The Good Ones Page 32

  Ryder opened his mouth to speak, but she held up one finger and said, “No!”

  “And that’s just the part about you and me,” she said. “We haven’t even gotten to the part about how much I love Perry, and I don’t want her to leave, either. Just look at what she made me.”

  She held up her bracelet but kept pacing, because if she didn’t she was afraid she’d do something desperate like throw herself in his arms and beg him to stay or slug him. It was a toss-up at the moment.

  “Now, I get that you’re the child of an alcoholic and that you lost your mother young. I understand that your entire life has been one loss after another and that by shoving Perry into boarding school, you’re preempting the pain you will feel when she eventually leaves, but guess what? You don’t get to escape the pain. It will come whether it’s in a few days or a few years.

  “And here’s the really important part. This isn’t just about you. You’re wrecking lives here, lots of lives. If you’re determined to send your daughter to the best school—if you ignore what her heart, my heart, your heart, and even George’s heart, want—just because you think this proves you’re the best dad, well, then, you’ve got it all wrong. Being the dad she needs, being here to raise her in a place she loves, with people she loves, that’s being the best dad. And if you’re doing it to avoid the heartbreak you’ll feel when she does leave, well, that’s just a chickenshit move and I thought you were braver than that.”

  Tears were coursing down her cheeks and the sobs had built up in her throat, making any more words impossible. Ryder was staring at her as if he didn’t recognize her. He rose as if he wanted to take her in his arms, but she held him off by putting both of her hands up. She couldn’t bear it if he touched her now.

  “Maisy, I’m sorry. I’m just doing what I believe is best for Perry,” he said. His bright-blue eyes implored her to understand. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

  “If it’s what’s best, then why are we all so miserable?” she asked. With that, she crossed the porch and went back into the shop. She locked the door behind her and dashed up the stairs to her apartment.

  There was nothing left now. It was over. Done. Finished. Kaput. She couldn’t stay in a relationship with Ryder anymore. It was just too painful.

  * * *

  • • •

  “YOU wanted to see me, Dad?” Perry asked. She appeared at Ryder’s elbow, where he stood looking at the horses in the corral. Quino had a night class going on and light poured out of the barn and across the stable yard. Ryder was standing by the horses that were not being used tonight.

  One of his favorites, an old gray nag named Esther, was nudging him with her nose, trying to shake him down for more carrots. Too old to ride, Quino kept Esther around because she had been his mother’s favorite horse. Funny, the things people hung on to when they’d suffered a tragic loss. Quino held on to Esther after losing his mom, Maisy held on to her auntie El’s house, and what did Ryder hang on to? The pain. That was all he had.

  After a childhood spent constantly broke and on the move, he hadn’t wanted anything from his father and there hadn’t been anything left to hang on to from his mother. Or so he had thought. In the mail that afternoon a very small package had arrived. It was for Perry from his brother, Sawyer, all the way from Texas.

  Of all the losses he’d sustained over the years, losing his brother had been one of the hardest. Oh, Sawyer wasn’t gone from his life. They talked every now and then, but the closeness they’d shared as boys, surviving dire poverty and an unreliable father, had faded as they both went on with their lives. Ryder’s world had become Perry, and Sawyer had left Austin to go find his own way. And yet, today a package had arrived, as if Sawyer knew that Perry leaving for school was a very big deal for Ryder.

  “Your uncle Sawyer sent me something to give to you, ladybug,” he said. He took the small box that had been in the package and handed it to Perry.

  “Uncle Sawyer?” Perry asked. Her eyes went wide as she took the box. She glanced around, looking hopeful. Uncle Sawyer had always been one of her favorite people. “Is he here?”

  “No, he’s still in Texas, but he knew you were leaving for school and he thought you’d like to have this.”

  Perry gave him a confused look. She opened the box and her eyes went wide. Nestled inside the dark blue velvet was a pendant. It was a delicate gold chain with a blue sapphire in the shape of a teardrop hanging from it.

  “Wow.”

  “Here,” he said. He gently lifted the necklace out of the box and when Perry turned around, he fastened the tiny clasp. She turned back around. The pendant hung just below her collarbone, like it always had when his mother wore it. Ryder smiled past the lump in his throat.

  “It’s beautiful,” Perry said. “But I don’t understand. Why did Uncle Sawyer send it to me? Did he break up with another ‘special lady friend’?”

  Ryder laughed and then cleared his throat. “Uh, no. He sent it to you, Perry, because it used to belong to our mother.”

  Perry gasped and glanced down at the pendant. “Really? This was my grandmother’s?”

  Ryder nodded. “I thought it was lost forever, but your uncle apparently got it back from the pawnshop where our father had taken it. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know how, but he did, and he’s kept it all these years just for you.”

  Perry looked awed, which was exactly how Ryder felt. Sawyer. No matter the time or miles between them, they were always connected. Brothers.

  “Seeing that necklace reminds me of something my mom always said. When she would tuck us in, she would kiss our foreheads and say, ‘You know, I loved you before I even knew you, and I’ll love you forevermore.’”

