“...But your grandfather explained to me how you’ve nearly bankrupted The Garden in the short time you’ve been running it. I had hoped to be a long-term member there, but I think I’ll be moving my business over to Sandy Pines.”
I gritted my teeth in frustration. I’d been right.
I told Ross goodbye, then turned back to Alisha and Mandy, who were helping me sort through old and new membership files at the front desk.
“You can archive Oliver Ross’ membership file.” I slipped my phone into my pocket and turned to go.
“You know he’s been here, right?”
Turning around, I found Mandy leaning against the counter, resting her head in her hands.
“Who’s been here?” I asked her.
“Alec Dunaway. He was here with a woman.”
I groaned. I knew he didn’t want me to succeed, but I hadn’t expected him to take an active part in making me fail. Thank goodness business was picking up in spite of his efforts.
“Next time he shows up, please call me right away.”
She nodded and motioned to Alisha over her shoulder. “We’ll make sure everyone knows that.”
“Thank you.” Walking away, I made a conscious effort not to storm off. Just because my grandfather was causing problems didn’t mean I had to lose my temper.
As I walked past the restaurant, I glanced inside. The brunette from singles-mingle night was there again. She’d been coming regularly for the last month. When her eyes landed on me, she leaped out of her seat, knocking her water glass over.
“Hi Noah!” She waved. “Do you have time for a drink?”
I forced a smile. “Busy right now, but thanks.”
I practically ran upstairs to my office and pulled my phone from my pocket. Page had texted while I was talking with Oliver.
Page: Why do some people have to be so lame?
Noah: Bad day at work?
Page: What gave me away?
Noah: Tell me about it. I’ve had a long day too.
Page: Let’s talk it over while we eat popcorn and watch a movie with Cameron tonight.
Noah: It’s a deal.
“You came!” Cameron shouted as he opened the front door to his parents’ house. Unfortunately, with how much I’d been working, I hadn’t been able to make it to a Cameron/Page hang out night since before we started dating.
I passed him the ice cream container but kept the flowers to hand to Page myself.
“I didn’t want to miss out on movie night. What are we watching tonight?”
I toed off my dress shoes wishing I had taken the time to go home and change into jeans. But since I was excited to see Page, I didn’t want to waste an hour for a pair of jeans.
Page stood at the stovetop, stirring a pot. She turned and smiled. “You brought flowers!”
“And ice cream,” Cameron added as he stuck it in the freezer.
Page stepped away from the stove and leaned up on her tiptoes, giving me a quick kiss. “You’re just in time for dinner. I’m making my specialty.”
“You can cook? Why didn’t I know about this before?”
She nodded and gestured to the pot behind her. “Best box mac and cheese you’ll ever eat.”
I laughed as I traded her the flowers for the spoon. She found a vase in the lower cabinet while I stirred the noodles. “Is it supposed to be sticking to the bottom?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course, it’s called crusty mac and cheese for a reason.”
I shook my head and pulled the pot off the burner. I glanced at Cameron. “How do you feel about bowling and pizza?”
“Really?” Cameron asked. He headed straight to the door and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes.
“Oh, come on! My mac and cheese is not that bad!” Page protested. She set the flowers in a vase then jerked the spoon out of my hand. She vigorously scraped the bottom of the pot with the metal spoon.
“You’re so right; it isn’t that bad,” I reassured her as a few black noodles flew out of the pan, sizzling on the stovetop.
“Hush up, you. You’ve never tried my mac and cheese.” She smacked my chest with the spoon as she leaned past me to shut off the stove. “I’ll bring you mac and cheese for lunch tomorrow. Then you can eat your heart out, Noah Dunaway.”
She slipped her feet out of a pair of fuzzy slippers and into a pair of shoes. She sniffed. “I guess we could handle some pizza right now.” She opened the door and slammed it behind herself.
Cameron looked at me and shrugged. “She’s a little touchy when it comes to cooking. She really wanted to make you dinner, but she’s an awful cook.”
“You can say that again.”
We went to a bowling alley and ate greasy pizza—the only food that can be disgusting and wonderful at the same time. Page decided she wasn’t too mad at me since the macaroni really had turned black. I suspected she liked the idea of me making a fool of myself at a bowling alley—especially since she’d been teasing me about wearing bowling shoes with a suit.
We sat at a small table—that I didn’t dare look at closely—while we watched Cameron perfect his spin-and-throw technique with a bright-pink bowling ball.
“He’s a fun kid.”
Page nodded as she took a big bite of pepperoni pizza. “He’ll do.”
I smiled at that, knowing she adored him from the short time we’d been dating. “Obviously, that’s why you live in the tiny house. You can’t stand your brother.”
One of her eyebrows twitched. “You’re right, of course. I wanted to get as far from him as possible. That’s why I live in the backyard.”
“Why do you live in the backyard? I know you love to travel. I guess I’m surprised that you’re not living in a flat in the middle of Paris.” I took a bite of my pizza, the cheese stretching away from the slice.
