“Ali.”
Ali blinked her eyes open when she’d heard her name called. She looked around her room and all she saw was darkness, so she shut her eyes again, then started to drift back off to sleep.
“Ali, wake up.”
She sat straight up in bed. This time the words were louder and stronger.
She recognized that voice. My grandfather.
But her grandfather had been gone for five years, so she had to be dreaming. It had to be the news that her mother told her tonight and the fact she fell asleep crying, thinking that she’d lose all those memories of her grandfather when the farm was sold.
Her mother was right—Ali had her own life now. She’d always wanted to teach and just help out on the farm when she could. She’d never wanted it like her mother did.
Maybe it was because deep down she saw her grandmother die young on the farm, then watched her father leave her mother because he’d said it ate up too much of her mother’s time.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the years started to show on her grandfather faster than they should have. Even on her mother. She didn’t want to follow that path, so she decided to go into teaching—a career that would give her the summers and early nights to help out on the farm, but not make her reliant on it for her sole income.
She lay back down again, only to hear creaking in her room. This time she sat up and turned the light on. “Who’s there?”
Laughter this time, like jolly St. Nick. Just like her grandfather’s. She was losing her mind. Who would have thought grief would cause that?
“You know who it is,” her grandfather said loud and clear.
She turned her head, then saw him standing in the doorway to her closet. What the heck? “You’re not here. I’m dreaming.”
“If it makes you feel better to think that, go right ahead.”
She wanted to get up and try to touch him, see if he was real, but that would be further down the rabbit hole than she was willing to admit she’d fallen.
“You’re not here,” she said again. “I’m dreaming you and now I’m going back to sleep.”
She reached for the light switch and turned it off. She was just falling back to sleep when she heard whispered words close to her ear. “I’ll be back, Ali. I’ll never forget about you and I know you’ll always remember me.”
If she felt what might be a gentle kiss on her head, she wasn’t admitting it to anyone, but she yanked the covers up and created her own cocoon just the same.
The next morning, Ali dragged herself out of bed and downed two cups of coffee before she drove to the farm before seven. Her mother was in the bakery that would be opening in less than ten minutes. Cars were already starting to pull into the parking lot. By eight the orchard would be open for business for apple picking and hayrides, plus pumpkins, blueberries, and raspberries.
She walked in the back door of the bakery to see her mother filling trays of donuts. Warm fresh cinnamon sugar and glazed donuts were sold by the dozen all weekend long. Not to mention pies, tarts, and muffins. The cookies sold too, but this time of year, it was all about the donuts.
“Hi, Mom. Where do you need me?”
Her mother stopped and turned to look at her. “You look like you had a rough night.”
“I’ve had better,” Ali said, not even considering the thought of mentioning that she dreamed about her grandfather last night. She’d dreamed about him often in her life, but never like that. Never that vivid. Never actually feeling like he was in the room, nor did she ever remember him talking to her.
“I’m sorry if my news upset you yesterday,” her mother said, pulling her aside.
“It’s fine. I understand more than you think. It’s just...”
“I know. This is our life. Our world at times. But it can’t always be that way.”
Ali eyes started to water again. “I understand. I just need time, but I’ll be fine. We’ll make the best of these last few months.”
“Good. Put it out of your mind for now. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us. I’ll know more facts next week and we’ll take it one day at a time.”
Ali nodded her head. “I’m going to unlock the front door for you. Do you want me to man the counter for an hour?”
“That’d be great and allow me to get more donuts made. You know the drill, fill in where you see the need today.”
“I will,” she said, knowing this was the first of many last days to come.
***
Liam pulled into the pub right on the lake. He was in need of a beer. As much as he loved his mother, her excitement and planning were almost driving him insane.
He hadn’t even talked to his lawyer yet, but he was already ducking ideas like a nerd trying to protect his family jewels from the bully with a dodgeball in his hand on the playground. What had he gotten himself into?
“Hey, Liam,” Grant said. Grant Decker was the owner of the pub and had been since his father turned it over to him a couple of years ago. Grant was a few years older than him, but Liam had been coming here for years when he didn’t want a solo beer in the house.
“Grant,” he said, nodding. “Give me the stout you’ve got on tap.”
“Coming right up. How’s business going?” Grant asked.
