“That’s right.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Rosa Galvez. I live upstairs, third floor.”
“Any relation to Anna Galvez?” he asked as he petted the dog with his free hand.
Rosa nodded. “She’s my aunt, sort of. I was adopted by her brother and his wife, anyway, when I was a teenager.”
He sensed a definite story there, especially when the warmth in her eyes seemed to fade a little.
“Anna was always kind to me when I used to go into her gift shop. I understand you’re running the place now.”
“That’s right. I love it,” Rosa said. “How is your father doing?”
He couldn’t go anywhere in town without people asking him that question, but Eli didn’t mind. It was further proof of how beloved Wendell was around Cannon Beach.
“Okay. He had a little setback yesterday, but he should be home soon. The knees are better than ever, he says. Soon he’ll be ready to chase all the ladies again.”
She smiled. “Give him my best, will you? I like him very much. Your father, he is truly a good man and a good doctor.”
“I’ll tell him. Thank you.”
“You are here to see my friend Melissa, no?”
“Yes. That’s right.” He found her trace of Spanish accent completely charming.
“Her doorbell is that one.”
“Thanks.”
She paused and appeared to be debating whether to add something. In the end, she gave a quick glance at Melissa’s doorbell, then looked back at him. “I am glad you are here for Melissa tonight. She is having a struggle right now. It is hard to share a daughter.”
“I imagine it would be.”
“Thank you for being her friend. I am glad to know Dr. Sanderson’s son is a good man like his father.”
Was he? He was completely positive his father wouldn’t have kissed one of his nurses until neither of them could think straight.
Fiona tugged on the leash before he could answer, and Rosa laughed a little. “I have to run. We are off on a little adventure and she is a little excited about it.”
“Safe travels,” he said.
“Thank you.”
She hurried down the steps toward an SUV parked next to Melissa’s vehicle, loaded her dog and backpack quickly and backed out.
At least the unexpected conversation had helped put the evening in perspective. Melissa needed a morale boost, and he was glad he had the chance to offer one.
He rang the doorbell, his hands tightening around the flowers in his hand.
When Melissa opened the door, his breath seemed to catch in his chest and, for a crazy moment, he forgot why he was there.
Friends, Eli reminded himself. They were only friends.
“Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.”
He couldn’t think what to say for a long moment, then he remembered the flowers. “Here. These are for you. Peonies from my dad’s garden. He was thrilled with the banana bread. It’s one of his favorites. When I told him we were going to listen to Tiffany tonight, he insisted I cut some flowers to pay you back for the bread. They were my mom’s favorite. The peonies, I mean.”
Okay, he was babbling. He never babbled.
She looked touched by the gesture. “He showed me a picture of your mother once. I wish I’d known her. She had the kindest eyes.”
He felt the pang he always did when he remembered his mother, the ache that had become a part of him after all these years. “She did.”
“How old were you when she died?”
“Twelve.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been rough. I was fourteen when I lost my dad. The pain never quite goes away, does it?”
He shook his head, aware of yet another thread tugging him toward her. They both knew the void left behind from losing a parent at a young age.
He didn’t know what to do with this soft tenderness unfurling inside him so he focused on the flowers, instead. “Anyway, the vase is from my dad. He made it in ceramics class at the rehab center. He wanted you to keep it.”
Her features softened. “I’ll cherish it even more, then. It’s lovely. I have to tell you, I adore your father. If only he were thirty years younger!”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that phrase since I’ve been back in Cannon Beach,” he said ruefully. His father was quite popular with women of all ages in town. Somehow Wendell managed to make every woman feel like she was the most important one in his world.
“Come in a moment while I find somewhere for these and grab my purse.” She opened the door, and he followed her into the apartment.
He didn’t know what the apartment had looked like before she moved in, but it was clear Melissa and her daughter had turned the space into a home. A large dollhouse stood in one corner, with a baseball bat propped against it and several stuffed animals on the roof, as if keeping watch. The room was cheery and open, with splashes of color from prints on the wall and bright pillows on the sofa and chairs.
“What a great view,” he said, immediately drawn to the wall of windows facing the ocean.
“Killer, isn’t it?” She moved to stand beside him and admired the rugged coastline outside the sunroom. “This is my favorite spot in the house. Sometimes I can’t believe I really live here.”
He glanced down at her features, pretty and open and genuine, and had to battle down a fierce urge to kiss her again. It would be so easy. He only had to close the small space between them and lean his head down just so. He could almost taste her, fresh and sweet as ripe strawberries.
His head dipped slightly, but he checked the movement just before he would have followed through on the powerful urge.
No. They were friends. That was all they could ever be. Melissa had enough complications in her life right now with her ex-husband moving back. She didn’t need somebody with Eli’s kind of baggage.
He was aware of her small swallow, of the way her gaze shifted from his eyes to his mouth and back again so quickly he wondered if he had imagined it.
