There was a strange car parked behind hers when Margo arrived at the cottage two hours later, her heart heavy, her tread a little slower than usual. She stopped, wondering if the landlord had stopped by, or another real estate agent from the office, needing more paperwork signed.
But then she saw him, sitting on the front stoop, in jeans and a dress shirt, looking every damn bit as remorseful as he should.
Every damn bit as guilty as he was.
“Ash.”
She forced herself forward, even though her heart was pounding. From anger, from hurt, she didn’t know anymore.
“How’d you find me?” she asked, stopping a good four feet from where he stood. And why’d it take so long? She grew angry at the thought.
“It wasn’t hard to figure out you’d be back in Oyster Bay,” he replied. “I stopped for a coffee in town and ran into some woman named Dottie. She told me where you were staying.” He paused, then jutted his chin to the door. “Can we talk?”
Margo blew out a breath and nodded. It was inevitable. The conversation needed to be had and today, she was ready to have it.
He stood, but she sidestepped him toward the door, her hands shaking as she pushed the key into the hole and turned it. If he had any comments about why she was staying here and not at the house, he didn’t ask. Perhaps Dottie had already filled him in on that too.
Margo hung up her coat, noticing that Ash, being unprepared for the weather, wasn’t wearing one. She knew she could ask him to sit down, offer him a glass of water or some food, but she wasn’t in the mood to make this easy for him, and besides, he wasn’t her guest. She hadn’t invited him here, and, she realized, she didn’t want him here. This was her world. Her town. Her family. Her friends. Her past.
Her life.
“So I guess you know…” He combed a hand through his hair, looking at her sheepishly.
Margo waited a beat. “Know what exactly? About you and your grad student?”
“It’s not what you think,” Ash said, but he stopped when he saw the sharp look she gave him.
“Not what I think?” Had he rehearsed this line from some bad movie? “I don’t see what else it could be, Ash, but if you have an explanation, I’m all ears.”
“She…she likes me, Margo.”
She nodded, her lids drooping. She wasn’t buying it.
“And I’m not going to lie, it felt good to be…wanted.”
She scowled at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know damn straight what it means. You and I—we were never like that. Maybe at first, but then…”
Margo swallowed the lump that was building in her throat. She knew what he meant. She’d known it herself. The only difference was that maybe she hadn’t seen it as soon as he did. Instead, she had fooled herself into thinking everything was fine.
“That doesn’t mean I can just forgive you for cheating on me. You lied to me.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” Ash’s face was lined, his eyes had a sad look to them, and Margo couldn’t overlook the fact that he hadn’t corrected her. That it was true. He had lied to her. Cheated on her.
“Why are you here?” she asked wearily. She wanted nothing more than to sit down. To drop onto the soft, slipcovered sofa and close her eyes. She suddenly felt exhausted. Like she could sleep straight through until morning.
Then it occurred to her that he might be here to ask for a divorce. She waited, her pulse quickening, the finality of everything closing in on her.
“Because I wanted to see you. Because I knew when I came home that day and you were gone that you’d seen…that you knew.” He looked at her pleadingly. “Because I missed you.”
Margo felt as if she’d been slapped. She took a step back, staring at this man, trying to figure out who he was and if she’d ever even known him at all. “You missed me?”
“I know you probably won’t believe this now, but…I really missed you, Margo.”
She shook her head. “No. No, what you missed was our life. Our routine.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”
“A lot is wrong with that, as you were so quick to point out,” she reminded him. “That comfortable domestic life you miss so much isn’t enough for you.”
And it wasn’t enough for her either, she thought. Not anymore. Even if he hadn’t cheated, the thought of going back to the life now made Margo feel empty, instead of comforted.
“But it’s something,” Ash said. “Something to build on.”
“Build on?” She managed not to laugh.“You cheated on me, Ash.” A part of her wanted to ask the hard questions, to know if it was the first time, to know if it was only one girl. But then the other half of her knew that it didn’t even matter. It didn’t change what he had done. It didn’t change the way he felt.
