you’re creating a new life for the two of you. That takes strength—and a lot of courage.”
Once more, he caught a suspicious sheen in her eyes before she turned away. “It doesn’t take courage to do what you have to do. And any strength you think you see is an illusion.” She pulled open the freezer and buried her head in the icy depths. “If you want to wash up, I’ll put the pizza in the oven. Zach won’t sleep long.”
Taking the cue, he rose and pushed through the back door. And as he headed to the sink in the guest quarters where he always cleaned up, he mulled over the dilemma he now faced.
He had hoped coming to Nantucket would give him a fresh start. One unencumbered by his checkered history. J.C. and Marci had both encouraged him to leave the past behind after he was released from prison, to focus on the future. And they’d done everything they could to help him. They’d offered moral support. They’d rented Edith’s cottage for him for the entire summer to help smooth his transition back to the civilian world and give him a chance to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. They’d even plied him with art supplies.
But maybe it had been a pipe dream to think he could start over with a blank canvas, he conceded, a pang echoing in his heart as he sudsed his hands. Maybe he’d never be able to wash away the taint of his mistakes. Sooner or later, people would learn about his record. He’d hoped it would be later, after he’d established some credibility and trust in the community. But if other residents felt even half as strongly about people with criminal pasts as Catherine did, he was doomed.
Grabbing a towel, he dried his hands and debated his next move. Should he keep his secret for now, hoping that in time his friendship with her might grow to the point where his past was less important? Or should he be upfront and put the outcome in God’s hands?
No answer came to him as he hung the towel back on the rack and stepped into the room he’d transformed over the past five days. Maybe he should sleep on the decision. And pray for guidance.
Opting for that plan, he headed back to the house to eat pizza.
And hoped it didn’t get stuck in his throat.
“That was good, Mrs. Walker. Thank you for inviting me.”
As Nathan wiped his lips on a paper napkin and crumbled it into a ball, Catherine examined his plate. Half of one of the two pieces of pizza he’d taken remained.
The episode with Zach must have killed his appetite. And her angry tirade hadn’t helped. She hadn’t meant to rant about the man who’d taken David’s life. But as she’dfeared, once she’d opened the floodgates, her fury had poured through.
Unfortunately, her intuition that this man, too, had endured heartache and would understand her feelings appeared to have been off base. Since he’d returned from the guest quarters, he’d distanced himself. An almost tangible tension crackled in the air.
Stifling a surge of disappointment, she attempted to restore the easy give and take that had begun to develop between them. “I’m glad you stayed for dinner. And let’s make it Catherine. I think we’ve moved past the Mrs. stage, don’t you?”
Zach spoke up before he could respond. “Do we have any cookies, Mom?”
“I think I can round up a few.” She rose and walked to the pantry. “Would you like some coffee, Nathan?”
“No.” He stood, too. “I need to be going.”
“Already?” Zach gave him a disappointed look.
“It’s way past quitting time, champ.” Nathan leaned over and tousled Zach’s hair. “And I have things to do tonight.”
“Like what?”
“Zach. That’s Nathan’s private business.” Catherine withdrew a package of vanilla sandwich cookies and set them on the table. “Let me get your shirt.” She walked over to the laundry room, pulled it from the dryer, and handed it to him. “We’ll see you Monday, then?” He was hovering at the screen door, as if
Once more, he caught a suspicious sheen in her eyes before she turned away. “It doesn’t take courage to do what you have to do. And any strength you think you see is an illusion.” She pulled open the freezer and buried her head in the icy depths. “If you want to wash up, I’ll put the pizza in the oven. Zach won’t sleep long.”
Taking the cue, he rose and pushed through the back door. And as he headed to the sink in the guest quarters where he always cleaned up, he mulled over the dilemma he now faced.
He had hoped coming to Nantucket would give him a fresh start. One unencumbered by his checkered history. J.C. and Marci had both encouraged him to leave the past behind after he was released from prison, to focus on the future. And they’d done everything they could to help him. They’d offered moral support. They’d rented Edith’s cottage for him for the entire summer to help smooth his transition back to the civilian world and give him a chance to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. They’d even plied him with art supplies.
But maybe it had been a pipe dream to think he could start over with a blank canvas, he conceded, a pang echoing in his heart as he sudsed his hands. Maybe he’d never be able to wash away the taint of his mistakes. Sooner or later, people would learn about his record. He’d hoped it would be later, after he’d established some credibility and trust in the community. But if other residents felt even half as strongly about people with criminal pasts as Catherine did, he was doomed.
Grabbing a towel, he dried his hands and debated his next move. Should he keep his secret for now, hoping that in time his friendship with her might grow to the point where his past was less important? Or should he be upfront and put the outcome in God’s hands?
No answer came to him as he hung the towel back on the rack and stepped into the room he’d transformed over the past five days. Maybe he should sleep on the decision. And pray for guidance.
Opting for that plan, he headed back to the house to eat pizza.
And hoped it didn’t get stuck in his throat.
“That was good, Mrs. Walker. Thank you for inviting me.”
As Nathan wiped his lips on a paper napkin and crumbled it into a ball, Catherine examined his plate. Half of one of the two pieces of pizza he’d taken remained.
The episode with Zach must have killed his appetite. And her angry tirade hadn’t helped. She hadn’t meant to rant about the man who’d taken David’s life. But as she’dfeared, once she’d opened the floodgates, her fury had poured through.
Unfortunately, her intuition that this man, too, had endured heartache and would understand her feelings appeared to have been off base. Since he’d returned from the guest quarters, he’d distanced himself. An almost tangible tension crackled in the air.
Stifling a surge of disappointment, she attempted to restore the easy give and take that had begun to develop between them. “I’m glad you stayed for dinner. And let’s make it Catherine. I think we’ve moved past the Mrs. stage, don’t you?”
Zach spoke up before he could respond. “Do we have any cookies, Mom?”
“I think I can round up a few.” She rose and walked to the pantry. “Would you like some coffee, Nathan?”
“No.” He stood, too. “I need to be going.”
“Already?” Zach gave him a disappointed look.
“It’s way past quitting time, champ.” Nathan leaned over and tousled Zach’s hair. “And I have things to do tonight.”
“Like what?”
“Zach. That’s Nathan’s private business.” Catherine withdrew a package of vanilla sandwich cookies and set them on the table. “Let me get your shirt.” She walked over to the laundry room, pulled it from the dryer, and handed it to him. “We’ll see you Monday, then?” He was hovering at the screen door, as if
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