It wasn’t a good idea to be here alone with her in her warm, comfortable apartment. Not when she was everything he wanted and everything he couldn’t have.
“We should go.”
Was that disappointment he saw in her eyes? No. He was imagining that, too.
“We should. We wouldn’t want to miss Tiffany in all her glory. Just give me a minute.”
“Great.”
He turned back to the window, hoping he had the strength to keep his hands off her all night.
* * *
She wasn’t sure why, but Eli Sanderson seemed as uncomfortable as she felt as they walked into The Haystacks tavern.
Why? If she was the reason, what had she done to make him so edgy?
She had a feeling he was regretting whatever impulse had prompted him to invite her out tonight to hear Tiffany’s band. She should have backed out when she had the chance. She could have made up some excuse, but she had been so grateful for the distraction she hadn’t really thought through how awkward Eli might find it to spend time socially, after their heated kiss the day before.
It was too late now. He had invited her and she had accepted. The only thing she could do now was to make the best of it and try to relax and enjoy herself.
“Have you been here before?” she asked.
He looked around the tavern, with its brick walls and weathered plank bar. “Not recently. I may have stopped in with friends a time or two when I would come back to town during college, but I didn’t have a lot of time for barhopping.”
The Haystacks was one of those rare drinking establishments that didn’t try to be trendy or hip. Its simple unpretentiousness made it popular with tourists and locals alike.
“It’s not a bad place. They host some fun events, and on Saturday nights they feature all local mu
sicians.”
The place was already crowded and Tiffany’s band was setting up on the small stage in the corner of the tavern. Eli managed to find them a table near the stage. He pulled a chair out for her and waited until she was settled before he sat across from her.
“I probably should warn you, I’m not much of a drinker,” he admitted. “I’ve seen too many guys who spent every moment of their R & R hammered.”
“You might change your mind and order a drink once the music starts.”
He laughed roughly, a sound that seemed to ripple down her spine. “You’ve built it up so much, I can’t wait.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Tiffany actually has an excellent voice. I’m just not sure Puddle of Love is the best venue for her talent.”
“Her band is called Puddle of Love.”
“I tried to warn you. It’s not that bad. I’ll be quiet and let you judge for yourself.”
She ordered a mojito while Eli ordered one of the locally brewed ales.
She waved at a few people she knew from his father’s practice and another couple who had gone to high school with her.
Their order came quickly. She sipped at her drink, then sat back in her chair. “Now that you’ve been here a week, what do you think?” she asked, making conversation. “Are you ready to stick around in Cannon Beach and go into practice with your dad?”
He shifted. “How did you know he was lobbying hard for that?”
She shrugged. “Lucky guess. I know how proud he is of you and how thrilled he is to have you back. It makes sense that he would want to make it permanent. He said your term of service is done but you’re considering signing up for another few years.”
He sipped at his beer, his gaze focused on the band setting up.
“Do you love the military that much?” She had to ask.
“It’s not that I love it, necessarily. But I know I’m making a difference. I feel a certain...responsibility to continue doing what I’m doing.”
“You could make a difference here, too.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Why isn’t it?”
He was quiet, sipping at his beer again. “It’s complicated.”
“Doesn’t seem like it to me.”
“I’m good at what I do. I don’t say that to be cocky, but there’s something very fulfilling in knowing I’m helping people who have very few options available to them.”
“I can see that.”
“To be honest, I’m also not sure I’m ready to settle in one place. The idea of seeing the same patients day after day for the rest of my life seems so...final.”
To her, that sounded like a dream come true. She yearned for roots. She had gone to nursing school before she and Cody were married and had barely earned her license before he decided it was time to move to Hawaii, where she had to retake her license requirements. They had lived in a half-dozen places during the five years they were married and she had to become relicensed three times.
She had loved staying in one place and having the chance to get to know their patients a little better.
She supposed everybody had different needs.
Before he could respond, Stew Peters, who ran the bar, went to the microphone. “Hey, everybody. Thanks for coming out. As you all know, it’s locals’ night tonight. Performing for the first time here at The Haystacks, give it up for Puddle of Love.”
She and Eli clapped with enthusiasm as Tiffany took to the stage, looking far different from the young woman Melissa had seen the day before, leaving the office in blue scrubs and a ponytail. Oddly, she also didn’t resemble the leather-clad, big-haired rocker Melissa had seen fronting the band the last time she had seen them, at a little dive in Manzanita before Christmas.
This time she was dressed in a simple flowered dress, with her multicolored hair pulled back in a modest headband. Except for the multiple piercings and the vivid hair, she looked like a coed who had stopped into the bar between classes.
She took the microphone and the band behind her started up. As Melissa looked closer, she noticed several significant changes. The drummer was the same, but the guy on lead guitar and the girl playing bass were new to the band.
