Instead, all I can think iseight days.
Rascal nudges my hand, sensing my mood shift. I scratch his ears absently.
"This is good news, buddy. Great news. Dream-come-true news." But my voice sounds hollow even to my own ears.
I should call Janet immediately. I should be sending champagne emoji and exclamation points. Instead, I close thelaptop, promising myself I'll respond after coffee. After I've had time to think.
A gentle knock at the door startles me. I quickly set the laptop aside and answer it, finding Evie Callahan standing on my porch with a basket of muffins, her silver hair catching the morning light.
"Good morning, dear. I thought you might enjoy some blueberry muffins. Still warm from the oven." Her eyes crinkle warmly, then fall to Rowan's jacket still wrapped around my shoulders. "Though I see you're staying plenty warm already."
Heat rushes to my cheeks. "Oh! I—we—it was cold last night, and?—"
"Breathe, honey." Her eyes dance with amusement. "I'm teasing. May I come in? I've brought coffee, too." She holds up a thermos. "Though it looks like you've already got some brewing."
"Please." I step back, suddenly aware of my rumpled appearance. "Sorry about the mess. I was just..." What? Daydreaming about your son? Panicking about an email? Both?
Evie settles at my small table, pouring coffee for us both while I place her muffins on a plate.
"Actually," she says, her tone casual but her eyes watchful, "I had another reason for stopping by. Janet called the lodge this morning, looking for you. She seemed quite excited about something and a little concerned when she couldn't reach you."
I freeze with a muffin halfway to the plate. "Janet called you?"
"She and I go back twenty years, dear." Evie stirs honey into her coffee. "She's been coming to the lodge since before Rowan was born. When she couldn't reach you, she called to make sure everything was alright."
"I got her email," I admit, sinking into the chair opposite her. "About BookWorld."
"She mentioned something about that." Evie's smile is genuine, maternal in a way that makes my heart ache a little. "It sounds wonderful."
"It is. I mean, it's everything I've worked for. A major launch, national exposure, Olivia Lee..." I trail off, my enthusiasm faltering as I hear myself speak.
"But?" Evie prompts gently, her eyes kind.
"But nothing. It's amazing." I fiddle with my coffee cup. "I should be ecstatic."
"Should be," she repeats, and there's no judgment in her voice, just quiet understanding. "And yet you haven't called her back."
Our eyes meet, and I see knowledge in hers. More than understanding. Insight.
"It's complicated," I finally say.
"Because of my son?" The directness is softened by her gentle tone.
My gaze drops to Rowan's jacket still wrapped around my shoulders. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only to a mother who knows her son better than he knows himself." She reaches across the table to cover my hand with hers. "And who recognizes the look of someone who's found something unexpected."
"I don't know what I'm doing, Evie," I confess, the words tumbling out. "Eight days ago, I would have been dancing around this cabin at Janet's email. Now I'm..."
"Torn," she supplies when I falter.
"Yes." The admission is both a relief and a weight. "Is that crazy? I've known Rowan for barely a week."
"Time isn't always the best measure of what matters." She breaks a muffin in half, offering me part. "Sometimes we recognize what feels like home right away."
I accept the muffin, grateful for the moment to collect my thoughts. "He told me about Heather last night."
Surprise flickers across Evie's face. "Did he?"
