She nodded again. “We already checked off number one. The beach.”
“That’s not fair. I had no idea we were working on your list. I could have made it more memorable.” He walked outside and pulled the door closed behind them.
“That made it even more fun, and whether we’re working on a list or just having fun, being close to you is always memorable. Besides, I added an eleventh place to the list.” She leaned up and whispered, “The lighthouse.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THE BREWSTER INN was a modest, pleasant-looking inn, located on the corner of a residential and commercial street in the heart of Brewster. Wednesday afternoon, Blue walked through the white picket fence, and he followed a slate path through beautiful gardens toward the front door of the inn. He had no doubt that Lizzie had had her experienced hands on the pretty plantings. He sensed her creative style in the varying heights and variety of flowers and shrubs. Thinking of Lizzie renewed his determination to set things right between her and her father. He’d never met the man, but all night he’d thought about what Lizzie had been handling alone for so long. It was time she got the support she deserved, and if there was a shred of a chance that talking to her father would help, then he’d make the effort.
He knocked on the door, thinking about how this probably wasn’t the best way to get to know his girlfriend’s parents, but so be it. He wasn’t about to watch her suffer for one more second. She wasn’t alone in this endeavor, no matter how her father decided to handle the situation, and he wanted her to know that every step of the way—though Lizzie had no idea he was making this visit.
A slim woman who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, with silky dark hair and the same upturned lips as Lizzie, answered the door. She smiled, and deep dimples appeared in her cheeks.
“Hello,” she said with a curious look in her hazel eyes.
Blue saw Lizzie in twenty years in the woman’s face, heard the same sweet tone in her voice, and his chest tightened knowing that Lizzie’s mother was pitted between her daughter and her husband.
“Hi, Mrs. Barber?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Blue Ryder, Lizzie’s boyfriend. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time. Actually, I was hoping to speak with both you and your husband.”
“Lizzie’s boyfriend?” Her smile widened as she stepped toward the porch and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
It didn’t surprise Blue that Lizzie hadn’t mentioned their relationship, given what was going on between her and her father and her parents’ conservative nature. But that didn’t mean the omission didn’t sting. That fueled a different type of fire in Blue, who came from a more open and accepting family. He wished that no matter what was going on in her life, she had the support of her family, the way he always had.
“That’s not surprising,” he admitted. “You can call her if you’d like. I’ll be happy to wait here.”
Her eyes traveled over his face for a moment, as if she was deciding if he was trustworthy. She smiled and stepped back, indicating for him to come inside. “That’s not necessary.”
She led him into a parlor that reminded Blue of his grandmother’s house. An Oriental rug covered dark hardwood floors, and the furniture looked as if it had been there for thirty years, though it was not frayed or marred in any way, simply dated. The sofa was covered with a burgundy and cream striped fabric, and the cranberry-colored wing chairs were patterned with diamonds. An antique china cabinet stood in the corner of the room, and an old-fashioned wooden desk sat between two large windows on the far wall.
“I’ll go get my husband. Please excuse me for a moment.” Mrs. Barber walked down the hall, and he heard her ascending the wooden stairs he’d seen from the foyer.
Blue noted the literature on the coffee table, Inns of Cape Cod and Gardens of New England. He tried to imagine Lizzie growing up in this house and what it might have been like for her. His house had always been loud and busy, a stark contrast to the silence of the inn. Then again, there weren’t six children running around the inn. His parents’ home tended to be quieter now, too, although their house still vibrated with the energy of the rambunctious Ryder family even when they weren’t all there.