For the Longest Time (22 page)

It was strange to realize that after so many years enjoying the safety and familiarity of his life in the Cove that he didn't want more of the same. It was almost as though nothing had changed yesterday with his friends. Except everything had. Cici's touch was the wrong one; her voice wasn't the one he wanted in his ear. She wasn't his anymore. Just an old friend, part of his past.

He wasn't interested in the past. Not when the present looked so fetching with an ornery kitten on her shoulder and had just agreed to see him tonight.

And not when she let him know he'd been standing there staring too long by blushing and prodding him with her toe. “Go. You're supposed to be gone when I do my maniacal laugh because I've just been using you for your veterinary abilities.”

“I'm going,” he laughed. “Except . . . are you saying you only like me because I can play doctor? I think I might be okay with that.”

Sam made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling when she shut the door on him. And so was he as he headed out into the morning, eager to get started so that he could find her again at the end of the day.

Z
oe lived in a cute little saltbox not far from the gallery. It wasn't at all what Sam had pictured. She'd imagined something bigger, something with a little more drama. Instead, it was a simple house painted brick red, with a low, white picket fence and a pair of oak trees shading the front yard on either side of the walk to the front door. There was a small detached garage around back, accessible by a narrow street that mainly functioned as an alley, though there were several tiny one-story homes lining it.

Sam parked out front while Zoe went around back, and they met at the front door. As much as she'd teased Zoe about her “next level” friendship comment, meeting outside of work did feel significant in a way Sam hadn't expected. Here, there were no calls to make, no art to sell, no forms to look over. Here, they were just friends.

It felt . . . nice.

“Excuse anything I forgot to put away,” Zoe said, unlocking the door. “I'm not a slob, but I get busy sometimes and leave things lying around. I'd get all type A about it, but I really don't have the energy or the time.”

Sam thought back to her roommate in New York and
chuckled. “Honestly, it takes a lot to get me to bat an eye. Don't worry.”

“I'll take your word for it.” The door opened. “Come on in.”

Sam stepped in behind Zoe and immediately smiled. It was all so very New England, and because it was Zoe, done impeccably. The floors were wide plank, gleaming dark wood, while the paneled walls were painted the pale yellow of buttercream. To their left was the dining room, with a big, rustic farm table and white colonial chairs, and to the right was a parlor that had been styled as more of a library. One wall had been converted to bookshelves, with a cozy love seat and wingback chair for reading comfortably. Sam followed Zoe farther in, dumping her big, slouchy purse on a parson's bench in the hall at her friend's instruction. The back of the house was one large room, with a country kitchen featuring a big stone fireplace at one end and a living area at the other. The colors were light, the fabrics rich prints, and the wood of the various pieces antiqued.

It was just shy of fussy, and absolutely perfect.

“Pick a spot,” Zoe said. “I made brownies. They're from a mix, so don't get too excited, but they're good.”

“I love your house,” Sam said, settling into a chair at the round kitchen table. “Just saying.”

Zoe turned her head and smiled as she opened one of the cupboards and got out a pair of dessert plates. “Thank you,” she said. “I'm picky about my things. You may or may not have noticed.”

“I noticed.”

She pulled back the foil on a glass pan that sat on her counter, and Sam caught a whiff of chocolate as Zoe started cutting. Her mouth watered.

“Here we go,” Zoe said, placing a big square brownie onto each plate. Napkins appeared from a different cupboard, and then she was sliding the plates onto the table. “Fork?”

“Only if you really insist on manners.”

Zoe laughed. “At this point, I think I'd worry about you if you
did
want a fork, Sam. Go for it. I'm going to put the tea on. Now, I'm not going to force you. But if you haven't tried it, there's nothing like a cup of tea at the end of the day. Helps me relax. I've got a great blend here. Wait until you smell it brewing.”

Sam sighed. “One cup. Mostly because I love drinking out of teacups and I never have any reason to.”

“Success!” Zoe clapped her hands excitedly, then walked back over to fill her teapot and dig her tea ball out of a drawer. When she opened a tall cupboard beside the stove Sam caught a glimpse of a terrifyingly organized collection of tins.

Sam looked around while Zoe busied herself, picking out the pieces of art Zoe had chosen to fill the room. Everything was subtle, no one piece jumping out but everything together drawing her interest. Different from what she would have done, but she enjoyed the way Zoe had pulled things together for the space.

