Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2) (6 page)

Prim regretted bringing up the subject, regretted the bitterness she hadn’t been able to keep out of her voice. Whatever problems they’d had in their marriage, Rory was Callum and Connor’s father. Her smile suddenly felt brittle, ready to break in a thousand pieces. “Thanks again for—”

“You were right. Charlotte is divorced.”

There was a beat of silence.

Max leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Though you haven’t asked, I’m her accountant. We’ve gone out once. No kids in the picture. But that kind of goes without saying. I’d never be in a casual relationship with a single mom.”

Prim inhaled sharply, then covered it with a cough. The Max she knew loved children. Seeing him with her sons told her that hadn’t changed. She’d even found herself thinking how nice it would be if . . .

She stopped herself.
Not going down that road.
No point.

Still, she couldn’t help wondering, couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. “Why no single moms?”

He paused for so long she wondered if he was going to answer.

“You remember how it was at my house.” There was a hesitant quality to his voice.

Prim’s heart pinged. She remembered his mother’s revolving door of men.

“For a long time I thought I was the reason none of them stuck long.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I won’t do that to someone else’s kids.”

She understood the do-no-harm mentality, admired the protective streak. That’s why she knew he’d understand
her
decision. “The potential upheaval dating brings to a child’s life is the reason I won’t date until the twins are out of high school.”

“That’s what you said at the reception.” His inscrutable expression gave no indication of his thoughts on the matter.

Then again, what had she expected him to do? To say?

Did she really think he’d slap her on the back and tell her it was a wise decision? Had she thought he’d argue and try to change her mind? She wouldn’t have wanted that, not at all.

“I spoke with Eliza this morning.” He glanced at his phone, checked the time. “She said you plan to start entering data today.”

Prim took up the conversational ball, finding comfort in the familiar. “Computerizing the Cherries’ financial records will be a piece of cake. I figure I should be able to get all the data keyed in before dinner.”

Max shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have a few things I need to handle, but I can stop over after lunch, help you get started.”

“I appreciate the offer, but like I said, this is pretty basic stuff.”

“That’s not how Gladys felt.”

“At this stage in her life, Gladys’s heart is with the theater.” Prim lifted her chin. “If I had even half her talent, I’d be focused on the stage, too.”

“Spoken like a loyal friend.”

“Just calling it like I see it.” A self-conscious laugh escaped her lips. “Now, coordinating the parade is a whole different animal. I definitely need you to guide me.”

“You can count on me, Prim.” His steady gaze shot tingles down her spine. “Always.”

C
hapter
S
ix

“What did Dad have planned for the boys this morning?” Ami asked, turning around to lock her front door.

Since Hill House, where the Independence Day planning meeting would be held, sat just down the street from her sister’s home, Prim had parked in Ami’s drive and retrieved her sister for the short walk over. Once they reached the home, instead of immediately heading inside they paused on the porch.

“Actually, the boys aren’t with Dad, they’re with Max.” Prim tossed the words out there with all the attention one might give to flicking a piece of lint off a summer dress. A casual disregard that said the twins spending time with Max was no. Big. Deal.

“You and Max are together?” Her sister practically squealed the words. “Of course you’re together. Why else would he be watching the boys? Oh, I can’t wait to tell Beck the good news.”

“Slow down. He’s watching the twins because I’m helping him with the parade. He owes me.”

“If you say so.” Ami’s tone was irritatingly cheery.

“I can’t believe you.” Prim threw up her hands in frustration. “I just moved back and you already have me hooking up with my hunky neighbor. In what universe does that make any kind of sense?”

Ami waved the question aside. Or perhaps she was waving to Katie Ruth, who was striding down the sidewalk, ear buds obviously hooked to a phone in her pocket. Either that or the pretty blonde had taken up talking to herself.

“So you think Max is hunky, huh?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Prim started toward the porch steps, but Ami grabbed her arm and dug in her heels.

“Not so fast. Really, tell me what’s up with you two.” Her sister’s tone was lighthearted, but the flare of hope she saw in Ami’s green eyes tore at Prim’s heartstrings.

It wasn’t in Prim’s nature to burst anyone’s bubble, but she didn’t understand why clarifying was even necessary. Ami knew where she stood on dating and romance. Prim had made that quite clear. And not all that long ago.

The wine and chocolate the four sisters had consumed two nights before the wedding hadn’t been enough to dull anyone’s senses. But it appeared she needed to say it again, and keep saying it, until Ami accepted it as fact.

“Nothing is between Max and me, other than neighborly friendliness.” Dismissing the kiss they’d shared as a simple momentary lapse, Prim kept her tone easy and conversational. “I meant what I said. I’m not going to date until the boys are out of high school.”

