“I heard Emmett died.” He cocked his head. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”
She was grateful for the turn in topic, even if it wasn’t her favorite subject. She shrugged. “The house was left to me. I have to clean it out, put it on the market . . .”
“I figured that he would have left it to one of his buddies or something.”
“He probably would have if he’d thought to say so. I guess he didn’t plan on dying yet.” She didn’t want to talk about Emmett anymore. “How are your parents?” Guilt prickled at the thought of them.
A deep bark sounded across the lawn, and Landon turned toward it. “That’s my dog, Max. He’s wondering where I am.”
He looked at her again and picked up the conversation. “My dad is fine. He’s living in New Jersey near his brother. I’m afraid my mom passed away two years after you left.”
The loss must have hit Landon and his dad hard. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “Dad didn’t want to stay on the island, so I bought their place. We’re living there now.”
Sam’s ears hung on
we’re
. Of course he was married. Probably had the appointed 2.5 children. And the dog, of course.
Sam didn’t know why she begrudged him that. No one deserved happiness more than Landon; she was convinced there was not a better man alive. It wasn’t like she regretted her singleness. She’d had opportunities to marry, but she knew the grass wasn’t greener on the other side.
Having Landon and his brood living two doors down depressed her. He’d been the only light of her childhood, and even that was being snuffed out.
“Why don’t you come over to the house? We can catch up.”
She’d have to meet his family sooner or later, but she wasn’t willing tonight.
Caden came tearing around the corner of the house. “Mom, when’s dinner?” She stopped when she saw Landon, looking back and forth between them.
Sam swallowed. “Caden, I’d like you to meet Landon Reed.” She forced her eyes to her old friend, but it was too dark to read his expression. “This is my daughter, Caden.”
Caden smiled. “Hi.” Sam was glad Caden didn’t add that Sam had told her nearly everything there was to know about him. Except that Landon had loved her. She’d never told Caden that.
“Nice to meet you.”
Sam wondered what he was thinking. Caden was small for her age, and he might think she was nine or ten. The thought relieved her.
“I’m
getting hungry.” Even in the dimness, Sam could see the streaks of dirt on her daughter’s legs and the wet strands of hair alongside her face.
“Shower first, okay? I’ll have something ready when you’re done.”
“All right.” She left as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.
“I should go in too. It’s getting late.” A mosquito landed on the back of her arm, and she smacked at it.
Landon took a step backward. “Sure.” He kicked at the grass. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Yep.” She gathered the weeds she’d dropped.
“Good night.” He backed away.
“’Night.”
When he left, Sam let out her breath, and her body sagged onto the stoop. Landon Reed. She could hardly believe he’d been standing in front of her just a moment ago. When she’d left the island, she thought she’d never see him again. That was the plan, really, and yet here she was, back in Nantucket. Two doors down from him, just like old times, before everything became so confusing. Before that last summer.
Sam had been eighteen, and the last days of summer bore down on her with the speed of a monsoon. Landon took her out on his dad’s boat for the day, but by evening an unsettling quiet fell over them.
She reeled in her fishing line and secured the hook on one of the pole’s rings. Landon stared out to sea, his gaze cast in the direction of the mainland. Three more days. Her heart did that funny flop that happened every time she thought about his leaving. She set her pole on the floor of the boat and leaned back against the rail, closing her eyes. The boat rocked gently beneath her.
“I’ll be back for Thanksgiving break. It won’t be that long.”
She’d seen him nearly every day of her life. Three months was a lifetime. Of course, it would pass quickly for him. He’d be having fun, taking classes, meeting new people. New girls.
Sam clenched her jaw until it hurt. Why should she care about that? He was like a brother. Closer than a brother. Something in her refuted the thought, but she resisted the argument.
Something tickled her bare leg, and she opened her eyes. Landon was beside her, his knee propped up on the bench, his elbow poking outward. The wind tousled his hair.
“Who am I kidding?” he said. “I can’t imagine three months without—without seeing you.”
Sam had never seen him so solemn. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and a light coat of stubble covered his jaw. She wanted to draw her fingers across it and feel the coarseness against her hand. She turned away, his words echoing in her head.
She didn’t care if he would miss her. It was his choice to go away to college. He was doing this to them. She knew he had dreams, but Sam had her own too. It wasn’t fair that he got to go away while she had to stay here and work for another year to afford college.
“Sam?”
She covered her frustration, burying it deep where all her other hurts were hidden. “It’ll be fine.” And it would be. She was used to people leaving, just not Landon. She’d come to depend too much on him, and her weakness angered her. “I have other friends, you know. And you’ll make plenty.”
Landon made friends easily, and she resented it now. He was the only teenager she knew who could walk into a room of strangers and not feel the need to attach himself to someone. That confidence attracted others by the boatload.
“It’s not the same, and you know it.”
Why not? Just because her other friends hadn’t taught her how to swim, hadn’t let her beat them at Scrabble a thousand times, hadn’t rescued her when Jared Garrett dumped her in the ball bin in the third grade? Why had she let him in? She shifted, sitting up and putting an inch of distance between them.
“Don’t do that.” His voice rode the wind. The sun was gone now, and the clouds on the horizon had turned twilight blue.
“Do what?”
“Push me away.”
Her gaze bounced off him. “If I were pushing, you’d know it.”
Somehow his arm had settled against the back of the railing, around her. She fought the urge to run to the other side of the boat. He was looking at her, and she could feel his eyes like a burning laser. She wanted to look. She was afraid to look. Her heart rumbled like an engine.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this summer, and there’s something I want to tell you before I go.”