Or the way she felt. Her marriage was over. She’d known it when she came to Oyster Bay and she knew it even more now.
“I want to try again. I want to try to make this work.” His voice was firm, certain, even. But it wasn’t convincing. “Ten years. It can’t all be for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing,” Margo realized. And it hadn’t been. There had been good times, moments of laughter and friendship and fondness, even love. Those years couldn’t be erased any more than they could ever happen again.
The doorbell rang, and Margo frowned, wondering who was dropping by unannounced. Few people even knew where she was staying. If it was Bridget, Ash had better run, she thought, not bothering to warn him. She opened the door, her eyes widening when she saw Eddie on the stoop, his hands thrust into the pocket of his jeans, his grin wide and excited.
“Hey.”
She swallowed. Her heart was pounding now. “Eddie.”
The smile on his face fell when he looked over her shoulder. She didn’t need to turn to know what he saw.
“I didn’t realize I was interrupting,” he said tightly.
“It’s not what you think,” she started to say, but right at that moment, Ash stepped forward and extended his hand.
“Ashley Reynolds,” he said.
Eddie’s gaze almost imperceptibly flitted to hers.
“Margo’s husband,” Ash added.
“Eddie Boyd. Old friend.” His eyes were stony now.
Old friend. Not friend. The distinction was clear.
“Eddie,” Margo protested, but his jaw was set.
“I was just stopping by to bring you this.” He handed her a well-worn paperback. She didn’t need to look at the cover to know the title. It was The Catcher in the Rye. He’d kept it, all these years, just as he’d said.
Her chest sagged.“Eddie.”
He didn’t meet her eye. “I’ll see you, Margo.” He turned, walked toward his car, not stopping or looking back. Margo watched him go, her heart hurting.
“Was that Eddie from juvie?” Ash asked, incredulous.
Margo was surprised that Ash would remember this bit of her past, but she refused to be touched by it. Ash may know her, but he certainly didn’t understand her. Or care about her. Not really.
“That was a long time ago,” Margo said defensively.
Ash’s gaze was stony. “People don’t change, Margo.”
“You have,” she said lightly. “Or maybe you were never the person I thought you were. Maybe I wanted you to be something you weren’t.”
The truth in that statement hit her hard.
“Don’t do this, Margo.” He stepped forward, taking her hand, and she let him, knowing it would be for the last time. “Let’s try again. Let me try again. Please, Margo. Come home.”
She held his hand, holding onto her past for one last moment, before letting it go. “I am home.”
***
The old Eddie would have gone straight from Margo’s to Dunley’s for a beer, which would have turned into two, and then three. And then…nothing good ever happened then.
Eddie drove through town, past Dunley’s and The Lantern. His shift didn’t start for three hours, but the clock was ticking for a decision to Mick. He had half a mind to call him right now and tell him yes, he accepted, he’d go back to Philly, to a job that would challenge him, excite him, make him feel like he was making a difference. Like he had a purpose. After all, what argument could he really make for staying here in Oyster Bay? He’d left this town half a lifetime ago, and it had moved on. And so had he.
He kept driving, going nowhere in particular, wanting to keep going, all the way to Philly, and to not stop until he got there. But he’d done that before. Run from his problems. Made a pattern of it, really. A pattern he was determined to break.
Just before the road turned ahead was the entrance to Serenity Hills. Eddie eased off the gas, feeling his back teeth graze as they did every time he saw that sign. He drove past the entrance, followed the road’s winding path instead, but every minute that passed made his chest feel heavier.
He couldn’t escape it. No matter how hard he tried.
He could blame his dad for ruining his life. Or he could blame himself.
At the next road he turned back, toward town, toward Serenity Hills. This time he pulled into the parking lot, got out of the car before he second-guessed himself, and went inside. The woman at the front desk barely looked up from her magazine when he signed himself in and walked down the hall, knowing there was no risk of running into Margo today.
