About Tomorrow... Page 7

  “Headed home?” he asked me.

  Yes, now I was thanks to him and Barbie. I nodded. “Just left work.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You got a job already?”

  My smile was no longer forced. Thoughts of my job made me smile and although blondie was giving me the stink eye now, I wanted to share the good news with someone. “Yes! The Islet at Portsmouth. I am assistant archivist.” I felt pride in my chest saying the words.

  Creed looked pleased. “Congratulations,” he said. “Are you going to celebrate?”

  I was but not the way I had planned. When I didn’t respond right away he continued. “Let’s go get drinks. It’s on me. Stormie mentioned wanting a martini from Luciandas. We were headed that way. Join us.”

  Stormie did not want me joining them. It was all over her face. It was not my job to tell Creed he was with a potential psycho, but I was tempted to push her just enough that she cracked. The negative energy was not what I wanted surrounding me tonight. I much preferred my glass of wine at home alone. Hopefully talking to my boyfriend on the phone.

  “Thanks but I’m expecting a call from Griff soon. I need to get home. Y’all enjoy your drinks,” I said with the sweetest smile I could muster and flashed it at Stormie before opening my car door.

  “Did she say y’all?” I heard Stormie ask, not even trying to whisper.

  Creed said nothing and I closed my door before more words could be spoken and cranked it up ready for some heat. With a final wave at the couple, I pulled onto the street and headed for home. Nothing was going to ruin the elation of joy I was floating on. Especially not evil Barbie.

  My cell phone rang, and my mother’s name appeared on the screen in my car telling me who was calling. Not who I wanted to talk to right now. I started to reach forward and touch decline but decided getting this call over with now was better than her continuing to call until I answered.

  “Hello,” I said feeling no enthusiasm at all.

  “Are you frozen yet? Ready to move back south?” she asked.

  “I’m keeping warm. Gran has fireplaces and I have plenty of wood.”

  Mother laughed. “You can light a fire in a fireplace? Seriously, Sailor. It’s a fabulous seventy-three degrees here today and sunny.”

  I was very serious and annoyed that mom would assume a fire would shut me down. Did she not know me better than that? No. She didn’t. She barely knew me at all. “Where are you these days? California?”

  “You know I’m talking about home,” she replied.

  Home. That was an interesting word. I never thought of the mansion I grew up in as a home. It was a showcase not a home. A place where nannies took care of me and my parents visited me. Nothing more.

  “I just got a job at an art museum,” I told her, not bothering to give her details. She wouldn’t want them.

  “Good luck getting to a job when the blizzards hit and you’re snowed in for weeks. It’s a frozen tundra there. I ran away as quickly as I could. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to live in the Northeast. You have everything you could want here including art museums.”

  I wasn’t sure why my mother wanted me in Nashville. It wasn’t as if we spent time together. I rarely saw her. She jetsetted all over the world with her new man or friends. My being there or here should not affect her at all. The woman did not miss me. I knew that much.

  “I like frozen tundras,” I replied simply.

  I could feel her rolling her eyes. “You know nothing of the cold there.”

  I knew I felt at home again since the last summer I spent with Gran. I didn’t say that because I learned a long time ago telling my mother the truth led to her having a complete ranting meltdown. She preferred the lies in which she spun for herself. I preferred to keep her happy and to keep my distance.

  “I’m almost at the house. I need to get the fire going and fix myself some dinner,” I told her, in hopes of ending this conversation.

  “Very well, go pretend to enjoy the cold,” she said. “Kiss kiss,” she added then hung up the phone.

  Esma “Honey” Hobbs Copeland Muldoon never said “bye” or “I love you” when ending a call and she always hung up first. I was just thankful she had hung up.

  Pulling into the driveway, I pulled under the small carport big enough for only one vehicle, but I knew I was going to be very thankful for it when the snow came. The house was going to be cold, and I grabbed the metal bucket beside the woodshed and filled it up before heading for the back door of the house. When I did things like this, it made me think of Gran doing these things. I’d never been here to see her in the winter, but I knew she’d done the same daily tasks. She would be happy to know I was here now doing them. The thought of that made the conversation with my mother seem unimportant. This was where I belonged.

  Pulling out the key to the house, I unlocked the door and picked the wood bucket up then went inside. It wasn’t as cold as I had feared, but it was chilly. I kept my coat on while I went to work heating things up. Once the kitchen stove was going, I stood in front of it while I opened the bottle of wine and poured myself a glass.

  I was still standing in front of the warmth when I poured myself a second glass then picked up an apple from the bowl on the table and took a bite. I hadn’t stopped for lunch today, and I wasn’t hungry, but the wine was getting to me. I wanted to be on time for work in the morning and not hungover. I would need more than an apple for that.

  I was almost warm enough to take off my coat when I finished my second glass of wine. Moving from the kitchen stove to the living room, I poked at the fire in the fireplace and then went to hang up my coat and scarf. Glancing over at my phone, I saw I hadn’t missed a call or text. Frowning, I decided I’d drink one more glass of wine with a turkey sandwich. No need to let Griff being too busy get me down.

