by Olivia Miles
“Maybe we can have it at the ice cream place,” Violet suggested, brightening. “The one with the nice lady!”
Ben frowned. He’d seen the way Violet responded to Mary, and while he appreciated it, was grateful for it, he didn’t need to be making a habit of it. It was just . . . too complicated.
“Oh, I think she’s probably very busy,” Ben countered.
“No, she’s not!” Violet cried. “There wasn’t even anyone else in the shop!”
True, very true. Ben looked at his daughter. “We could have the party at that pizza place you like down in Bucktown. The one where you walk down the stairs—”
“But why can’t we have it at the ice cream parlor?” Violet asked, her big blue eyes blinking in question.
Ben sighed. “I told you honey, it’s short notice, and she’s probably busy.”
“Can you ask?” Violet asked, and Ben swallowed hard. It was a simple question. And it was her birthday. And as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no.
***
Four hours later, Ben tucked his head into his father’s office. “I’m running out on an errand. Can I grab you anything for lunch while I’m out?”
His father shook his head. “Your mother has me on a diet.” He scowled at the desk. “Salad. Soup. I’d kill for a burger.”
Ben laughed. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
His father considered it for a moment. “No. She’d find out somehow. No doubt she’d smell it on my clothes.”
Ben grinned. “And yet everyone worries that I miss married life . . . ”
His father’s expression turned into one that was all too familiar, the lines on his face etching in concern. “How are things going? With Violet?”
Ben leaned into the doorjamb. “She misses her mother. With her birthday this weekend, the timing couldn’t be worse.”
“Come up to the house,” his father urged. “Let us do something special for her.”
“She’d like that,” Ben said. And he would, too. So long as his mother didn’t try to set him up again.
Shrugging into his coat, he hurried down to the lobby of the office building and hailed a cab. According to Sunshine Creamery’s website, it should be open by now, and he’d much prefer to have the conversation with Mary at her place of business rather than at the apartment building. Somehow knocking on her door felt too personal, it established a familiarity he wasn’t comfortable with, upending the nice, big walls he’d made sure to put up when he first moved into the building.
The ice cream parlor looked just as empty today as it had over the weekend, Ben noticed when they pulled up to the corner twenty minutes later. He peered through the cab window, searching for the Open sign, and, only somewhat satisfied with his findings, paid the driver and climbed out.
The bell over the door jangled as he pushed it open, and Mary came all but running into the storefront at the sound, a huge smile on her face that slipped slightly when she saw him.
“Back again?” she remarked, recovering.
Ben shoved his hands into his pockets and rolled back on his heels. Her hair was astray, wisps shooting out from her forehead, and her cheeks were flushed, bringing out the brightness of her eyes. He allowed his gaze to drift lower, to the soft pull of her sweater over the swell of her breasts, and then yanked them back up, clearing his throat. There was no point in that. No point at all.
“I’m here on official business,” he said.
“Oh?” She blinked in surprise, and if he didn’t know better, he might say she’d gone a little pale.
“My daughter was quite impressed with your shop. She was hoping to have her birthday party here,” he said, sliding her a smile.
“Of course!” Mary cried, in what Ben could only describe as relief. Her huge smile returned as she nodded enthusiastically. “I love doing children’s parties. When is it?”
“This Saturday.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “If it’s too short of notice I completely understand if you’re too busy.” He glanced around the room, finding this possibility unlikely.
Mary stepped forward, and Ben fought the urge to step back. To put distance between himself and this pretty woman, this new force in his life, and, unsettlingly, his daughter’s.
“It’s not a problem at all,” she said, reaching over the counter to grab a pad of paper and a pen. “What time did you have in mind?”
“I think the party starts at two,” he said, bringing up a mental picture of the bowling invitation that had already been sent out.
“Two o’clock it is then!” Mary scribbled notes on her pad. “How many kids should I plan for?”
“I’ll have to check on that. Ten or twelve, I think,” Ben said.
“Perfect. They can build their own sundaes, and that old jukebox over there works if they like music. I loved dancing to that thing when I was a kid,” she said wistfully.
Ben tipped his head, imagining Mary as a little girl Violet’s age. She still had that youthful spark, that hope and energy that he’d somehow lost along the way. For a moment, he envied her for it.
“When you said this was a family business, I hadn’t realized it went back that far.”
Mary’s eyes locked with his. “My grandparents opened it, long before my sister or I were born. I loved this place growing up. Still do.” She gave a sad smile.
“Is that your grandfather?” Ben asked, motioning to the photo on the wall he’d seen during his last visit.
Mary nodded. “He passed away last year, so it’s up to me to keep the place running now.”
“That’s a big undertaking,” Ben remarked, sweeping his gaze over the room once more. He doubted traffic was always this slow. It was midweek and freezing cold outside, after all.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Mary gave a low chuckle, a laugh that rumbled deep and steady, and Ben couldn’t fight off his grin. He liked the sound of it. Wouldn’t mind hearing it again. “I guess this building is old. My grandparents seemed to put most of their energy into making ice cream and keeping customers happy. They didn’t pay much attention to the building itself, or things like electrical issues, plumbing issues.” Her laugh turned a little shaky.
