Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Quote
- Prologue
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- Part Two
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- Part Three
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Part Four
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- Part Five
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Part Six
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- Part Seven
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Part Eight
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- Part Nine
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Part Ten
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Part Eleven
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- Part Twelve
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- Part Thirteen
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- AUTHOR NOTE
- Reader’s Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- The Heirloom Garden
- Abby
Scooter nods. “When my dad got sick, I came home. I was so angry at first, that he was sick, that everyone saw me as a failure. But then I remembered how much he sacrificed to make this place a success, to give me everything I ever wanted, and I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I didn’t want to run from my history anymore, I wanted to embrace it.”
My eyes grow big. “That’s exactly how I feel,” I say. “And I wanted to play by my own rules for once, too.”
“So why are you here, Adie Lou,” Scooter asks, “since you had no idea I was going to be here?”
“Remember the 1940 Chris-Craft my parents had?”
“How could I forget? The Adie Lou. What a beauty. Your parents got it after that trip to Capri, didn’t they? Your dad found it in Tahoe?”
I nod. “It was my dad’s pride and joy,” I say. I’m impressed he remembers the story.
“Besides you,” Scooter adds with a wink, causing me to smile. “That’s why he named it after you.”
“It’s been in storage awhile, and I’m thinking of using it for sunset boat rides. Maybe serving some wine and cheese. But I think it needs some work.” I hesitate. “And I think I might need a deal.” I hesitate again. “Deal meaning I don’t think I can afford to do it.”
“Is that what you say to a small-business owner?” Scooter asks.
My face flushes. “No, it’s what you say to an old friend.”
“An old friend you didn’t stay in touch with,” he says, and my stomach drops.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was in college, I met Nate, I got pregnant soon after... It was a blur.”
“I know,” he says. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just odd that two people who were in each other’s lives for so long just fell away from one another.” He stops and repeats what he said earlier. “We were just kids, though.”
Scooter shakes his head and smiles.
“Let me do this,” he says. “I’ll shoot you an email after I look over my calendar. We’ll set a time to see your boat, and I’ll see what I can do.” He stops and winks. “As an old friend.”
He stands, and I follow suit. I notice there is a photo of him in his high school glory on a file cabinet behind him. He’s being carried on the shoulders of his teammates, holding the state championship trophy, and the look on his face says that he is unbeatable, unstoppable, invincible.
That was before we grew up, I think. Before we knew what the world had in store.
We walk into the hall, and he gives me a big hug.
“It was great to see you, Adie Lou,” he says.
“You, too.”
I turn and begin to walk away.