Page 27 of Finding Home

“I don’t regret it,” he said. “Not for a second.”

“That’s good,” Julie said. “Because it will be amazing once it’s built.”

Cole hoped so. At times, it felt as though the whole world was against him. As Julie pulled away from the curb, he waved and stood on the sidewalk for longer than he needed to.

One day, he’d look back and shrug off the uncertainty that was part of everything he did.

He might even smile about the evening he’d asked Julie to dinner—and tried to pretend it was nothing more than two people sharing a meal.

Chapter 18

The Lakeside Grill occupied the ground floor of a converted Victorian building on the edge of Flathead Lake. With its wide, timber veranda, and pretty fairy lights strung around the entrance, the restaurant was a favorite of everyone in Sapphire Bay.

Julie had eaten there many times since arriving in town, and each time was better than the last.

Cole held the door open and she stepped into warmth and noise. The room was fuller than she’d expected for a Tuesday night. Voices overlapped above the low murmur of jazz from a speaker near the bar, and clusters of people stood between tables with glasses raised. At the far end of the room, a hand-lettered banner read Congratulations Donna and Will.

“It must be an engagement party,” Cole said. “We can go somewhere else if you’d prefer.”

“No, it’s okay.” Julie scanned the room. “I like seeing all the happiness in one space.”

A hostess found them a table near the window, separated from the celebration by a half-partition of latticework and climbing ivy. It was close enough to hear occasional bursts of laughter, but far enough away to hold a proper conversation.

“Look at them,” Julie said quietly, watching a young couple near the banner. The woman had a silk sash draped over her shoulder and caught at the waist. Julie wasn’t close enough to read it, but it almost certainly said bride-to-be. With one hand on her fiancé’s chest, she was laughing at something he’d said. “They’re so certain of each other.”

“I hope it lasts,” Cole replied. “There’s so much you don’t know about yourself when you’re their age.”

“I don’t think it’s any easier when you’re our age. I know what I want in a partner, but I also have habits that would probably drive someone crazy.”

Cole smiled. “Such as?”

“I make lists for everything. I can’t leave a room without straightening what’s in it. And I read until two in the morning and then wonder why I’m tired.” She looked at him. “Your turn.”

“I’ve been told I go quiet when something’s bothering me instead of talking about it.” He paused. “And I’ve spent so long putting work first that I forget to leave room for much else.”

Julie heard the weight behind his last confession and didn’t push. Each of them had failed relationships because they’d made their partners feel as if they were second best.

“We’re a matched set,” she said lightly.

Cole’s expression shifted into something quiet and considered. “I guess we are.”

They ordered their meals, and when they arrived, they ate without any pressure to fill the quiet between them.

“Were you always interested in writing?” Cole asked. “Or did that come later?”

Julie thought about it. “I was always the kid who wanted to know why. Why the school was closing, why a neighbor had moved away overnight, why the front page looked different one morning.” She set down her fork. “My grandmother used to say I asked more questions before breakfast than most people asked in a week.”

“She didn’t mind?”

“She loved it,” Julie told him. “She was the one who told me to start writing things down. I was eleven. She gave me a notebook with a yellow cover and said that if I recorded what I noticed, I’d start seeing patterns. She was right.”

“She sounds like someone special.”

“She was.” Julie looked at her plate. “She died when I was in my thirties. I didn’t go home enough toward the end. Work always seemed more urgent.” She paused. “I’ve thought about that a lot since I moved here.”

Cole turned his water glass on the table, the way he did when he was thinking about something.

“What about you?” Julie asked. “What were you like before all of this?”