Page 4 of Tender Heart
She is kindly telling me this is it. My ultimatum, delivered in a way that only Livvy can.
Livvy’s version of tough love.
“This is my last chance?” I repeat.
“Last one, hon.”
“Okay.” I swallow and tears well. “What if I can’t?” I whisper.
“Nope, we are not going there. In fact, I had an inkling you might say that. So, I have a proposition for you.”
What on earth? What could she possibly offer that would shift me out of this funk I’ve been in?
“Do I have a choice?”
She sighs. “At this point, no, not really.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sending you away to finish this book. I can buy you another nine months to get it done. Not a day more. Since you need peace and quiet and not this bustling city, I have made arrangements for you to stay in a quiet little cottage all on your own. No noise. No distractions. Simply lots of writing. And”—her hand reaches over the desk—“what I think you need the most. Healing.”
Her hand squeezes mine. The bridge of my nose prickles, and I scrunch it up, unable to respond. Livvy’s plan is sensible. It’s the logical thing to do—hide away and write my book. Move on with my life. I mean, it’s not that I haven’t tried to. Really, I have. But I’ve lived here all my life, and everything reminds me of my life before the accident. Maybe a change is what I need.
Allie’s been trying to get me to do this very thing for years.
I know I should. One moment in time shouldn’t define me like it does. I glance at Livvy’s frame-lined shelves. Two people, huddled together for the camera in front of magnificent places... An island. The same two people who were in the frame I saw earlier. I drag my gaze back to my ever-patient editor. “Okay, when do I leave?”
Livvy smiles at me, glancing at the frames along her shelves that held my attention.
“How’s tomorrow sound?”
Two
CALLUM
“You’re getting a wee lodger,” Iris drawls.
Coffee splashing over the rim of my cup, I jerk my head up, my eyes burning into my sister’s.
“Don’t want no company. You know that, Iris.”
“Huh. Well, big brother.” She swings the tea towel over her shoulder, leaning against the counter of the café she’s been running since our parents passed years ago. “You have no choice in the matter. That lighthouse isn’t going to pay for itself much longer. Fire Island is the last on the list where funding is concerned from those heritage restoration dunderheids. She won’t be much trouble. I hear she’s a writer. Probably have her nose stuck in a book most of the time, you know. Besides, that Fresnel desperately needs replacing.”
I grunt, returning to my coffee.
Great, just what I need.Something else to look after.
A woman, no less.
“How’s that meditation coming along?” Iris prompts, pinning me with a glare. “You could use a few less rough edges.”
“It’s not.” I return the sentiment, my accent not as thick as hers anymore.
“You will be on your best behavior, Callum McCreary. It’s not only your hide on the line.” Iris levels me with a glare that could sink a thousand ships and see their sailors beg for death. Always dramatic, my little sister. I tell her it’s because she was born the decade after me. Nothing to do with her being a woman, I’m not that damn stupid.
Iris continues, “You might have to clear out, let her have the house. That hut of yours with no electricity isn’t going to keep a tenant longer than a day, ’specially one from the city.”
I let out a string of curses under my breath. The tea towel flings at my head.
