by Brenda Novak
Instead of going to Maddox’s, he drove to The Daily Grind, a quaint redbrick coffee shop with black-and-gold lettering on the windows and comfortable leather chairs. Since Silver Springs didn’t allow chain stores within the city limits, there wasn’t a Starbucks in town or a McDonald’s or any other fast-food joint. There were only mom-and-pop establishments, and of the coffee shops, The Daily Grind was by far the most popular. It was always filled with hipsters typing away on laptops, and this afternoon was no exception.
Tobias figured he’d grab a cup of coffee and hang out for a bit, then go over to the school. He already spent a lot of time at New Horizons, often staying late to help out with football practice, teach the fundamentals of basketball to any students who were hanging around the courts—he’d gotten pretty good at the sport in prison—practice skating with the kids at the new ice rink or tutor those who were taking auto shop. He’d been put away before he could finish high school, so he didn’t have a traditional college education, but he’d taken advantage of whatever classes were offered in prison, and they’d made a decent mechanic out of him. He could fix almost any kind of vehicle and hoped to own his own repair shop one day.
After Tobias placed his order, someone stood up to leave, enabling him to snag a seat at a small corner table near a window that had a Christmas wreath hanging in the middle of it. The guy who’d just walked out had left his newspaper behind, which was lucky. Tobias wanted to check out the sports page and hadn’t thought to buy a paper on his way over, but before he could even turn to that section, he heard the barista call out a name that made him look up.
“Harper!”
He’d only ever heard of one Harper.
A quick glance at the faces around the counter confirmed it was Harper Devlin, the woman he’d noticed at the Eatery last night.
What were the chances that he’d run into her again, especially so soon?
She didn’t hear the barista. At least, she didn’t react when he called her name. Standing to one side, away from the line that snaked out the door, she stared off into space, obviously a million miles away.
That was when Tobias realized there was a song by Pulse playing on the sound system. He could hear Axel Devlin singing, “I will always love you.” Had he written those lyrics for her?
“Harper?” the barista called again.
Still no reaction. She was completely lost in thought.
Dropping the newspaper, Tobias got up and claimed her drink for her. But even as he approached, she didn’t seem to see or hear him.
“Hey, you okay?” He gave her arm a slight nudge as he held out her coffee.
Startled, she glanced up and, as her eyes finally focused, he noticed the shimmer of unshed tears—which she immediately blinked away. “You,” she said, recognizing him.
She took her drink, and he slipped his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Yes, me. But don’t worry, I’m not following you. When I heard the barista call your name, I looked up and there you were.”
She didn’t so much as smile. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay? Because I think you could use a minute to sit down and relax, and I just happen to have a table.” He motioned to where he’d left the paper.
She seemed as lost or bewildered as she’d been last night. “Do you know my sister or my brother-in-law?”
“I’ve only been in town for five months, so I doubt it. What are their names?”
“Karoline and Terrance Mathewson. He’s a podiatrist. She’s a housewife who gets involved in about every good cause that comes along—even helped out with the tree-lighting ceremony downtown a week ago. They have two twelve-year-old daughters, identical twins—Amanda and Miranda.”
“They sound like stellar citizens, so I’m sorry to say no, I’ve never heard of them.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You have no frame of reference where I’m concerned. I’m a total stranger to you.”
“Last night the waitress told me you were Axel Devlin’s wife. I guess that’s a frame of reference.”
Glancing away from him in the crowded coffee shop, she took a sip of her drink. “Is that why you bought me the rose? Because you thought I was married to someone famous and that makes me more desirable?”
She wasn’t wearing makeup. She had on a pair of yoga pants and a parka with ear warmers and looked as though she’d just rolled out of bed. But he couldn’t see how fancier clothes or makeup could make her any more appealing. He loved her golden, dewy-looking skin and the cornflower blue of her eyes. He could all too easily identify with the pain he saw in them.
Actually, that was what drew him more than anything else.
“Your connection to Axel had no bearing on it whatsoever,” he said. “I just thought you were beautiful, and it seemed as though you could use the encouragement.”
Tucking the fine strands of blond hair falling from her ponytail behind her ears, she stepped back. “I’m sorry. I’m—I’m not open to a relationship.”
The compliment had spooked her, as he’d known it might. But he was only being honest. “That’s good.”
She seemed taken aback. “It is?”
“Yes—because I’m the last guy you should ever get with even if you were.”
Her mouth fell open. “Why’s that?”
“Never mind. Now that you have your drink, I’ll leave you alone.”
She caught him by the sleeve as he turned away. “You’re going?”
“Isn’t that what you want me to do?”
She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know. You’re... confusing. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
He couldn’t imagine she’d associated with many ex-cons. No doubt she’d be horrified if he were to tell her he’d spent more than 40 percent of his life behind bars. Chances were she wouldn’t even be willing to talk to him.
