almost a year.” She pulled her cream-colored wool coat from the closet. “Ean, you needed to come home for you, not for me. And that’s fine. This is your home.”
Really? It doesn’t feel that way anymore. “I don’t like it that you’re working.” He sighed. “Or dating.”
Doreen shrugged into her coat. “I can tell. But I’ve earned the right to make my own decisions.”
“Am I supposed to stand aside even if I think you’re making a mistake, several of them?”
Doreen settled the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Over the years, I haven’t agreed with all of your choices, either. I didn’t think you should have accepted the job with the law firm in New York, but I knew it was what you wanted.”
“But I—”
“And it may surprise you to know that Ramona isn’t my first choice for you or my second. Or my tenth. But I respected your right to make your own decision. Are you going to deny me the same respect?”
Ean dragged a hand over his hair. “My situation was different. Your grief over losing Dad could be affecting your decision making.”
There was concern in Doreen’s eyes as she searched Ean’s features. “Has your grief affected your decision making?”
“No.”
“Neither has mine.”
“But you were his wife.”
Doreen sighed. Her gaze dropped to the tiled floor. “And we were together for more than forty years. Still, I considered my options before I made my decisions. These aren’t whims. They’re choices. Mine.”
Ean had run out of arguments. He was at a loss. “All right, Mom. I’ll respect that.”
Doreen stepped forward, cupped the right side of Ean’s face with one hand and kissed his left cheek. “You don’t have a choice. Have a nice day.” With those words, she left for work.
Ean stared at the closed front door. This homecoming wasn’t going at all the way he’d imagined. Had he made a mistake coming back to Trinity Falls?
Megan looked up from her grandparents’ headstones Thursday afternoon. In the distance, a couple of rows away, she saw a solitary mourner standing with his head bowed before a grave site. Ean.
He was so still. Megan hesitated. She didn’t want to intrude on his private time, but she sensed his thoughts were troubled. She lowered her gaze to her grandparents’ headstones again and silently said good-bye.
She wanted to leave. She actually started to leave. But her steps drew her closer to Ean. “Would you rather be alone?”
He looked up, startled. “I didn’t hear you.”
Megan nodded over her shoulder toward the headstones that were imprinted on her heart. “Today would have been my grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary.”
Ean returned her smile. “I’m sure they’re celebrating together.”
The warmth of his smile and the sincerity of his words stole her breath. Megan swallowed to dislodge the lump in her throat.
“I think so, too.” She was uncomfortable with the emotion he may have heard in her voice. “Is today a special occasion for your father?”
She read again his father’s headstone: Paul Fever, 1948 to 2013, Loving Husband and Father.
His expression grew somber. “I’m just paying my respects.”
It was more than that. Megan heard it in his taut tone. He sounded lost. She fisted her hands deeper into her navy blue winter coat to keep from touching him. That was Ramona’s prerogative.
“Your father was well liked and well respected in the community.”
Ean returned his attention to his father’s headstone. “Everything seems different with him gone.”
“Everything changed for me when my grandparents died, too.”
“I didn’t expect my mother to change as well. I barely recognize her anymore.” He caught her gaze. “You hired her to run the bakery in your bookstore.”
Megan heard the accusation in his words. “Your parents had been high school sweethearts. Your father’s death left your mother devastated.”
“You don’t have to tell me how my mother felt. I knew she was grieving.” Ean’s voice was rough. Was it grief, guilt, shame—all of the above?
“I’m certain Doreen put on a brave face for you. She’s your mother. She wouldn’t want you to worry about her. But those of us who saw her every day could tell she was hurting. She needed a distraction. I thought Books and Bakery could help.”
Ean rubbed his eyes. “Why didn’t someone call me? I would have come home.”
“For how long? Your work schedule only allowed you a few days off at a time. Your mother needed more than that.”
Ean inhaled a sharp breath. Megan’s words hit him like a sucker punch. “I’m home now.”
“And Doreen is very happy about that.”
Ean grunted. “Really? I think I may be cramping her style. I’m sure you know she’s dating.”
“Coach George. You like him.”
“As my coach, not as my mother’s boyfriend.”
“It’s a good thing your mother doesn’t need your approval.”
Ean flashed back to the words his mother had spoken that morning.
“It may surprise you to know that Ramona wasn’t my first choice for you or my second. Or my tenth. But I respected your right to make your own decision. Are you going to deny me the same respect?”
He scowled. Megan had given his mother a job. “Did you encourage her to start dating?”
“Your mother and Coach George?” Her full lips twitched as though she battled a smile. Unnecessary amusement danced in her chocolate eyes.
Ean didn’t share her humor. “How well does she even know him?”
“They’ve known each other since you were in high school.”
He snorted. “Time doesn’t determine how well you know a person.”
She had the nerve to laugh. “Then it’s a good thing you’ve come home, since you’re such a stellar judge of character.”
Ean didn’t have a response. He wondered about the calm he found in Megan’s company. Every time he tried to strike out, she found the words to defuse his pain and confusion. How was she able to do that?
He studied his father’s headstone. “Did my mother tell you we argued this morning?”
“No.
