A Haven on the Bay - Nicole Ellis Page 0,52

and moved closer to her, rubbing his hand lightly across her back. His touch was warm and comforting, but at the same time threatened to break through her outward composure. “Is it only your friend’s death, or is there something more?”

She didn’t know how to answer him. It was Diana’s death, compounded by the nagging feeling that she wasn’t living her own life to the fullest. After existing in a constant state of fear that the cancer was going to steal dozens of years from her life, the scans last spring had come back clean. At that point, she’d started to breathe easier, finally allowing herself to believe that she had a future. Thinking about what lay ahead had come with its own issues.

For the last few decades, she’d happily embraced her role as a mother, and later, a business owner. The two years following her cancer diagnosis had been the first time in a while that she’d stepped off of the crazy merry-go-round of life and experienced a significant amount of downtime. Since then, she’d been taking stock of what was truly important to her. Those ruminations had screeched to a halt when Libby’s financial situation changed and she’d needed their catering company to take on more jobs.

Debbie looked up at her husband of thirty-nine years, hope leaping to the surface. “Can we take a trip to Italy?” she asked impulsively. “Maybe next spring, for our fortieth anniversary? I hear the countryside is gorgeous in the spring.”

He leaned back in his chair to process her request. When he finally spoke, the words came out slowly, as though he were pushing them through a vat of molasses. “I don’t know if I can get the time off for an international vacation. Things have been hectic lately at work.” He studied her face intently and she knew he didn’t want to disappoint her. Still, it was the same thing he’d told every time she asked.

She stared at him, biting her lower lip. Would his answer ever change? “Things are always crazy at your work. We haven’t taken a long vacation in years.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Please, Peter. This is important to me.”

He softened, pulling her close and kissing her temple. She melted against him, feeling so emotionally fragile that she might collapse into a puddle of tears at any minute. Seeing the sights of Italy had long been a dream of hers, but now it had become a symbol for everything she wanted to do with the time she had left on earth.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he whispered into her hair. He held her close for a few minutes.

When she felt stronger, she sniffled, and sat up. “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I do want to take a nice vacation with you, but I know I sound crazy.” Here she was, a mature woman in her early sixties, and she was acting like a teenager who hadn’t received the car she’d begged for.

“You don’t sound crazy.” He cupped her chin and gently kissed her lips. “I don’t know what’s going on either, but we’ll work it out together. I want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

She hiccupped a little as she tried to stem the flow of tears, whispering, “I know.” She dabbed at her eyes with her unused table napkin. “But what if even I don’t know what I want?”

He met her gaze, staring deeply into her eyes as he spoke. “I think you need to figure out what makes you happy and go for it. You’ve spent so many years of your life trying to make other people happy. You deserve a chance to find that happiness for yourself, even if it means letting other people down.” He pushed his chair back and reached for her hands, squeezing them between his own in a gesture that always comforted her.

Libby. Deep down, Debbie knew she had to tell Libby that she couldn’t continue working so many hours in the catering kitchen. The extra workload was causing her too much stress. But who could she trust to help? She’d spent so many years building the business’s reputation, and although she knew Libby could manage the company’s day-to-day operations, she’d need consistent help with the actual catering jobs. Unfortunately, Debbie didn’t know anyone who fit the bill and was available.

She let out a slow, deep exhale, hoping it would give her much-needed clarity. “Libby needs the