by Marlie May
“Who are these people?” I waved to the newbies.
“We needed more staff to handle the influx of business,” Kevin said softly. With a smile, he greeted a third person I’d never seen, who’d walked in through the front door and continued into the main part of the plant.
An influx of business? I sighed, wondering what had gone on here while I’d been occupied. My lips curled down. “Okay. More staff.” I’d deal with that component later. “Where’s the pricing board?”
“Took it down.”
Sam nodded as if Kevin needed confirmation.
This was a complete mess. I’d have to fix it. “We need to talk. Come on.” I strode down the hall to my office, leaving him to follow.
Sam kept pace with us. Did she think Kevin needed protection? Annoyance burned through my veins. No one could accuse me of being cruel to my staff.
I trusted them.
Trusted?
Yeah, don’t think about that. This wasn’t about trust. It was about doing a good job.
Entering my office, I took the chair behind my desk. Sam leaned against the wall just inside, arms crossed, her features tight as if she couldn’t decide who to be more worried about: Kevin or me.
Kevin did not sit, even though I waved to indicate that he should. “As I said, we took down the board. Made the tastings free.”
Free? Great. I’d soon face financial ruin all over again.
The tension in Kevin’s shoulders and the narrowing of his brow told me I needed to remain patient. Not let my irritation about my personal life leak into this situation, like I had the last time.
After taking a deep breath and releasing it, I spoke calmly, even though I raged inside. “If we don’t charge, we lose money.”
“It’s a proven model,” Kevin said firmly. As if he couldn’t see the storm clouds gathering around me. “People buy more if they get something for free. We made the samples smaller, though.”
I shook my head because there was no doubt about it. I needed to take control again. Probably of the Brew House, too. I hadn’t discovered any issues there yet, but it was only a matter of time. I’d barely had a second to enjoy loosening the reins. But, like always, if you didn’t do it yourself, it wasn’t done right.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That was the wrong decision.” If I put the sign back up fast, it would lessen the damage. I could salvage this still. “You’ll have to return to your floor job.”
Kevin blinked, then sputtered. His face grew redder than the sun the morning before a stormy day. “Then I quit.” He pivoted and strode from my office.
Perfect. Now I would have to look for more staff. Maybe one of the newbies out front held some potential.
Sam unfolded her arms and advanced toward my desk. Her bright face matched Kevin’s, which made no sense. What was her problem?
“Don’t you ever give anyone a chance to explain?” she asked, sarcasm ringing in her voice.
I tipped back in my chair, moving away before her irritation hit me in a palpable wave. “What’s to explain? He made the wrong decision.”
She braced her palms on my desk and leaned forward. “You sure about that?”
“Can you imagine the hit to our revenue?”
Taking a seat, Sam plunked her booted feet on the corner of my desk, even though I scowled. “You know I often make the deposits for you at the end of the day. Profits are up twenty-five percent already.”
My jaw dropped.
“After only one week,” she added, studying her nails.
“But, but…That’s not possible.”
“Why? Because you didn’t think of the idea yourself? I keep telling you, you need to trust the people around you.”
“I do.”
She growled. “Now I have to wonder if you gave Cara a chance to explain what happened, or if you made assumptions like you did with Kevin.”
“I let her explain.” Hadn’t I? Maybe.
No, I’d shut her down.
My face grew hot.
Sam always could read me. “Roan.” Said like all the other disappointed women in my life lately. “Go after Kevin. Beg his forgiveness. Give him a raise if you have to, if that’s what it takes to convince him to come back. He’s good for Spicy Concoctions. Good for you, too, because he takes some weight off your shoulders. Am I not right?”
No reason for her to smirk.
Or for me to slump in my chair. “Yeah.”
She flapped her hands. “Go on. Go on! Before he gets away.”
Rising, I chased Kevin down in the parking lot and apologized. I promised to give him a raise if he’d come back inside. Fortunately, he was willing to give me another chance, with the right financial incentive, that is. I was going to go broke within a month. But I needed him, even if I’d only just come to that realization. Returning inside, I sat in my chair.
Sam continued to study her nails. “Tell me something,” she said. Gathering her thoughts took so long, I almost rose to get a cup of coffee. “Did Lainie break you?”
I leaned away, smacking my back against my chair. “What? No.”
Sam’s eyes penetrated mine. “Must’ve, if what she did made you drive Cara away.”
What was it with everyone and Lainie? This wasn’t about my ex. “It’s not that.”
“Isn’t it?”
When did my sister become a closet psychologist? First Mom, now her. I didn’t need this type of interrogation from my own family.
“You couldn’t get even with Lainie,” Sam said. She must be able to tell I was ready to get up and stomp out of the room.
My hands gripped my chair, blanching white. “It’s not about her. I told you.”
“Sure, the witch got jail time,” Sam said. As if I hadn’t spoken. “But the money was gone. She didn’t truly pay, now did she?”
“It’s taken me a year to dig myself out of that hole.”
“And now that you have, you’ve dug yourself another.”
“I really don’t have time for this.” I stood. “I’ve got things to do before the birthday party.”
