The Reluctant Nude - Meg Maguire [45]
“Well…” Rachel trailed off as a waiter came to fill their water glasses and take their drink orders. “There is one thing.”
Fallon leaned forward on the table, intuition already twisting her stomach into a knot. “What?”
Rachel reached for her purse and rifled through the contents for a moment. She did something to her hand then held it up. A small diamond winked from her ring finger.
“Oh my God!”
Rachel nodded, smiling so wide it looked painful.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fallon reached over to dutifully manhandle her best friend’s wrist for a better look. “When did Josh ask?”
“A little over a week ago. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
Fallon sat back against her chair, giddy with fear and near-unconditional happiness. “Wow. So, do you know when? You know, the wedding?”
“A while. I mean, there’s that middle step missing, still.”
Fallon nodded. Rachel had already passed on a couple of invitations from Josh to move in. She wouldn’t be able to put it off much longer now.
“Wow,” Fallon said again. “When do think you’ll move out?”
“Not for a while—don’t worry.” Rachel’s spirited reassurance made it clear she understood how much Fallon was dreading this inevitability. “I told him I need plenty of time for us to figure out the house. You know, to sell it or for you to find a renter you like or…”
“Wow. Well, that is awesome. That’s the awesomest thing I’ve heard in months. Lunch is on me, then.”
“No, this is your early birthday lunch, Madam Unpaid Leave of Absence. I insist.” A deep yawn eclipsed Rachel’s smile. The adrenaline of the announcement seemed to have tipped her over the edge into exhaustion. “Plus, just wait until you’re a maid of honor. I need to get busy kissing your ass, pronto.”
“Yeah. Wow.” Fallon fell silent. She tried to study the menu but her panic blurred the words. She’d lived with Rachel for nearly four years now, the longest she’d ever lived in any one place, ever in her life. She felt like her world was being tipped upside-down like a snow globe and shaken.
Being here in the calm and quiet of Nova Scotia made her dread the thought of returning to New York, now that the one thing that made the chaos of living there bearable was going away. Having to drive in that hateful traffic, to fight day in and day out with assholes like Donald Forrester and lose those battles more often than not…
Her heart ached suddenly. It ached in advance, for how she’d miss this place once she left. Homesickness, in reverse. Withdrawal.
Max glanced at the clock on his oven and frowned. Five forty. Who would be ringing his bell at five forty?
He found Fallon on his doorstep, looking pale.
“Hello. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” He held the door open but she didn’t come in.
“Hey. I was hoping I could borrow your beach…?” She smiled halfheartedly.
“Of course. Where is your friend?”
“Asleep. She drove all night to get here and she’s down for the count now, back at my cottage.”
“Well, please, use my beach. Would you like a towel or a blanket?”
“Yeah, sure. That’d be good.” She nodded in a way that told Max she wasn’t far from tears.
“Come in. I’ll find you something.” He closed the door behind them and watched her from the corner of his eye as he dug an old blanket out of a cupboard. He’d never seen her look this fragile before.
“Can you give me a couple of minutes?” he asked.
“For what?”
“You’ll see.” He smiled at her, keeping his flirtation safely in check.
“I’m not really in the mood for guessing games tonight.”
“Sorry, but this is the price of using of my beach.”
She nodded, seeming to resign herself to him.
“Doesn’t your cottage have a beach?” He pulled a saucepan from the fridge and flipped a burner on beneath it.
“No, just a dock. No sand.”
“Well, you are welcome to all the sand you find out there.”
“Thanks.”
A few minutes later Max filled a Thermos with chowder and grabbed a camp lantern from a shelf, tossing the blanket to Fallon. “Let’s go.”
“Oh,” she said, hesitating. “I’m sorry. I meant I wanted to be alone.”
“I know. But I’ll walk you down.” He nodded in