Read Online Homecoming in November (The Calendar Girls Book 3) by Gina Ardito - Free Book Online
Authors: Gina Ardito
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Kristen Boggs for her broken heart at last month’s Halloween shindig.”
“I hate to have to tell you this, sunshine,” he replied, “but there’s a very good reason for that. A broken heart’s exactly what you’re suffering from, too. You’ve been ignoring the ailment for years.”
He had a point. The cracks had first appeared when David started pulling away from me, emotionally and physically, sometime during our third year of marriage. I knew the business wasn’t doing well, and he was having difficulties meeting the needs of his clients, but I never realized how desperate he’d become. His murder nearly destroyed me. The arrest and subsequent trial of his killer exhausted me to the point I had to be hospitalized. And then the defense attorney had spun his tale, and a black cloud of doubt formed over me where it still hovered to this day. Of course all the horrors I’d endured had broken my heart. Or perhaps, frozen it, since for some reason the damn organ still worked—just at a much slower pace these days.
I rolled my shoulders to release some tension, forced a smile to brighten my tone of voice. “Okay, Doc. I’ll give it a try.”
“Atta girl. See you tomorrow. And don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
I knew better, but what was the point of arguing? He’d find out for himself soon enough. “If you say so. Goodnight, Dom.”
“Goodnight, Jayne.”
I hung up, put away the rest of my groceries and called my mother.
After the usual chitchat, I asked, “Did you and Dad decide on a place to go for the month?”
“Your father wants to stay here. Honestly, I can’t blame him. It’s not fair that we should have to interrupt our lives just because they can’t find you.”
I bit my tongue. Our relationship had been frayed to mere threads by now. One sharp word could sever contact for good. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. They found me. I have a feeling your month is going to get a whole lot more relaxed now.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean—”
“I know. Me, too. If they’re still pestering you after tomorrow and you decide you do want to go away, call me. My offer stands until this blows over again.”
I hung up and proceeded to follow doctor’s orders by filling the tub with a rose and pomegranate bath bomb and pouring an enormous glass of chilled white wine. The phone rang an additional half dozen times while I soaked, but I refused to move, letting the callers go straight to voicemail, grateful I’d turned down the volume during that first contact from Tanya Carter.
A short time later, garbed in my softest pajamas, with Midnight slumbering on my lap, I sipped my wine, watched Meg Ryan try to win over Tom Hanks sometime in the nineties, and forced myself to ignore the flower of anxiety blooming inside me.
Let the good times roll.
Chapter 5
Terri
My first reaction was despair. I sank into the nearest chair—a cushy loveseat—with my back to the storefront window and sobbed. All too soon, self-pity heated to rage. Judgmental, nosy, closed-minded idiots. This town was full of ‘em. I never should have come back to Snug Harbor. Just because seven or eight caring, generous friends forgave me and offered me a second chance didn’t mean the rest of the residents here would.
I looked at the flyer again, my blood close to boiling. Great. If everyone on Main Street got one of these, if they were plastered on every streetlight pole between here and Coffield’s Wharf, if even the tourists saw this ugly photo, how could I possibly hope to have this business succeed long-term? And this time, when I failed, I’d bring down my aunt and uncle, Gary Sullivan, and his son. My vivid imagination pictured that little boy huddled in a cardboard box on wintry Main Street with people passing him by as he held out a hand for spare change. Yeah, I’m a detailed gal. Except, the boy’s features were grainy because I couldn’t
“I hate to have to tell you this, sunshine,” he replied, “but there’s a very good reason for that. A broken heart’s exactly what you’re suffering from, too. You’ve been ignoring the ailment for years.”
He had a point. The cracks had first appeared when David started pulling away from me, emotionally and physically, sometime during our third year of marriage. I knew the business wasn’t doing well, and he was having difficulties meeting the needs of his clients, but I never realized how desperate he’d become. His murder nearly destroyed me. The arrest and subsequent trial of his killer exhausted me to the point I had to be hospitalized. And then the defense attorney had spun his tale, and a black cloud of doubt formed over me where it still hovered to this day. Of course all the horrors I’d endured had broken my heart. Or perhaps, frozen it, since for some reason the damn organ still worked—just at a much slower pace these days.
I rolled my shoulders to release some tension, forced a smile to brighten my tone of voice. “Okay, Doc. I’ll give it a try.”
“Atta girl. See you tomorrow. And don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
I knew better, but what was the point of arguing? He’d find out for himself soon enough. “If you say so. Goodnight, Dom.”
“Goodnight, Jayne.”
I hung up, put away the rest of my groceries and called my mother.
After the usual chitchat, I asked, “Did you and Dad decide on a place to go for the month?”
“Your father wants to stay here. Honestly, I can’t blame him. It’s not fair that we should have to interrupt our lives just because they can’t find you.”
I bit my tongue. Our relationship had been frayed to mere threads by now. One sharp word could sever contact for good. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. They found me. I have a feeling your month is going to get a whole lot more relaxed now.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean—”
“I know. Me, too. If they’re still pestering you after tomorrow and you decide you do want to go away, call me. My offer stands until this blows over again.”
I hung up and proceeded to follow doctor’s orders by filling the tub with a rose and pomegranate bath bomb and pouring an enormous glass of chilled white wine. The phone rang an additional half dozen times while I soaked, but I refused to move, letting the callers go straight to voicemail, grateful I’d turned down the volume during that first contact from Tanya Carter.
A short time later, garbed in my softest pajamas, with Midnight slumbering on my lap, I sipped my wine, watched Meg Ryan try to win over Tom Hanks sometime in the nineties, and forced myself to ignore the flower of anxiety blooming inside me.
Let the good times roll.
Chapter 5
Terri
My first reaction was despair. I sank into the nearest chair—a cushy loveseat—with my back to the storefront window and sobbed. All too soon, self-pity heated to rage. Judgmental, nosy, closed-minded idiots. This town was full of ‘em. I never should have come back to Snug Harbor. Just because seven or eight caring, generous friends forgave me and offered me a second chance didn’t mean the rest of the residents here would.
I looked at the flyer again, my blood close to boiling. Great. If everyone on Main Street got one of these, if they were plastered on every streetlight pole between here and Coffield’s Wharf, if even the tourists saw this ugly photo, how could I possibly hope to have this business succeed long-term? And this time, when I failed, I’d bring down my aunt and uncle, Gary Sullivan, and his son. My vivid imagination pictured that little boy huddled in a cardboard box on wintry Main Street with people passing him by as he held out a hand for spare change. Yeah, I’m a detailed gal. Except, the boy’s features were grainy because I couldn’t
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