He’d met other women like that, who thought he must be the devil incarnate, especially here in Silver Springs, where so many people knew Jada’s family and how he’d hurt them. Some women were drawn to the “danger” of associating with a “bad boy” like him but, sadly, those who were drawn to him were often like Tonya—a mess themselves.
“That’s probably a safe assumption,” he said with a grin.
She seemed further confused by his response and the fact that he not only accepted her words, he agreed with them. “Let me get this straight. What, exactly, are you offering me?”
He gestured at the table. “A seat.”
“That’s all?”
“What more do you want?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now. I feel like I’ve just been put through a meat grinder.”
He’d never experienced heartbreak on the level she seemed to be experiencing it—not the romantic kind. But pain was pain, and he was certainly acquainted with that. “Well...I’m a good listener, if you need to talk.”
She kept her gaze fastened to his as she took another sip of her drink. “A man who looks as good as you do is never quite that harmless.”
He heard the barista call his name above their conversation and those of everyone else in the shop. His coffee was ready. “How long will you be in town?” he asked.
“Not long. Just a few weeks.”
“How much damage could knowing me do in such a short time?”
“I’m already a wreck. I doubt knowing you could do any more damage,” she admitted.
“Then what do you have to lose?” He held out his hand. “Can I see your phone?”
She pulled her cell from her purse and, somewhat skeptically, let him take it, watching as he added his name and number to her contacts. “I’ll leave you alone for today. You can have my table. But if you need a friend while you’re here, you’ve got someone to call,” he said and picked up his drink before walking out.
4
At
least now she knew his name. Harper slid her phone back in her purse and carried her drink over to the window so she could watch Tobias Richardson leave. She thought he might glance back at her. Oddly enough, she sort of wanted him to. There was something intriguing about him. She’d noticed that despite what she was going through, which meant it was obvious. At least to her.
But he didn’t look back. He took a sip of his coffee as he strode purposefully toward the parking lot and disappeared from view.
With a sigh, she turned to take the table he’d vacated, only to find that someone else had beaten her to it. A young girl wearing a beanie similar to the one he’d been wearing was just pushing his newspaper out of the way and setting up her laptop.
“Are you Axel Devlin’s wife?”
The voice came from right behind her. Harper cringed inside as she turned to see who’d asked that question. Fame had its benefits. Since Axel’s music had taken off, they hadn’t had to worry about how they’d cover the basics. That had come as a relief. It had been lean in the early years, when she’d been struggling to support them, especially because their first child had come so fast. But the loss of privacy was difficult, especially for an introvert like her.
Anyway, for the past several months, this question was the one she’d dreaded most. She didn’t know how to answer it. Or, rather, she was reluctant to answer it. At first it was because she’d hoped Axel would change his mind and stop the proceedings, that it would never go this far. And now that their divorce was almost a done deal, she was embarrassed to have failed. She didn’t want to call herself his ex-wife. Considering how hard she’d tried to be the best mother and spouse she could, she’d never thought she’d be anyone’s ex.
Somehow, she managed a smile and hoped it didn’t appear as wobbly as it felt. “Yes.” She had two more days before “yes” would be a lie, so she was going with it. “Someone’s waiting for me. I’m afraid I have to go,” she mumbled and cut through the crowd before the young woman who’d engaged her could say anything more.
Keeping her head down so that no one else could catch her eye, she hurried toward the safety of her Range Rover, and then on to the privacy of her sister’s empty house. There, she wouldn’t have to worry about prying questions, curious stares or the pitying smiles of those who’d already heard about the demise of her marriage. She could be completely alone.
But now that her sister’s family and her own children were gone, she wasn’t sure being alone felt any better, which was why she’d gone to the coffee shop in the first place.
* * *
You busy tonight? If not, can you come by the store? I want you to try my new cookies. I think I’m really onto something with this one.
Tobias smiled as he read that text from Maya. He’d just pulled into his driveway and parked in front of his house after spending the afternoon skating with quite a few of the students at New Horizons. Although he hadn’t had much experience with ice-skating when he was a kid—someone who’d grown up in sunny LA, and as poor as he’d been, didn’t have much opportunity to get on the ice—he’d been a natural on rollerblades and that skill had easily transferred over. He’d gotten good enough that he wished he’d had the chance to play hockey, or any other organized sport, when he was a kid. Prison had taken such a huge chunk of his life.
But he couldn’t feel sorry for himself. It was because of him that Atticus hadn’t had the chance to play sports, either. Atticus couldn’t ice-skate or do anything else that required the use of his legs even now. Which was the only reason Tobias wasn’t already backing up to go try those cookies at Sugar Mama. He was leery of going anywhere near the cookie shop. He never knew when he might run into Susan—Maya’s grandmother and Jada’s mother—who owned the store. Susan hated him so much she gave new meaning to the saying “If looks could kill.” One night back in August, she came over to his house and physically attacked him. He deserved that and more—honestly, he didn’t blame her for her hurt and anger—but that didn’t mean he was going to put himself in a situation where she might go off on him again.
