Tomorrow, sadly, was just another day.
It wasn’t that she had a bad life; she did quite well, actually. She had her own business – a small flower shop in town that she loved. A nice house, no mortgage, and a dependable car. And an entire town of people who knew her, knew what she’d been through, and went out of their way to be nice to her.
Tommy was one of them. He was kind to Mary even now, but she knew that when he looked at her it brought back some of the grief. Cam had been his nephew, and Tommy, like so many others, had taken his illness and death hard. That was one of the many reasons she preferred to stay out of the way, out of their direct line of sight, especially during what was supposed to be a time of celebration.
Five years. It had been five years ago to the day that Cam’s ravaged body had finally succumbed to the horrendous disease. As sad as it had been, it had been a relief, too, for he had battled a long five years before that.
They’d only had a few weeks to enjoy being newlyweds before the awful discovery was made, and even that time had been shadowed by the warning signs – Cam’s sudden and unpredictable weak spells and his constant fatigue. Most of their honeymoon had been spent in the hotel (and not in the usual way) because Cam had thought he’d come down with some kind of flu.
She sighed, hating herself for the wave of resentment she invariably felt when she allowed herself to think upon it too much. Why? was a question that had no answer, the same one millions of people looked heavenward and asked every day.
Not one to wallow, she only allowed herself to take a dip in the self-pity once a year on the anniversary of his death. The feeling was accompanied by guilt, then immediately followed with shame. It wasn’t as if Cam wanted to get sick. He didn’t go out looking for cancer. He did everything right – he ate reasonably well, took care of his body, led an active and healthy lifestyle.
It made no sense. It was grossly unfair. Nevertheless, it was.
And while everyone around her smiled and laughed and danced, Mary silently hoped they were savoring every moment.
Chapter Two
“Excuse me. May I join you?” Mary looked up at the stranger and blinked. He was on the tall side, a few inches over six feet, perhaps. Lean and muscular. Hair a perfect blend of gold and bronze, with golden brown eyes that looked almost as lost as she felt.
Before she could answer, Tommy appeared behind him. “This table’s reserved.”
The man glanced almost lazily at Tommy, then back at Mary and shrugged. He turned to go when Mary blurted out, “No, Tommy, it’s okay.”
“But Mary - ”
“It’s okay, Tommy. Really.” Tom looked like he wanted to argue, so she affectionately added, “Go on, then. You’ve got a full bar tonight.”
Reluctantly, Tommy turned and returned to his post behind the bar, but his frequent glances let her know that he’d be watching. It was as comforting as it was smothering. Most everyone in his tavern was a local, and they all knew to give Mary her space.
She turned back to the handsome stranger with the hypnotizing eyes. Definitely not a local.
“Please, sit.”
He flashed her a grateful smile and slid into the booth across from her. “Can I buy you another of whatever you’re having?”
“No, thanks. One’s my limit.”
He frowned. “Why? It’s still New Year’s Eve, isn’t it?”
She gave him a patient smile. “Yes, and one of my resolutions is to drive home without wrapping myself around a pole.”
“That’s a good one,” he said with a crooked grin. “You know what mine is?”
Mary shook her head.
He looked thoughtful for several moments before saying, “Me, neither. Maybe you could help me come up with a few.”
Mary didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.
“I’m Aidan. What’s your name?”
“Mary.”
“Mary.” He said the name slowly, rolling it around on his tongue, as if he’d never heard it before. As if it wasn’t the most common, vanilla name ever. “Why are you sitting here alone on New Year’s Eve, Mary?”
“Why are you?” she countered, unwilling to reveal the sad truth to a stranger who was obviously here to have a good time.
“I’m not alone,” he said with another crooked grin. “I’m with you.”
Despite herself, Mary smiled. He really was a handsome man, and it had been so very long since anyone had openly flirted with her. Everyone here knew her, remembered Cam. As friendly as they were, though, they kept their distance, out of respect, or grief, or any other number of excuses. She didn’t blame them. She sometimes wished she could avoid herself, too. But like her dad used to say, Make sure you can live with yourself, Mare-bear, because everywhere you turn, there you are.