Ami was so busy checking her bag, pulling out one umbrella then another before dropping them back into the cavernous depths that Prim wondered if her sister was listening. Then Ami looked up. “I thought you were joking.”

“You knew I was serious,
am
serious,” Prim quickly corrected.

From their position on the massive porch, she and Ami waved to a couple of Cherries members hurrying past. One of them was Max’s mother, Vanessa Eden.

Rain had been forecast, but the clear, brilliantly blue sky mocked that prediction. There was, however, a slight mist in the air from the bay, and Prim felt her hair expanding by the second.

“Shouldn’t we get going?” Prim attempted to smooth the frizz with the palm of her hand. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Once we take a step into the inner sanctum”—Ami’s voice lowered to a spooky whisper—“we must remain silent. Or risk Eliza’s wrath.”

The cackling sound that burst from Ami’s throat was a mix between a squawking chicken and a deranged madman.

Prim shook her head, unable to keep from smiling. “You’re crazy. You know that, don’t you?”

“That’s the word.” Ami wagged a finger. “I believe
crazy
was what Fin dubbed your twelve-year no-dating plan.”

“I believe her actual words were, ‘Primrose, have you lost your mind?’” While Prim had laughed along with her other sisters, she’d wished they’d been more supportive of her decision.

“We want you to be happy.” Ami spoke softly, as if she’d read her mind. “That’s a long stretch of time to be alone.”

“I have the boys.”

“It’s not the same.”

Prim couldn’t argue that point. Having children in the house
wasn’t
the same as having a husband by your side when you needed a shoulder to cry on or wanted to celebrate a success. “You can be alone even when you’re married.”

“Was it that bad?” Sympathy filled Ami’s voice.

Prim hesitated, then realized she was tired of covering for Rory, tired of lying—especially to her own family—about her marriage. “I wouldn’t call it
bad
, but my marriage was different than I imagined it would be when I spoke my vows. Different than what I watched Mom and Dad share. Different from the way I see it is with you and Beck.”

She glanced away, not needing to see the pity in her sister’s eyes to know it was there. “I knew Rory had CF when I married him. I just didn’t realize how much his passion to live every moment, to experience every adventure, would impact our life together, and the lives of our sons.”

She stopped, realizing even now she was making excuses for his self-centered behavior.

“I’m angry at him, Am.” Prim’s voice shook with emotion. Because they were sisters—and close—she didn’t need to add that underneath the hot, molten anger flowed a river of sadness.

“I’m sorry, Prim.”

“I made my choice.” Taking a deep breath, Prim pulled out her phone and glanced at the time. “We really should get going. I don’t want to walk in late.”

Prim made it all the way down the steps before Ami caught up with her.

“Just remember, not all marriages are like what you had with Rory.” Ami kept her voice low. “With the right person, it can be amazing. Max is a wonderful guy.”

“I’m happy for you and Beck.” Prim willed her sister to see that truth in her eyes. “But I’m content with my life just the way it is.”

“We’ll talk more about this later.” The determined note in her sister’s voice made it a statement, not a question.

“Sure.” Prim knew whether she agreed or not, her decision would be questioned, debated, not just by Ami but by Fin and Marigold. Heck, her dad might even weigh in on the matter.

But Prim already knew what her response would be—what it
had
to be. The welfare of her boys came first.

“I dropped an extra umbrella in here for you.” Ami changed the subject, patting her large bag as they reached the sidewalk. “Remember how Mom always carried an umbrella in her purse? Even when there were blue skies and zero chance of rain?”

“I miss Mom and her umbrellas,” Prim said with a sigh.

Ami reached over and squeezed her hand. “It helps having you back. I mean, Dad is great, but lately he spends so much time with Anita.”

Anita Fishback, her dad’s
girlfriend
. Just the thought of the two together made Prim ill.

Prim paused for traffic at the corner of Market and Main. “I keep hoping Anita will show her true colors, do something that will be such a turnoff that he’ll never want to see her again.”

“Your mouth to God’s ear,” Ami muttered and made Prim grin.

Prim touched her sister’s arm as the two started up the walkway toward the doors of the majestic Hill House. “Tell me how this will play out.”

“We’ll follow the agenda we received. Basically we’re just going to be updating Eliza—and the others—on where we are in regard to our part in the upcoming Independence Day festivities.” Ami continued in a matter-of-fact tone, “As I’m coordinating the Cherries’ involvement in the pancake feed the morning of the Hometown Heroes parade, I’ll report on those efforts.”

“What will I do?”

“Just listen, get a feel for how everything works.” Ami offered a reassuring smile. “Since you recently came on board, no one expects you to know much of anything yet.”

The explanation sounded logical and made perfect sense. But Prim’s unease still grew with each step.

