CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rhys had spies everywhere. He still hadn’t decided quite how to approach Andie, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant of her movements. Jess, Louisa, Rose, Maisie, and even Denise Hendrix had all become accustomed to his regular check-ins. Minna and Rory were on hand whenever he needed a pep talk. And Mrs. Hodge and Jillian were now his active coconspirators. The important thing, the one fact that gave him hope, above all, was that Andie was still in Concord. She’d extended her stay at Saddle Tree Farm and continued to see Will each day. It was like they were all in suspended animation. They’d reached the point where her officially contracted work with Will had terminated but kept on going regardless.
“She knows she made a mistake,” Jess had confided immediately upon his and Will’s return from their trip. “She’s confused and upset, but she regrets leaving. She told me she loves you and Will so much.”
The relief was immense. He’d fretted and stewed over Andie through each of his back-to-back meetings in Beijing. Fortunately, things had gone well in spite of his inattention, and he’d already handpicked a cluster of people to get the new office off the ground once the lease was signed.
His visit with his parents had only reinforced his urgent need to get Andie back. Their easy, loving relationship inspired him. Decades down the line, he still intended to place a kiss on Andie’s lips each time he left the house—even if it was only to run out to buy a pint of milk. It would be a matter of policy. He would still want to walk down the street holding her hand, even when both their hands were wrinkled and spotted with age.
Jess’s words infused life back into his veins. Andie and Susan had been through an emotional confrontation at her little brother’s grave site, Jess reported, after some secretive calls with Denise. Andie was still raw from all she’d been through, but Jess detected a new certainty in her as well, an undeniable peace and clarity about what was important to her—Rhys and Will.
Rhys’s heart soared. Not just for himself but for the woman he loved. He realized that, for Andie, Will’s disappearance had reopened a wound that had still been only partway toward healing in the aftermath of their visit to Tilly Farm. Andie had wrested control of her worldview and her self-esteem back from her mother, but her confidence was still new and tenuous in those first weeks after the pancake breakfast. He cursed himself for declaring his feelings for her so precipitously. She wasn’t ready—he’d known that. But he’d been so eager he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d wanted to claim her, to cleave her to him forever.
Now, reported Jess, Andie had found solid ground.
What Rhys needed was to pave the way for her return, to show her how loved she was—how essential to his future, and Will’s—and he still hadn’t figured out just how to do it.
It was Mrs. Hodge who found the solution.
“We’ll throw Will a third birthday party nobody will soon forget,” she declared, beaming.
Rhys grinned. The woman was a genius. He scooped her into a hug and spun her with such exuberance that her feet left the floor.
“Oh, my,” she cried, patting her careful iron-gray curls back into place when he deposited her back down. He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek for good measure and stalked off humming to himself.
He had logistics to organize and calls to make.
The invitation arrived care of Saddle Tree Farm, printed on heavy, expensive card stock. Will’s third birthday party. Despite the formality of the presentation, the notice was short. The party would take place that weekend, in only four days’ time.
Andie’s heart pounded in trepidation, but she knew she had to go. She couldn’t miss Will’s birthday. Besides, she owed Rhys an apology. Even if she’d destroyed things with him, she couldn’t leave their relationship the way it was when she’d fled from the house. She owed him and Will so much more than that.
It had been the privilege of her life to know them, to love them, and Rhys needed to hear it. He deserved that acknowledgment from her because it was the truth. And because she was ashamed of the way she’d treated him, rejecting the love she now understood to be the most precious gift she’d ever received. It would hurt beyond reckoning to see them, to come face-to-face with what she’d lost, but she would do it. She would make sure their last memory of each other was worthy of all they’d shared.
She called to give her RSVP to Mrs. Hodge and then drove all over the Boston suburbs, tracking down the perfect present for Will: a selection of rare Thomas trains and accessories that were as yet missing from his collection. She bought a woven basket from a craft store and spent hours lovingly wrapping the gift in a way that displayed the trains to advantage through shiny cellophane. She hand-drew a card and fastened it to the basket with a strand of blue curling ribbon.
As she worked, she thought about Susan. Denise had brokered a phone call between them in the two weeks since their meeting at the cemetery. On the other end of the line, Susan had sounded timid, deferential—a far cry from the woman whose skepticism and constant aspersions had always ravaged Andie’s peace of mind. It was as if the woman’s armored shell had fallen away, exposing a pallid, tentative creature unused to the light and the open air.
Andie knew it would take time to sort through her feelings toward her mother. One day, they might find their way back to some sort of relationship, if Andie could stomach it. After all, there must be something redeemable in her mother if Denise felt the way she did about her. But right now Andie’s focus was elsewhere: on making amends to Rhys and Will.
When the day of the party dawned bright and sunny, she dressed simply but carefully in jeans and a fresh emerald-green blouse. She wanted to push the image of the ungrateful harpy in the torn silver-gray evening dress out of Rhys’s mind. She left her hair loose and wore a pair of silver flip-flops embellished with elephant charms she knew Will would love.
