Page 60 of The Love Dose
Jenny must see the look on my face. “Oh, I mean, that was a lifetime ago. I have grown kids and a grandchild on the way. I found my happiness. My only point is that Calvin is a giver and sometimes it’s hard for him to receive. If you love him, don’t let him go. If for no other reason thanheneeds love. Teach him that it’s okay to be on the receiving end sometimes.”
I’m speechless. Jenny is a total stranger, offering a stream of unsolicited advice about my love life with her ex. And yet, I feel an unexpected sense of appreciation. She’s not being manipulative, only trying to help an old flame find joy.
I thank her and head out, an unplanned bag of donuts in hand. My mind is stuck on Jenny’s words. She called me, ‘the right one.’ Was that Pearl’s take or Calvin’s?
It’s all I can think about on the chilly walk back home.
I spendmost of the remaining days following the same routine, adding in the occasional new activity. I even started taking out the snowmobile, impressed with myself for learning how to weave through the forested trails on my own.
I am meeting the friendly locals. Like the helpful librarian who recommended a romance I devoured; and Jenny who sneaks an extra chocolate cream into my order when she thinks I’m not looking. Surely the long walks are beneficial, balancing out the sugar intake but I’ve given up counting calories and by some brain hijack, I don’t care.
Thanks to Aunt Pearl who stopped by, I’m baking for the first time in my life. By some unspoken understanding, neither one of us mentioned Calvin or Chacha. Instead, we made an apple crumble I’m extremely proud of, even if it looks less like a dessert and more like a crime scene involving fruit.
She suggested I try needlepoint. Now I’m starting a pillow with a canvas I bought in town. Who knew stabbing fabric with a needle could be so therapeutic?
My life went from erratic and fast-paced to slow and meditative. It’s almost like the universe is on reset after the storm. Things are blessedly calm.
I now have time to think about what I’ve neglected for too long. How Bernard’s death affected me.
I miss him.
He jokingly called me his trophy wife. Sure, I met him in his twilight years but he was my rock. He was the Michael Douglas to my Catherine Zeta Jones. If I was dark and exotic looking.
Bernard’s kids are convinced I married their father for his money, set on fleecing them out of their full inheritance. It’s emotional, not logical. In any scenario, they would get the bulk of Bernard’s estate. But toss in loyalty to their mom and we have the current powder keg.
I sigh deeply. Tomorrow, my week in Sugarbush Falls will be over. I need to face the music and not only with my attorney.
I park the snowmobile in the driveway, take off the helmet, and immediately spot man-size shoe troughs in the snow in front of the house. Someone is here.
I grab the packages, and excited, trudge across the lawn to the front door. Maybe Calvin is back, maybe he had a change of heart. I let myself in and stop cold.
Sitting on the sofa, holding Rezy in his lap, is my chauffeur.
I don’t bother askingPaul how he got inside. I didn’t lock up. I peel off my coat, set down the bags and kick off the boots. “Fancy meeting you here.”
He smiles.
“Where’s the car?”
“Round back.”
I take a seat across from him, watching as Rezy snuggles deeper into Paul's lap. “Where’s this little guy from?” he asks, petting the pup.
I've tried everything I can think of to find Rezy's owner. No luck. Or better said,myluck. Rezy has won me over, big time.
“I found him outside in the blizzard. His name is Rezy, short for resilient.”
We sit quietly for a beat, Paul not filling me in.
“Why are you here?” I prompt.
“To check on you.”
He says it as if driving across much of New England is an everyday occurrence.
No use in asking how he found me. Paul is an extremely resourceful man who will never reveal his sources. Besides, I already know. Sam was adamant about knowing my location and having Calvin looked into. The two are in cahoots.
He goes on. “The phones were down . . . and I made a promise.”
