“Hi, honey,” Rose said when she went into the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”
“This is the fastest I’ve ever gotten over a cold. Thank you for sending the soup over with Ryan. Have you ever thought about canning and selling the stuff?”
“Nope. Wouldn’t be the same. I don’t give out the recipe anymore, either, because people always screw it up and then blame my recipe. When you or Nick catch a cold, you call me. I’ll get you some soup.”
From somewhere in the house, Lauren could hear Ryan. She couldn’t make out the words, but his voice was raised and he didn’t sound happy.
“I guess it’s hitting the fan down south,” Rose told her. “The poor boy’s been working on this place a month now and I think his business is starting to suffer. He’ll probably have to go back to only coming up on weekends like he was doing. And once they finish the roof, Dill and Matt won’t be coming up anymore. It’s going to feel empty around here.”
On the outside, Lauren nodded and made an appropriate “oh, that’s too bad” sound, but on the inside, she was reeling.
Logically, she’d known all along Ryan’s stay in Whitford was temporary. It was never intended to be anything but that. But it hadn’t felt that way. Their relationship was becoming comfortable and familiar and he’d made himself a part of her life. He hadn’t called her last night to check on her—he’d come over again and he’d brought supper and stayed to watch some television with her and Nick.
Almost like a family.
But Ryan’s life was in Massachusetts. He had a house she’d never seen. He had friends she’d never met and a business she knew nothing about. She knew he didn’t have a dog, but other than that, his life was a closed book to her.
The Ryan that was here—her Ryan—was just a visitor.
A few minutes later, he walked into the kitchen. His mouth was set in a grim line and the tension in his body didn’t ease when he saw her, though he did give her a quick kiss. “Hi, hon.”
“I hear you’re having troubles.”
“Yeah. Nothing I can’t fix, but I have to head home and deal with it.” Her heart twinged at the word “home.” “If all goes well, I’ll be back by late Friday afternoon or early evening.”
“When are you leaving?”
“In a few minutes. I need to throw my stuff in my bag and then I’ll head out.”
Rose turned to look at him, a half-peeled potato in her hand. “It’s a four-and-a-half-hour drive, Ryan. Can’t you leave in the morning?”
“Not and make a seven-o’clock meeting.”
“I should probably grab Nick and get out of the way,” Lauren said, heading toward the door.
Ryan gave her a funny look, then grabbed her hand and pulled her in for another kiss. “You’re never in the way. And I’m going to go talk to Nick. I want to tell him I’m leaving, but he’s also done with his punishment.”
Lauren felt her eyes widen. When Ryan started wrapping things up, he really went all out. “Okay.”
“Starting Monday, if he wants to keep working, he’ll get paid. I’ve already talked to Josh and there’s plenty of busywork around this place.”
So he wasn’t cutting Nick loose. She nodded and tried to smile. “I think he’d like that.”
“But I’ve gotta make it quick. Rosie, can you—” He turned to the housekeeper, but she was already pulling deli meat and the mayo out of the fridge. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
He went out the back door, bristling with angry energy, and Lauren sank onto one of the kitchen chairs. “That’s a long drive.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“After Josh broke his leg, Ryan was really driving up here on Friday nights and driving home on Sunday?”
“Not every weekend. And whenever he could, he’d take the Friday or Monday off so they could get more done up here.”
That would never work for an extended period of time, though. And how hard would it be on a relationship to only see each other on weekends? It would be especially hard for Ryan and Nick, since Nick spent those days with Dean.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head, girl. Are you borrowing trouble over there?”
Lauren sighed. “Not borrowing it. I already own it, but I guess I chose to ignore it until now.”
Rose set down her knife and crossed her arms. “You got married and had a baby young. You went through a divorce and you’ve been a single mother for eight years. You’ve been keeping a sixteen-year-old boy on a mostly straight path in a town with nothing to offer. And now you’re going to let two hundred and thirty miles kick your ass?”
Wow. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Rose say “ass” before. “It’s not just about the miles. He’s already a part of our lives, but I know nothing about his. I don’t even know what color his house his.”
“It’s beige. Inside and out, everything’s beige because he builds beautiful houses, but can’t decorate worth a damn.”