“Well, it’s an old building, that’s not uncommon,” Ben said.
“No, I suppose not. But it seems that if I’m ever going to permanently solve some of these, well, issues, I’m having, then I need to do some maintenance before things progress.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. He knew all about codes and inspection issues. Out of curiosity, he asked, “What is the issue exactly?”
“Oh, I had a frozen pipe that burst, and they switched out the pipe, for a small fortune of course,” she added, pinching her lips. “But then they noticed the water heater probably won’t last much longer, and . . . well, other things like that.” She seemed to twitch.
Ben sucked in a breath. He’d heard enough. Mary was right; an old building was a big undertaking. Especially if you weren’t prepared for it. He opened his mouth, a part of him wanting to offer his help, to look around, give her an honest opinion in case some less than reliable contractors had tried to take advantage, and then clamped his mouth shut. Mary was his neighbor. And he didn’t need to be getting close. What he needed was to keep his distance, and remember that no good came from getting involved where he shouldn’t.
“Anyway.” Mary tapped her pen against her notepad. “Violet mentioned her favorite color was purple. Shall I go with that for the decorations? I can hang some balloons and streamers, and put out some matching tablecloths.”
“That would be perfect,” Ben said. He realized that Dana might have already coordinated everything with the bowling place, but like so many things in their lives since the divorce, he’d been left off the communication. “I’ve sort of been thrown into this at the last minute.”
“Don’t worry,” Mary said, dismissing his concern. “We’ll figure it out. Violet will have a wonderful party. I promise.”
<
br /> Ben frowned. He hadn’t been a “we” in a long time, and the ease with which Mary said it seemed overly familiar, and almost . . . comforting. It brought him back to a more secure time and place, when he’d felt like part of a family, part of a team.
He eyed Mary cautiously, who seemed completely unaware of the impact of her last statement. Her smile was bright, her eyes so earnest, and her entire demeanor so self-assured, that he felt the tension begin to roll off his shoulders.
He had no doubt that Violet would have a wonderful party. And it was all thanks to Mary.
Chapter Six
Mary finished hanging the last of the balloons and took a step back to admire her effort. Even with a critical eye, she had to say that she was impressed. Bunches of purple and pink balloons anchored each end of the counter, and in the center of the room, Mary had pushed the tables together to form a long, makeshift table, covered in a pretty lavender cloth. Bowls of colorful sprinkles, an assortment of chocolate chips, and even a selection of jelly beans were scattered along the party table, ready for the girls to make their ice cream sundaes. It was everything a little girl could want for a party. At least, she hoped so.
There was something about Violet, something that went a touch beyond shy, that made her worry. Mary fluffed up a paper pom-pom and did another quick sweep of the room. No use getting overly concerned. The little girl had a loving father. And there was obviously a mother in the picture, too. Somewhere.
The aprons were on the counter, and Mary began counting them out again, just to be sure she had enough, when the door jangled. Her heart did a little flip-flop, and she knew before she’d even looked up that it was Ben.
“Look at this place!” he exclaimed, and the grin on his face brought a smile to her own.
Mary looked down at Violet, who was wearing a purple dress and matching headband, her eyes huge as they took in the room. “Do you like it?” she dared to ask, and realized she was holding her breath as she waited for the response.
“This is way better than the bowling alley!” Violet cried, and Mary and Ben laughed.
“Let me take your coats,” Mary said, helping Violet out of her down parka. She reached for Ben’s coat, her fingers brushing with his instead of the soft wool. Sparks of heat shot through her belly, and she drew a sharp breath, breaking his stare. His coat felt heavy draped over her arm, soft but a little scratchy. A little like him, she mused. “I’ll just go hang these up in the back room,” she muttered, feeling the warmth spread to her cheeks.
Ridiculous! She gave herself a stern talking to all the way to the back room, where she hung each coat on the rack next to her own. Her fingers lingered on Ben’s coat, the hint of musk coming off it. She pursed her lips, counted to three and told herself that enough was enough. The man was her neighbor. Her totally hot neighbor, but still her neighbor. And he was a father. And this was his child’s birthday party. And the child’s mother was probably about to come through the front door at any moment. And she was probably gorgeous. Surely she wouldn’t miss her child’s birthday!
Mary smoothed her ponytail and tapped her lips, making sure the gloss was still there. Just looking presentable, she told herself. There was nothing more to it than that.
After all, the last thing she needed was another heartbreaker. Another man to lift her up and let her down. Another man to pull her attention from the business. From her family’s legacy.
Three more children had already arrived by the time Mary made it back to the storefront. She collected their coats while Ben chatted with their parents and showed the girls to the table. She hurried to the back room to hang up the sweet little jackets in bright colors, only to return to the front to find more kids waiting, their faces shining, their parents murmuring. One woman even asked for her card, and it took everything in Mary not to reach out and hug her, but instead to ever so casually pull one from the stack she kept near the cash register.
