“I was listening to that.” Jorie gripped the wheel with two hands as she pulled onto Highway 61.
Hilary leaned against the headrest. “I don’t feel like listening to music now.”
“What did Darcy say to you about Dane? I heard her say he left at four?”
“Yes, that’s what she said.”
“That’s an ungodly hour,” Jorie said, not taking her eyes from the road. Then, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That you connected with someone who, under better circumstances, might be a great guy to get to know a little better.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jorie turned the music back on but kept the volume down. “He lives far away. Relationships are hard enough without adding hundreds of miles to the equation.”
Hilary almost laughed aloud, but the anger welling up inside her drowned even a sarcastic comeback. Here Jorie was sympathizing with her, when for the last three days she took every chance to talk Hilary out of her interest in Dane. And what did Jorie know about long-distance relationships? She’d lived in the same house all her life and married her high school sweetheart.
“Did you forget Will and I met in college? That I lived in California during the two summers we dated before graduation? That I worked there for a year before we married and I moved to Redville?”
“No, I didn’t,” Jorie said. “All I’m saying is it takes a lot of energy, and you barely know him.”
Hilary took the letter from her pocket and slipped a finger under the flap, opening it. What she knew about Dane she really liked. Why wasn’t Jorie on her side?
“What’s that?” Jorie asked.
“A letter from Dane.”
Defiance surged in her. Let her wonder what it said. Hilary slipped the paper from the envelope. Dane’s bold handwriting wasn’t the neatest. The letter looked hastily written too. She took a deep breath.
Hilary -
First, I know this note is a poor substitute for a real goodbye. I know you would have gotten up to see me off at 4 a.m. if I told you, so I wanted to spare you that. The other reason is purely selfish and I hope you can at least understand. I would rather have the memory of last night, kissing you under the tent, than a rushed goodbye in the dead of night. That kiss was, well, it was something. I hope you’re not too mad. Maybe you feel the same way. That’s what I’m hoping.
She swallowed. So she was right. That kiss was a much better way to end the week. No words could have conveyed what their time together meant to him. Or to Hilary for that matter. Hilary continued reading:
I’m going to say this again so there’s no misunderstanding. I would love to see you again. Clove isn’t that far from Redville, less than a day’s drive. But I think there are larger obstacles in the way than distance. If you feel like dealing with those challenges, I’ll be your biggest cheerleader. But if not, I get it.
Yours,
Dane
Challenges.
Hilary looked over at Jorie. Her sister-in-law stared at the road ahead.
Jorie had been such an amazing help to Hilary. Strong, determined, never wavering in her belief that Hilary could get through losing Will. And while Jorie herself grieved terribly for him, Hilary never saw her break down. There weren’t episodes of sobbing behind closed doors or tears brought on by a special song. Sometimes Hilary came out of her bedroom in the morning and caught Jorie staring at the framed photos in the hallway, visual reminders of the happy childhood she’d shared with her younger brother on the farm and the family vacations at the lake house. Jorie brought his name up in conversation a lot too. But Jorie wasn’t one for emotional displays. She was too stoic.
Jorie glanced over at the note in Hilary’s lap but was silent. If she was curious, Jorie didn’t let on. Maybe Jorie learned a lesson after reading the flirty messages she and Dane shared the other day.
Hilary rested her forehead against the window, watching the landscape as they drove west. She sighed.
Clove and Redvillewerefar apart.
The bed-and-breakfast would be operational by the fall, September at the earliest.
There were recipes to test and marketing to worry about.