The house hadn’t changed. The massive staircase to the left was still impressive, and the ornate crown molding still drew the eye.

Hearing the click of heels on the hardwood floor, Prim looked up and caught the heavy scent of designer perfume just before Eliza stepped into the foyer.

“Everyone is in the parlor waiting.” Eliza’s gaze fixed on Ami. “We’re ready to get started.”

If the barb had struck its target, Ami gave no indication. Her sister merely glanced at the grandfather clock, which showed the time as 12:55. “The meeting is still set for one?”

“It’s always at one.”

“Just wanted to make certain nothing had changed,” Ami said equitably.

“If we’re late, it’s my fault,” Prim interjected. “It took me longer to—”

“We’re not late,” Ami snapped, then softened the words with a smile. “We still have five minutes.”

When the executive director remained silent, Ami’s head tilted. “Isn’t that right, Eliza?”

“As long as you are seated and ready to proceed at one.”

Her sister may have appeared unfazed, but Prim knew Ami had tender feelings. Since Ami was apparently determined to act as if Eliza’s barbs didn’t matter, Prim let it go.

She wanted to say more but they’d reached the parlor. As her gaze took in the scene, Prim was surprised how many of the women she knew around the semicircle. Katie Ruth was there as well as Lynn Chapin and Max’s mother.

If Prim remembered correctly, the two women had been high school classmates and were still good friends.

Catching the warning glance sent by Eliza in her direction, Prim stifled the urge to greet everyone and slid into an empty chair next to Katie Ruth. Ami slipped in beside her.

The clock in the foyer chimed the start of the meeting. Eliza made a few announcements, including a brief welcome to Prim.

The executive director cut off the words of greeting with one slice of her hand. “Lynn, would you like to report on the state of the Fourth of July preparations?”

Lynn Chapin, dressed in white pants and a royal blue camp shirt, rose with an easy grace Prim envied. Unlike Prim’s unruly ’do, Lynn’s silvery-blond bob brushed the tops of her shoulders, silky smooth.

“In addition to what is already in the works for the Independence Day and Hometown Heroes parades, the pancake feed, and the Music in the Square events, we’ll be adding a children’s parade on July third. Prizes will be given for the best-decorated bicycle, wagon, et cetera. We—”

“There was no money earmarked in the budget for prizes,” Eliza interrupted, startling Lynn, who simply stared.

“I was about to explain that the prizes will be covered by the merchants.” Lynn’s tone turned as cool as her eyes. “Katie Ruth got the buy-in from the business owners because any child who is in town during the festivities can participate. The merchants see this as a win-win for the community.”

Some of the tightness bracketing Eliza’s mouth eased. “I hope they’re not offering their support for this but pulling back on other planned donations.”

A startled look crossed Lynn’s face, as if that thought had not occurred to her. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you certain?” Eliza pressed.

Lynn’s lips pressed together for half a second but her voice displayed no irritation. “As a matter of fact, while I was discussing this addition, I confirmed their donations to the main celebrations.”

“Good.” A look of relief crossed Eliza’s face. “That’s fine, then.”

“Are donations of time, money, or supplies down, Eliza?” Katie Ruth raised her hand but spoke before being acknowledged. “You seem concerned.”

“We haven’t done as much fundraising this year as in the past. As each year we attempt to up our game, it doesn’t take much to deplete our coffers.” As if dismissing any further questions from Katie Ruth, Eliza shifted her body toward Prim. “Primrose, I’d like you to report on the progress of the parade on Independence Day.”

Startled, Prim glanced at Ami, who looked equally perplexed.

“Primrose is co-chairing the Independence Day parade with Max,” Eliza explained to the others. “As this is one of our most attended events of the year, it is critical that the parade go off without a hitch.”

The glint in those hard gray eyes told Prim the executive director was well aware she’d put her on the hot seat. Not only that, Eliza hoped she’d get scorched.

If Prim explained she’d only taken over the duties in the past forty-eight hours or protested that the brief agenda e-mailed to her hadn’t indicated she’d be expected to give a report, Eliza could make her appear incompetent with a few carefully chosen words.

Judging by the cat-got-the-canary look on Eliza’s face, that’s exactly what the executive director had in mind.

“Thank you for the opportunity to report, Eliza.” Prim rose, plastering a serene smile on her lips. “Max and I have all of the participant entry forms. We will be reaching out to the contact person for each entry to verify their participation and make sure they understand the parade guidelines.”

Her assumption was, at this late date, they had all the entry forms. By the nods, she’d assumed correctly.

Now the slippery part.

Last night—another restless one—she’d opened her laptop and pulled up everything she could find on parade planning. The information on how to best organize a parade had proved to be a better sleep aid than warm milk or melatonin. Still, Ami wasn’t the only Bloom sister with an excellent memory.