His father’s room was at the end of the hall, and the door was open, just like it always was. He hovered in the frame, looking at the frail man asleep in the bed. A man who used to seem so big and boorish, reduced now to skin and bones.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw and stepped inside. He hadn’t looked around this room, not properly, at least. Usually when he came to visit Ray, it was for a brief stop, and he kept his eyes on the television, or out into the hallway. But today he took the chair next to the bed and stared at his father’s face, straight on.
Ray’s sleep was sound, he didn’t stir, and Eddie studied his features. The nose they shared. The chin, too. Not much else, he thought grimly. Maybe just a handful of bad memories. But they were still memories. Someday soon that’s all he’d have.
He didn’t remember his mother—she’d left before those impressions could cement. But he’d seen her picture, buried deep in his father’s bedside drawer, and he knew he looked like her. He never asked about her, he knew better, and the one and only time he did, Ray had made it clear he didn’t know her whereabouts and wasn’t going to share. They were never married. Ray wouldn’t even tell Eddie her full name.
For years he wondered if this was why his father so often looked at him with contempt. Was he angry for being dumped with a kid? Or was he angry that his kid looked like her, a woman whose photo he still kept, all those years later.
“Eddie? Eddie Boyd?”
Eddie startled and turned to see Mrs. Harper, Margo’s grandmother, sitting in her wheelchair, a large cat resting comfortably on her lap.
“Mrs. Harper.” He went to stand, but she swatted her hand.
“I thought that was you. Did you come with my granddaughter?”
Eddie’s mouth thinned. “No. I came alone.”
“Ah, well, maybe one of them will visit later. It’s hard, you know. Being here. Waiting. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m waiting for anymore.” Her eyes seemed to cloud. “You’re all he talks about, you know.”
Eddie frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Ray.” Mimi pointed at his father as if to erase any confusion. “I stop in here now and again if Pudgie runs off.” She stroked the animal fondly. “He loves visiting the residents, you know. Most people claim he’s a little sunshine in their day.”
Eddie grinned at the cat and went to pet it, but it hissed so loudly at him that he jumped back.
Mimi grinned. “He’s very protective of me.”
“I can see that,” Eddie remarked, waiting for his pulse to resume normal speed.
“Pudgie’s fond of your father. Runs here a few times a week. So Ray and I got to talking once about how you used to date my granddaughter before she married that woman.”
Eddie opened his mouth to correct her, until he saw the gleam in her eye.
“You know I’m just messing with her,” Mimi said with a grin. “It gets boring in here. You’ve got to get your jollies somewhere. But don’t go telling her I said that.”
“I won’t.” Eddie pulled in a breath. He might not be telling Margo anything ever again. The thought of it saddened him, even though he had no rights to her. He’d let her go. Made his choice. A long, long time ago.
“Ray here boasts nonstop about you. His son, the cop. Asks me to tell him stories about you and Margo.”
Eddie stared at Mrs. Harper in disbelief. “My father?”
“Of course your father! He looks forward to your visits, too. Gets a little nervous, even. Always careful to make a good impression. He’ll be sorry he missed you today.”
Ray let out a soft snore, and Eddie shook his head. “I didn’t…I didn’t realize.”
“I don’t know the man very well, but it’s clear that he’s made his share of mistakes. It takes a lot of courage to own up to that and try and make things right.”
Eddie nodded. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He’d been too busy holding onto anger and resentment. Things that could only ever hold you back, not move you forward.
“Thank you, Mrs. Harper. I appreciate you telling me that.”
“I’ll let Ray know you came by,” Mimi said, as she wheeled herself out of the room.
“No,” Eddie said, before he could even realize what he was saying. “I’ll stay until he wakes up. I’ll stay.”
He turned to his father, watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, and knew in that moment that he couldn’t leave him again. Even if his father had failed him, even if he’d left him when his son needed him the most, he was here now. The past was in the past. And in the past it would remain.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, taking a deep breath before pulling up Mick’s number.
He could never change the past. But he could sure as hell change the future. Or, at least, try.