Page 84 of The Pink House

“How long after Nathaniel’s death did you meet him?”

“Six months.” Maisie lifted a hand. “I know it was quick, and I wasn’t looking for anyone. But my honey bear was so unlike Nathaniel that it didn’t occur to me when we started talking that there could be anything more between us than friendship. I guess you could say my guard was down.”

“You fell in love with him before you realized it was happening.”

Maisie’s lips curved, and her eyes shone. “I did.”

“Where is he—?”

“Is that what happened with you and Charlie?” Maisie asked. “He snuck under your defenses?”

Hannah glanced away and gave a jerky nod.

Maisie reached over and touched her arm. “It’s okay to love again, hon. There is no appropriate timeline, only what’s right for you. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

How was it that simply speaking with Maisie helped her sort through her tangled thoughts? Was this what it would have been like to have a mother? Someone to guide and direct, but not push?

“I had friends wanting to fix me up only months after Brian passed away. I wasn’t interested. Now, though a year has passed, some will say it’s too soon.”

“What matters is what you think, what you know in your heart.” A rueful smile tipped Maisie’s lips. “I even had someone tell me I must not have really loved Nathaniel if I could fall in love with another man so soon.”

Hannah hesitated. “Did hearing them say that make you wonder if it was true?”

“No, because I knew in my heart how much I loved Nathaniel.” Maisie’s eyes grew distant with memories, then she smiled. “My honey bear brought light back into my life. Falling in love again isn’t disrespectful to the one who’s gone, but a tribute to them. Nathaniel loved me. I know he’d want me to feel joy again.”

“Brian told me before he died that he wanted me to be happy.”

“There’s your answer.”

A sudden gust of wind swept through the trees, rattling the table.

Maisie looked up at the sky and stood. “A storm is coming. You better head home.”

Hannah rose, reluctant to leave.

She wasn’t sure what to think when Maisie stepped close and wrapped her arms around her, the sweet fragrance of lilies enveloping her.

“I’m so glad we had this chance to get better acquainted. You’re a wonderful woman, Hannah, a woman any mother would be proud of.” Maisie brushed her lips against Hannah’s hair. “Be happy, my sweet girl.”

Hannah hesitated. “When will I see you again?”

“I’ll never be far away. Now, hurry home.” Maisie gestured. “This isn’t the place for you.”

As the wind continued to blow and distant thunder rumbled, Hannah rushed down the steps.

When she turned back, Maisie was gone. The woman had been right. The porch wasn’t the place for either of them. Not now.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Hoping to beat the downpour, Hannah ran the last block to her house. Unfortunately, by the time she could reach her porch, the rain began to fall in sheets, soaking her to the bone. Stripping out of her clothes, she headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

The water, so warm and soothing against her chilled skin, had her lingering under the spray while her mind drifted to her conversation with Maisie in the woods.

What the woman had said made sense. There shouldn’t be a timeline for how quickly or slowly someone moved into a new relationship after losing a spouse. So many factors were involved.

Once she finally left the warmth of the shower, Hannah spent the rest of the day experimenting with her own version of an opera cake. The one she’d brought home from Normandy had been the classic six-layer French cake featuring joconde sponge and chocolate ganache, topped with a coffee buttercream frosting.

Today, Hannah made the recipe her own, brushing an almond sponge cake with coffee-flavored syrup and adding instant espresso powder to the frosting. Now that the cake was assembled and chilling in the refrigerator, she headed upstairs to the small room her mother had used for sewing.

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