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Homecoming Reunion

By Carolyne Aarsen

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Chapter One
What was she doing here?
Garret Beck let the door of Mug Shots, his favorite place in Hartley Creek fall shut behind him as he caught sight of Larissa Weir in one corner of the coffee shop. She sat across the table from her Uncle Baxter, her hands shaping pictures as she spoke. Her grey-green eyes sparkled with laughter. Her dark hair shimmered in the light from the window beside her.
The blue dotted scarf she had draped over her white shirt enhanced the color of her eyes and matched the blue dangly earrings swinging against her cheek. Over that she wore a suit jacket and narrow skirt.
He looked at the floor and in spite of the emotions that washed over him he had to smile. Her shoes lay on their sides, her bare toes layered over each other.
She always did that. And he always teased her about being an original barefoot hippy.
He tried to rein in his errant heart, disappointed that, after all these years, she still could make him feel like a foolish, breathless teenager. Could still make him remember, too easily, how much she had meant to him.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple pushing against the knot of his silk tie. He stopped himself from reaching up and straightening it. From brushing the lapels of his suit jacket.
From trying to make himself look presentable in front of the only girl he had ever truly loved.
We were just kids then, he reminded himself. You’re no longer a broke lumber piler working for her dad.
And Larissa Weir chose her father over you.
“Hey, Carter, what can I get you?”
A bright, cheerful voice called out and Garret pulled his gaze away from Larissa to the woman standing behind the counter, wiping her hands on a hand towel, her greying hair partially covered in a pink bandanna, her wide smile like a beacon of welcome light.
Garret resisted the urge to play the mistaken identity game he and his twin brother, Carter, used to indulge in when they were younger. “I’m Garret,” he corrected her, adding a grin.
Kerry frowned, then her mouth fell open and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh my goodness. It is you. I should have known. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Carter in a suit and tie.” She shook her head, taking a step back as if to get the full picture. “Look at you. All successful looking. How long are you back in town this time?”
“I have plans to stay for a while.” And those plans were the reason for his meeting with the man sitting across from Larissa. “Proud to say that Hartley Creek, British Columbia is now my new home,” he said with a grin.
“Or latest home,” Kerry said, flipping the towel over her shoulder. “Heard you’ve been working all over the world.”
“I’ve been here and there,” he admitted, trying to keep his focus on her as his Larissa’s light laugh tugged at his attention.
“So, now that you’re here, I imagine you’ll have your usual oversize coffee?” Kerry asked, grabbing a large mug and filling it up even before he could give his order. “Garret?” she prompted when he didn’t answer.
Garret gave himself a mental shake, turning back to Kerry. “Of course. Need all the caffeine I can ingest,” he replied pulling his wallet out of his suit jacket and pulling a bill out of it.
Kerry took his money, handed him his coffee, and, as if sensing the reason for his distraction, gave him a wink along with his change. “Glad to see you back. I know your grandmother and cousins missed you, not to mention Carter.”
Of course she would know this, he thought, dropping the change in the tip mug sitting by the till. Facebook and Twitter had nothing on what he and his brother, Carter, jokingly called The Mug Shots Messaging Service. Anything spoken in the coffee shop travelled around Hartley Creek quicker than a sneeze.
“I’ve missed them too,” he said. Then he shot another glance at Larissa and the man sitting across from her. Had Larissa been one of the people who missed him?
Garret brushed aside the pointless question, took a steadying breath as he picked up the hot mug of coffee, then walked with measured steps across the wooden floor to the table where Larissa and her uncle sat.
“ . . . so let me know how that works out,” Baxter was saying. “We can discuss it later.”
Larissa nodded, her hair slipping over her face as she bent her head and scribbled some notes on the papers laying on the table in front of her.
Baxter Lincoln sat back, glancing around as Garret approached.
Garret knew the precise moment Baxter caught his gaze.
