HANNAH

After saying good goodnight to Abby, I left my in-laws’ house and called Tess on my way home.

“How was it?” she asked by way of greeting.

“Fine.” I smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “It was fine, and I’m not even lying.”

She laughed. “Good.”

“Actually, you know what? It was better than fine. I had the best day I’ve had in months. I felt…happy. I think everyone did.”

“That’s great, Hannah.”

“I won’t say it isn’t hard to deal with the fact that Wes looks exactly like the dead man I’m in love with, and there may have been some covert staring and borderline-inappropriate touching of his hair—”

“What?” She coughed. “You just made me choke on my wine.”

Wincing a little, I tried to explain myself. “I just really loved Drew’s hair. And Wes wears his the same way. I’ve been dying to run my fingers through it. Like a comfort thing, I guess. Finally I just reached out and did it. It was almost involuntary, I swear to God.”

“Did anyone see?”

“No. Only Abby was on the beach with us at that point, and she wasn’t looking.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing. I think he was kind of stunned, but I also think he gets it. He gets me, you know? It’s almost eerie how well he understands my feelings.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so happy for you. You’re even giving me hope. Maybe they aren’t all lying when they say, ‘It gets easier.’”

I laughed sympathetically. “Maybe they aren’t. That’s what it felt like today, anyway.”

“That’s all that matters.”

* * *

“You look pretty today,” Georgia told me at work the next morning. “I mean, you’re pretty every day, but you look especially glowy this morning.”

“Thanks.” I tied an apron around me and began gathering ingredients for spinach, ricotta, and bacon crepes. “Must be the sun I got yesterday. Or maybe the good night’s sleep.”

“A good night’s sleep.” Margot shook her head wistfully as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Beneath her blue eyes were the puffy bags worn by all new moms. “I remember those. Tell me I’ll have one again someday.”

“You will,” I said. “In about eighteen years. The only reason I managed to grab eight straight hours last night was because Abby slept at her grandparents’ house. Most nights she wakes me up at least once for something or other.”

“Did you guys have fun yesterday?” Georgia asked.

“We did. I’m so glad we went.” In fact, all I could think about was getting back there today. I’d brought my beach bag with me to work, figuring I might as well take Wes up on his invitation to hang out at the beach a little this afternoon.

The morning passed quickly since we were so busy, and the crepes were especially popular. Because I thought Wes might like to try them, I made an extra batch up after the last order from the dining room had been filled and put them in a container for him. Just after two, I said goodbye to Georgia and Margot and hurried out the door.

Despite the rain the night before, the weather today was hot and sunny, only a few puffy white clouds in the sky. I opened the sunroof on my Honda, tuned into a satellite radio station playing old standards and sang along as I drove, windows down, breeze rushing through my hair. It was the closest to happy I’d felt in a long time.

Wes answered my knock, smiling broadly when he saw me. “Hey, you. Come on in. How was work?”

“Good. Busy.” I went inside and held out the container. “I brought you something.”

“You did? What?”

“Spinach, ricotta, and bacon crepes. They were really popular today, and I thought you might like them.”

His eyes lit up. “My mouth is watering. Can I taste them?”

I laughed. “Yes! They’re yours. You don’t have to eat them now, but—”

“I’m eating them now.” He’d grabbed them and was already on his way into the kitchen. “This is perfect. I just came up to get something to eat.”

“Where is everybody?” I followed him, glancing around the quiet house.

“They’re all down on the beach. My mom got Abby a little fishing pole and my dad is showing her how to use it.” He took a fork from a drawer, set the container on the marble-topped island, and pried off the top. “Damn, that looks good. Wait, I should warm it up, right?”

“Here, I’ll do it.” I stuck the container in the microwave and nuked it for twenty seconds before setting it in front of him again. “There you go. Bon appetit.”

He dug in, moaning as he chewed the first bite.

I smiled. “You like them?”

“Are you kidding? God, between your cooking and my mother’s, I’m going to gain ten pounds in a month.”

“I doubt that.”

“Have you eaten? Share this with me.” Without waiting for me to answer, he grabbed another fork from the drawer and stuck it in my hand.

Normally I wouldn’t have, but I’d skipped lunch, and I was feeling unusually hungry. “Thanks.”

We ate standing next to each other at the island, and he told me about how much fun he had reading Abby a story, eating the breakfast she helped make this morning (chocolate chip pancakes with bananas), and looking through the old photo albums with her. “She loved the ones of Drew and me from kindergarten. She’s so excited to go.”

I nodded, then shoved the thought aside as I rinsed my fork and put it in the dishwasher. I’d deal with the kindergarten thing eventually, but not today. “I’m just going to throw my suit on,” I said, grabbing my bag and heading for the first floor bathroom, which Lenore called the “powder room.”