  The simple task of making a sandwich and cutting up a cucumber for my dinner made me smile again. Either it was that or the wine. I wasn’t sure. I poured another glass then went to sit beside the stove. The warmth felt wonderful. I could easily drink enough so that I wouldn’t miss Griff.

  Today had been too good to let Griff being busy get me down. He’d call when he had a chance. He always did. I worried he wasn’t eating properly with all his studying and considered going to visit him just to buy some groceries. I wanted to see him too of course. He hadn’t invited me to visit whenever I wanted though. That reminder made me sad again, and with a sigh, I picked up my sandwich.

  Just before I took a bite, there was a knock at my door. Frowning, I set my sandwich down and looked at the front door. Who the heck was here this late? Getting back up, I went to open it.

  Creed stood there on the front stoop. His leather coat zipped closed and his right hand tucked into the pocket while his other hand held a paper bag. “Hey,” I said, unsure of his reason for being here and seriously hoping he hadn’t brought Stormie.

  He held up the bag. “I brought wine,” he said, as if that explained everything. I glanced around for any sign of the blonde.

  “Stormie?” I asked, not wanting to invite him in and have her pop out of the dark to follow.

  “She needed to get home,” he replied.

  I stepped back then and let him inside. Once he was in the house, I closed the door quickly to keep any more heat from escaping. “I’ve already opened a bottle of wine if you want a glass,” I told him and headed toward the kitchen. Seeing my sandwich on the table reminded me of my meal. “Are you hungry? I didn’t cook but I have sandwich supplies.”

  I heard a low chuckle. “I’m good for now,” he said, as he took the bottle of wine he brought out of the bag and placed it on the bar.

  I sat back down in the chair beside the fire and took a sip from my glass.

  “Glasses?” he asked me and I realized I had been in a hurry to get warm I had forgotten about getting him a glass for his wine.<
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  “Sorry,” I said and pointed at the cabinet directly across from him. “In there.”

  He got his glass and walked over to the table to sit down and pour himself a glass from the open bottle in front of me. “Tell me about your job,” he said, leaning back in the chair. He hadn’t taken his coat off. I was about to offer to take it but figured he knew where the coatrack was, so he must still be warming up.

  I finished the bite of sandwich in my mouth then beamed at the chance to talk about my new job with someone who wanted to listen. “It’s perfect. I didn’t expect to get such an amazing position when I went in this morning. I thought I was interviewing for a job that would be more along the lines of errand girl. I have a degree, but my list of qualifications stops there. This is my first real job. Anyway, lucky for me, the reason the position was available and they were willing to interview someone with such limited experience is because the Archivist, Albert, isn’t the easiest guy to work under. They can’t keep an assistant for him. He runs them off. However, Albert has nothing on Honey. I was raised to deal with difficult. Besides Albert isn’t that bad. He’s demanding, sure, and you better listen when he speaks because if you don’t hear him the first time, you’re screwed. He doesn’t like being asked to repeat himself.”

  I stopped to take a drink of my wine and Creed looked like he was enjoying his glass as well as my description of my new job. So I continued.

  “Today he was uncrating a new exhibit from Italy. There were pieces I had studied but never seen, except one. I saw it when I went to visit my father in Rome one time. I knew the pieces and my knowledge and art nerdiness finally paid off. Albert warmed to me before the day was over. He didn’t have to tell me names of the artwork or go into detail over how to uncrate them. We worked well together in the silence. I felt like I was in a dream most of the day.”

  I finally stopped and just smiled at how ridiculous I must sound to someone who wasn’t obsessed with art the way I was.

  Creed set his glass down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Albert would be an idiot to lose you. I’m happy you got your dream job. Especially here in Portsmouth. Your Gran would be proud of you.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. Gran would be thrilled over my new job. She would have made me a massive dinner complete with vegan mac and cheese. Tears stung my eyes at the thought, and I blinked them back. It was embarrassing to cry over something like that now.

  “I’m sure Griff is happy you found a job you love so quickly,” Creed said, reminding me that I had a boyfriend who still hadn’t texted or called me back.

  Frowning, I picked up my wine and took another drink. I was sharing my good news and celebrating over drinks with Creed. Not Griff. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I set my glass back down onto the table gently and lifted my gaze to meet Creed’s. “Yeah, he’s thrilled,” I said, instead of admitting he hadn’t called me back yet.

  Creed lifted the almost empty bottle of wine. “Want the last little bit? I can open the bottle I brought.”

  As tempting as drinking my sadness away over Griff not calling was, I shook my head no. “I have had too much already. You can have it.”

  He didn’t question that and poured the rest into his glass. It was so odd seeing him at Gran’s table; yet at the same time, we had sat here hundreds of times before. We had been kids excited for her cookies, we had been awkward preteens unable to stop looking at each other, and we had been teens in love determined to spend every moment we had of the summer together. Our history was deep, and although that meant something, there was still the darkness at the end. The pain came with it. Now he was here and I didn’t know why.

  “Why did you come back, Creed?” I asked him. I hadn’t the last time he stopped by, but now I wanted to know.

  “While I finish up my Master’s in Architecture, I am lucky enough to be working with a group of architects that are restoring the Frontsman Lighthouse, just off the coast in Portsmouth.”

