Her eyes searched for answers he didn’t have. He’d asked himself similar questions countless times since Anna’s death. Was it all worth it? Why? If what you loved would be gone at some point anyway? He at least had Annalise and the memories they shared of Anna. How must Franchesca’s mother feel not recalling what her life held?
He looked at the picture once more, if only for the answers himself. Her mother’s eyes danced with the same mischief Franchesca’s did. If she’d known then how things would turn out, would she have lived differently? Made different choices?
Franchesca placed her head in her hands, her tears coming in full force now. Mike’s heart ached in his chest. All he wanted was to hold her, but he feared she’d think he was being too forward, the way he’d been the other night.
Instead, she turned to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his chest. He pulled her close, one hand holding her head, both arms enveloping her in his embrace. Her hair smelled like coconut, like Annalise’s. A soft kiss he placed on the top of her head, grateful she trusted him enough to hold her and he did so as she poured her pain out on him, the echo of her sobs the only sound in the tiny room.
Chapter Ten
It had been almost a week since Franchesca had moved her mom into May Bell House. She had anticipated it being difficult, but the reality was not something she could have prepared herself for.
When Mike had shown up at her door to help her move her mom’s things, the independent part of her wanted to tell him she had things covered. For once, she was grateful she let that side of herself fade into the background. It was as if her subconscious knew she’d need a shoulder to cry on, literally, and hand delivered him to her door.
It had been good, from-the-gut sob session, too, complete with—Lord help her—a snotty nose and her leaving his T-shirt wet with tears. A fact that still made her cringe. He’d seen her at her worst and hadn’t sprinted for the door. He’d ignored her messed up state completely, holding her close and even getting tissues for her once she’d calmed down. Although he’d made it clear he only wanted friendship, he was climbing the chart next to Noelle in closest friend status. Which warmed her heart as much as it scared her.
Because as much as they both fought it, there was something between them. She was in agreement with him that friendship was the best idea for now, but the more time they spent together, the more that theory didn’t hold weight.
Franchesca looked out the kitchen window. She’d been sipping her morning coffee, staring at the wall, alone with her thoughts. Not a typical way for her to spend time, but after she’d gotten her mom settled, she’d come home to an empty house and was still trying to make her peace with the situation. Mike had offered to stay with her and keep her company, but she feared that would only lead to something they both would regret, or at least question. With her defenses down, one more kiss from the man and she’d probably throw all caution to the wind and marry him on the spot.
She blinked and shook her head. Good Lord. Where had that thought come from? Yes, she was drawn to Mike. But marriage? Her fingers kneaded the muscles in her neck. This thing with her mom was messing with her head.
Rattling around in the house alone, she’d find herself looking through old photo albums. Images of her parents’ life together, some filled with people she didn’t know, faces she wished she could ask her mother about now. Doubt crept in, reminding her that her mother was struggling to remember daily tasks. Memories from long ago were most likely buried in her mind, unable to find their way out.
Carrying her coffee mug to the sink, she rinsed it and set it in the dishwasher. Maybe taking the photo albums to her mom would help restore some of her memory. She planned on going to visit her mom that day before she was due to watch Annalise and then teach her classes in the late afternoon and early evening.
A flicker of hope sparked in her heart. Yes. Perhaps showing her mother the memories would help trigger them in her brain. With renewed energy, she went to the living room where she’d left a stack of albums the night before and grabbed one. Tossing her purse over her shoulder, she grabbed her keys and headed for her car, more at peace than she’d been in weeks.
“Hello, Franchesca.”
One of the nurses greeted her as she entered May Bell House. As tough as it was to stomach all that was happening with her mom, she was grateful for a nice place with friendly staff. Her mom was in good hands.
“Good morning.” She headed down the hall toward her mother’s room, but the nurse stopped her.
“Your mom isn’t in her room. She’s in the main room with a visitor.”
Franchesca stopped in her tracks. A visitor? Hmmm. Maybe Bess had come by to see her. The ladies in the quilting group had been so faithful. They moved their time together to May Bell House so Sophia could still quilt with them.
As she passed by the nurse once more, she smiled and thanked her. Still distracted from her idea about the photo albums, she entered the main room and found her mother sitting at a table near the window. There were a few more tables around, but only one was occupied by two men playing a quiet game of chess.
Her mother did have a visitor, but it wasn’t Bess who sat with her.
It was Mike.
Franchesca stopped and their eyes met. The warmth of his smile all but melted her insides. And she would never get tired of those eyes that reminded her of her favorite chocolate from The Copper Mountain Chocolate Shop.
He stood as she made her way to the small table with four ornate chairs around it.
Her mother turned in her seat and smiled up at her. “Oh, Franchesca, this lovely young man came looking for you and has been gracious enough to sit with me until you arrived.”
