Chapter 2

I rarely go into the city to work. Most of the time, I work from my home office in Roseville, New Jersey. This past week was an exception to the rule. I went in for some meetings and to show off my new building designs. There were dinners and late nights, so I stayed in the city.

I don’t check my personal email every day. It”s before dawn on Sunday and the first morning I’ve woken up in my own bed in five days. My heart dropped when I saw the note from Joy. At the same time, I’m furious with her for not telling me what she was going through. I knew her mom had been ill, but she never mentioned that things had gotten worse. She usually texts these days, an email is unusual.

I packed a bag and jumped in my car. Twelve hours later, I’m pulling into Magnolia Point. When she doesn’t answer her front door, I head to Wordsmith’s Books and Stationery.

I’m not surprised when I find the store’s closed sign, but as I peer through the large windows, I see movement at the back where limited lights are on. I lift my fist to knock and have a moment of nerves. This is my favorite person on the planet, but I’ve never seen her in person. This could ruin everything, but she needs me and I want to be here for her.

I knock on the pane.

The movement stops.

Imagining Joy frozen, hoping whoever is out front will go away, I can’t help smiling. I rap on the glass again.

It’s five in the afternoon and the sun is beating down on me. While it makes it harder to see inside the dimly lit store, the outline of a person moving in my direction is clear.

When she clears the display table, she stops. As beautiful as her pictures, Joy Smith stares at me with wide green eyes. Her blond curls stick out in every direction. She’s wearing gray leggings and a white T-shirt. It looks as if she may have slept in the clothes and her red eyes show that she’s been crying.

My heart leaps into my throat. I should have been here. I didn’t know, but somehow, I should have. Waving, I hazard a smile.

As if dazed, she waves slowly.

I point to the door.

As if waking from a dream, she startles, then rushes forward to unlock the door. “You’re here.”

A tear bubbles over her lower eyelid and I push the door farther open and pull her into my arms. “I’m here.”

Weeping on my chest, she clutches my neck as if I might disappear if she lets go. “I…I…”

“I’ve got you.” I caress her back and keep my voice soft. I wish we had met in person for other reasons, and I wish she was hugging me because she’s happy to see me. However, I’m happy to give her the shoulder she needs. After all, she’s been my touchstone for so many years.

The sounds of people on the street behind me remind me that like Roseville, this is a small town with plenty of gossip. Lifting her in my arms, I carry her inside the dim shop. I have to leverage her to turn the lock, then I search for a spot away from the windows. She once told me about a reading nook where she hosts a book club. I find it at the back of the store. Three couches and two club chairs set around a coffee table.

Sitting on one of the couches, I run my hand over her soft curls. “Take deep breaths, Joy.”

Ragged, with a hiccup, she tries to comply. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Sopping up tears and snot is what friends are for.”

She looks up at me with wide horrified eyes. “Oh god. I’m a mess. You probably think I’m insane, or at the very least, needy.” She scurries off of my lap and grabs three tissues from a box on one of the end tables.

“I think you just lost your mom and you needed a shoulder to cry on. I wouldn’t expect you to be all put together and happy.” It’s a struggle to keep some disappointment out of my voice. “I wish you’d have told me what was happening here.”

Flopping onto the couch adjacent to me, she wipes her nose and avoids my gaze. “You had that big project, and I didn’t want to be a distraction.”

“I could have been here for you.” Taking a deep breath, I let it go with my issues. This isn’t about me. I take her hand. “Never mind. I’m here now.”

“You didn’t need to come all this way, Aiden. We could have talked on the phone. You need to be near New York. I wouldn’t want to be the reason you end up working far from your family again.” She pulls her hands from mine and worries the tissues until they begin to flake in her lap. Gathering up the pieces, she balls them up, stands, and drops them in a wastebasket by the club chair.

“I’m not going to lose my job because I came to South Carolina to help a friend. My boss will understand and if she doesn’t, I don’t want to work at a place like that. I mostly work from home, anyway.” I know her worry isn’t about my job. I know she thinks after all this time, our friendship can’t survive meeting in person. At the very least, it will change things. I know, because I have the same fears.

Joy bites her bottom lip and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad to have finally touched you.” A sad laugh escapes. “People were beginning to think you were a figment of my imagination.”

Getting up, I stand in front of her and unwind her hands before pulling her in for another hug. “I’m real enough, and it’s good to finally touch you too. We should have done this a long time ago and for less tragic reasons.”

