bean today," I said. "With the girls."
He was silent as I told him what happened, but his jaw grew harder and harder until I feared for his teeth.
I took his hand, needing to uncurl his fingers in order to hold it. "Look," I said gently. "The thing is, he has a point. The girls are caught in the middle. What if he and your ex get married? Then he's their uncle and their stepfather. He'll show up at school concerts and birthday parties. You're going to have to talk to him someday."
"And say what, exactly?" There was that dragonesque growl that indicated high emotion, I knew by now. He stared straight ahead, and I reached up and turned his face to me.
"Say that you forgive him."
"I don't."
My heart ached. "You can. You will."
"Really. How do you know this?" His eyes were ice-cold, as we were apparently at the kill the messenger part of the conversation.
"Because you're the better man, and you always put your children first."
He looked down, then away. The wind blew, and some red maple leaves drifted down around us.
"You're right," he said. Then he was pulling me across the street, his coat flapping, right past the Blessed Bean and up the stairs of Hudson's.
"Are we, uh-Right now?" I asked.
"Yes." His grip on my hand was nearly painful. We burst into the place. "I'd like to see Matthew Kent, please," he told the maître d', who came into the Bean every afternoon. Eva.
"Oh, hi, Ainsley!" she said. "Um, Matt is in the kitchen. I'm afraid he's really busy. You know, it's Friday night and everything."
"Get him right now, please," Jonathan said in that you're in trouble, young lady voice I knew so well.
"Tell him his brother is here," I added.
Her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, wow. Okay. Hang on." She rushed off.
The restaurant was filled with patrons, even at six o'clock. We were hardly Europeans around here. There were Jenny and Leo at the bar. Jenny gave a little wave. I tried to smile back.
Jonathan squeezed my hand harder. "Deep breaths," I murmured. He didn't answer.
A second later, Matthew came through the restaurant. A few people tried to get his attention, but to his credit, he came right to Jonathan, who dropped my hand and took a step forward, stopping Matthew in his tracks.
"Hey," he said. "Thank you so much for-"
"Don't you ever use my daughters to further your own agenda," Jonathan growled.
"I... Yeah. I'm really sorry about that. It was a bad move." Matt wiped his hands on his chef's jacket. "I regret that. But I was a little desp-"
"I understand you want to say something to me."
The restaurant was growing quiet.
"Um, yeah. Jonathan." Matthew straightened up. "I...I miss you, buddy. I know I fucked up, and there's no excuse, but you're my brother, and I love you. And Laine really cares about you, too, and of course the girls think you walk on water."
"And?"
"I just hoped that maybe we could... I don't know. Put the past behind us. For the girls' sake. And mine. You were a good brother. You didn't deserve what I did."
Jonathan looked at him with that ice-cold stare I knew so well, the one that used to be leveled at me.
"I accept your apology," he said.
"Really?"
"Yes."
Then Jonathan drew back and punched his brother in the mouth. Hard. Matthew fell to the floor, and there was an intake of breath and a few exclamations of Oh, my God! and Holy crap!
Matthew lay there, looking up at his brother, then smiled, a little blood staining his teeth. "Thank you," he said.
"You're welcome." Jonathan turned to me, and only then did some expression seep back into his eyes.
"Well done," I said, and he kissed me, right in front of everyone. Took my hand, and led me out.
"How are your knuckles?" I asked as we walked in the near-dark, the lights of the green making a pinkish glow.
"Sore," he said, then looked at me and smiled. "Thank you, by the way."