Soon all the guests had arrived and the parents had cleared out. Mary eyed Ben, waiting for his lead, but he just stared at her blankly. “Is your, um . . . Should we wait for Violet’s mother?” she asked. It still wasn’t clear what the situation was, not that it should matter to her. It wasn’t like she was interested in him. Surely she knew better than that!
His expression darkened. His gaze darted sharply to the table where the little girls sat giggling and talking loudly, and then back to hers. “She’s not coming,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh.” Mary nodded quickly. “Okay, then. Let’s get the party started!” she smiled brightly and walked over to the table to tell the girls about the party games she’d planned for the day.
Once the girls were all patiently waiting in line for their chance to pin their cherry on the cardboard ice cream sundae she’d taped against the far wall, Mary went to the table to fill each plastic cup with grape juice.
A voice, low and husky in her ear, made her jump, and she sloshed some of the purple liquid over the tablecloth. Her hand darted for the nearest napkin just as Ben’s did, and she felt her cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and something far more intense. Something that felt an awful lot like attraction.
“You scared me,” she laughed under her breath, feeling flustered. What was it about this man that made her so jumpy? She looked away, eager to get ahold of herself, and gathered the sopping napkins into her hand.
“Sorry about that,” he said with a smile when she returned a few seconds later with a fresh stack of napkins. “I just wanted to say thanks. For the games. For all of this. I didn’t really think this far ahead.”
Mary felt her heart swell, but a flicker of worry creased her brow as she went around the table with the napkins, sure to give one to each girl. There was something about the way he talked, about how nervous he seemed around Violet, a little out of practice and eager to please, that made her curious about the situation.
She set the last napkin down at the head of the table. Not her business. Ben was hardly a friend, and he’d made it clear he wasn’t looking to even be neighbors.
She looked up, catching his eyes on hers, and felt her pulse quicken. A shame really. It would have been nice to have a friend across the hall. A friend, and nothing more, she reminded herself, tearing her gaze from those full lips, that straight, strong nose.
“My turn!” Violet cried, interrupting Mary’s thoughts.
Happy to have an excuse to leave Ben’s unwavering stare for a moment, she hurried over to the group of excited children and helped Violet with the eye mask. Taking her by the shoulders, she spun her around three times and gave her a little push in the right direction, hoping the birthday girl would have luck and take home the prize. Even though she’d been sure to make enough goody bags for each child, she knew that small victories went a long way, and with the way Ben was acting, she couldn’t help but sense that something was off. It was the little girl’s birthday. Shouldn’t her mother be here?
Violet marched to the paper that was taped to the wall, feeling this way and that as Ben edged toward the place where Mary stood watching. “A little to the left,” she whispered so softly that she knew Violet couldn’t hear. “A little more,” she pleaded, wincing as the girl placed the cherry a solid foot from where it belonged.
Violet pulled off her mask and stared at her effort, her small face crumbling when she saw that she hadn’t won.
“Oh no,” Ben muttered, rolling back on his heels.
Mary flashed him a look of panic and quickly stepped forward. No one cried over a bowl of ice cream. Not in Sunshine Creamery, at least. At home, well, sometimes that was what ice cream was for, she supposed.
“Violet, I was wondering if you might want to come with me to the jukebox to pick a song for the next game,” she said.
Violet blinked up at her with interest, and the tears seemed to dry up as quickly as her mouth lifted into a smile. “Okay!” she said, jumping up and down.
Mary reached down to take her hand and glanced back at B
en over her shoulder. The smile he gave her was one of relief, and, if she didn’t dare say so, something more.
***
Ben watched as Mary scooped ice cream into twelve small glass bowls. He couldn’t help himself. Every time she bent over, he let his gaze drop to her curves. The tight, small waist, the curve of her hips, the endlessly long legs covered in thick black tights he could almost imagine peeling off, inch by inch . . .
He stiffened. It had been too long. Two years, actually. He hadn’t been with a woman since the divorce. His sister thought he was crazy, that it was part of his problem, urged him to go out, get it out of his system. Lots of men would, he knew. But he was never that way. Dana had been his first love. His college sweetheart. But it hadn’t been enough. Not to last a lifetime.
The party was nearly over. Already some parents had arrived to collect their children—faces Ben barely recognized from various events at Violet’s school. He’d always thought he’d be one of those dads who volunteered, got involved in helping with sets for the school play, or helped out with the assembly of the new playground equipments on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Instead, he kept to himself. Sat next to his ex at holiday music assemblies, focused on his daughter, learned to look away from the other, happier families, trying not to think of the life he’d wanted for his daughter and hadn’t been able to give her.
Mary walked over to him, her smile a little tired. “I think that was a success,” she said.
“Let me stay and help you clean up,” he said. Sprinkles and chocolate chips were all over the floor, and whipped cream was spilled over the purple tablecloth.
“This won’t take me more than ten minutes,” she said, brushing away his concern. “Besides, it’s all part of the service.”