Homecoming Read Online Free PDF Page B

please.
    “How much does the lobster buoy go for?”
    “Four fifty.”
    She almost dropped it. “Four hundred and fifty dollars?”
    He winced as he took it back. “It takes me at least twenty hours labor for this. That’s not including materials.” He tapped the buoy. “These are antique. Not that plastic stuff they use now.”
    “Hey,” she said, placing a hand on his back. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I just can’t imagine people having that kind of money to spend on a lamp.” Gripping his heavy flannel shirt, she pushed him a bit. “And you’re not going to give me something that costs four hundred and fifty dollars!”
    She poked around the shop, finally holding up a wrought iron toilet paper holder. “What do you charge for this?”
    “Fifty bucks,” he said, his voice reflecting uncertainty.
    “Can I buy it? It’ll fit perfectly in my bathroom.”
    “Take it. Please,” he said, almost begging.
    “Deal.” She slipped the piece into her coat pocket. “Next time, I’m going to take the forge if you skip out on me.”
    He looked like he thought she was serious, and it dawned on her that despite being invited back, things might not have changed a bit. “Are we going to be able to be friends again?”
    He shoved his hands in his pockets, the epitome of indecision. Thank god he’d changed his mind about being an accountant. He’d still be trying to close the books from his first year in practice. “I think so. I hope so. Can we see how things go?”
    “Yeah. No problem.” Jill put her arms around him and gave him a brief hug. “But I’m going to reestablish a relationship with your mom. I promised I would, and I always keep my promises.”
    “We both promised we’d always be best friends,” he said, looking at her with true pain in his eyes.
    “Maybe we will be,” she said, cuffing him on the chin. “I’m ready when you are.”
     
    ***
     
    The first of May turned out to be a perfect day for a wedding. Jill stood on a slight incline next to a gorgeous, turn-of-the-century building they called a barn. This barn, built to house coaches and wagons, was beautifully shingled and roofed with copper, now turned green with age.
    Jill turned to watch her co-worker, the VP of Legal Affairs, shed her super-serious work demeanor to dance like a woman possessed. Co-workers’ weddings were often revelatory, and this one was going according to form.
    Cari Hunt, one of Jill’s employees, sidled up next to her. “Did you have any idea Karina could dance?”
    “I had no idea she could smile, much less dance.”
    “Too true,” Cari agreed. “I think she might have had one too many glasses of champagne.”
    “No such thing at your wedding.” Jill held her flute up. “But I’m stopping at two. I’ve never been an afternoon drinker.”
    Cari was avidly watching the dance floor, but she narrowed her eyes and said, “I can hit any afternoon pretty hard if I’m with a group. But then I go to sleep by about seven. No matter where I am,” she added, laughing. “My friends almost left me on an island last summer when I was so trashed they couldn’t wake me.”
    “You can still get away with that,” Jill said. “When you do that in your forties, don’t be surprised if your nearest and dearest show up for an intervention.”
    Cari’s amused expression showed she was fairly sure she was never going to age. “I’ve got plenty of time left to be a screwup.”
    Jill noticed that her speech was less crisp than normal. And admitting to your boss that you were a screwup was never a great idea. To save the kid from further indicting herself, she said, “I need to find the bathroom. Catch you later.”
    “If you’re not gonna finish that champagne…”
    Clutching the flute to her chest, Jill waved her off and walked towards the barn, stopping abruptly when she got close. Lizzie Davis was standing by the entrance, surrounded by a small group of people, all late middle-aged, all prosperous