Hugging me back, she lets her muscles relax and sighs into me. “I can finish stocking shelves another time. “I’ll just go wash my face and get my purse and we can go.”

Reluctant to release her, I can’t think of a valid reason to keep her. Regretfully, I let her go, watching as she rounds a corner away from me.

The shop is bigger than I imagined. A glass-and-chrome staircase leads up to a loft where I know she sells stationery and planner things. Walking to the front, I run my hand over the two-register counter with the sun shining from behind. Blinds are pulled halfway down the panes, probably to protect the books from excessive light. Only the double doors let in the full afternoon sun.

Set about ten feet back from the doors is a round table with recently released hardcover books arranged to entice readers. Behind that are two long tables with more books and small signs reporting that if you liked one book of a kind you will also like these. She has signs for romance, fantasy, horror, cooking, and a dozen other genres of fiction and non-fiction.

Above where the loft doesn’t reach, I can see the rafters and hanging lighting. Everything is painted black for an industrial look while the store is cozy and warm. I like the balance of modern and classic.

“I’m ready if you want to go.” She has a purple book bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes are still puffy, but she’s not crying.

“If you can recommend a hotel, I should probably check in somewhere before it gets too late, and then I’ll take you for dinner.” I unlock the front door. When she doesn’t join me, I stare at the sorrow growing in her green eyes. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You want to stay in a hotel?” Glancing at the floor, she hugs her waist and searches. “Um, there’s an inn, but um.”

I close the distance between us and crouch slightly so I can look her in her downcast eyes. “Joy, what did I say that has upset you? I know how to read between the lines of a letter you write, but I’m afraid I can’t yet decipher you in real life.”

Her lips tip up, and she lifts her chin. “Now I’m a woman of mystery. I like that.”

Is it possible she doesn’t know? “You are the woman of mystery.”

She grins, but then the sorrow returns, and with it, something more.

“Are you upset with me because I’m here? I know I should have called, but by the time I got your email, I was in a panic that three days had passed. Then this morning, I didn’t think calling you at five a.m. was a good idea.” If I have to turn around and go home, I will, but that’s the culmination of all my fears. After all these years, it’s possible she never wanted to meet me in person.

“I’m happy to finally see you in person.”

The air rushes back into my lungs. “What is it then?”

She shrugs again, which is an adorable habit. “I have a spare bedroom. You don’t have to stay in a hotel. I mean, unless you don’t want to stay at my house.”

“I didn’t want to presume anything.” My heart is beating faster than it should over being offered a guest bed. It takes an act of will to force myself to be calm. She didn’t offer me her bed. “I did arrive uninvited.”

Her cheeks flush. “You have a standing invitation, Aiden. You have had it for more than twenty years. This is just the first time you accepted it.”

“I like the sound of that.” I take her bag off her shoulder and sling it over mine.

Once outside, I wait while she locks up. “My house is not far. I usually walk.”

The town is like a postcard for the perfect oceanside small town. Quaint shops and the scent of the ocean make me breathe it all in as I show her to my pickup truck. “It’s nice here.”

“Somehow, I pictured you with some sporty car. This hardly seems like an architect’s ride.” She hops in the passenger seat.

The old red Nissan has a bench seat and four on the floor. “I bought this from one of my uncles, to get around town. Mostly I take the train when I go into New York.” I probably should have rented a car rather than drive all this way with a truck that has over two hundred thousand miles on it, but there wasn’t time.

“Don’t you have like a million relatives you could have borrowed a car from? You’re lucky you made it down here in this.” She stares at the crack in the dash.

“That would have meant leaving at least three hours later. When I got your messages, all I could think about was getting here as fast as possible.” It might be too much to admit, but I’ve known Joy since we were kids. There’s no reason to be less than honest.

She covers my hand on the stick shift. “Make the first left. Then it’s two blocks down on the right. The yellow house with pale-blue shutters.”

The warmth of her fingers sends a shock wave up my arm and through my body. Being touched by Joy Smith after all this time is like a dream. Pulling into her driveway, I admire the little Cape Cod style house with two dormers poking out of the black shingled roof. The front porch spans the house and was probably an add-on at some point. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” She gets out and waits for me to grab my bag from behind the seat. As she opens the front door, she hesitates. Turning to face me, she lifts onto her toes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

My heart may explode. How such a tiny gesture and chaste kiss can have this much effect on me, I don’t know. All I do know is I never want to stop touching and being touched by my Joy.