I just love reading your reviews - you are all so kind! Here's the next update. I hope you like this one. :)
"Spencer!" Aria called as she entered Spencer's office.
"Hey," Spencer greeted, coming out of her small kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee. "Want some coffee?" Aria smiled fondly and shook her head.
"I've got a shoot this afternoon. I need a steady hand. I've had my morning latte so unlike you, I have to call it a day."
"Suit yourself," Spencer said, sitting down on the couch in the small seating area she usually reserved for clients – and impromptu visits from friends. "What brings you by?"
"Just dropping off this," Aria said, joining Spencer on the couch and handing her a flash drive. "It's the photos you had me shoot of the Jennings' dining room. I have to ask one more time – are they for real with that wallpaper?"
"Sadly, yes," Spencer said, making a face at the memory. It wasn't her favorite project. The couple had chosen a horrendous red and gold patterned wall paper before bringing in Spencer's expert opinion and no amount of prodding, coaxing or downright begging would change their minds about it. She'd done the best she could and the room looked decent enough in the end. She was planning to use it as a 'before and after' post on her website, making sure to point out that the wallpaper had been the 'inspiration' of the room and she'd taken it from there. She was hoping it would prove she could turn even the ugliest swan beautiful.
"Well, as always, you have both the originals and the ones I edited. They are yours to use at will."
"You are amazing," Spencer told her. "And easily the best retainer fee I could spend each month."
"I'm your only retainer fee," Aria retorted with a grin. "Which means I get to shoot the Sanford house when you're done. I can only imagine what those photos will look like. Old, historical. That house has such a story, just waiting to be told."
"Speaking of the Sanford house…" Spencer ventured as she plugged the drive into her laptop. She opened the first photo and started flipping through them, impressed as always with Aria's work. "I drove out there for a meeting a couple days ago."
"And?" Aria prompted. She was fascinated by the house, even currently researching its history in preparation for her shoot whenever it rolled around.
"And Mrs. Sanford showed me the blueprints for the expansion. The architect had a genius idea to not only add a veranda but to make it two stories, use up the space for the second floor. I suggested making the side wall of the morning room all windows. Can you imagine that view?"
"Stunning," Aria agreed. "And the veranda? That's a great idea."
"It's going to be amazing," Spencer confirmed. "If only I could get her to settle on a paint color. For any room. At all." Aria chuckled, aware of Spencer's struggles with getting Mrs. Sanford to make up her mind on anything design-related.
"Just think, you've barely even started looking at fabrics." Spencer groaned at Aria's all too true statement.
"These are great, Aria," she said as she reached the last photo. "Thanks again."
"Anytime," Aria said, meaning it. "And by the way, where's your car? I didn't see it in its usual spot. I thought you weren't here, but then I saw you walk past the window."
"It's down the street at Bruce Brothers' Garage getting four new tires," Spencer said. "And a bunch of other work that's going to cost me a kidney. Apparently routine maintenance on a vehicle actually matters."
"Oil changes are the life of your car," Aria agreed. Spencer gave her a weird look which Aria shrugged off. "That's what my dad says. He gets his oil changed every 3,000 miles like clockwork."
"You know, it was actually Toby that told me I should have my tires checked," Spencer ventured.
She'd been dying to tell one of her friends about her back road run in with Toby, but hadn't found the opportunity, both because she hadn't known how to bring it up and because they hadn't had a chance to really talk since it had occurred. Aria had been busy editing a wedding she'd shot over the weekend, Hanna was knee deep in opening her boutique and when Emily had called the previous night, she'd been gushing about the new apartment she and her girlfriend had just signed a lease on.
"Toby?" Aria questioned. "As in Cavanaugh?" Spencer nodded.
"One in the same."
"How'd that happen?" she asked, curious as to how the two had managed to cross paths in such a remote area.
"I hit a pot hole driving back. I called Triple A, but they were going to be a couple hours, assuming they could even find me. So I googled it on my phone – which, for the record, there's actually service way out there – and was attempting to change the flat myself when Toby came along on his motorcycle. He changed the tire, suggested I get the rest of them looked at, and we went our separate ways. Or, the same way. We both drove back to Rosewood, he turned off on his street and I came to my office."
"What was he doing way out there?" Aria asked.
"I didn't ask," Spencer said. Aria played with the set of keys she'd been holding since she walked in.
"Spence, how do you feel about him being here?" she asked. She'd been worried about Spencer ever since she'd revealed that Toby was back. After learning that Ezra was –A all along, she hadn't been in the frame of mind to help Spencer through Toby's third and seemingly final abandonment. She knew Spencer acted strong but ultimately, when she broke, she crumbled into a million tiny pieces.
"I don't know," Spencer admitted. "It's – weird."
"Just weird?" Aria pushed.
"For now," Spencer said. She sighed and closed her laptop. "I put my life back together, Aria. After –A, Red Coat, all the murders, learning the truth about Ali… I can finally sleep with my windows open and my doors unlocked. We all can. What Toby did hurt, but I got over it. Again. I'm a hell of a lot stronger than I was five years ago. I'm not going to let him mess that up. Not again."
