Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Makes sense why I haven’t had the pleasure of receiving one from you, then. My last name is Rumsey.”
I smiled. “I’ve sort of become pen pals with a few of the residents of Laurel Lake. I’ve exchanged letters in the cards with some. They tell me what’s going on in their lives, and I do the same. I’ve never met any of them, yet I feel like they’re old friends.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m surprised it took you so long to visit.”
I sighed. “Yeah. It shouldn’t have. Unfortunately, I followed in my mom’s footsteps and spent a lot of years in school and working too much.”
“I hear it’s Doctor Preston.”
I shook my head. “Dr. Preston is my mother. I’m just Josie.”
“We’ve only met and I can already tell you’re far from just Josie, sweetheart.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
Opal finished off one of the finger sandwiches. “So what finally brought you to Laurel Lake now?”
I looked down. “I…had a mental-health crisis and thought it would be best to get out of the city for a while.”
“Pardon my ignorance, but I’m not sure what that means. A mental-health crisis?”
“Basically, I had a nervous breakdown. Everything has a new term these days, doesn’t it?”
Opal reached out and covered my hand with hers. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling okay now?”
I smiled sadly. “I am. I spent a month in an inpatient facility getting treatment. When I got out, I went home to a pile of mail waiting for me in my apartment. One was a letter from the real estate agent who had been collecting rent from the woman renting my dad’s old house. She said Mrs. Wollman had moved out. I didn’t feel ready to go back to work yet, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get out of the city and finally see the town my dad loved so much.”
Opal squeezed my hand. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Our lake has healing powers.”
“It really is beautiful. There’s a serenity here that you can’t find in New York City.”
Opal nodded. “Can I ask you a personal question, Josie?”
I chuckled. “More personal than me telling you I recently spent time in a psych ward?”
She smiled. “Are you single?”
My eyes dropped to my left hand. It was a lot lighter these days without the giant rock I’d worn for almost a year. “I am.”
She leaned closer, like she was telling me a secret. “So is your neighbor, Fox Cassidy. You two would make a very cute couple.”
“Oh gosh.” I chuckled. “Fox and I have met. I don’t think he’s my biggest fan.”
She waved me off. “Eh. Whatever he did to give you that idea is just Fox being Fox. The man is a coconut. Hard shell on the outside, but soft and sweet on the inside.”
My brows shot up. “Fox? Soft and sweet inside?”
Opal smiled. “I know. Hard to believe, right? But it’s the truth. Trust me, I’ve been working for him for a long time.”
“What is it that Fox does?”
“He’s a builder, mostly commercial stuff. But he also coaches a hockey team—a team for people with disabilities. Many of the kids have cerebral palsy or Down syndrome. A few have competed in the Special Olympics and Paralympics. And he does all that work for free. Without telling people about it, too, I might add.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yep. Stick around long enough, and I’m sure you’ll get to meet some of them. On the weekends I sometimes see him having lunch with guys on the team, or he’ll be out running in the street with one or two he’s giving extra training to.”
Huh. I never would’ve guessed Mr. Grumpy Pants was so giving. Though it did kind of make sense with the way he’d carried my suitcases in, even after I’d smashed his mailbox. And the way he’d hauled over all of my sheetrock when I’d had it delivered to the wrong address. There was a gentleman buried underneath that grunting exterior. It reminded me of something my dad used to say, something I hadn’t thought of in a long time. “Boys speak. A gentleman doesn’t have to; he acts.”
A few minutes later, an older woman wearing a black polo with Rita’s Beanery embroidered on it walked over to our table. She tied a long apron around her waist as she spoke. “Hey, Opal. How you doing? Katie told me you were looking for me.”
“Oh hi, Bernadette. I want to introduce you to someone. This is Josie Preston. Her momma and daddy lived here in Laurel Lake. He’s a year older than you, and she’s two years younger, so I thought you might know them.”
“Oh?” Bernadette looked over at me and winked. “Is your dad forty-nine too?”
Opal scoffed. “You’ve got varicose veins older than forty-nine.”
Bernadette waved Opal off, then tapped her finger to her lip. “Preston. Preston. Your dad wouldn’t be Henry Preston, would he?”