She was ready way too early and paced around the empty farmhouse, her pulse hammering. Maisie and Ed were out running an errand that had something to do with staging the property for its next open house. Soon, this phase of her life would be over. She wandered out into the stable yard to spend a few moments with Shanti before she left, resting her hand on the mare’s glossy black shoulder.
“Wish me luck,” she murmured.
Colorful balloons and ribbons festooned the red-and-white realty sign outside the Griffiths house, mocking Andie as she turned Ernie up the driveway. The house looked like something out of a brochure, its red brick immaculate, its white trim gleaming. More balloons and streamers bedecked the front portico, and colorful swags of bunting hung from the twin Juliet balconies. A bouncy castle sat on the side lawn, next to long tables laden with food and drink. Farther down the hill, a temporary corral housed a pony that looked a lot like Ace.
Andie pulled Ernie up just outside the garage bay, next to a group of other cars, and stepped out tentatively, clutching the cellophane-wrapped basket to her chest. She walked in the direction of the lively crowd that milled around on the lawn.
Scanning the crowd, she stopped stock-still, an aura of unreality descending. Rhys’s Visionaries were there, of course. She spotted Ash and Noah on the lawn, Noah apparently insisting upon teaching his friend to throw a football, while Minna and Rory mingled with Will’s preschool classmates and their parents. But, interspersed through the laughing, chattering group were also a number of strikingly familiar faces.
Surely that wasn’t Jess and Ben over there, admiring the cake, and—wait—Louisa and Rose, with Steve and Eric chasing their kids around the lawn. The woman propped in the picnic chair closest to the drinks table bore a startling resemblance to Maisie, and that looked like Ed hovering nearby. Well, of course, they’re here to provide the pony rides—which they could have mentioned, by the way . . . But that didn’t explain the Tilly family reunion taking place on the lawn. Why are they here?
Andie shook her head to clear it, and that’s when Rhys appeared, emerging from the center of a cluster of party guests. Oh, the gorgeousness. Was it possible that in the weeks since she’d seen him, his charisma had been honed to an even finer point? He strode toward her, bearing Will in his arms, and she trembled at the sight of those two beloved faces, side by side.
“Andie!” Will called. Why was it that his dimples made her want to cry?
“Hi, Will,” she said, clearing her throat. “I can’t believe it. You’re three!”
“Let me take that, dear.” Mrs. Hodge materialized by Andie’s side and dislodged Will’s present from her arms, freeing her to greet Rhys and Will properly. Andie leaned in to ruffle Will’s hair and deposit a kiss on his cheek. Then she backed away, flustered by her proximity to Rhys.
“Andie,” Rhys said, “thanks for coming.” He didn’t look angry at her or disappointed. He looked downright magical. His eyes were soft, his smile warm.
Out of the corner of her eye, Andie saw a handsome woman with short silver hair lift a toddler who looked identical to Rose’s daughter, Lila, into the bouncy castle and then follow her inside. Andie looked around warily and was relieved to see there was no sign of Susan. It was as if someone had waved a magic wand and assembled a living tableau that depicted her world exactly as it should have been, populated by versions of the people who were most important to her—all of them chipper and on their best behavior. I must be hallucinating. Clearly, she needed to head back to the farm to lie down. Maybe she had a migraine coming on.
“Hi, Rhys,” she said faintly. “I feel a bit . . . strange. In fact, I think I just saw Denise Hendrix climb into the bouncy house, and I know that couldn’t be happening.”
“Oh?” He gave a charming, lopsided smile.
“I wanted to give Will his present and . . . see you. But I think I need to go home and lie down.”
“Okay,” Rhys said mildly, apparently seeing nothing odd in her declaration, in spite of the fact that she’d only just arrived. “Will and I will walk you to your car. But, first, I need to get something.”
Okay, then. I guess this is it. He’s letting me walk away. Even the epic hallucination unfolding before her eyes couldn’t distract her from the jab of pain. Rhys was acting like they were nothing more than old friends. Her presence might be a pleasant addition to the soiree, but her departure wouldn’t provoke even the merest ripple of regret. Her heart sank in dismay. Had he already moved so far beyond what had happened between them? Does he really think there’s nothing more for us to say?
Rhys walked over to one of the tables and said a few words to Tom, who was looking festive in a Hawaiian shirt. Tom handed Rhys an emerald-green party-favor bag with silk rope handles, which Rhys carried over to Andie.
“You’ll need this,” he said with eerie good humor. He waved the bag in her direction but didn’t hand it over. “You forgot it when you left.”
“I did?” Andie was mystified. Even though she’d been upset, she’d made sure to pack thoroughly, and she hadn’t noticed that any of her possessions were missing during the last few weeks at Maisie’s house. What could I have left behind? Whatever it was, it was small. An earring, perhaps? With leaden steps, she followed Rhys as he led the way to the car.
“Well, then . . .” She stopped by Ernie’s driver’s door, unsure of what to say next. All the heartfelt apologies she’d rehearsed had been driven from her head by confusion and a growing sense of disappointment.
“I suppose I’d better take that.” She held out her hand for the favor bag, but Rhys moved it out of her reach.
