none that Jill could answer. She'd simply told Harriet to shut down her computer and lock
her office. And then she'd hung up and the tears came again. So they walked to the pier
and sat. Just sat. They didn't talk much. They sat, they touched, they cried.
And at five, Carrie had gathered her close, had told her goodbye. Her eyes had been filled
with pain, pain she'd tried to hide from Jill.
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
Carrie nodded. "Sure. Same as always."
Jill had driven away, her eyes glancing again and again into the rearview mirror, seeing
Carrie standing on the driveway, watching her. The feeling that she would never see Carrie
again was like an ominous premonition, one she tried to dispel as she drove away.
But now, sitting here in the dark—alone—that feeling came to her again. Much like all those
months ago when she'd first met Carrie, when she felt their meeting was preordained,
their affair inevitable. Much like that, she knew deep in her soul that she would never see
Carrie again.
And again, the tears came.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
She'd thought... maybe... Carrie's van would be there. But she wasn't really surprised to
find the driveway empty. Because she knew.
She was surprised, however, to see the roses on their table in the sunroom. Roses and a
bottle of wine. Her breath caught and she covered her mouth, trying so hard not to cry at
the sight of the lone wineglass.
"Oh, Carrie."
She stood at the door for the longest time, gathering herself, her eyes moving over the
table, seeing the papers, seeing the note. She finally moved, walking closer, instinctively
bending to smell the flowers.
"Why did you do this?" she whispered.
But the note drew her and she sat down, her eyes glancing at the words, reading them
quickly before her vision became blurry with tears.
I won't make this long. You don't need that and I'm not sure I could manage it. There are
just some things you need to know. First, the cottage. It's as much yours as mine. And it
didn't become a home to me until you came into my life. So I've transferred the title to
your name. All you need to do is sign the paperwork I've left for you. My attorney's card is
there. I've given him all of your information. He'll be in contact with you. Also, there's a
bank account that I opened in your name. It's not a huge sum, Jill, but it was mine and I
wanted you to have it, not James. It was the money from Joshua and from his land.
I know how hard this is for you. I came into your life and turned your world upside down,
and now I'm leaving you. But it doesn't hurt so much, Jill, knowing we'll be together in
another life, another time. As brief as it was, I couldn't have laved you more even if we'd
had twenty years together.
Please don't cry for me. I'll be with you. You just have to look for me. I've asked for my
ashes to be spread at the park, near the pier, where you and I walked and talked, where we
fed the ducks... where we met.
There was another sentence or two, but Jill couldn't go on. She cried out then with one
swing of her arm, she knocked the roses and wine to the floor, glass shattering on the tile
from her fit of grief. There amongst the mess stood the lone wineglass, undisturbed by
her fury.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Present Day
Jill shifted on the bench, her gaze sliding from the old woman back to the countless
headstones that dotted the landscape. "And just like that... she was gone." Jill dabbed at
her eyes, her tissue in shreds and she dug in her purse for another one. "I never saw her
again. And three weeks later, I read the news... in the paper," she said, tears again falling.
"So quick. I'm in shock still, I think. There wasn't time to say good-bye. There wasn't time
to say all the things I wanted to say, needed to say. She was just gone." Jill paused for
breath, just now noticing the lengthening shadows as the sun slipped from the sky. She'd
been talking for hours. "I'm so sorry, I've just been rambling on."
The old woman took her hand and squeezed, her own eyes misting with tears. "Not
rambling, dear. You've been telling me of a great love. Thank you for sharing that with me."
Jill blew her nose then cleared her throat. "Yes. We fell in love. People do that, you know,"
she said, almost apologetically. "And when you're falling in love, you believe in things so
strongly." She paused, tears again welling in her eyes. "And I believe. I truly do. Is that
crazy? Is it crazy to believe—to hope— that there's another lifetime that we'll be
together? Do you think about that with your Eddie?"
She shook her head. "No. The Bible says it's not so. But I believe I'll see Eddie again. In
heaven. Not in another lifetime." She patted her hand. "But I've learned through the years
that everyone has different beliefs." She leaned closer. "That doesn't make it wrong."
Jill was silent for a moment, absently rubbing at her eyes, knowing she must look frightful.
She finally turned. "No one knows. No one. Just you." She touched her heart. "A love so
strong inside of me and no one knows."
"And you crashed the service today just to see them, to put faces to names?"
"Yes. Is that awful of me? I thought maybe I might feel... well, might feel her here."
"From what you've told me, it's not here you'll find her. You have the cottage now. That's
where she'll be."
Jill laughed bitterly. "Yes. I have the cottage. A place I can't bear to go to, yet a place I'll
never be able to part with."
"Nonsense. You'll go there because that's where she is. That's where you'll find your
peace." She pointed to the grave. "That's why I come here. To me, this is where Eddie is,
this is where I put him. That's what I was taught to believe." She stared at the grave, her
wrinkled face hinting at a smile. "Oh, I feel his presence in the house, always will I suppose.
But he's here. And I have my bench where I can come and talk to him. It eases the pain
somewhat." She surprised Jill by putting a thin arm around her shoulders and pulling Jill
closer. "Death... it's so hard to be the one left behind," she said quietly. "But we go on.
That's what we do." She pulled away. "Now, you go on home. You've got some decisions to
make."
Jill nodded, then leaned over and kissed the wrinkled face. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Thank you for... well, just thank you."
Jill squeezed her shoulder one last time, then walked away, surprised by the lessening of
the pain in her heart.
"If you ever need to talk, you know where I'll be," she called to Jill.
Jill turned, watching as Bea's glance slid back to the grave, back to her Eddie.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
She gave herself a week. A week to get her emotions under control, a week to make sure
there weren't any complications with the cottage and a week to feel confident about her
decision.
Despite everything that had happened to her in the last year, her decision to leave Craig
really had very little to do with Carrie. She'd been unhappy in her marriage long before
Carrie came into her life. But still, divorce was something she'd never even considered
before.
So she waited for Craig to get home, determined to tell him, determined to get on with her
life. She couldn't continue this any longer. Between his constant questions and her fits of
tears, the last few weeks had been a challenge for both of them. But it was time to give