His grey eyes blinked then his glance flew first to his niece sitting across from him, then to the Rolex strapped to his wrist.
Yes, I’m early, Garret wanted to say. And he guessed Larissa was supposed to have been gone before Garret had arrived.
Garret gave Baxter a tight smile freezing it in place when Larissa looked up at her uncle, frowning at his expression. The she followed the direction of Baxter’s gaze.
As her eyes met his, alarm swept across her beautiful features and her pen clattered to the table.
However Larissa was a true daughter of her father and her expression reverted so quickly to bland politeness Garret could easily have imagined her previous dismay. Her smile reappeared, a shadow of it’s previous incarnation.
“Hello, Garret. I heard you were back in town,” she said, her voice as neutral as her facial expression as she picked up her pen.
“I didn’t expect you for another fifteen minutes,” Baxter put in, his voice taking on an excessively hearty tone.
Garret gave Larissa a curt nod, acknowledging her greeting, then dragged his gaze away from the woman who had once been the focus of his entire life and turned back to her uncle.
“Thought I’d enjoy Kerry’s legendary coffee before our meeting,” he said, pleased at how casual his voice came out.
“Of course. That’s great,” Baxter said, twisting his watch around his wrist. “Glad you could make it.” Baxter got up and grabbed a chair and set it at empty end of their table.
Garret wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t relish the idea of sitting with Larissa, especially when it looked as if she and her uncle were discussing business. But to ignore the gesture would look rude.
Besides, the hot mug grew heavy in his hand.
“You go ahead and sit down,” Larissa said quietly, gathering up her papers and tapping them on the table. “I should get going anyway.”
The coolness of her tone accompanied by her polite smile unsettled him. Especially here in Mug Shots. The place he and Larissa used to spend time at when they were dating. The place he had first told her he loved her.
Then she looked up at him again and he caught the fleeting glow of anger in the depths of her eyes.
His own back stiffened in response as he set his mug on the table.
Why did she have any right to be angry with him? She was the one who refused to come with him ten years ago.
Silence, rife with old emotions and past affections rose up between them.
The fact disappointed and depressed him. He thought he had long moved on. He knew she had. Her silence after he left town told him clearly who she had chosen over him.
Her father.
She looked away, breaking the connection.
“I’ve got to talk to Mia about some flowers and then I’ve should get back to the inn,” Larissa told her uncle. “Will you be coming there after?”
Baxter shook his head, no. “We’ll have to finish up tomorrow.”
Larissa nodded, then bent over and picked up her briefcase, slipped the papers inside, followed by the laptop she had sitting on the table as well.
Business woman, Garret thought his mind slipping back to the blue jeans, hooded sweatshirts and running shoes Larissa used to favor. Designer blue jeans, mind you, but blue jeans nonetheless.
Now she looked as though she had been transplanted from some Manhattan office tower and plunked into downtown Hartley Creek.
“Don’t forget your shoes,” he said, looking down at the pumps laying on the floor.
Her cheeks flushed and without looking at him she slipped her shoes on, lifting her about two inches higher. Then she slung her briefcase over her shoulder and picked up her mug and a plate holding the remains of her lunch. As she straightened her eyes grazed his but this time he saw nothing in their depths.
Which bothered him more than the anger he saw previously.
“Good to see you again, Garret,” she said, her voice cool and composed. Then she turned to her uncle who got to his feet. “So I’ll see you tomorrow at the Inn then.”
“I’ll be by about eight o’clock,” he said.
She nodded, then swept past Garret, leaving behind the faintest hint of flowers from her perfume.
The scent brought back another wave of memories. He and Larissa sneaking down the back alleys of Main Street to come here, hoping her father wouldn’t catch them. He and Larissa sitting in this very corner at Mug Shots - their spot - sharing a scone, a few laughs. A kiss.
He shook his head as if to clear away the insidious webs of memory. He had to get a grip, he thought. He was bound to run into Larissa again. Hartley Creek wasn’t big enough to avoid her completely.

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