“Okay. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, that’s okay. You can go down.”

Since the suit I’d worn yesterday was dirty, I’d brought a different one today. A two-piece. It was still modest by any standards, sort of a retro style with a high-waist bottom and a halter-style top that covered my chest completely. I did a quick assessment in the mirror, turning side to side. I wished I filled out my suit a little better, but I agreed with Georgia that a little sun on my face did wonders. I smoothed my ponytail, noticing the ends were pretty scraggly. I couldn’t even remember my last trip to the salon. Definitely time for a trim. Leaning closer to my reflection, I inspected a couple lines around my eyes I hadn’t noticed before and rubbed my lips together, wishing I’d brought along a lipstick.

What the hell are you doing? Why would you need lipstick at the beach?

As if I’d been caught misbehaving, I straightened up, snapped off the light, and hurried down to the beach. Why did I suddenly care about my appearance? And why did I feel guilty about it? Wouldn’t it be a positive sign if I put a little more effort into looking nice?

Not if it’s because of Wes.

Fuck. Was it? I stopped halfway down the steps. My eyes went first to Abby, who was standing ankle-deep in the water next to Dr. Parks, and then to Wes, who was dragging the canoe toward the lake’s edge. He’d taken his shirt off. My insides tightened, and I touched my stomach.

Just keep looking at him, I reminded myself. The more you do it, the less effect his appearance will have on you.

Except…I kind of liked the effect. How long had it been since I’d felt the long, slow pull of desire? Since I’d considered my body something other than a vessel for my emotions? Since I’d felt like a woman and not simply a widow?

A long fucking time.

And even though it was wrong of me to want to hold on to it for a little longer, given who was inspiring the feeling, I did. God help me, I did.

He looked up and saw me. “Hey, Abby and I were just going to go for a ride. Want to join us?” he called.

“Definitely!” I jogged the rest of the way down the steps. “Let me just get some sunscreen on.”

Dr. Parks greeted me with a wave. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Doc.”

“Mommy!” Abby came running over and threw her arms around my legs.

“Hi, baby! I missed you! Did you have a good time?” I ruffled her damp hair.

“Yes! Nana and I made pancakes, and Papa is teaching me to fish.”

“Fun!” She went back into the water, and I walked over to where Lenore was sitting under a big red umbrella. “Hi, Lenore.”

“Hello, dear.” Lenore looked at my swimsuit a little too long. “Make sure you put some sunscreen on that tummy. Are you sure you shouldn’t wear a shirt over that suit? I don’t want you to get burned.”

“I’ll be fine.” Pulling a tube of lotion from my bag, I rubbed some SPF 30 all over my face and chest.

“Only 30? Are you going to wear a hat, too? Oh, but then I guess you’ve got that olive complexion.” She clucked her tongue. “I always had to be so careful because I was so fair. Had that peaches n’ cream skin, just like Abby does. Abby,” she called out. “Come over here and let Nana put a little more sunscreen on you! I tried to get her to wear a hat today since she had so much sun yesterday, but she’s got quite a little stubborn streak, doesn’t she? Just like her daddy.”

Abby did have a stubborn streak, but I didn’t particularly feel like agreeing with Lenore on anything at the moment, so I stayed silent. Part of me wanted to put more sunscreen on Abby myself, but I let that go too, focusing instead on spraying my own arms and legs and stomach.

“Here, let me get your back.”

I turned around, and Wes was standing there. “Um. Okay.” Handing him the can, I presented my back to him, hoping my face wasn’t flushed bright red. What the hell? It’s not like he’s going to give you a massage. It’s fucking sunscreen.

Still.

Wes sprayed my upper and lower back, and I’d have sworn you could hear my skin sizzle. “Want to lift up your hair and I’ll get your neck?”

I held my ponytail on top of my head while he sprayed my neck and shoulders.

“I smell cake. Is that your hair or the sunscreen?” He laughed. “Or do I just want dessert?”

My heart was pounding. “My shampoo, maybe?”

He came closer and sniffed my head. “Yeah, that’s it. Smells good.”

Next thing I knew, I felt his fingertips brushing down one shoulder blade. Too quickly to be called a caress, but too slowly to be ruled an accident.

I dropped my arms and turned around, but his expression gave nothing away. He smiled as he handed me back the can of sunscreen. I bent down and stuck it back in my bag, taking an extra moment to process what had just happened.

He touched me. And I liked it.

It made me feel pretty. And admired. And flattered. Things I hadn’t felt in forever. Things I’d never thought I’d feel again.