"Good," Aria said, satisfied with the conviction in Spencer's voice. "We've all come too far to go back." The two friends traded a knowing smile. "I should go. I've got to finish editing those photos and deliver them to the bride."
"Thanks for dropping these off," Spencer said, motioning at the flash drive still in her laptop. "Dinner at my place tomorrow? I'll see if Han can make it too."
"Sounds perfect. I'll bring the wine." Spencer smiled to herself as she listened to Aria's footsteps disappearing down the metal staircase outside the loft. Out of everything that had changed, it was good to know she still had her friends. She returned to her desk with her coffee in hand, glanced at the clock, and resumed work on the sketch she'd been drafting before her coffee break.
It didn't take much for Spencer to get caught up in her work. Only an empty mug of coffee and a growl from her stomach had caused her to look up from her sketch to discover it was after 2:00. She hadn't had a mouthful since the English muffin with peanut butter and a banana from much earlier that morning and found she was famished now. She made her way down to The Brew.
"Work through lunch again?" Zach asked as he saw her approach the counter.
"Yeah," Spencer admitted. "Can I get a turkey wrap? And a nonfat dry vanilla latte…?"
"With an extra espresso shot?" Zach guessed. Spencer nodded, a guilty smile forming on her face. "And thanks, by the way, for the house warming present. Ella and I appreciate it. Expect a handwritten thank you note to follow, but I promised her I'd thank you in person as well."
"It was my pleasure," Spencer said. She was happy to see her favorite coffee shop owner and landlord happy with Aria's mother. The couple had just gotten married in a Justice of the Peace ceremony and moved into a new home. She selected a bag of chips and paid for her order, then stepped to the other end of the counter.
While she waited, she glanced around the coffee shop. It was mostly empty, people at work or school in the middle of the afternoon. A couple of Hollis students sat in a corner, books spread around their table, both buried in their notes, completely ignoring the other. A few tables down, a man sat typing away on his laptop while a few women perched in the arm chairs near the loft stairs, talking over lattes. And, at a table by the window, sat Toby Cavanaugh.
Spencer watched him curiously, trying to figure out what he was doing. He hadn't seen her, or at least she didn't think he had, as she'd come down the loft stairs and not had to enter through the door near him. He was bent over what looked to be several pieces of paper, a pencil in hand. He was completely absorbed in what he was doing, a half-eaten muffin and half full mug of coffee perched precariously near the end of the table.
"Spencer? Here you go," one of waitresses said, passing her a drink and a bag containing her wrap.
"Thanks," Spencer said politely. She turned with every intention of going back upstairs but instead, she found her feet taking her towards Toby under no direction from her. He was so wrapped up in what he was doing that he didn't notice her until she spoke. "Toby?" she asked. He started, jarred out of his work zone by the interruption.
"Spencer," he said, surprised. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."
"Clearly," she said, glancing at his work. She saw then that he'd been bent over blueprints. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly nervous. "I um, just wanted to say thank you again, for changing my tire the other day." Toby shook his head.
"It was just a flat tire, Spencer." Changing a tire was the very least he could for her.
"You were right about needing new tires. My car is down the street at Bruce's getting four new ones and who knows what else." Toby shook his head again.
"Should've taken it to Franklin's across town," he said. "Bruce's is convenient but he'll rob you blind."
"Tell me about it," Spencer mumbled. She'd already done the research after Bruce himself had called with a quote earlier that morning and knew it was outrageous but as Toby had said, it was convenient. She looked at Toby who had a guarded sort of expression on his face. "Mind if I sit?" she heard herself asking. It was like someone was operating her body for her.
"Sure," Toby said. For the second time in as many minutes, he looked surprised. Spencer, surprised herself, slid into the booth across from Toby. He rearranged his large sheets papers so she'd have some space to eat and when he did, Spencer realized what the blueprints were for.
"That's the Sanford house!" she exclaimed, leaning forward to get a better look.
"It is," Toby confirmed. "I'm doing some work for her." Spencer looked at him.
"You are?" He nodded.
"She had some changes to the blueprints I showed her the other day. Wants a row of windows, arched doorways…"
"And a fireplace in the new great room," Spencer finished. Toby looked at her and she gave him a guilty sort of grin. "Those were my changes. I'm doing the interior design."
"So you're the 'pretty little designer' that had all these grand ideas," he replied. His insides squirmed a little as he realized he'd likely be seeing a lot more of Spencer.
"One in the same," she confirmed. Her brain suddenly put two and two together. "Wait, you're the architect she was telling me about?"
"Guilty," Toby confirmed. "Or, sort of guilty, I guess. I've still got to pass my licensure exam, but I need a certain amount of work experience before I can take it."
"You're an architect?" Spencer said, trying to decide if she was surprised by that. She knew Toby was a talented carpenter and that he'd sketched out designs from time to time. In another place, it would have made perfect sense that he'd gone on to study architecture. But with their past, she couldn't quite make sense of when he would have gotten the degree to be considered an architect in the first place.
