That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(7)

“Exactly,” Harper says with a smile. “And if you change your mind about going alone, we’re only a phone call away. All of us.”

It’s a nice gesture, but that’s exactly what I don’t want. All of my friends to be there. Even though living in Port Snow has given me a second family, I really wish I had my first family. My mom, my dad . . . my twin brother. But we can’t always get what we wish for, especially when one of those family members doesn’t follow through.



With a deep breath, I look out my car window and stare down the double grave site that rests thirty feet away. Though one headstone is a bit older than the other, they both bear loving words about being a great parent, a wonderful partner in life, and a beautiful soul.

Hands on the steering wheel, I close my eyes and will back the tears that already threaten to spill over.

Dad passed three years ago today, and the wound he left behind still feels raw. We lost Mom the year before Dad passed, and I always think he died so soon after because he didn’t want to spend another year on this earth without her. Their love was magical, what movies are made about. High school sweethearts, they became wildlife photographers, traveling around the world and getting to see some of the best sights I could only dream of until they settled down and decided to have a family in their late forties. But they couldn’t get pregnant, despite many years of trying.

That’s when they pursued adoption and got a call about Eric and me. Our birth mom signed the papers right away, asking for nothing financially, only that we would live a stable, happy life. My parents made that happen. They gave us a community, a loving home, and every opportunity we could imagine, even if we didn’t take it.

Losing Mom was hard enough, but losing Dad . . . it still rips me to shreds, knowing I’ll never hear his deep, raspy voice again or feel his big arms wrap around me. I put my life on hold to take care of the both of them while Eric went off to pursue his dreams. It was a decision we made together, one I don’t regret because I was there when the cancer finally took Mom, and I held Dad’s hand when a stroke took him shortly after. I brought them comfort and peace when no one else could. And through it all, the good days and the bad, the stories they told me, the wisdom they imparted to me, and the sly smiles I would gather every once in a while when they were feeling well made everything worth it. But even though the last few years are ones I’d never regret for a second, I assumed the dreams I put on hold would pick back up, and Eric and I would join forces. But when the time came to claim my future, Eric wasn’t mentally or physically there for me.

It was a tough pill to swallow, realizing just how alone I was, how alone I am in this world, but it hasn’t stopped me. It might have been a small speed bump in my pursuit of making something of myself, but it wasn’t a roadblock. My journey is slower than others’, but I refuse to let any circumstance that comes my way stop me from accomplishing my dreams.

Dark clouds are rolling in, and according to the forecast, we’re supposed to get a blizzard within the next twenty-four hours. The temperature will drop, and standing next to a cold gravestone will become unbearable soon, so I open my car door, grab my keys, and bundle deeper into my wool coat as I walk toward my parents’ grave site.

Dead brown grass and patches of leftover snow from the last storm crunch beneath my feet as I approach. Given the time of year, I don’t bother with flowers or anything that could be buried in snow. Instead I think of all the pretty colors I can plant in the springtime. Mom loved pink tulips, but Dad was always buying her daisies, claiming they were understated, beautiful in their own right. I plan on giving them both. That way, Dad will have to deal with Mom’s tulips planted next to him, and Mom will have to put up with Dad’s daisies.

A small smile pulling at the corner of my lips, I reach their headstones and squat down, grateful that the engraved words are still pristine despite the harsh Maine winters.

“Hey, you two,” I whisper. I lean forward and press a kiss to each of their stones with my hand. “God, I miss you.” I take another deep breath. “Three years today, Dad, and I still can’t get rid of this sick feeling deep in the pit of my stomach from losing you. And Mom, I could really use some of those endless nights where we stayed up talking, gabbing, as you liked to say. But I bet you two are having a blast being together again.” I chuckle. “Do you do all the haunting that you promised when you were in hospice? I specifically remember you saying something about scaring the white hair off Mrs. Davenport. I can only imagine the kind of fun you two would be having with her.”

I twist my hands together and roll back on my heels, still squatting. “I’m sorry Eric isn’t here. He couldn’t get out of work, but I guess you guys know everything that’s going on, right?” I sigh. “I wish he would come back to Port Snow, recharge, get out of the mindless line cook job, and start fresh, but he feels too guilty. After losing both of you, then the restaurant—all the money you invested after selling the house—I’m pretty sure he can’t bring himself to show his face. Not to mention the tension between us. It’s a tension I never thought we would have, but you don’t need to worry; we will figure it out.” I smile softly to myself.

“Anyway, enough about Eric. I’m finishing up school right now. It’s taken some time, but once I have my business degree wrapped up, I’m going to attempt to make something of myself. There are a few businesses in town that I know could use a little help, and I’ll be more than qualified. Melanie over at Sticks and Wicks mentioned needing some help with her books, and Ruth at Snow Roast was talking about a new business venture she wanted to pursue but was too scared to attempt on her own. I thought I could offer her some help.” I pick at the dead grass below my feet. “Working with some of my friends in town would be fun, different, not what I had planned in life, and it makes me feel a little uneasy switching gears from what I thought I would be doing; but when faced with adversity, I always seem to make things work out for me. Still”—I sigh—“between us, it’s scary not knowing my next steps. I thought I had everything planned out, I thought I had a support system by my side cheering me on, but that was all taken away, and now I’m figuring things out on my own, by myself.” A small tear tips over and rolls down my cheek. “The unknown is hard for me to accept, and the loneliness is even harder. I don’t have many people to turn to. Avery is making a life in the city; Harper is back with Rogan, and they’re super in love; Eric barely speaks with me out of pure shame; and I don’t have you two to hold me anymore when the fear of the unknown starts to creep in. And honestly, I’m still having a hard time dropping the dream Eric and I shared, the one we would talk about over the dinner table with you. It felt so real, like it was all going to happen when Eric opened Bar 79. I guess you can never truly count on anything, though, and as you taught me so skillfully, we are not ones to dwell.” I take a deep breath. “So, once I graduate, I’m putting together a résumé, and I’m going to go business to business and blow this small town out of the water with my intelligence.” I lean in a little closer. “Wouldn’t you just dance in your graves out of pure joy if I started an empire like the Knightlys? Remember that talk we had over s’mores that one night, Dad, when I snuck you out of the nursing home? When you said I should take over Port Snow just like the Knightlys did? I could only be so lucky. Whatever I end up doing, though, I know I’m going to make you proud. I promise.”