“If you’re hungry, I’d be happy to make you a plate, Wes.” Lenore finished rubbing lotion onto Abby’s scrunched-up face and recapped the tube. “It will just take a minute.”

“No thanks, Mom.”

“But you didn’t eat lunch yet, did you?”

“Actually, I did. Hannah brought something from the inn. It was delicious.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” Lenore sounded injured.

“Sorry, Mom. I’m a guy. We tend to eat and move on to the next thing. Ready to go, Abby?” he asked.

“Yes! Mommy, will you come too?” Abby’s voice yanked me out of my daze.

“Sure I will.” I stood up. My skin was still tingling from his touch.

“What was it?” Lenore asked.

Wes looked at me. “Uh…”

I smiled at his guilty expression. “Bacon, ricotta, and spinach crepes.”

He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Sorry, couldn’t think. But they were amazing. Thanks for bringing them.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked them.” I began walking toward the canoe before Lenore could say anything else that would dull the pleasant hum beneath my skin.

* * *

Two hours went by, and I didn’t want to leave. Then three. Four.

Lenore and Doc had gone up to the house to get ready for a cocktail party friends of theirs were throwing, so Wes and Abby and I had the beach to ourselves most of the afternoon. We did all the things we’d done yesterday, but it felt more intimate today with only the three of us. We swam and played in the sand and walked along the shore, swinging Abby between us by the arms. This is what it would be like if Drew were here, some part of my brain kept reminding me. This is what we’d have.

It was hard to keep myself from running away with the fantasy, especially with the memory of his fingers on my skin. But other than that one incident, he never touched me again. He talked and laughed and teased me sometimes, but it was nothing that could be construed as flirting. It almost reminded me of when I’d first met him—I’d thought he was so cute and smart and sweet, and I’d hoped he’d ask me out, but when weeks went by and he didn’t so much as ask for my last name, let alone my number, I’d given up. And then Drew came on like a hurricane—just as good-looking, just as smart, but with all the confidence and swagger his brother lacked. Swept me right off my feet.

“Do you remember the day Drew and I met?” I asked. We were sitting next to each other on towels in the sand watching Abby play with her toy fishing rod in shallow water.

Wes laughed a little and glanced at me. “Yeah. I do.”

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. I just…” He draped his arms over his knees. Stared straight ahead. “I think about that day a lot, actually.”

“You do?” That surprised me. “Why?”

He was quiet a minute. “It was an important day, wasn’t it? Lives were changed forever.”

“But we didn’t know that then.”

Another pause. “I think I knew.”

I looked at him, but he kept his eyes on Abby. When he didn’t offer anything further—not that I knew what I wanted him to say, just something—I went on. “I was thinking about that day just now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I hugged my knees to my chest and wiggled my toes in the sand. “I couldn’t believe how different you two were.”

He smiled slightly.

“You were always such a gentleman, and he was so obnoxious. I couldn’t believe some of the things he said.”

“Yeah. But it worked for him.” Wes looked at me. “He got everything he wanted.”

“You think so?”

“I know it.”

Tears blurred my eyes, and my throat tightened. What the hell? I’d been having such a good day, and suddenly my emotions were all over the place. What came out of my mouth next shocked me. “Drew cheated on me.”

Wes froze. “What?”

“Once. When Abby was a baby and things were tough at home. She wasn’t a good eater or sleeper and things were difficult. I wasn’t paying attention to him.” The words gushed out like blood from a wound.

Wes opened and closed his mouth several times, then focused on Abby again, clearly at a loss for words. His hands had closed into fists.

“You don’t have to say anything.” A tear slipped from one eye, and I wiped it from my cheek. “He told me afterward. He felt so bad about it. He cried. I’d never seen him cry before. But I was so hurt and angry. Because he’d promised me, you know? He’d promised me.” I looked at Wes, watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I’ve never told this to anyone before. I don’t even know why I’m telling you now.”

Wes’s lips were pressed together in a thin line, but he still didn’t respond.

“I think it’s that…I forgave him, but I’m still angry about it. And there’s nowhere for that anger to go now. How can I be mad that he cheated on me in the face of what happened? What’s one transgression, for which he was truly, deeply sorry, compared to all the wonderful things he was? He didn’t deserve to die.”

“Of course he didn’t.”

I sniffed, wiping another tear from my cheek. “But what kind of person am I to hold on to anger like that? I couldn’t even bring myself to tell my therapist, because it felt so disloyal to speak ill of him.”

“Fuck, Hannah. You’re human. He hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Wes’s voice was low and hard.

“No, but it was just one mistake. He was so much more than that. You know he was. But no one else does. They might…judge him.”

