man looking at Mom the way Dylan looked at Ava, but just couldn’t. Mom had never dated, not once, saying she had Kristen and that was enough. But could there be another reason Mom had never dated? Was it possible she was still in love with my dad? Oh wow. And maybe he still loves her. If that was true, then there was someone in town hurting the same way Kristen hurt. The thought filled her with a fresh determination to find him.
Ava waved Dylan away. “Get on to the kitchen where you belong. I need a spigot I can count on. The one that’s in there leaks.”
Dylan gave a heavy sigh. “That’s all I am to you, isn’t it? Just a handsome, brazen contractor who can fix anything, anywhere.”
“The clock’s ticking, Fraser. We don’t have a lot of time before opening day, as you well know.”
“Right. Got it. Get to work and stop talking.” He picked up his box and headed toward the kitchen. “Don’t mind me,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll just guess where to put this spigot since no one is coming to tell me. Maybe I’ll install it over the stove. That would work, wouldn’t it?” His voice drifted out of the kitchen.
Ava ignored him and turned back to Kristen. “Look at all these empty boxes. You did a lot today.”
“It’s good to keep busy.”
“It’s also good to have fun. Want to head out early?”
“Would you mind?” If Kristen hurried, she might be able to catch up with Missy and Josh, and they could work out yet more details of their plan.
“Not at all. See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Kristen grabbed her coat from where it hung over the back of one of the stools by the counter.
“And, Kristen?”
She stopped and turned around.
“If you need anything, let me know. Okay?”
Kristen smiled. Ava had already helped her; she just didn’t know it. “Will do. Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
And with that, she slipped out of the tearoom and went to look for her friends. Maybe, just maybe, she’d found the solution to her biggest problem.
CHAPTER 7 Ellen
“What are you doing?”
Ellen lowered the painting she was carrying so she could see over the top.
Kristen, wearing a powder-pink ski jacket and a pair of patterned purple yoga pants, stood just inside the front door, her backpack hanging from one shoulder.
“I’m moving this painting, which isn’t easy because it’s huge, and I—” The painting was almost jerked out of her hands.
Kristen carried it past Ellen and into the living room.
Ellen followed, irritated all the way to her toes. She’d had a horrible day. Once again, she’d slept only a few hours, which had left her mind a mass of fog and indecision. She’d had far too many meetings today, and on top of that, she’d just found out that all three of her favorite contractors were booked through the rest of the year, so she’d have to find a substitute for her big fall project.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. While pacing around the house during a particularly boring conference call, trying desperately to stay awake, she’d found herself standing in the doorway of Julie’s studio. In the weeks since Ellen had arrived, she’d avoided two rooms—the studio and Julie’s bedroom. And yet there Ellen stood.
The studio was filled with Julie’s things. A half-done painting sat on an easel near a window. Books were scattered around the room, open and half read. A fluffy lap blanket was pooled on the floor beside a chair. Two pairs of shoes were piled beside the door where they’d been hastily kicked off. It looked as if Julie had just that second left.
Ellen’s throat had tightened, and she’d pressed her hand to it, trying to dislodge the feelings that had threatened to overwhelm her. It had taken every bit of strength she’d possessed to gather herself and continue the phone call.
Kristen placed the painting in a corner of the living room, handling the canvas as if it were glass.
A twinge of remorse made Ellen say, “I brought it down here from your mom’s studio so I could catalogue it. The light’s better in here.”
Kristen’s eyebrows rose, her disbelief obvious. “There are skylights in Mom’s studio. The light is always better in there.”
Ellen sighed. “Fine. To be honest, I can’t stay in Julie’s studio. It feels…” The words knotted, and she had to take a breath to untangle them. “I’ve been avoiding that room, but somehow I ended up in there today and I—” She