  Perry looked down at the necklace and then back up at Ryder. She gave him a small smile and her eyes were watery when she said, “I wish I could have known her.”

  “Me, too. You have her spark. She would have loved you so much.” His throat got tight and he gave her braid a gentle tug. “You know that I feel that way about you, ladybug, don’t you?”

  She nodded. A tear spilled down over her cheek and she wiped it away.

  “I know I never say it, but the truth is I loved you before I even knew you, and I’ll love you forevermore.”

  “Aw, Dad,” Perry cried, and she threw herself at him. “I love you, too.”

  Ryder hugged his daughter tight. He kissed the top of her head and said, “I love you, ladybug. I always have and I always will.”

  Perry sobbed and Ryder held her. He ran his hand over her back, trying to soothe her just like he had when she was little. When the tears eased and the sobs stopped, he leaned back and studied her swollen eyes and red nose.

  “So, about this good deed club of yours,” he said. “I know you’re supposed to keep it anonymous, but do you think maybe the group could help a guy out?”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because there’s been a change of plans,” he said.

  Perry blinked. She studied his face, trying to determine what he meant and then her eyes went wide and she grinned and said, “Yeah, I think they’ll be happy to help. So, what’s the plan?”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  MAISY didn’t see either Ryder or Perry after her dramatic tirade. A week had passed since her epic hissy fit, and she was sure they were already in Connecticut getting Perry set up at her new school. The thought gutted Maisy.

  Ryder was probably over her for calling him out, and she knew she had disregarded Perry’s request not to say anything to her father, so she was probably unhappy with Maisy, too. Ugh, the whole messy ending made Maisy’s stomach hurt, or maybe that was the half gallon of cherry chocolate chip vanilla ice cream she had eaten with a side of an entire package of Oreos.

  She put her spoon in the cardboard container and pushed it away. She was sitting in the middle of the empty turret,
wishing she could take back all of the harsh things she’d said while also wishing she had doubled down and said even more until Ryder saw sense.

  She’d picked up her phone a thousand times to text Ryder, but she didn’t know what to say. King George stuck his face into the ice cream container and came out with a spot of vanilla on his black nose. Despite her misery and her stomachache, Maisy chuckled.

  “Oh, George,” she said. “You’re the one man I can count on, aren’t you?”

  “Okay, your pity party is getting to be over the top,” Savy said. She was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. “I ignored the no showering, the midnight-eating benders, and the sound of Carmen Miranda movies coming from your room in the middle of the night, but enough. You have to get back in the game, Maisy. The shop needs you. I need you.”

  Maisy didn’t respond. Savannah wasn’t easily ignored, however. She marched across the room and stood over Maisy and said, “You have two choices. You can either get up and go take a shower or I will haul the garden hose into the house and wash you down myself with the sprayer on high.”

  “You’re being awfully aggressive,” Maisy said. “I’m brokenhearted—you’re supposed to be nice to me.”

  “I have been nice, but you’re starting to smell,” Savy said. She grabbed Maisy’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “Upsy-daisy.”

  “Why the rush?” Maisy asked. “Can’t I wallow for a few more days?”

  “No, the new neighbors have invited us over and we’re going,” Savannah said.

  “Ugh, I don’t want to meet anyone,” Maisy said. “I’m not up for chitchat.”

  “Listen, we have a lot of traffic coming and going,” Savannah said. She took Maisy’s hand and dragged her to their apartment. “No pressure, but you need to go over and be charming so that they love you and don’t get annoyed about living next door to a busy bookshop.”

  “I’ll bring them a pie next week,” Maisy said.

  “No.” Savannah opened the bathroom door and shoved her inside.

  Maisy thought about lying down on the bathroom floor, but she knew Savannah. She would just plow her way in and bodily toss Maisy into the shower. This was one of the disadvantages of living with an Amazon who thought running and working out were fun. Savy was ridiculously fit and besting her in a show of strength was virtually impossible.

  Maisy took her shower, putting in minimal effort. When she got out, a pair of clean clothes were waiting for her, a dress and strappy sandals. Fine. Maisy put them on but she refused to fuss with her hair or put on makeup. Yes, her rebellion was strong! She towel-dried her hair and let her curls do their thing.

  When she stepped out, Savannah was waiting for her. She glanced at her phone and then at Maisy. “About time,” she said. “I thought you were trying to drain the hot water heater.”

  “Several days of crud required me to chisel the dirt off,” Maisy said.

  A small smile played on Savannah’s mouth. “Come on. It’ll be painless, I promise. We’ll just do a pop-in, meet our new neighbors, and ghost out of there.”

  “Fine,” Maisy said. “Where’s George?”

  “I put him to bed in his room,” Savannah said.

  Maisy wanted to go visit George. Who was she kidding? She wanted to go hang out with him in the hidden room until the world went away. Savannah kept a grip on Maisy’s hand, clearly sensing she was a flight risk.

  The late-August evening was cool, a nice break from the humidity of the day. The house next door was another Victorian, but it was square in shape, with a mansard roof and lots of windows.

  It had been empty since last year when the elderly owner, Aurelia Ortiz, had passed away. Her children had opted to sell it, since one lived in Charlotte and the other in Raleigh.