Then he closed one hand around the handle of Ernie’s nearest back door. Wait. What is he doing? If he intended to gallantly open the door for her, then surely it should be the driver’s door. But, no, he looked quite purposeful as he swung the back door open with an embarrassing creak. Then, even more strangely, he leaned in and deposited Will on the backseat and climbed in beside him. He settled into the seat, pulling Will onto his lap.
Ernie’s roof was too low for Rhys’s long proportions, so he stooped as he sat there, framed by the backdrop of torn upholstery and flimsy plastic fixtures. He looked incongruous and utterly silly. What is this?
Andie’s skin prickled with annoyance. If Rhys was going to usher her out of his life so blithely, the least he could do was stop playing games and let her go without rubbing it in. Surely their final parting warranted a little solemnity, a little dignity. But there he was, smiling up at her with the world’s goofiest grin.
“Rhys, what are you—” She stopped as he grasped her hand and pulled her in beside him. The familiar aroma of old vinyl enveloped her as she was jostled up against Rhys’s body.
“I told you. If you’re leaving, then you’ll need to take what’s yours,” he explained, looking way too pleased with himself. He paused for a moment and gazed at her, his eyes alight with warmth and mischief. “I’m just helping you load up the things that belong to you. Me and Will—your family.”
“What?” Bliss broke over her like a starburst as she looked at the two shining faces beside her. She imagined this was what it felt like to be the circus performer who was shot from the cannon. She was soaring, pumped full of the purest exhilaration as her entire future expanded before her. A hopeful future. A future full of boundless joy. To her immense surprise, tears sprang from her eyes and started dripping onto her blouse. She’d had no idea they were quite so close to the surface.
“And you’d better have this,” Rhys added, raising his eyebrows wickedly. He thrust the favor bag at her, the movement causing something to rattle around inside.
Frowning, Andie took it and plunged her right hand into the bag’s narrow opening, feeling around for the elusive object. Finally, she pulled her hand out, with something glinting on the end of her index finger. The most exquisite emerald-cut diamond ring she’d ever seen.
“What?” she cried again.
“Andie.” Rhys shook his head, his eyes playful. “You should know it goes on the other hand. Like this.” He plucked the ring from her finger and reached across to pull her left hand close. The light that flashed from the elegant facets was almost blinding as he slid the diamond onto her ring finger.
His hands were gentle and strong as they closed around hers. He was solid, so solid, his warmth and substance ineffably more precious than the jewel that glittered on her finger. And Will—he was a gift so transcendent she would never stop marveling at her good fortune. There would be challenges; she knew that. Plenty of them. But she and Rhys would tackle them as they’d grown accustomed to doing—one at a time, together.
“Oh, Rhys, I’m so sorry,” Andie sobbed. “I can’t believe I walked out on you like that. I should have known how much it would hurt you . . . after Karina . . . but I was so scared . . .” She continued to blabber. The sudden turn of events seemed to have unleashed an exotic verbal cocktail, in which the words “harpy,” “Beijing,” “Susan,” and “Will” featured prominently.
“It’s okay, Andie. It’s okay,” Rhys laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “I love you.”
“Oh my God, I love you, too,” she announced, like it was a revelation. “So much more than you could ever understand.”
“So you’re in?” He grinned and flicked at the bauble on her left hand.
“Yes, Rhys,” she said with a watery smile, happiness infusing every word. “I’m definitely in. All the way.”
With a satisfied nod, Rhys cranked down the window on his far side, straining and grumbling as the handle stuck. Then he poked his head out and bellowed one word.
“Success!”
A great cheer went up from the crowd on the lawn, and—as if the floodgates had opened—they all came traipsing across the hill, laughing and hooting, bearing champagne bottles and glasses. Rhys and Andie pushed Ernie’s doors open to let in some air as the crowd swirled around them, all color and light. They each accepted a glass of champagne from the boisterous throng, which was led by Tom, who’d added a purple lei to his Hawaiian ensemble, and Mrs. Hodge, who had one orange lei and one pink one draped across her starched bosom. The nanny handed Will a sippy cup filled with apple juice for his part in the festive toast. Noah, Ash, Minna, and Rory, beaming broadly, hovered at the edges of the crowd, refreshing glasses left and right, while Jillian handed around cupcakes.
“I have one more question,” Rhys said, his glass raised. “I was planning to make an offer to Maisie and Ed for Saddle Tree Farm, but I wanted to check with you first.”
“Rhys, now you’re messing with me.”
“Not at all,” he demurred. “I’ve been sneaking over there a lot lately while you’ve been out, to plot with Maisie, and I love the place. It reminds me a little of my parents’ home in Wales.”
Andie looked around in confusion, seeking out Maisie’s face in the crowd. Her friend raised her glass, tears shining in her eyes. Andie’s heart was so full she worried it might constitute a medical emergency.
“Yes, Rhys.” She clinked her glass against his. “A thousand times, yes! Now kiss me before I explode.”
Rhys was only too happy to oblige, and the fizz of champagne on her tongue had nothing on the shock of elation that sparked through her as their lips finally met.