While he was staring at his phone, trying to decide whether to take the risk for Maya’s sake, Uriah knocked on his window.
Tobias jumped. He hadn’t seen the old man coming. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked after rolling down his window.
“Would you like to come in and have some dinner? Hazel Saunders brought over a delicious taco casserole an hour ago, and I’ve got it warming in the oven.”
Tobias wasn’t one to miss a home-cooked meal. After having a mother who rarely bothered to feed them, and then eating prison grub for thirteen years, there wasn’t anything he enjoyed more. He was hungry, too. But when he saw movement from the corner of his eye, he realized Carl was standing in the shadows, looking on, and hesitated.
Uriah was just being nice, trying to include him. Tobias didn’t want him acting out of obligation, though—not when he had the opportunity to enjoy a meal with his son after being estranged for so many years. Rebuilding that relationship took precedence over all else.
“I’d love to, but I’ve already got other plans,” he said. “Maya’s invented another cookie. She wants me to rush right over and give it a try.”
Uriah’s craggy face registered a hint of understanding, as though he knew Tobias was trying to make himself scarce. “You sure you won’t have a quick bite before you go? There’s plenty...”
“No, I’ll grab something in town. Do you need groceries or anything else while I’m out?”
The orchard where they lived wasn’t more than ten minutes from the store. It wasn’t a big deal to make a supply run. But, as a matter of convenience, they often did this kind of favor for each other. “Gallon of milk would be good, if you happen to remember.”
“You got it,” Tobias said and pretended not to see Carl scowling at him from Uriah’s porch as he backed down the drive.
After scouting out the alley behind Sugar Mama to be sure Susan’s car wasn’t there, Tobias parked down the street from the store, so that no one would see his truck directly in front of it. He was just getting out when he heard his phone ping. He’d gotten another text.
He assumed it was from Maya, that she was wondering if he was coming or not since he’d never replied to her first message. But when he dug his phone from his pocket, he could see that it was from a number he didn’t recognize.
I shouldn’t call him, right?
Call who? he wondered. Since there was no introduction, no preface to that one sentence, Tobias at first assumed it was a wrong number. He almost wrote back to say as much, but then he remembered giving his number to Harper Devlin this morning.
This couldn’t be her, could it?
Who’s ‘him’? he texted back so he wouldn’t have to ask, “Who’s this?”
Axel.
He stiffened. Sure enough, it was Harper. She’d reached out to him. Instead of heading to the store, he leaned against his truck while he responded. You realize that by texting me, you’ve given me your number.
Yes, but you don’t know where I’m staying. Anyway, you said you weren’t dangerous.
Define dangerous.
Any kind of threat to my well-being.
Then I’m not dangerous.
There was a long pause before she wrote: Under what kind of definition would you be dangerous?
He chose not to answer that question. If he just wanted to be her friend, to provide a shoulder she could cry on, she didn’t need to know he was a felon. You should definitely NOT call Axel.
No question? Your answer is an unequivocal no?
It’s an unequivocal no. That’s why I put the emphasis on not. ;-)
Explain to me why. I think that’s what I need to hear.
You had to ask me, didn’t you? That means you’re fighting the urge, and if you’re fighting the urge it’s because you know better.
I just m
iss him so much...
Go spend some time with your kids and quit thinking about him. He’ll either come back or he won’t. Leave that up to him.
I’m pretty sure he’s not coming back. The divorce will be final in two days. And he doesn’t act like he cares at all.
Then it’s his loss, Harper. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. You’ll eventually recover and be just fine without him.
It doesn’t feel like that’s possible. Anyway, I can’t spend time with my kids right now. They’re in LA with my sister and her family.
Until when?
Next weekend.
So you’re alone?
For the entire week.
You could get yourself into a lot of trouble in that much time. Why didn’t you go with them?
I thought I wanted to be alone. I thought I needed some time to think. So did my sister.
But it’s not helping?
This is only Day 1, and already I’m going crazy, teetering on the brink of caving and begging him to come back.
Tell me you’re not drinking.
What does that have to do with anything?
If you’re drinking, you will cave.
I’m not drinking. Although...I’m considering it. It would be a relief to climb inside a bottle. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.
Then consider this: the only thing worse than breaking down and calling him when you know you shouldn’t would be drunk calling him. And when you sober up? You’ll just have to face what you did while you were drunk.
You’re right. So...how do I stop myself?
He stared at her text for several seconds while considering his response. Get your mind on something else.
That’s impossible. Have you ever been through a divorce?
No. Never been married.
Why not?
Because he’d been a kid when he went into prison, and he’d only been out for five months. Just haven’t found the right girl, I guess.