Page rested her chin in her hand as she watched Cameron attempt to throw the bowling ball backward. “I enjoy hanging out with him. Besides, Mom and Dad are busy with the twins.”
“Wait—aren’t they in high school?”
Page nodded as she picked off another piece of pepperoni and ate it. “They have lots of activities they’re involved in. Mom and Dad are always helping them with different things. They don’t have a lot of time left for Cameron. That’s why I pick him up from school.”
There was something messed up with that. “That isn’t right.”
“What?” she asked as she took a drink of her coke.
“That’s not your job.”
“I know.” She groaned. Then she lowered her voice, “I know—but it’s my parents, and I love them. I love Cameron too.”
I couldn’t imagine my mother taking advantage of me the way Page’s parents were. They needed to raise their own kids—all of them. “I don’t see what’s tying you down here. I think a lot of this pressure you put on yourself. If you talked with your parents, it might surprise you to find that they would support you.”
She looked down at the pizza and focused on stacking olive slices on top of each other. “Yeah. But if I talk to them, then I won’t have any excuses.”
“Excuses?”
She nodded as her olive tower toppled over. “I don’t know what to do with my life. If I stay there, I never have to put myself out there and discover what to do. I can be happy hanging out with my brother, taking trips on the weekends, and never worrying about carving out my own place in the world.”
It didn’t feel like the right time to say anything, so I didn’t.
“The truth is, I’m scared. Scared to try. Scared that I won’t find something I like. Scared I won’t fit in.”
“You won’t fit in.”
She glanced up at me, her mouth parted in surprise.
“Do you want to know why?”
“Maybe not.”
I leaned forward and grabbed her hand, hoping to help her see what I saw in her. “I’ll tell you anyway. You weren’t made to fit in. No matter where you go, you’re going to stand out. You’re energetic. Yo
u’re unafraid in the moment. You’re kind, thoughtful, and overly generous with live animals.”
She laughed at that.
“You don’t have to fit in. I don’t want you to change. I love every part about you.”
“I’m such a loser. I’m twenty-six years old and living in my parents’ backyard.”
“And look at everything you’ve done! You’ve traveled all over the United States; you’ve taught yourself to sketch.” I left out the painting part, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “You’ve invested in a coffee shop—don’t look so shocked, Cletus told Grandma, and Grandma told me. No wonder he can’t fire you—you own a share of it.”
She focused her attention on the olives again. “It seemed like a good use of my money. I feel like I’m ready to find something that I love. It has been so much fun planning this art night for you. It’s made me realize it’s time to find a job I love like that—even find a place that will be all my own.”
“When are you moving out?”
Pressing her might not be the best idea, but she talked about her dreams all the time. She needed to do something about them.
“Hey, now. When you say it like that, it sounds like I live in my childhood bedroom. I have my own house, thank you very much.”
“It’s microscopic—and I know you don’t like it.”
“Fine. Since you know me so well, what would I like?” She was getting huffy now, but that was okay. I didn’t mind her being mad at me, as long as she finally did something that she wanted to. She was scared, and I wanted to help her. I knew she had big dreams—she just needed someone to support her in them.
“I think you need time to go travel the way you would like to. I think you need someone who will support you in the job that you love. Someone who can encourage you even if it seems scary.”
She sniffed. “I don’t know if you’re making me cry or if it’s the pepperoni.”
“Definitely the pepperoni.”
“Why do you have to be so observant?”
“Because I care about you, and I want you to be happy.”
She leaned across the table to wipe a little pizza sauce off my face. “Let’s stop talking about my problems. Let’s talk about yours—they’re much more interesting. How are things at the golf course?”
I cleared my throat then took a sip of my lemonade. “What do you mean, how is the course?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. She didn’t seem fooled by my innocent voice. “You still need more members, don’t you?”
“We’re beginning to grow. You don’t have to worry about it. No more mascots, right?”
She pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows at me. “I was sure I’d doomed the golf course that day. That’s why I felt so guilty over killing Lucifer.”
I laughed. “I still can’t believe you sent me a one-legged chicken to make up for it.”
She gave me a mischievous grin. “I still can’t believe I talked Kylie into hauling a goat in the back of her car.”
“You didn’t even use your car?”
She winked. “And have the smell of billy-goat stuck in it? No, thank you.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “I hope I get to meet this Kylie someday.”
“Oh, you will. It’s inevitable if you stick around long enough.”
“I plan on sticking around.” It was my turn to wink at her.
“And now that you’ve tried to change the subject, let’s get back to talking about the golf course. How bad is it?” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but I have the art night all planned for when you’re ready for it.”
I flipped my hand over to hold hers. “It’s okay. I enjoy talking to you. I guess it’s a little embarrassing to admit that we haven’t been growing as fast as I’d like. I’m trying to pull us out of the hole, but it takes time to gain that traction. We hired better staff, which will help in the long run, but it means our finances took another hit after payday this month.”
“So, you’re saying if you had some extra money right now, you’d be fine?”
“Maybe. Probably. But it will all work out in the end. Either our renovations and restaurant trials will be worth it, or I’ll be forced to try something else.”