  That was not what I was expecting but then it made sense. Architecture fit Creed. He’d always been interested in old buildings and the history in New England.

  “That sounds amazing,” I told him.

  He nodded. “It’s pretty damn cool.”

  “I thought you were going to be in Boston this week,” I said, remembering he had told me as much Sunday when he stopped by.

  He shrugged. “Things came up here and I reworked my schedule.”

  We sat there a moment and I wanted to ask him more questions. I wanted to know all about how he decided on architecture. I enjoyed having him here. I enjoyed it all too much. A warning bell went off in my head. This could lead to nothing good. I was missing Griff and I didn’t need to fill that void with Creed.

  “I’ve got an early morning tomorrow and I want to do some reading on the exhibit we are working on. I have to stay ahead of Albert and not let him intimidate me.” That was the truth. I needed to do both those things but I also needed Creed out of my Gran’s house. Having him here messed with my head in ways I didn’t want it messed with. Creed was my past.

  He didn’t question it. Instead, he stood up and finished his glass of wine then walked over and set it in the sink. “You keep the bottle I brought. Might need it after another day with Albert tomorrow,” he said then winked at me.

  I stood up and followed him to the living room. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t want to be alone after all it seems,” I told him.

  He turned back to look at me with his hand on the doorknob. “I wanted to hear about your job and you gave me a good reason to send Stormie home,” he said with a smirk. “Goodnight, Sailor Moon,” he added then opened the door and stepped outside.

  He hadn’t called me Sailor Moon since I was sixteen years old. The emotions that came with that memory were so strong I found it difficult to respond. Words clogged in my throat along with the lump that had formed. He wasn’t the only one who had called me Sailor Moon. Cora had called me that too when she was teasing me about her brother. Those memories were bittersweet and it had been a long time since I let them in.

  “Goodnight,” I managed to say.

  He gave me a nod and headed into the darkness toward his silver Jeep.

  twelve

  November 7, 2019

  It took Griff twenty-four hours and three minutes to call me back. He apologized profusely saying he had a test to study for and then spent the next ten minutes telling me about his class, the questions on the test, how important it was, and in the end, the grade he’d made. When he was done, he’d forgotten about my new job and asked me what I had been up to.

  I knew he was burdened with classes and making the grade, so I overlooked it and repeated the fact I had gotten a job and told him about it. However, it wasn’t until we hung up after a less than fifteen-minute conversation that I realized I hadn’t gone into detail about Albert or the exhibit the way I had with Creed. I didn’t want it to bother me but it did.

  Creed had more time and he didn’t have the weight of med school on his shoulders. I couldn’t compare his desire to listen to me ramble on about my new job to the limited time that Griff had. That wasn’t fair. Just like it wasn’t fair for me to ask Griff when he would be here to spend the weekend.

  He didn’t mention it and I didn’t ask. Which meant he wasn’t coming. I could tell by the tone of his voice and the way he was talking about needing to write a paper that he had no time to come up here to see me. I wouldn’t let that get to me. Albert had informed me we’d be closed on the weekends during the next four months, except for a couple weekends in December when Portsmouth had another round of tourists. I would come up with something else to do over the weekend. Maybe I should clean. I also had a few boxes left to unpack.

  Today was Thursday, though, and I wouldn’t worry about that now. Besides, Griff may still call this evening or tomorrow with plans of coming to visit. I could al
so go visit him. Tonight I would open up the wine that Creed had brought me the other night and watch Hallmark Christmas movies. No thoughts of Griff or going to see him. That could wait. Today had been a great one at work and we had almost unfinished uncrating the exhibit. I was excited about the coming week when we would prepare for opening the exhibit to the public.

  When I pulled into my driveway, a silver Jeep was already parked there and the engine was running. Exhaust from the heater gave that away. I parked under the carport and wrapped my scarf around my neck, before opening the car door and stepping out. Creed was already out of his Jeep standing in front of it, waiting on me.

  “Hey,” I said more pleased than I should be to see him. It was hard to get lonely when he kept showing up.

  “Come with me,” he said with a grin on his face. I wasn’t sure any female would say no to Creed Sullivan when he told them to come with him. So, I didn’t feel guilty when I nodded and asked no questions before heading to the passenger side of his Jeep.

  When we were both inside the warmth I buckled up the looked at him. “Where are we going?” I asked him.

  “Do you remember Fleur Young?” he asked me.

  How could I forget? Fleur was in love with Creed when we were kids. One summer when I had returned, they were an item although it didn’t last. My returning to Portsmouth had ended it quickly. Creed had broken up with Fleur and we had begun our whatever it was when we were fifteen. Fleur tried to make my life hell when she got the chance.

  “Uh, yes. I recall Fleur,” I said the words a little too sourly.

  Creed chuckled and I cut my eyes at him. “It’s been awhile but I don’t think Fleur wants to rehash old times with me. We have no old times worth speaking of,” I told him.

  His crooked grin was so damn sexy I had to look away from him. Why did the man have to get better with age? He had been beautiful enough when we were teenagers. Just ask freaking Fleur Young about it.