“Of course I know it. But he wasn’t perfect. And we don’t have to pretend that he was just because we loved him and he’s gone now.”

I took a few deep breaths, letting that sink in. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I guess it’s just one more thing that feels…I don’t know. Unresolved. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

A few minutes passed before he spoke again. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him.”

“It’s not for him. It’s for me.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t resist leaning his way and tipping my head to his shoulder, the way I used to do with Drew. “I’m sorry I just unloaded that on you. It wasn’t fair.”

“It’s okay.” A moment later, he went on. “I’m here for you. I always will be.”

I wished he would put an arm around me, but he didn’t, and I decided I’d imagined his earlier touch. It couldn’t have been Wes. It was something Drew would have done—he was casually affectionate like that—so my mind, knowing how desperately I missed his touch, had played a trick on me.

Just another ghost.

* * *

I had trouble sleeping that night, dreading the sunrise that would officially make it the day before Abby started kindergarten. All I could think of was how Drew would miss it. Just like he’d missed her first day of preschool. Just like he’d missed her first wiggly tooth. Just like he’d miss every conference and concert and school play. Her Prom. Her graduation. Her wedding. It would be me alone through it all, watching her grow up until finally she left me, too. What would I do then? Who would I be? How would I survive when she no longer needed me?

I was bleary-eyed and silent the next morning at work. Georgia would have forced me to talk about it, which probably would have resulted in a meltdown right there in the kitchen, but thankfully, it was Pete working the Labor Day breakfast shift. If he noticed something was off with me, he didn’t mention it.

After work, I tried to combat the feeling of impending doom by taking Abby to the park, helping her pack up all her new school supplies in the pink and purple backpack she’d picked out, and letting her help me make Italian meatloaf for dinner. It was my mother’s recipe, and made me a little lonesome for her. I thought of calling her, but she’d ask me how I was doing, and I didn’t feel like I could answer that question without breaking down.

After dinner, Abby asked if we could walk into town for ice cream.

“Sure,” I said, not particularly eager to start the bedtime routine.

“Let’s call Uncle Wes.”

An alarm bell pinged in my head. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing Wes tonight. “Oh, honey, let’s not bother him.”

“But I told him we’d call him next time we got ice cream,” she wailed. “We have to.”

I thought about pretending to call him and saying he didn’t answer, but felt too guilty. This is not just about you.

He picked up quickly. “Hello?”

Maybe there would be a day when the familiar sound of his voice—so like Drew’s—didn’t throw me, but that day wasn’t today. “Hey, Wes. Abby and I are about to walk into town for some ice cream and wondered if you’d like to come along.” Say no. Say no. Say no.

“I’d love to. Give me ten minutes?”

“Of course.”

We hung up, and I told Abby to use the bathroom. While she did, I went upstairs into my bathroom and dug around in my makeup bag. Dabbed some concealer on the circles under my eyes. But it didn’t do enough to erase the anxiety or exhaustion from my face, so I added a little blush and mascara. Ran a brush through my hair. When I was putting my makeup bag back in the drawer, I noticed a bottle of perfume in there. I took it out and sprayed my throat.

But the scent, Drew’s favorite, was both a painful reminder of happier days and an accusation—why are you putting on perfume for another man?—and a few choked sobs wrenched free from my chest.

Stop it. Get yourself together. You have Abby to think about. And Wes is on his way over. Do you want either one of them to see you like this?

A few deep breaths later, I’d wrested control of myself back from my feelings. The damage to my face wasn’t too terrible, and I repaired the eye makeup best I could, figuring a pair of sunglasses would hide the worst of it.

Abby and I waited for Wes outside, and my heart beat erratically when he pulled up and got out of the car. It kept up its uneven rhythm as we walked into town, and I tried to tame it by keeping my eyes on the sidewalk.

“Everything okay, Hannah?” Wes asked when we were halfway there.

I nodded. If I opened my mouth to speak, I knew I’d cry.

It didn’t help that Abby insisted on being carried on his shoulders again, and he was all too happy to do it. I envied both of them their carefree smiles, the brightness of their faces, the excitement in their voices as they talked about what flavors they’d get. I wanted to feel that way, too. As we walked, I spun my ring around my finger.

When we got to the shop, I said I didn’t want anything, but Wes bought me a cup of pistachio anyway. “You need this,” he said as he handed it to me. “Ice cream makes everything better. It’s a medical fact.”

I managed a smile. “Thanks.”

I ate a few bites on the walk home, but couldn’t taste it.

“Mommy, can I play on the swings for a little bit?” Abby asked as we walked up the driveway. “Uncle Wes said he’d give me an underdog.”