“I think you transferred the debt to Cara,” Sam said. “And to some extent, everyone else around you.”
“That’s not true.” I paused in the doorway, my back to my sister. I should turn, except I couldn’t bear for her to see the expression on my face. Because my innards were sinking down to the center of the Earth. “I put Lainie behind me.”
“Don’t think so.”
“You don’t know me.”
She came up behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder. “I’ve had your number since the moment Mom settled you in my arms at the hospital. You were a beet-faced, squalling thing, but I loved you already.”
“You’ve been an awesome sister.”
She chuckled. “That’s right. I’m the only sister you’ll ever have.”
My laugh joined in with hers, and my body loosened. I was able to turn without fearing what she’d see. “True. But you’re still special.”
“Thanks.” Her voice sobered. “Will you please think about what I said about Cara?”
I did need to think about the woman I’d loved in one way or another for most of my life.
And about trust.
Cara
The day I was hosting Arie’s birthday party was overcast. Sullen. Which fit my mood perfectly.
I put on one of Arie’s favorite playlists while driving to my apartment, where I’d arranged to host her party. The invites had gone out over a week ago, and while I’d planned to let everyone know that the venue had changed to Roan’s house, I’d left things as is once he left me.
While a bunch of chirpy pre-teens serenaded us with On Top of Old Smokey, I mentally planned everything I needed to get done today. Decorations. Check. Cake. Made it yesterday. Helium tank? I’d rented one and dropped it off earlier in the week.
I parked out front, and with our arms loaded, we took the path and stairs to the apartment, singing a song about buzzing bumble bees as we stomp
ed on the wooden treads.
I’d only started to put up streamers when someone knocked on the door. Since Arie was in the bathroom, I answered.
Bethany and John stood on the threshold. From the creases etched into Bethany’s forehead, I could assume their lawyers had shared the test results.
John was only five years older than his wife, but now, he looked twenty.
Bethany charged past me, leaving behind a cloud of something floral. “How dare you steal my grandchild from me?”
I couldn’t deal with this now. In fact, I couldn’t deal with it tomorrow or next week. Enough was enough. I was done cowering from her anger. “Actually, Jason stole Arie from Roan. You do realize that your son forged a new copy of the test results.” Fists clenched by my sides, my body trembled. “He lied to everyone. Me included. He took a child from her father. He stole the future I might’ve had with Roan.”
Bethany flinched like I’d hit her. But she was the one who dealt words like swords.
“There, there.” John patted Bethany’s arm. His gaze turned to me, mournful, as if he’d lost a chunk of his soul. “We’re stunned, of course. We never saw this coming.”
Neither had I.
What a cluster. I hated Jason. From beyond the grave, he still interfered.
“We came to see Arie,” Bethany finally said.
“Please,” John added. “We dropped the case. We won’t make waves, but could we see her, even if it’s just once more?”
I could understand clinging to something you loved when you knew you’d soon lose it. If I’d clung to Roan, made him sit down and listen, would he be standing beside me now?
While Jason had manipulated me, I’d allowed it. Somehow, admitting that to myself made me feel stronger. I’d made mistakes—we all did—but I’d learned from mine.
Bethany clutched her hands to her chest. “I feel like I’ve lost my son all over again.” She lifted a bag stuffed with gaily wrapped gifts. “We brought Arie presents. To us, she’ll always be our grandchild.”
Their only grandchild.
Before I could speak, Arie ran into the room. “Grammie! Grandpa!” She bowled them over with hugs.
When Bethany looked up from where she had stooped down to hold Arie, tears streaked her face.
Arie glanced from her to me, then frowned. Her eyes swam. “Mommy? Why are you and Grammie crying?”
Bending forward, I opened my arms and she ran into them. “We just got something in our eyes. Like that time you got sand in your eyes at the beach. Remember how much you cried?”
“That hurt.” She pulled away. Concern still filled her little face, and she rubbed my shoulder. “I’m sorry you got a boo-boo in your eye. You, too, Grannie. Want me to kiss ‘em?”
“It’s okay.” I straightened. “It’s gone now.”
“I’m feeling better already, too.” Bethany leaned forward and held out her arms for another hug. Over Arie’s head, she stared up at me and mouthed, “Thank you.”
I hated that it had come to this because neither of us had won.
When Bethany stood, John put his arm around her shoulders. I could tell the grin he pressed onto his face wasn’t real, but Arie would not be able to tell the difference. To her, her beloved grandparents were here to celebrate a special day with her.
While Bethany had been horrible for most of the time I’d known her, there was no disputing she loved my daughter. This must be tearing them apart.
“We won’t stay for the party,” she said softly. Her body quivered, and suddenly, she looked aged, frail.
I was the strong one, now.
“We wanted to see her open our gifts,” she said. “We brought them special, all the way from California.”
While Arie tore into the paper and then ran to the sofa to play with her new video gaming system, I stared at my former mother-in-law. In her gaze, I read acceptance. And endless sorrow.
But while I could feel sympathy, I couldn’t forgive her for trying to steal my daughter from me.
Like Roan thought I’d stolen Arie from him.