“You’ll fix it. I know you will.” She stood up and leaned over the table to plant a quick kiss on my forehead, then my lips.
“Gross.” Cameron plopped onto the seat next to me. “Nobody wants to see old people kiss.”
“Old people?” Page asked as she wrapped an arm around his neck. “Are you ‘old people’ too?”
“Oh, no!” Cameron wailed and laughed at the same time as Page landed a smacking kiss on his cheek. They both dissolved into giggles as they talked about which was more disgusting: kisses or bowling alley floors.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
PAGE
“Here’s your coffee.” I passed a mug across the counter to Caroline, who was there for her morning date with Cletus.
It had been a week since bowling with Noah. I’d officially quit at Carlotta’s, which was fine. Lottie didn’t seem upset about it and was still happy to help by lending paintings for the art and wine night at The Garden. My tiny house was bursting at the seams with boxes of décor for the night. I wanted it to be perfect.
Noah was happy to leave all of the decorating to me, and he was genuinely excited for the art night. I was still worried about him with how much he was working. But the good news was, he picked an official date for the art night and was already advertising for it.
“Thank you, dear.” Caroline dropped some cash in the tip jar, and I smiled at her. She didn’t leave. Instead, she rested her large purse on the counter and took a sip of her coffee. “You’re dating my grandson.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“That’s wonderful. Noah’s such a sweetheart, and I’ve been worried that he hasn’t made enough time in life for the important things.”
“The important things?”
“Oh, you know, family, friends—girlfriends. I’ve been worried about him.”
I leaned a hip against the counter. “What exactly worried you about him?”
She wrapped her slender, veined hands around the white mug. She glanced behind her as though Noah might be lurking there. “Noah’s so determined to not be like his grandfather, that I’m worried he’ll end up just like Alec.”
A customer stepped up to the till, and I snapped my fingers at Tanya. I was in the middle of a meaningful conversation. She could do her job for once.
“From what I’ve heard, he’s not anything like his grandfather, though I’ve never met the man.”
“Alec wasn’t always the way he is now.”
“Why does that sound so ominous?”
Caroline smiled sadly. “He used to be driven. He had ideas. Lots of ideas. Loved making a business go.”
I nodded, understanding her meaning. Noah had that same drive, too. I knew he thrived on the challenge of making a business profitable. It’s why he couldn’t walk away from the golf course. He felt that internal pressure to make it work. His worth was tied up in how well he did in business. I’d have to do something about that.
“When I married Alec, he thrived on a challenge the same as Noah. Then it became the challenge of starting something new. Always something new. Eventually, as time went on, he began looking for those challenges in other ways—if you know what I mean.”
Yes, Noah had mentioned his grandfather’s affairs. I nodded, not wanting to voice it out loud to Caroline.
“He didn’t want to settle down. I raised our children, and he raised money—then spent it just as fast. When he no longer tried to keep those things a secret from me, I knew it was time to go. It wasn’t a relationship I wanted to be modeled in front of our son and daughter.”
“You two seem to be having a serious talk. I hope it’s not about me,” Cletus said as he stepped out from the back room. “I’m s
orry I was late again, Caroline. That supplier was trying to raise delivery fees.”
“Must be the same one Noah’s been dealing with,” I commented. Cletus glared at me.
“Am I paying you to stand here and talk?”
“I don’t know, are you?”
He grumbled to himself while he filled a cup of coffee from the house coffee carafe. “One of these days, I’m going to fire you. I’m getting too old to deal with your attitude.”
“And I’m too young to deal with yours.”
“Children, please,” Caroline cut in with a laugh. “We’ll talk later, Page.”
She patted my hand then followed Cletus to their regular table.
I was sure she was wrong. Noah was nothing like his grandfather. Sure, work had required a lot from him lately, but that would only be for a short season.
All he needed was help with the financial stress. He wouldn’t turn into his grandfather, right?
Knocking on my parents’ front door, I didn’t wait for an answer before I opened it. I used knocking as a courtesy warning to my mother. She didn’t like being surprised by finding me in the kitchen.
I stepped inside the house and shut the door quickly behind me, careful to not let the heat in.
“Mom! Where are you?”
“In the kitchen!” She called back. I stepped past the short entry hall and around the corner into the kitchen.
Baked goods covered every visible flat surface.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
She wiped her hands on her apron that said Kiss Pay the Cook, then walked over to plant a kiss on my cheek. “How are you, dear?” She hurried back to the mixer and shut it off.
“I’m good, Mom. What’s all this?” Cupcakes, cookies, and pies lined the counter.
“Oh, the girls are part of a bake sale tomorrow for their dance team.”
“Why aren’t they in here helping?”
“They’re over at a friend’s this afternoon,” she explained as she scooped out some frosting from the mixer and began spreading it on a chocolate cake.
Why was I not surprised? I headed to the sink and washed my hands.
“Mom, you’re good at saving money.” It was the understatement of the year. My mother could walk out of the grocery store with a prime rib for a dollar. Actually, she could probably get the grocery store to pay her to take it.
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