“Five minutes, okay? We have to get you in the tub soon.”

“Okay.” She grabbed his hand and led him around the house into the yard.

I went inside, tossed my ice cream in the sink, and threw away the cup. Through the window, I watched as Wes pushed Abby on the swing, ducking beneath it as he ran forward and she squealed with delight.

My legs wobbled. It was all so perfect—the sunset and the ice cream and the swing and the first school night of the year and my daughter and this man, this beautiful, kind, smart, sweet, sexy, adoring man here making her laugh. Why couldn’t I feel it? Why wasn’t I a part of it?

Make me laugh too, I begged silently. Make me smile. Make me feel things again like you did yesterday. Take this pain away. Take this loneliness. Take this suffering. I’m so tired of being alone.

For a moment, I let myself fantasize—not that Wes was Drew, but that Wes was my husband and Abby’s father. That it was Wes who’d asked me out all those years ago. That it was Wes who’d swept me off my feet, married me, shared my bed every single night.

It was Wes whose hands would undress me later, whose mouth would roam over my bare skin, whose body would move over mine until we were shuddering and clinging and crying out in the dark together—

Together. Together. Together.

My heart began to pound. I could hardly stand still. My hands were trembling. When they came inside and Abby asked if Wes could read her a story after her bath, I hid them behind my back and nodded yes without thinking.

“I have a quick phone call to make,” he said, looking at me a little strangely. “I’ll be out on the porch. Give me a shout when you’re ready.”

Upstairs, I put Abby through the motions of her bedtime routine, unable to think about anything other than the fantasy I’d concocted at the kitchen window.

I knew it was wrong.

But I wanted it. I wanted it so badly.

When Abby had brushed her teeth and I’d combed out her hair, she put on her pajamas and got in bed. “Send Uncle Wes up, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll come in and say goodnight when he’s done.”

“Okay.”

Out on the porch, Wes was just ending his call. “Thanks so much, Brad. I’ll see you tomorrow at six. Yep. Bye.” He tucked his phone in his pocket.

“She’s ready for you.” I stared at his face and imagined my lips moving along the scruff on his jaw, my hands sliding into his hair.

“Thanks. Should I just go up?”

“Sure. Her room is on the left at the top of the stairs.”

“Okay. You alright?” Two lines appeared between his brows.

“Fine.”

He didn’t believe me, I could tell, but he went up the stairs, and I went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. While it steeped, I sat at the table, my leg jittering nervously. Stop it. Just stop it. Sex with your brother-in-law is not a good cure for loneliness.

No matter how hot he was. Or how sweet to your daughter. Or how well he understood you.

Or how badly you suddenly wanted it.

Good God, was I losing my mind?

I sipped my tea and stared at my hands on the cup. Listened to the tick of the clock. Prayed he’d leave quickly once he came down.

About five minutes later, I heard his feet on the stairs. I bolted up from my chair, setting the cup down so hard, tea spilled onto the table. I left it.

We met on the landing, nearly bumping chests. He stepped aside. “She’s all yours.”

“Okay. Thanks for reading to her.” Say goodnight, Hannah. But I said nothing, just hurried up the steps to Abby’s room.

I sat on her bed and switched off her lamp. “How was the story?”

“Good.” She hugged her elephant.

“Want to ask me a question?”

“I already asked Uncle Wes a question.”

“What did you ask him?”

“If he could walk to school with us tomorrow.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he wasn’t sure he could. He’s going to see.”

“Okay.”

“Sing me a song. The one about the trembling trees.”

I sang to her, and she was asleep by the time I finished. I kissed her forehead and left her room, wondering if Wes was waiting for me downstairs or not. I hoped he wasn’t.

Liar.

I walked down the steps slowly, my hand on the bannister. When I reached the bottom, I glanced out the screen door. His car was still there, and he wasn’t in the living room. Taking a deep breath, I walked down the hall into the kitchen.

He was leaning back against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I twisted my ring.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed a little upset earlier.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine?” One brow cocked up. It was fucking sexy and adorable. “I’m on to you, pal.”

“I don’t know what to say. I guess I’m just…not feeling like myself tonight.”

“What are you feeling?” he asked quietly.

“Like I wish things were different right now.” I shrugged helplessly, giving in to it. “For us. Do you ever wish that things were different?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “All the fucking time.”

It was all I needed to hear. I threw myself at him, crushing my lips to his and wrapping my arms around his neck. He embraced me immediately, his arms warm and strong around my back, his mouth slanting over mine. He tasted like chocolate and desire. Yes, I thought. Yes, yes, yes. This is the answer.

I reached for his belt.