  Maisy wondered who they’d sold it to and hoped they were friendly. There were lights on in the house and she could hear the sound of music and low voices. Savannah went right up to the door and rang the bell. Maisy looked over her shoulder, longing to be back in her turret, wallowing. She really could have an advanced degree in wallowing, she was just that good.

  The sound of someone moving behind the door brought her attention back to the house. She forced a smile onto her face and stood beside Savy, ready to greet the people who would be her neighbors. If they didn’t read, that was going to be problematic, but if they dissed romance novels, that was going to be catastrophic. It could lead to a spat, which would escalate, and they might even find themselves on a crime show about bad neighbors.

  The door was pulled open, and Maisy opened her mouth to say hi, but the word stuck in her throat. Framed in the doorway was Ryder.

  “What the . . . ?” Maisy stared stupidly.

  “Maisy!” Perry dashed around her father and hugged Maisy tight. “Surprise!”

  Maisy hugged her back and then pulled back to look at her. “You’re here.”

  “Yes!” Perry bounced on her feet. “Dad changed his mind. I’m not going away to school. I’m staying. Are you surprised?”

  “Stunned,” Maisy said.

  She glanced past Perry at Ryder. He was studiously staring at the floor, clearly avoiding her gaze.

  “Come on, kiddo, let’s give these two a moment,” Savy said.

  She hooked her arm through Perry’s and dragged her toward the open kitchen at the back of the house, where Maisy saw all of their friends gathered. Most of them were watching her and Ryder, and she was suddenly irritated that she hadn’t put more effort into her appearance.

  “Well,” she said. She crossed her arms over her chest. She was flummoxed, good and truly flummoxed.

  As if sensing this, Ryder unhooked her arms, took her hand in his and led her into what would have been the front parlor back in its heyday. It was empty of everything but a few boxes and there was a window seat underneath the big bay window. Maisy pulled her hand out of his and sat down, waiting for an explanation.

  “I was going to tell you about the change of plans the other night, but I wanted to tell Perry first, plus you were too busy yelling at me,” he said.

  “You were already planning this?” she asked.

  “Partially. I’d already bought the house, figuring if we were going to have a long-distance relationship, I should have a place to come back to,” he said. “But then you made me see everything differently, and I knew I had to rethink. But things were in play, so I had to fly down to Charleston and see if I could get out of the contract I’d signed. That required some finagling. And Perry and I had some stuff, a lot of stuff, to sort out, too.”

  “So, you’ve been busy,” Maisy said.

  “Yep, but the biggest challenge was trying to figure out what to say to you,” he said. “I’m sorry seemed lame, and You’re right was just so obvious.”

  “It’s always nice to hear, though,” Maisy said. She was struggling to catch her breath. He was here! She wanted to hug him, she wanted to hit him, she wanted to hear him say what he was feeling. She stayed still and quiet, hoping.

  “So, after our talk, I figured a few things out,” he said. “You know, they say actions speak louder than words, but it turns out some people need to hear the words, as they should.”

  “Do they?” Maisy asked. Her heart started hammering in her chest. She had said that to him. Did that mean he’d heard her, really heard her? “I don’t know. Buying a house is a pretty loud action.”

  “You think?” he asked. “I thought it would seem strange that I bought the house next door since I’ve never owned a house, but I figured if we want to start a family we’ll need more space than the apartment above a bookstore.”

  “Start a what?”

  “A family.” He took her hand in his and knelt down in front of her. His gaze met hers and held it, and he cleared his throat and said, “Maisy Kelly, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone before, and I don�
�t want to live one single day of my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”

  He opened his right hand and a fantastic sparkler of a ring winked at her from his palm. Maisy was unsure of what to do. Should she kneel also? Should she snatch the ring, so he didn’t change his mind? Or should she—

  “Say it again!” she demanded.

  “Will you—”

  “No, not that part, the other.”

  “I love you,” he said. His bright-blue eyes met and held hers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  The sob that came out of Maisy felt as if it had been ripped from inside of her. Her throat was so tight it burned and she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe, and she was a little afraid she might pass out.

  “How?” she asked. It was all she could get out, but he understood.

  “I had to do some soul-searching,” he said. “I had to deal with some ghosts.”

  She looked at him, studying his face, trying to figure out what could have happened that her man had finally found his voice. She wanted to believe him, she wanted to jump all in, but she needed to know the whole story. He seemed to understand.

  “The last person I ever said I love you to was my mom,” he said. “I was seven. I stood by her bedside, holding her hand, it was shrunken and withered, not the hand of the mom who used to pick me up and swing me in circles over her head.

  “She had no hair, gone was the long mane of thick black hair that always covered me like a sweet-smelling blanket when she would lean down and kiss me good night. She had become a shadow of herself, this little fragile shell, and I loved her. I loved her so much.”

  His voice was gruff, tears shone in his eyes, and Maisy felt her heart clench tight like a fist. She could feel his pain. It was raw like an undressed wound and she desperately wanted to help him heal with a hug or kiss. Instead, she forced herself to be still and listen.