Oh, for the love of God. These circular conversations made her dizzy. “Speaking of Alec, I need to go meet with him about the menu.”
“He was always a bit of an odd duck, wasn’t he?” Her mother glanced toward the Morgans’ house.
Nowadays overgrown shrubs blocked the view of their backyard and obscured the path leading through the woods to the tree house. Many fond memories of Hunter, Joe, Alec, and herself lingered back there.
Perhaps Colby should camp out in the old fort, where life had been simple. Where she’d felt secure and certain that people were exactly what they appeared. When she’d been free to give her heart away without fear. A time and place when everything had been easy and anything seemed possible.
“Odd?” No. Alec was shy. Awkward, at times. But interesting and talented.
“Joe was more normal. More fun.” Her mother touched her own cheek and shook her head.
Colby didn’t like exalting one brother over the other. Joe was an extrovert to Alec’s introvert. Joe had been athletic; Alec, intuitive. Both had been her friends.
“What’s normal, anyway?” Surely no one in Colby’s acquaintance fit neatly into that mold. “There’s nothing wrong with Alec. The key is that he’s always been an amazing cook, and that’s all I care about right now.”
Not entirely true, but her mother didn’t need to know that Alec’s return had thrown Colby mildly out of sorts.
“Remember those delicious fruit tarts he used to make? It was fun to be his test audience.” Her mother smiled now, apparently thinking back to the days when Alec would deliver shoe boxes of food he’d prepared. Colby and her mother never met a sweet they didn’t love, including Cherpumple and deep-fried candy bars. “Maybe he’ll make me some, now that he’s working for you.”
Like clockwork, her mother swung the conversation back to herself and her wishes.
“Actually, you’ll get a chance to ask him at the soft opening in about three weeks.” Colby’s stomach pinched as the words left her lips, because that made everything more real. In the beginning, this enterprise had been as wispy as a wish and a prayer. Suddenly it seemed fraught with obligations and responsibilities.
“I suppose your father and Jenna will be there.” Her mother tugged at her shirtsleeve. “And Gentry.”
“They are part of my family.”
“Like I could forget. Jenna and Gentry always make sure I know I’m on the outer circle.” She glanced down at her clothes and then up at Colby. “I’ll need a new dress.”
Colby wouldn’t invest in the preposterous fence, but she would buy her mom something pretty to wear. It would be a nice thing to do, to assuage her mother’s discomfort about seeing the “other” Cabots. “I’ll take you shopping at Pioneer Place on Sunday. Sky’s the limit. A whole new ensemble just for the party.”
Her mother smiled and patted her cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I think I’ll bring a date, too.” She twirled a lock of hair in her finger, as if the gesture alone could transform her into an innocent young girl.
“Who?” The question escaped as more of a demand. Had her mother been seeing someone? It had been more than a year since the last “love” affair.
“I met a man last week at the dog park.”
“You don’t own a dog.”
“He didn’t know that. I pretended I was checking out the park to see if I wanted to bring my dog.”
“Your imaginary dog?”
“I could own a dog. Maybe I’ll get one.” Her mom shrugged with a pout. “It is lonely around here.”
Ignoring the bait, Colby rejoined, “That’s why you have Stitch.”
“He’s a loner.” Her mom flitted her hands in the air. “Like all of you.”
Round and round. Colby smacked her hand to her forehead. “Let’s get back to this man you met.”
“Richard.” An extra twinkle lit her mom’s eyes. “He’s very distinguished and has a poet’s heart.”
An image of a man with long, slicked-back silver hair, a trimmed goatee, and coal-black eyes sprang to life. Did he have a dog, or was he also a poser like her mom? “Really? A poet’s heart?”
“Don’t judge, Colby. He has a very sweet manner and zest for life.” Her mother grasped Colby’s hand and fingered her wedding band. “Come to think of it, maybe you should go to the dog park. There are lots of younger men there.”
“You want me to pretend to have a dog, too? No, thanks. Besides, I’m not interested in all that.” Her throat tightened unexpectedly, almost as if at the idea of romance. Her mom must’ve heard her voice catch, because she released Colby’s ring finger. Her family thought she still wore the platinum band because Mark had been the one true love of her life. She’d once thought he was, too, until he wasn’t. In truth, she wore it because, having failed to save Mark from himself, she owed it to him to keep some part of him alive.
In order to avoid another conversation about Mark and moving on, Colby added, “But please do bring Richard to the party. I’m filled with curiosity now. Should we squeeze in a trip to the pound this week? Are you thinking teacup poodle or golden Lab?”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.”
“Playfully teasing, Mom. There’s a difference.” She smiled and squeezed her mom’s hand. “But honestly, I’ve really got to go.”
Colby turned to go back through the house.
“What about my fence, Colby?” Her mom held her hands out to her sides. “If your father had been more generous, I wouldn’t need to ask for your help. Are you sure you can’t spare a little of the dividends you get from his business so I can build the stone wall? I thought you’d be proud of my new hobby.”
Her father had been generous at the time of the divorce, although Cabot Tea Company had still been in its early years. Her mom had opted for a cash settlement and alimony over stock. Bad decision in hindsight, although no one—not even her dad—had predicted CTC would become one of the largest privately owned tea companies in the country.
“I’m always proud of how you try new things, but I need to conserve my extra income now so one day I can buy Dad out of the restaurant. Otherwise I’ll be answering to Hunter forever.” When her mother frowned, she added, “We’ll go to Home Depot together. But at the moment, you might be wiser to fence in Stitch rather than those vegetables.”
“Where is that wanderer, anyway?”
“I put him on the porch after I almost ran him over.”
“Would you please take him inside? I need to finish up out here, even if the rabbits are going to eat everything before we get a fence installed.” She fluffed the back of her hair again, like some old-fashioned TV housewife.
Miraculously, Colby didn’t roll her eyes or mention the fact that perhaps her mom should’ve constructed the fence prior to planting. “I’ll grab him, then I’m leaving.”
Colby trotted through the house, but Stitch was no longer lazing on the porch. “Stitch?”