wedged between two fingers. The butt hit the wooden porch, and Bruce hurriedly stomped it out before the burning ash started a fire.
Hayley’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Bruce!”
“I know, I know, please, Hayley, no lectures tonight.”
“When did you start smoking again?”
“I don’t know. Two, maybe three months ago. I don’t really remember exactly when I started.”
“But you were doing so well. How long has it been?”
“I quit cold turkey just about nine years ago.”
“What happened?”
Bruce shrugged. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and feeling a bit overwhelmed, and one day I was sitting in my office, and I had this craving I just couldn’t shake, so I got in my car and drove over to the Big Apple and bought a pack, and just started up again.”
“Well, the only recent big change in your life has been marrying me . . . Oh God!” Hayley cried.
Bruce chuckled. “It’s not you, Hayley.”
“Then what?”
“It’s Sal. He’s been riding me hard at work lately.”
“Why?”
Bruce absentmindedly pulled a half pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his sweatpants and reached for one, but then realizing Hayley was still watching, decided against lighting it and stuffed it back inside the pack.
He looked up at Hayley gravely. “Circulation’s been down. The paper’s not doing as well as it should be. So Sal’s been putting the pressure on me to cover more stories.”
“Well, there are only so many crimes in Bar Harbor you can write about.”
“Exactly. He wants me to expand my coverage. To go outside the county, follow stories in Bangor, Waterville, Augusta, all the way down to Portland.”
“I don’t understand. All of those places have their own newspapers.”
“I know, but he wants me to be more competitive, make more of a name for myself. Funny thing is, down in Boston I was doing just that. But I didn’t like the constant stress and cutthroat competition of big-city reporting, which is a big reason why I moved back home and got a gig here at the local small-time paper.”
“Bruce, why haven’t you told me this before?”
“I didn’t want to stress you out too.”
“You should have said something. And you don’t have to worry about me starting to smoke! I find it totally disgusting!”
“Believe me, I’m aware of that fact. Look, we all handle our problems in different ways, which is why when you’re stressed you call Liddy and Mona to meet you at your brother’s bar to decompress with a cocktail.”
Hayley couldn’t argue with him. He had a strong point. Everyone had their vices and so she decided to just blow past it. “So what are you going to do?”
Bruce shook his head solemnly. “I have no idea. But there are only so many hours in the day, my workload has basically more than doubled, and I’ve been feeling the heat. Sal keeps hinting that if I can’t handle it, he’ll find somebody younger and hungrier who can.”
“Sal would never fire you,” Hayley said.
“People always say that right before somebody gets fired.”
He was right.
Hayley stepped forward and hugged him. He held her tightly and then kissed her gently on the forehead. She nuzzled her face in Bruce’s chest as he stared back up at the beautiful moon, probably in an effort to keep himself from lighting up again.
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out,” he muttered.
“Just do me a favor. I know you’re going through a lot, but please try to quit again because—”
Bruce lovingly patted her back. “I know. Because we just got married and you want to have me around for a while.”
Hayley hesitated before answering. “Yes.”
Bruce pulled away and looked her straight in the eye. “Was that what you were going to say?”
Hayley nodded and said quickly, “Yes.”
“You’re lying. I can tell,” Bruce said. “What were you really going to say?”
She hesitated again.
“Hayley...”
“I just hate kissing guys with smoker’s breath.”
Bruce laughed and then playfully kissed her all over her face as she feigned struggling to get him to stop just as Leroy scampered up the wooden steps, ready to go back inside.
Chapter 4
Hayley stood inside the terminal of the Hancock County Bar Harbor Airport mesmerized by the Cape Air Cessna 402 arriving from Boston that gently touched down on the runway. She could feel the excitement building inside her as she knew her daughter, Gemma, along with Gemma’s boyfriend, Conner Gibson, were among the passengers onboard. Their originating flight from LaGuardia in New York had left late so there had been a question as to whether or not they would actually make their connection, but a small mechanical issue kept their Bar Harbor–bound flight grounded a few extra minutes, allowing them enough time to race from Terminal B to Gate 27 in Terminal C, according to a text from Gemma once she was strapped in her seat and the plane was ready for takeoff.
Sure enough, as the door opened, the stairs were lowered, and the nine passengers began to debark; first off was Gemma, looking healthy and radiant, followed by Conner. It was a windy afternoon and Gemma’s silky blond hair was blowing in all kinds of directions as Conner took her hand and they quickly made their way inside.
Hayley headed to baggage claim, where she had agreed to meet up with them. Gemma spotted her first and ran over to the conveyor belt where her mother eagerly waited for them.
“I honestly didn’t think we were going to make it!” Gemma cried, hugging her mother tightly.
“You look beautiful,” Hayley marveled as she stepped back to get a good look at her gorgeous daughter.
Gemma shyly patted down her windswept hair. “No, I don’t. I look awful. It’s been such a long day.”
Conner put an arm around her. “She’s terrible at accepting compliments. I’ve practically given up trying.”
“You’re looking good too, Conner,” Hayley said with a welcoming smile.
Conner was an actor, but not the scraggly, greasy-haired method type, more the impossibly handsome, put-together, could be in a toothpaste commercial type. Gemma would always joke that he was prettier than she was. Conner would wince