Ten minutes later, they sat at the table together, sipping cups of steaming tea from china cups and working on the pan of brownies. Sam was trying to keep her nose close to the cup without being obvious about it—the steam that curled upward smelled of spice: cinnamon and ginger and a couple of other things she couldn't identify.

Zoe looked smug as she sipped from her own cup. “You like it, don't you?”

Sam took another bite of brownie. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Of course you don't. Just watch it. You're going to face-plant in the cup if you're not careful.” She sighed happily, holding her teacup with both hands, her elbows propped on the table. “In case you were curious about the tea you don't like, it's a rooibos chai. It's colder today, and this always warms me up. Plus it makes the house smell good.” She tapped a finger against the china. “If you went into SereniTea downtown, they could hook you up. Theoretically speaking, of course. I can tell you're completely nauseous.”

“
Hmm
?” Sam asked, eyes heavy-lidded as she took another sip. She would have to hide this tea thing from her mother. She wasn't sure she could deal with Andi's gloating. It might be endless. Maybe if she got a small stash, she could hide it somewhere. . . .

“Exactly,” Zoe said. She watched her for a moment over the edge of her cup, her striking gray eyes curious. “So. Now that I have you alone, Miss Samantha, you really do need to tell me the story of you and this place. People know you but don't really know you. You've got a hot boyfriend whose ex just got back and doesn't seem to want to stay ex. You took off running ten years ago, you live in a huge house that you really need to let me inside, and best of all, you're painting again.”

“I'm still getting it together in that area,” Sam said quickly. “Nothing's done yet.”

Zoe sipped primly, watching her over the rim of her cup. “Lots of almost-done, though. I peeked.”

“
Zoe
.” She wasn't surprised. And Zoe wasn't contrite.

“Lots of amazing, too. A show? You know I have to ask.”

She thought of her paintings hanging on the walls of Two Roads. Then she thought of Cici and Penny. “Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “I'd like to make that happen. I'm just not sure when. I'd stopped for quite a while, so this just feels new right now. I hope it lasts.”

“It will,” Zoe said, and Sam couldn't help but smile over her confidence. “Now. Tell me the story of you and this place. Because I feel like there's a lot to tell.”

Sam wrinkled her nose. “You sure?”

“I made brownies. I'm sure.”

Sam looked around and considered. She had hot tea, brownies, a warm kitchen . . . and most importantly, a sympathetic ear. Whatever she'd expected to find in Harvest Cove, a friend hadn't been on the list. But she'd been wrong about quite a few things.

“Okay,” Sam said after taking a deep breath. “So here's the thing.”

* * *

Three hours, half a tray of brownies, two pots of tea and two glasses of wine later, Sam was flopped on Zoe's couch, laughing as Zoe told another story about her brothers and the trouble they'd gotten into growing up.

“I don't know,” Zoe was saying, shaking her head. “To this day, they will not tell me how they caught that damn possum. I'm just glad it wasn't rabid, considering. They just about had to pull my mother off the ceiling, and I cried for a week.”

“But it bit you!”

“Yes, it did. There were also scratches, and a trip to the doctor just to make sure I wasn't infected with who-knew-what. But I loved Mr. Chompy. It took them forever to convince me that he wasn't just a really ugly cat.”

“Mr. Chompy,” Sam repeated, then lapsed into laughter again.

“They gave him that name,” Zoe said stoically, keeping a straight face and tipping her chin up. “Marcus told me he was named that because he liked to give love nibbles. And that he slept a lot.”

“You really believed that?”

“I was
five
. When you are a five-year-old who wants a pet, and one of your brothers hands you one, you don't ask questions. Until he regained consciousness, Mr. Chompy was a wonderful pet.” Then she started laughing. “I'm still not a hundred percent sure that one was Marcus's idea, but he deserved what he got anyway. He didn't even get in trouble at all half the time. Oldest children are sneaky.”

“Emma isn't,” Sam said. “She was always very in-your-face about whatever she was doing. And no matter what, she always tattled first. It was a point of honor with her.” She thought about it. “I think it still is, actually.”

Zoe huffed out a laugh. “She should meet Marcus. They could run the world together.”

“That or have an epic battle for supremacy,” Sam said. “I don't think Emma would share.” She rolled onto her stomach and crossed her ankles. “I bet they all miss you. You're pretty far away.”

