Page 165 of Never Forever

Mom and Dad could not keep their hands off each other.

They were both in their fifties now and still looked at each other like they couldn’t wait to finally be alone at the end of a long night.

Having just moved home to hide and lick my wounds after what could only be described as a life crushing blow, it always took my breath away when I saw my parents together.

This intangible beautiful thing that seemed so real, you could reach out and touch it.

Love. True, solid love.

Once upon a time I thought I had that same kind of love. I’d been absolutely convinced I had what my parents had. And I banked everything on it.

Only it turned out to be an illusion. Or, in my case, maybe a delusion. Which was par for the course in my life.

I made my way through the throngs of townies, saying hi to old class mates and teachers. Kids I used to babysit. Braced, always braced for someone to pull me close and ask if I wasokay? If it wastrue?

I got at the end of one of the lines for the food trucks. It didn’t matter which one, they all rocked. Jolie’s Lobster Fest, Birdie’s Falafels, and Antony’s Shrimp Tacos, were all delicious.

None of them needed to be cooking up street food for the Calico Cove Fall Festival. Jolie’sPetite IIIhad earned a Michelin star. Antony and Birdie’s new place in New York had just earned its third star. The three of them were in a good-naturedcompetition to out cook each other and Calico Cove was spoiled for amazing food.

All their kids were working the registers. Julian was in Antony’s truck and Madelyn was helping Birdie.

I didn’t think about their other son. Or at least I tried not to every single day.

Nick.

Nope. Not thinking about him.

“Hey, Nora, you going to do the three-legged race this year?”

I turned to find Conner Dumont behind me. He was Jackson and Lola Dumont’s oldest, which technically made him a cousin, except we weren’t biologically related.

“Conner!” I cried and hugged him. “Wow, you’ve gotten taller.”

The scrawny kid with bad skin had gotten…hot.

“It happens,” he said with a shrug.

“How’s school?” I asked, ignoring the three-legged race question. Conner was pre-med at Boston University and had big plans to come back to town and open up a family practice.

“Good.” Conner grinned, and that dimple in his cheek peeked out. “Busy. I’m just down for the weekend to help Dad clean out the cottages he and Mom just bought. He gave me some time off for good behavior so I figured I would check out the festival. How are you doing?” He lowered his voice and stepped forward.

No. No,I thought.Don’t ask. Not here.

“I mean after everything that happened…” he whispered and then winced. “I’m surprised you-”

“Yeah, I’m good. So good.” I said quickly. Too quickly. My voice was climbing to an octave only birds and dogs could hear. And my hands? I’d lost control of them. I looked like I was trying to signal planes.

Get a grip, Nora.

“Better than ever, really. Nothing to see here. Ha! You know, actually I think I want sweet instead of savory. I’m going to hit up the Bobette’s. Have a good festival.”

He nodded and smiled tightly. I refused to see the sympathy in his face. I refused to see it in anyone’s face. Yes, I was giving my very sweet cousin the brush off but I’d been doing that with every well-meaning family member since I’d been back.

They were all determined to talk aboutTHE INCIDENT.

I was determined not to talk aboutTHE INCIDENT.

I got out of line and crossed the town square, avoiding all the activities set up on its green grass. The face-painting, the three-legged race. The egg toss. The cake walk. Madame Za, who’d just turned eighty, was still telling fortunes to anyone who would listen.

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