My heart ached for all of us, but mostly for Roan. I understood his anger. How could I not? On the surface, this had looked bad. But what I couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t trusted me enough to listen.
“Would you mind if we checked in to see how Arie’s doing sometimes?” Bethany lifted a pale hand toward me before pulling it back. “I understand if you feel you must say no.”
Despite how she’d acted, she’d believed her custody suit was motivated by caring.
“Give us some time,” I said. We needed to tell Arie Roan was her father and settle into a routine that provided her with a stable family. But she’d lost the man she believed was her father. She’d be scared if I cut her grandparents completely out of her life, as well.
“Of course,” John said.
Bethany’s shoulders shook, but she nodded.
After kissing Arie one last time, they departed. They left behind a hollow feeling inside of me that could never be filled. But I tried, by enlisting Arie’s help in hanging the Happy Birthday banner on the wall.
“How are you with balloons?” I asked her after.
She jumped in the air. “Love ‘em.”
I dragged the silver helium tank closer to the sofa. We filled what felt like a thousand balloons, attaching strings and letting them fly free around the apartment like colorful ghosts. After, we set the table with matching birthday cups and plates.
Arie darted her finger out at the cake I’d made—dinosaur-shaped—and stuffed it into her mouth. “Yum.” Eyes gleaming, she raced around the table and hugged my side. “Thanks, Mommy.” She hopped and the cowboy boots Sam had given her the other day clicked on the hardwood floor. “How much longer before my friends come?”
“Any time.” I patted her back. “I’m pretty excited, too.” Arie’s enthusiasm nudged away the last of my sadness. I was determined to make this day perfect for her.
Three boys and three girls arrived, their parents tugging off coats, hats, and mittens. En masse, the parents headed out the door, saying they’d be back by three.
Sam stomped into the apartment like a welcome breeze on a steamy day. She’d volunteered to organize party games, and I’d given her full rein.
“Outa my way, outa my way,” she shouted to the awed kids gathering around her. Her arms were loaded with a piñata horse, a pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey-game, and a big bag with enough party favors for twenty-five kids. I grabbed the piñata before she dropped it, and she lowered everything else onto the sofa, groaning. “I hope this is enough.” She commandeered the kids to hang the piñata from the ceiling, and the donkey game on the wall.
Behind me, the door blew open. In came Dad and Barbie to round out our merry group.
“Gramps.” Arie raced across the room to hug them. They set their gifts with the others in the dining room and returned to join us.
“Your decorations look great,” Barbie said as I hugged her.
I leaned into her side, smiling at how festive the place looked. “They do, don’t they?”
Camila arrived while the kids were poking tails onto the donkey and rushed over to snatch up her own tail. Her giggle when Arie guided her toward the donkey’s head made me snicker along with them.
“Cara, you got a minute?” Dad asked.
Nodding to Sam—who saluted in reply—I walked with him into the kitchen, where it was relatively quiet.
“I need to ask you something.” He crossed his arms. Unlinked them. Crossed them again.
I leaned my hip against the counter, unable to fathom why he was so nervous. Did he bring Arie an unusual gift? Hopefully not a pony.
“…married.” He studied my face.
“What?”
“I plan to ask Barbie to marry me and figured you might have some ideas about how I could do it.”
Bumping away from the counter, I unlinked his arms and hugged him, grateful all over again I’d moved home and could share this moment
with him. “How about taking her out to dinner? Or, you could propose while taking a walk in the park. They still turn on the Christmas lights at night.”
“I like that. Both ideas, actually.” His arms tightened around me, and he winced. “You think guys still get down on one knee nowadays?”
“I have no clue, but it can’t hurt.” I snorted, imagining Dad popping the question. I had a feeling Barbie would say yes.
He pulled back and grinned down at me. “You’re good at this. Knew you were the right one to ask. I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to think of a good way to do it. Should’ve asked you sooner.”
I smiled.
“Love you, dearling.”
His words made my throat tighten, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Love you, too, Daddy.”
We rejoined the party, Dad gesturing for me to go ahead of him through the dining room. “You don’t mind that I bought my granddaughter a TV, do you?”
I frowned. “You really didn’t, Dad, did you?”
His eyes twinkled. “Kid needs her own set to watch cartoons.”
I groaned but then chuckled because, if I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. And I’d done too much of that already. It was time to put my sadness behind me. With Dad settling with Barbie and Arie’s future secure, I should only feel grateful.
Dad joined Barbie on the sofa, while I halted in the doorway between the dining room and the living area.
Roan had arrived. He knelt in front of Arie, his arms overflowing with brightly-wrapped gifts.
I knew he’d come today, but it still hurt to see him. I missed him, even more than I’d missed him six years ago. Mostly, though, I was sad. Because there would never be another us. We’d had our second chance, and there would never be a third.
Those tears I hated filled my eyes, and I pushed them away with my fingers.
His coat lay over the chair like it had when he’d visited after I moved home. His scarf hung down the front of his sweater. Damn, but I loved that scarf.
Rising, he patted Arie’s soft curls. He walked toward me, stopping a few steps away. We said nothing for a long while. I drank in the sight of him, my heart bleeding.
“How are you?” he said gruffly.