Tiffany’s look and the band personnel weren’t the only changes. She could tell after the first few bars. Puddle of Love had mellowed their sound significantly, cutting down on the screaming, angry lyrics and allowing Tiffany’s strong contralto voice to come through.
By the time her friend finished the first song, Melissa was clapping along with the rest of the tavern crowd.
“I feel like I missed something here,” he leaned in to say when there was a break in the music. “Were you deliberately trying to give me low expectations? They sound great to me.”
“This isn’t the same Puddle of Love I’ve heard before, trust me. This is Puddle of Love 2.0.”
“I like it.”
“So do I.”
They both settled in to enjoy the music, mostly covers of rock ballads that somehow sounded evocative and unique with Tiffany’s voice. When the set finished, the medical assistant walked through the crowd, greeting people she must have known, until she came to their table.
She looked impossibly young. “You guys came. Wow! I never thought you would.”
“I’m glad I got to hear you before I leave town,” Eli said. “That was terrific. You’ve got a gift.”
The nurse’s aide looked at Melissa.
“I enjoyed every minute of it,” she said honestly.
“Thanks, you guys. Seriously, thanks. I like working for your dad—it’s a good job—but I kind of feel like I need to take a break from everything and put all my energy into this, you know?”
Melissa remembered being young and passionate, ready to put all her faith into helping her husband follow his dreams.
What about her own dreams? What had she wanted?
“My parents think I’m crazy,” Tiffany said with a little laugh. “Do you really think we’re good enough to go for it anyway?”
She asked the question of Eli, who looked uncomfortable at being put on the spot. “I’m, uh, probably not the best person to ask. I’m not very musical.”
“But you know what you like, right? I saw you getting into the groove.”
He looked to Melissa for help, and she tried to tell herself they weren’t really a team even when it felt like they were.
“You guys were terrific, Tiff. Seriously. If this is what you really love, I say give it a try. You’ll have another chance to get into nursing school, and you’ve already got your nursing assistant certification to help support you while you follow your dream.”
As she spoke the words, she was fully aware of how hypocritical they were. She had given the same advice to Cody, to follow his dream and go for it, then had resented him for devoting all his time and energy to it.
It was too easy to fall into the trap of blaming all the problems in their marriage on his immaturity and lack of commitment. She held a fair share of the responsibility, had been completely unprepared when hard reality hadn’t matched up to her rosy expectations.
Tiffany didn’t need to hear that right now. Her friend glowed. “You’re the best. Both of you! Are you guys staying for the next group? Glass Army is pretty good.”
Melissa glanced over at Eli, who shrugged. “We’ve paid the cover. Might as well get our money’s worth.”
“Cool.” Tiffany looked over her shoulder to where the drummer was gesturing to her. “Looks like J.P. needs me. Thanks again for coming. I’ll see you guys Monday.”
She gave Eli a radiant smile, hugged Melissa and returned to her bandmates.
Melissa sighed. “Did somebody just warp time in here? Because I feel about twenty years older than I did when we walked in.”
He smiled. “I know what you
mean. But for the record, you don’t look a day older than Tiffany.”
She told herself not to read anything into that. She picked up her drink again, determined to ignore the heat sizzling between them and focus on the music.
Chapter Eight
His date-who-wasn’t-a-date was a little tipsy. She wasn’t precisely drunk—she had only had two and a half mojitos over the past two hours—but he could tell she had let down some of her barriers and seemed more soft and relaxed than he’d seen her since he’d come back to town.
She yawned in the middle of a conversation about which band she preferred—Tiffany’s, obviously—and he smiled a little. “We should probably get you home. It’s late.”
“I don’t want to go home,” she declared with a hint of defiance in her voice. “It’s too quiet there.”
The bar didn’t close for another hour, but without the live music it had lost most of its appeal for him. Other than The Haystacks, the options for late-night entertainment in Cannon Beach weren’t exactly what anyone could call extensive.
“I guess you’re right, though,” she said with a sigh. “We can’t stay here all night.”
She rose and started gathering her purse and the jacket she had brought along. She walked out to his dad’s SUV with her usual elegant grace, but stumbled a bit when she reached to open the door.
“Here. Let me,” he said.
She gave him a broad smile, another hint that she might not be completely sober. “You’re just as sweet as your father. Don’t tell him I said so.”
“I won’t,” he promised. He made sure she had her seat belt on securely before walking around the vehicle, climbing in and starting it up.
“Oh, look at that dog,” she exclaimed as they passed a late-night dog walker with a large yellow Lab on a leash. “I wish I had a dog. Too bad I can’t borrow Fiona, but Rosa took her with her out of town. Everyone is gone.”
She seemed genuinely sad, but that might have been the mojitos talking.
“Do you want to borrow Max for the night? I’m sure he would be happy to have a sleepover.”
A Soldier's Return ; The Daddy Makeover Page 10