“Got a vase?” she asked while she washed her hands.
“Bottom of the dining room buffet. Take your pick. Want a beer?”
“No, thanks. Never got a real taste for them.”
“Coke?”
“That’ll work.” She crouched down, opened one of the doors on the lower buffet. “Wow. Quite a collection.”
“Grand took what she wanted when they moved. They’re mostly her collection.”
“This is beautiful.” She held up a vase of smooth wood. “Is it from Crafty Arts?”
“Yeah. A guy I know makes them. He had a show there last fall.”
“It’s perfect.” She brought it out, started on the flowers. “You must know a lot of people. The advantage of living in the same place, going to the same schools.”
“Not everybody stays.”
“No, of course not. But a lot do, don’t they? Most of my staff grew up here, or have lived here for years. Not necessarily in Westridge, but the general area.”
“Plenty of job opportunities.” He handed her a glass. “Good schools, low crime, a solid arts community. It’s scenic, offers an abundance of outdoor activities and interest, and it’s close to the national forest.”
“I don’t suppose the chamber of commerce could do anything about the length of winter.”
“You learn to embrace it.” Because he liked watching her, he leaned back on the counter with his beer. “Skiing, snowshoeing, ice-skating on the lake, pickup hockey games, ice fishing.”
“I don’t get why anyone wants a fish enough to drill a hole in the ice and sit in a shanty.”
“It’s not for everybody.”
She glanced over. “You?”
“Not in this lifetime. It’s freaking cold.” When she laughed, he shrugged. “But plenty go for it. It’s not just the fish, it’s the beer, the camaraderie. Liam likes it, but mostly he and our grandfather just like to sit there and hang out. Then he’ll go around to the shanties, bullshit awhile, go back, and tell Pop the news.”
“Liam’s got the social skills of a cruise director. But then, he sort of is.”
She stepped back, studied the results of her work, adjusted a couple of flowers.
“I could say the same about you.”
“Me? Not really. His is natural, innate. I had to work at mine. You can’t be shy waiting tables or tending bar—at least not if you want to pull tips. So that helped me push through.”
“‘Shy’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe you.”
“Not now.” She centered the vase on the island. “You didn’t know me when. I didn’t have a real date until college.”
“Were all the teenage boys blind and deaf?”
That not only earned him a smile, but she stepped over, kissed him. “I was the skinny new girl who didn’t have much to say for herself. The one who sat in class—fully prepared, because them’s the rules—but prayed the teacher wouldn’t call on her.
“Now, college, I knew I’d be there for four years, so I could reinvent myself a little. And I practiced.”
“You practiced?”
“Sure. Today, I’m going to speak to three people, and I’m going to pay attention to what they say. Today, I’m going into that coffee shop, and I’m not going to sit alone hunched over the table, because I’m going to get a job. After a while I didn’t have to think about it every time, or talk myself into it.”
She patted his chest. “You’ve always been confident. Some of us pretend to be until we learn to be.”
“Looks like you learned.”
“I did.” She walked back, adjusted one more flower in the vase. “I expect Liam was always surrounded by friends, or those who wished they were. Nell, popular girl, but not one of the mean clique. She had the looks, the style, the brains, and that sense of fair play. You? More the loner with a small, tight group of real friends. Like the police chief. None of you had to battle shyness because you always, always knew who you were. I had to figure out who I wanted to be, and, well, be.”
“And did you?”
“I did.” She leaned into him, comfortable, easy, with the flowers she’d arranged behind her. “He thought he stole that from me. Rozwell. That’s his purpose, to take who you are, erase it. For a while I thought he’d succeeded. But he didn’t. Whatever he took, I’m still me.”
He stroked a hand down her back. “It seems to me that who you are isn’t someone you had to figure out, just someone you had to dig out. She was always there.”