Page 97 of Hearts on the Mend

I look out over the field and the fence that needs to be fixed. The tall, brittle reeds of last year’s hydrangeas poke out along the front yard. I swear something shifts, the light, maybe. Or the way a small smile plays on my lips. Can’t tell if it’s me or the seasonal depression lifting, but I might just take a chance that is as terrifying as it is obvious.

Ember climbs up into my lap when I sit down at the kitchen table, butting her head against my chin. I scratch the back of her neck and am rewarded with the loudest purr. Truth is, I’ve come to love the furball, even if she did drag a dead mouse onto the foot of my bed last week.

Don’t want to talk myself out of this. I stare at Ethan’s name in my phone longer than I should before I blow out a breath and press call.

He picks up on the second ring, and I can hear the surprise in his voice as he says hello. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything okay with what?” I mean, not really, but I keep that to myself.

“Oh, I didn’t know if you—” He pauses. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t know if you needed anything, Cassie. Now that Nolan is gone, you can always call me or Jack. We’re happy to help.”

“Thanks.” I soften a little. Above me, I can hear Ruby running around upstairs, and Ember bolts to follow.

I can’t believe I’m about to say this.

“Listen, about that offer to lease out the barn, what would that look like?”

“The barn? For the restaurant?”

I pinch my brow, trying to calm my nerves. But at this point, I think I need an ice pack to my chest to regulate myself.

“Yeah, if we were to do that, how would that work? What would that mean for me and Ruby?”

It takes longer than I expect and feels more real with every detail we land on—all the numbers and timelines are overwhelming. But by the time we hang up, after I’ve invited him and Sloane over for dinner, I’m sitting with something unfamiliar in my chest. Something lighter than what I’ve felt for maybe years.

I’m choosing myself.

“Ruby!” I shout, pushing back from the chair. “Shoes on.”

She slides into the kitchen wearing a sparkly mermaid tail and an otter sweatshirt with the T. rex mask. I was unprepared for the number of outfit changes kids would make. My laundry room and I may never recover.

I chuckle. “Come on, you. We’re going to pick out paint.”

“Ugh, not again. I never want to see another paint square in my life.”

“Swatches, bug. And I hear you. But I thought we’d paint your room today. Any color you want.”

The grin on her face might be the first time I’ve felt a sliver of happiness in weeks. It’s bright, full of spring sunshine. Even if I’m terrified I’ll be coming home with lime-green paint.

We return, and the two of us paint and listen to Taylor Swift, stopping only to eat. And before it’s time for bed, I bring up the collection of smaller pots with browns and greens and grays, and a very bright orange.

I start tracing outlines, and Ruby watches from her sleeping bag on the floor. The rest of her furniture was pushed toward the middle of the room and covered in some old princess sheets. Seaweed, then seashells next.

It’s a perfect little seaside escape for her.

She squeals when I start painting the otters in. I make sure one is holding a seashell.

I step back, look at the wall for a moment, then dip my brush once more. In the small otter’s paw, the one tucked between seaweed, I paint a tiny round pebble.

Ruby goes very still.

I draw her in close, kissing her forehead. We don’t say anything else.

Chapter 31

Nolan

The sunset is hazy, colors smeared across the sky like one of Ruby’s drawings from art class. It’s gold with a thick smear of pink like crumbling pastels trailing the horizon.