Page 45 of Sometimes You Stay

An unexpected warmth filled her chest, and she shoved a buttery cracker into her mouth so she didn’t have to respond.

“And Finn too. My son Justin said Finn is glad you’ve stuck around.”

The cracker suddenly turned to sawdust, and a dry cough escaped as Cretia choked on it. Kathleen jumped to her feet, hurried to the display case, and returned in a moment with a cup of lemonade.

“Thanks,” Cretia wheezed, sipping the tart drink. It didn’t wash away what Kathleen had said, though. Finn was glad she was here. Presumably he’d said as much since she’d given him the black eye. It was possible he still felt that way.

Which made her heart pound a little harder and the rest of her want to scramble off the island.

She still had to go see Finn today, mostly to check on Bella. But also to borrow his computer and check on the arrival of her electronics.

As soon as they arrived, she could leave. Then she wouldn’t be tempted with things that weren’t for her.

“Tell me about yourself.” Kathleen pushed the cheesecloser. “My daughter-in-law says you’re internet famous. I don’t even know what that means.”

After spending the whole morning with Kathleen and consuming nearly her body weight in sharp cheddar that melted in her mouth, Cretia eventually visited Finn. She kept her stay short so that she couldn’t remember all the lovely things Kathleen told her that Finn had said about her.

They slipped into her mind a few times, though, and Finn caught her smiling. Twice. When he asked what she was thinking about, she mumbled something about the cheese and then begged to borrow his computer again.

The tracking page on her packages said simply “In Transit.” No delivery date listed yet. Maybe it just hadn’t been updated.

Finn said that wasn’t unusual on PEI, especially in the island’s small towns. Shipping might be a science, but delivery was an art. One that didn’t always go as planned.

As she strolled into the inn that evening, she saw the light on in the kitchen. Marie sat on a wooden stool at the island, hunched over paperwork spread before her.

As she had for several days, Cretia asked without much hope, “Anything arrive for me?”

Marie looked up with the same sad smile. “Not today. But there are leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

As though warmed-up lasagna could replace her tardy electronics.

“How long’s it been?” Marie asked, her head still bent over her work.

“Seven days.” Still within the delivery window. Far outsidethe realm of her preference. Pretty much an eternity for someone who hadn’t stayed in one city for more than six days in over four years.

“Sometimes it takes a while for things to make it up here. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

Cretia punched a button on the microwave, zapping her leftovers back to life. As she watched the plate spin, she tried not to remember the last time she’d had kitchen privileges in an actual home.

Sure, she’d stayed in hotel suites with kitchenettes upon occasion. And she’d warmed mugs of water to make tea or reheated restaurant leftovers. But those kitchens were cold and impersonal, the fridges empty. This room, even with its stainless-steel double ovens and commercial-grade refrigerator, felt like it belonged in a home.

Maybe because it was rarely empty and usually contained the joy of a boisterous family.

“How’s Finn doing?”

Cretia glanced over her shoulder, trying to get a read on if Marie was teasing her, but the other woman’s face was completely straight. “Fine. Good, I guess.”

“And his eye?”

“Healing.” She poured herself a glass of water and settled on the opposite side of the island.

Marie raised an eyebrow, and Cretia shoved an entire forkful into her mouth. If she was busy eating, she couldn’t answer the questions Marie hadn’t gotten around to asking. The ones she almost certainly would.

“What’d you do today?”

She quickly swallowed a bite. “I met Kathleen. Tried some of her cheese.”

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she?”

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