A waitress came over and called out three drinks to Grant, while two other bartenders were filling orders at the other end of the bar. Saturday night was hopping. “Always good. Looks like the same could be said for you.”
“The spring, summer, and fall bring the people out. Come winter it will die down,” Grant said.
“Except for the snowmobilers.”
Lake George was a good-sized tourist town that drew people in during the spring, summer, and fall seasons. Winter, not so much. That was the quiet time.
For Liam, he was busy all year round, but the multiple resort properties he owned were booked up solid eight out of twelve months straight. Even the other four months of colder weather he didn’t have too many open nights, but they didn’t book up as quickly.
“Can I get you a menu or are you good?” Grant asked.
“I’m good for now.”
Grant nodded and moved away. On slower nights or times of the year, he and Grant would chat about business and the town, but not tonight.
He felt a jostle at his arm, almost causing him to spill his beer, when he turned and saw her. The woman who landed on her butt in front of him just yesterday. Talk about making a good decision to come out for a drink tonight.
He’d gone to bed last night after he’d left his mother’s house and wanted to kick himself for not asking this woman her name. He could have sworn she wanted him to—she stood there staring at him long enough—but he’d been in a hurry and she looked flustered, so he’d moved on.
He wouldn’t blow his chance again. “Hello there,” he said to her. “You must like knocking into me.”
She turned her head quickly as if she hadn’t realized she’d bumped into him getting to the bar for a drink. The shock, and then smile on her face was enough to warm him right up and let him know the night might turn out promising.
“Hi,” she said. “I swear you just keep putting yourself in my way rather than me being a total klutz.”
He laughed and shifted over, then stood up. “Have a seat.”
“No, you can stay. I’ll just wait until a chair opens up.” She was on the small side, and he liked that about a woman. Brown hair pulled back away from her face, light brown eyes with a sprinkling of makeup on. Just his style.
“Or, this gentlemen to my right can give up his seat for the lady since he’s waiting for a table that just opened up over there anyway.” The guy looked at Liam and then winked.
“Sure,” the younger man said. “Anything to help a bro out.”
“See how easy that is?” Liam said.
“I think he was afraid of you.”
“Nah. He knows me. I see him in here all the time. Good guy, and he truly did want that table over there. He likes to come in and size me up a lot. It’s a game we play. Men like to mark their territory now and again,” he said, smirking at her. “His girlfriend just walked in anyway.”
He watched as the woman turned to see the man that vacated the seat hugging his girl and then holding a chair out for her. “Thanks then. I’m Ali, by the way.”
He took the hand she was offering and held it rather than shook it. “Liam Sullivan. Do you have a last name, Ali?”
“Rogers. Ali Rogers.”
He held his smile in place even when he knew it was going to drop. He swore Belinda said her daughter’s name was Allison, but he didn’t want to ask if Ali and Allison were the same. Not when things weren’t finalized and Belinda had admitted her daughter might have an issue with the sale of the farm. For now, it was just two adults bumping into each other at a bar.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ali. Can I get you a drink?”
“That would be nice. White wine. I’m not fussy,” she told Grant when he made his way back over. “I’d ask if you come here often, but you pretty much said you did. So now I have to wonder how often.”
He smiled and she laughed. She had a nice laugh, a sexy one. A woman with a sexy laugh was always a treat in his eyes.
“Often enough they know my name, but not so often I’ve got a monthly tab that needs to be squared away.”
“That’s good to know. So what do you do, Liam?”
“I dabble in a lot of things. I guess the easiest description is I’m a contractor who rents and flips properties around the area.” He wouldn’t lie, but he wasn’t going to admit anything else other than the rental properties right now. There was no need for her to know he was a silent owner in multiple businesses in the area too. “How about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a fourth grade teacher in Glens Falls, but I live here in Lake George. I’ve lived here most of my life.”
She didn’t mention anything about the farm, so maybe he was wrong. “Then I’m hurt you didn’t recognize my name.”
She laughed again and then picked up her wine and sipped it, sending him a mischievous glance over the rim of the glass. “I don’t find myself in need of too many contractor services.”
“Fair enough,” he said. He’d like to ask her what type of service she might be interested in, but for the moment, he’d be happy to settle for her number.