She was supposed to look at him now. She could hear the plea in his voice, but all she wanted to do was put her hand over his mouth and stop the words she was sure he was going to say.
“Sam. I know you’re mad at me for leaving.” He hooked a finger under her chin and turned her head. One look and something in her softened. How could she help it when he looked at her like that?
“I’m only leaving for college. I’ll be back, I promise.”
He’d been there when her dad died. He’d been there when her mom left. Who would be there when Landon left? A cool wind passed over Sam’s skin, chilling her.
“I’ll write. We can talk on the phone too.” But he wouldn’t be there to see the flashlight in the window. She hadn’t thought about that in years, the way he worried about her. Especially after her mom left.
“Sam.” Landon leaned closer until she could feel his breath on her cheek.
She wanted to throw her hands over her ears, because she knew what he was about to say would change everything. And she didn’t want anything to change. Especially not now, when he was leaving. But her muscles refused to move.
His eyes had turned jungle green in the dimness, and a deep furrow separated his brows. “You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I used to pull your ponytail and hunt for worms so we could fish off the pier. I know what you’re thinking before you say it, and I know who you are deep inside, where you’re afraid to let anyone go.”
Sam’s heart kicked into third gear.
“You’re more than my best friend. You’re my soul mate. I’m not sure when it happened.” He looked down, then back up. “But I love you, Sam. Not the way a brother loves a sister, but the way a man loves a woman.”
Her throat clogged up with a big knot, and she sat, unable to move.
“I love the way you brush your hair back from your face, I love the way you don’t care what anybody else thinks, I love your strength and your vulnerability and your brutal honesty.”
He leaned back a bit as if to read her face. She wasn’t sure what he’d find.
Her emotions wrestled on the surface, a dangerous place for them. She loved Landon, there was no doubt about that. At the moment, she was terribly afraid she loved him the same way he loved her. She was even more afraid he’d see it in her eyes. She looked away.
“You’re scaring me,” he said.
“I don’t know what to say.” She whispered the words over the wind. She couldn’t tell him she loved him, even if it were true. She’d never said those words to anyone, except maybe her mom and dad when she was small, but she didn’t remember for sure.
“I guess that says it all.”
Sam felt him withdraw and breathed again. She could hear the pain in his voice, and she hurt for him. She glanced at him in time to see his Adam’s apple bob. Why did he have to go and tell her he loved her? Why change things when he was about to leave? Last year she might have reveled in his admission, but he’d just proven he was like everyone else. All he cared about was his own goals. He didn’t love her any more than her mom had. It made her angry, a feeling she was much more comfortable with.
“Let’s just leave things as they are.” It’s what he should have done to begin with.
“M
iss Biddle.” Sam’s neighbor stood on the porch in a flowing leopard print tunic, black pants, and earrings that dangled halfway to her shoulders. Time had hollowed her cheekbones and aged her parchment skin.
Sam stepped out the door and let the woman embrace her. Miss Biddle’s short jet-black hair spiked out at the nape like the tail feathers of a duck.
“Samantha Owens, just look at you.” Her wrinkled hands held Sam’s as she leaned back for a better look. “My word, you’re a grownup, aren’t you?”
“With all the responsibilities that come with it.” The last time Sam had seen her, Miss Biddle was stuffing a wad of cash in her palm and telling her to take care of herself. “Come in. Meet my daughter,” Sam said loudly, remembering Miss Biddle’s hearing impairment—a residual effect of her days playing guitar in a traveling band.
“Caden, this is Miss Biddle. She lives next door.”
“Hi,” Caden said, curling on the sofa in her pj’s.
“Hi, honey.” Miss Biddle turned, the tails of her tunic swaying. “She has your beautiful hair and your mom’s petite size.” She tsked.
They caught up over a cup of coffee, and Miss Biddle filled Sam in on the details of Emmett’s death, something she could have done without. She told Sam that Emmett sold his car not long ago and had taken to riding his bike again. Sam was beginning to get antsy, when Miss Biddle announced she was late for a luncheon.
After she left, Sam cleaned up the yard, putting the old Adirondack chairs out back until she could paint them, then taking down the rose trellis in preparation to paint the house.
Later that afternoon, she found her old bike in the shed. The dark building was missing a lightbulb and had a broken doorknob—two more things for her to-do list. She repaired her old bike, pumped up the tires on Emmett’s, and rode with Caden to the grocery. Sam had cleaned out the fridge the day before, tossing the spoiled milk and moldy leftover pizza.
After they shopped, she slipped three plastic grocery bags into the bike basket and one around each of the handlebars. “You ready?” she asked Caden.
Her daughter had already hopped onto her old bike and began peddling.
“Stay on the side,” Sam called. She imagined Caden rolling her eyes. They pedaled past Cap’n Tully’s Tavern, and she wished she could pull over and lose herself in a few beers. Being back in her old house was stirring up things she’d rather forget. A few cars dotted the tavern’s parking lot, but later there would be a large Friday night crowd.
After what she’d just spent at the grocery, she had no business throwing away money on beer. They’d have to watch their pennies if they were going to stay long enough to finish the house. She’d hoped Emmett’s bank account would provide her with some fast cash, but a few calls proved him to be broke as he’d always been.
“Turn here!” Sam hollered loud enough to be heard over the wind rushing in their ears.
“I know, Mom.” Caden tossed the words over her shoulder, and Sam ignored her snippy tone. They didn’t have much time before the Realtor arrived, and she needed to get the groceries put away.
Her legs strained the last couple of miles, and she realized riding a bike involved a different set of muscles than cleaning. When they got back to the cottage, Caden helped put away the groceries, and as Sam shoved the last can of soup into the cabinet, a knock sounded on the door.