structure with a double-height dining and living area and a wall of glass opening onto the pool.
The house nestled behind dunes that were part of a bird sanctuary, and in the evenings during the renovation he’d often sat on the deck, nursing a beer, watching the gentle sway of the sea grass and listening to the plaintive call of the gulls.
A short drive and he was on the edge of town, but here there was only the whisper of the wind and the rhythmic crash of the ocean. People had been listening to the same sound for centuries, and there was a simplicity to it, a soporific blend of nature that soothed the senses.
His house lacked the palatial feel of his childhood home, and in his opinion, it was all the better for that.
There were no ghosts here, and no memories.
He let Lulu out of the car and stood for a moment, admiring the lines of his new home.
“Got yourself something good here.” The voice came from behind him, and he turned with a smile.
“Chase! I didn’t notice your car.”
“I was right behind you, but you were obviously thinking about something else.”
Not something, someone.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you this week. I thought you were in Manhattan, wheeling and dealing.” He eyed his friend’s board shorts. “You don’t look much like a CEO of a major corporation.”
“What can I say? I’ve discovered the joys of the weekend.”
“It’s Wednesday.”
Chase grinned. “So the weekend has started early.”
“This from a guy who didn’t used to know what the weekend was. Who are you and what have you done with my friend? On second thoughts, don’t answer that. I like this version of you better. I guess that’s what being married has done to you.” Seth closed the car door. “How’s Matilda?”
“Uncomfortable. The heat is bothering her. The baby’s due in four weeks, and I’m working down here from now until it arrives.” He raked his fingers through his hair, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m going to be a dad. CEO of a family. Toughest job yet.”
“Funny, because I would have said Matilda was CEO of your family. You’re just staff.”
“You could be right about that.” Chase narrowed his eyes as he studied Seth’s house. “It’s coming along.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to admit I was right about the deck?”
They’d argued about the details by email and in person. “You were right. And I owe you.”
“You’re welcome. And you can pay me in babysitting.”
Seth felt a stab of pain under his ribs. “Not my area of expertise. But if Hero ever needs a vet, I’m your guy.”
“He’s bound to need a vet. That dog has no clue about personal safety, and I can tell you he is no one’s idea of a hero. I keep suggesting Matilda rename him—Liability was my suggestion—but she refuses. He’s too big and strong for her to walk at the moment.” Chase frowned. “I don’t suppose you know of any dog-walking companies around here you can vouch for?”
Seth shook his head and then thought for a moment. “Have you heard of the Bark Rangers?”
“Yes, but they’re in Manhattan. It’s run by the Knight twins, but I’m guessing you already know that. We use them when we’re in town, although I’ve never dared confess that to you before. Not sure if it’s sensitive.” Chase looked at him cautiously. “The name Knight doesn’t exactly come up in conversation these days. Is this a topic we should be avoiding?”
“No. And it so happens I just ran into Harriet.” He paused, wondering how much to say. “Her grandmother fell, so she’s here for a while. I’ll see if she can help you.”
“Matilda is friendly with Harriet, but I haven’t seen either of the twins for ten years. Not since—”
“Not since you were best man at my wedding. You don’t have to tiptoe around, Chase. As you say, it was ten years ago.” Plenty of time to adjust and put it in his rearview mirror. People had dismissed it at the time—too young, too fast—so he hadn’t had to deal with shock or surprise. There had been more than a few knowing nods from folks who thought you could judge a relationship from the outside, as if you could get the measure of a house by peeping in through one window.
“I didn’t know you were still in touch.”
“We’re not.”
“This is the first time you’ve seen Harriet since you broke up? That must have been weird.”
“Yes.” Weird wasn’t the word he would have chosen, but he went with it.
“Maybe it’s easier that it’s just Harriet.”
“Maybe.” Seth didn’t expand on that. “Anyway, she’ll be walking her grandmother’s dog, so I’ll ask her if she’ll walk yours, too.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Chase changed the subject. “So when are you moving in? And, more importantly, when’s the housewarming? Are you here for the Fourth or are you going away?”
“I’m here. Working and on call over the holiday weekend.”
“That’s tough.”
“Honestly? Not really.” Seth rescued Lulu, who had managed to wedge her head in a hedge. “The rest of the family are spending it in Vermont.”
“Having a change.” Chase nodded, understanding. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Considering everything, she’s doing okay. But she wants to sell Ocean View.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
Seth looked at his new home, at the smooth lines, the deck, his view of the dunes. He wouldn’t swap it for anything. So why wasn’t he more motivated to sell the house? “I think it’s the right thing to do, although I’m not sure about the timing.”
“The timing is perfect. It’s summer, the house will show at its best. Trust me on that. I may not know a thing about babies, but I do know about real estate.”
“I wasn’t talking about the timing for the market, more the timing for my mother. I’m worried it’s too soon and that she’ll regret the decision.”
Chase put his hand on Seth’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll ask you again—how do you feel about it?”
As always Chase was observant. And sensitive. It was one of the reasons they’d been friends for so long.
“Conflicted.”
“I can imagine.” Chase sighed. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think hanging on to things necessarily eases the pain. Maybe it even makes it worse.”
“Intellectually I know that. Emotionally, I seem to be having trouble with it. We spent every summer there from the year I was born. It feels as if I’m not just selling a house, I’m selling memories. And Mom always loved it here.” He paused as Chase’s phone rang. “You should get that. It might be Matilda.”
“It is Matilda. Damn—” His friend fumbled with the phone and almost dropped it. “What’s wrong, honey? Is it happening? Is it now? What do I need to do? Who do I call?”
Seth watched, amused, as his friend went from calm to agitated. He waited for him to end the call and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Do we need to put the midwife on alert?”
“No. She wanted me to buy peaches from the farm stand. Peaches! Look at me. I’m a wreck. What the hell is wrong with me?” Chase pocketed his phone and shook his head.