"I had a lot of time on my hands over the last several years," he said, answering her unspoken question. "I needed to keep myself busy so I took some classes, ended up with a degree."
"That's great, Toby," Spencer said, meaning it. The small part of her that didn't resent Toby for his actions was genuinely happy for him.
"And you're an interior designer," he replied. "Bet the Hastings loved that." He knew as well as the next person that Veronica and Peter Hastings planned for Spencer to become a lawyer, just like them.
"It went over well," Spencer said. "They avoided discussing my career choice at all costs until one of their friends at the club came up to my mom and gushed about how much she loved her living room after I was done with it. Then my parents asked me to do the entire downstairs of their house."
"Did you?" Toby asked.
"Yep. Charged them time and a half too." Toby chuckled.
"No family discount?" he asked, teasing her.
"Are you kidding?" Spencer scoffed. "I charged Melissa double." Toby laughed then, a whole, true laugh that made Spencer smile slightly. Toby hadn't laughed much when they were together – no one had laughed much during that time – but she'd always loved the sound when he did.
"How is Melissa these days?" he asked. It was a relatively safe topic, all things considered. He had no idea why Spencer was sitting across from him, what she wanted, if she wanted anything at all. All he knew was he had a deep-rooted need to keep her there, talking with him as long as she possibly would.
"She's doing well," Spencer replied after she chewed the bite of wrap she'd just taken. "She's married now. A nice, boring guy named Michael that she met a few years ago after he moved into the condo next to hers. They have a little girl, Abby. She'll be two next month. And she's officially my favorite Hastings."
"Sounds like things turned out all right for her," Toby said. Spencer nodded.
"Yeah, they did," she agreed. A waitress came to their table to offer Toby a refill. Spencer took the opportunity to really look at him for the first time.
His features had become more distinguished with age, his jawline more pronounced. His hair was cut short, the way she'd liked it when they were dating, and his fitted long sleeve t-shirt did little to hide the fact that his muscles were as defined as they'd ever been. What she noticed most though were the dark circles under his eyes, a telltale sign that he hadn't been sleeping. He turned back to her once the waitress walked away. He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.
"Why'd you come back?" she blurted out. She watched as surprise crossed his features. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I knew that question was coming," he said, more to himself than Spencer. He met her eyes, knowing she deserved the truth instead of the standard 'it was time I paid my family a visit' answer he'd bestowed on the few who had asked him about his return, all friends of his father or stepmother. "My dad…" Toby stopped, finding the words harder than he thought they'd be. He hadn't actually said them out loud. He took a deep breath.
"My dad is sick," he told Spencer. "Really sick. He asked me to come home. I couldn't really deny him."
"Oh, Toby," Spencer said, vaguely recalling that Mr. Cavanaugh had been diagnosed with cancer a couple years ago. He'd undergone treatment and had been in remission ever since. There had been no sign of Toby back then. "I'm so sorry…" Toby shook his head.
"Nothing to be sorry about," he said. "He's sick. It is what it is."
"They can treat him, right?" Spencer asked. "Modern medicine does amazing things now…"
"They can prolong his life," Toby told her. "Make him comfortable. But that's about it. It's terminal this time."
"I'm so sorry," Spencer said again. She both marveled at and hated the fact that she could still feel any sort of compassion towards Toby. That she was somehow sitting across from him, having a relatively normal conversation.
"Thanks," Toby said, giving her a small smile. He looked away then, turning his attention briefly from Spencer to stirring sugar into his coffee. He needed just a moment to pull himself together, to remind him that Spencer wasn't his anymore, that she was merely saying what people said in these situations and the pull he felt towards her was one-sided. Doing his best to shove aside his feelings, he turned back to Spencer.
"I should get back to work," she said, balling up her wrapper.
"I probably should too," Toby said, picking up his pencil again. Spencer stood, gathering her things.
"What firm are you working for?" she asked. She'd worked with a number of area architecture firms and for her own benefit, wanted to know which one Toby was employed by.
"My dad's, actually," he said. Spencer's mouth formed an 'o.' She had completely forgotten that Richard Cavanaugh was an architect. She hadn't worked on any of his builds, but had seen his name floating around here and there, usually in the design newsletters, blogs and magazines she subscribed to.
"I'd forgotten he was an architect," Spencer said.
"He's been taking on fewer jobs lately," Toby explained. "Because of his health and all."
"That's understandable," Spencer replied. She gave Toby a smile. "Thanks again," she said. "I really do need to get back to work." Toby nodded in understanding.
"Bye, Spencer," he said.
"Bye," she replied. Toby was prepared to watch her walk through the front door near where he was seated. He was shocked yet again when she headed towards the back of The Brew and up the stairs that led to his old loft. He turned back to his blueprints with a shake of his head. So much had changed in the last five years, but one thing had stayed the same – Spencer Hastings was still full of surprises.
Now you know what brought Toby back to Rosewood. And (a little of) what he's been up to these past five years. Let me know what you think, please!