“Oh, they do,” Zoe said. “I miss them, too. But it's not like there are so many jobs in Madison, Georgia. We all left. Marcus went to Charleston, Jeff is in Virginia Beach, the twins were in Atlanta with me, and Theo went all the way to Paris. At least it gives me an excuse to visit and a nice place to stay. Makes up for some of his continuing obnoxiousness. Mama and Daddy are very loud about wanting everyone to move home, but to do what?
They've got a beautiful house in a pretty little town, but in this economy . . .” She trailed off, shrugged. “We were raised to work hard and follow our dreams, so that's what we did. I'm grateful, even though I'm pretty sure they feel like it worked a little too well. I'd like to get them all up here for the holidays, but I'll probably end up flying home again for Christmas, at least. I'm not sure you could pry them out of that house with a crowbar. I keep trying anyway.”

“I hope it works sometime,” said Sam. “I'd love to meet all of them.”

“We are a loud family,” she replied. “So be careful what you wish for.” Then Zoe sighed, stretching out in the wide chair she'd draped herself over. “I'm glad you came over. I haven't had this much fun in I don't know how long. Nice to get a girls' night. Well, afternoon.”

“Same,” Sam agreed. “Unlike next weekend. Which is going to be a failure of epic proportions.”

“That's a winning attitude,” Zoe said. “Maybe some things are better. You haven't seen most of these people in ten years, right?”

Sam arched one brow. “One I punched in the eye for telling me that Jake and Cici were back together, and that I didn't need to worry about getting good-looking guys like him anyway because ugly little freak girls were all lousy lays and guys knew it.”

Zoe winced. “Ouch.”

“Shane hates me for reasons unknown, and Cici is going to be in my face and all over Jake just because I don't think she can help herself. Fitz seemed nice.”

Zoe waited a beat. “That's it? He seemed nice?”

“Yeah. Nothing objectionable. He's cute, has a boat. I don't remember seeing him much. I think he kind of
drifted around the edges of that group. He just ended up staying here, so I guess that's why they brought him into the circle of trust or whatever.”

“Well, that's a positive, right? One non-jerk.”

“You'd have to know how the others were. I'm not optimistic.”

Zoe groaned and threw her head back. “Sam, you have to try and think positive about this! Even if they're still horrible people making bad decisions, they comprise like a handful of this town. If everybody was like that, I would have left immediately.”

“I know,” Sam groaned, rolling onto her back and pressing her hands to her forehead. “God help me, I'm even finding things to like about this place. Not just you and the gallery. Things I'd forgotten, like the Witch Tree, or new things like Beltane Blues. I guess I just worry because these are his people, you know? His friends. His awful, miserable friends. Since forever.”

“You liked one. You'll probably like some of the others,” Zoe pointed out.

“I forgot about Ryan,” Sam said. “Maybe he'll bring Aaron. That would make him likable.”

“Aaron is a handful. Again, be careful what you wish for.” Zoe laughed. “I got the impression they're still dancing around each other, though. I got an earful when he called yesterday.” She shook her head. “You all are making me grateful to be single, honestly. Working with artists is enough drama for me.”

“I'd like to avoid drama,” Sam said. “I just don't think it's possible with these people. The weird thing is, Jake is really sweet and down-to-earth. I don't know what he sees in them.”

“Shared history is a powerful thing,” Zoe said. “It's
not that easy to cut people loose when you live nearby and you've grown up together. I had a couple like that. I know.”

“I thought of that,” Sam said. “That's why I'm giving it a shot. Also because he said please.”

“That word is hard to resist coming from the right mouth,” Zoe agreed. “I'd come with you, but that party has so many wheels I don't know which extra one I'd be.”

“You would?” Sam asked, zeroing in on that part of her statement like a laser beam.

Zoe seemed to realize what she'd said. “Um, no. No, that's not what I meant. . . .”

“You should come,” Sam said. “Moral support. Come on.”

“Sam, I'm not really all that excited about going to a bar in costume and standing around
by myself
for hours.”

“You can hang out with us. The Harvest Cove cool kids. If I have to deal with all of them, they can handle it if I bring a friend. Anyway, didn't you say you wanted an in to Penny's stupid Christmas party? Here's your foot in the door.”

Zoe stared at her, considering. “I really kind of doubt that.”

“You won't know unless you try.”