Mike pulled out the other chair for her. She placed the photo album on the table and sat. “Thank you.”
He sat once more as well. “I hope that’s okay. I told Sophia I didn’t want to be a bother, but she said it was fine.”
Her mother’s face turned as bright as the sun.
“I see your charms work on females of any age.”
Mike laughed.
“He is quite charming, this friend of yours, CeCe.” Her mother’s hands were folded in front of her on the table. She leaned forward and winked at Franchesca as if Mike wouldn’t see.
“CeCe?” Mike quirked an eyebrow her direction.
She tried to shrug it off, but he wasn’t buying it. “I never liked nicknames. Kids tried to call me Franny when I was young, but none of them made the mistake again.”
His deep laugh echoed in the quiet room. “I bet.”
“But Mom insisted on calling me CeCe. At least at home. She respected my wishes for anyone outside the house to not know about it.”
He nodded in understanding. “Got it. No nicknames.”
“Such a feisty one she’s always been,” her mother said as she reached over and patted Mike’s arm.
“Oh, I can see that.”
“Her father was really the one who came up with it. I loved the drama and beauty of the name Franchesca, but he said whenever he wanted to call her for dinner, or any other reason, it was such a mouthful. He was also aware of her disdain for the name Franny, so he came up with CeCe.”
The lucid memory from her mother caught Franchesca’s attention and reminded her of the photo album. Pulling her attention from Mike and why he was sitting there in May Bell House with her and her mother, she opened the book and slid it across the table so her mother could see. “I brought this with me today, Mom. I wanted to ask you about some people in the photos.”
Mike looked at the book and then Franchesca, a quick nod of understanding between them.
“Oh goodness! Look at this. We were so young, weren’t we?”
Franchesca watched as her mother slid her fingers over each photo. It was clear by the smile on her face that each one brought back something to her mind. But what, Franchesca didn’t know. At times, her mom would say things about people in the past that made no s
ense to Franchesca. Saying kids instead of kid when Franchesca was an only child. The doctor said most likely in those moments, her mother was talking about her own childhood, recalling her own brother and sister. Franchesca’s uncle had died in his early 20’s in a car accident; her aunt lived in New York. She and Sophia only talked about once a year. They weren’t close.
“Is this you?” Mike pointed to a picture on one of the pages. It was a favorite photograph of Franchesca’s. Her mother was on stage, dressed in character, her arms outstretched, her face lit up by the bright lights.
“Yes. That was me.”
“Who is this man standing next to Dad?” Franchesca pointed to another picture, one taken in Montana. She could tell from the background.
Her mother’s brow furrowed as she squinted a bit and leaned down to get a better look. “Oh, I think that’s Davie. He helped us sometimes with the cattle.”
Franchesca took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair, her hope from the morning taking a nose dive and turning to a ball of lead in her stomach.
Mike noticed the change in her demeanor. “You okay?”
“We never owned cattle,” Franchesca whispered, but her mother didn’t hear anyway, still lost in pouring over the photos and heaven only knew what else that was going through her mind.
“It was a good idea,” Mike whispered back. He leaned toward her in his chair. “She remembered the picture of herself onstage. That’s got to be something.”
Franchesca nodded. She looked out the window and blinked back tears. Mike’s hand rested on her arm, the warmth a momentary comfort. What a fool she was to think one photo album would bring it all back.
“I think I’d like to take a nap now.”
Franchesca turned her attention back to her mother. “Of course, Mom.”
They all stood, Mike taking Sophia’s arm as she moved from her chair. “Let me walk you back to your room.”
“Oh yes. A charmer for sure, this one.” Her mom winked over her shoulder as they turned to leave.
“You stay here. I’ve got this.” Mike gave her a slight nod, one that said he understood she needed a moment to pull herself together. Man, how did he do that? Read her like an open book.
He wasn’t gone long, her mother’s room not far down the hall from the main room. “Can I take you to Java Café?”
She gathered her purse and the photo album. “That sounds great, thanks.”
As they walked to the parking lot, his hand on her back, she recognized once again Mike being there for her before she even knew herself that she’d need support. “So, why were you here looking for me?”
“Oh. Well, I wanted to talk to you. I need your advice on something.”
Not what she was expecting, but, okay.
“Unless this is a bad time.” They stopped at her car. He waited as she dug her keys from her purse.
“No. This is good. A distraction from all of this sounds kinda nice.” She waved one hand toward the May Bell House.
“I really am sorry, Franchesca. Your mom is a lovely woman.”
“Yes. She is. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop?”
“Perfect.”
It was mid-morning so the early crowd had dispersed and the break crowd hadn’t arrived, leaving The Java Café all but empty. They’d chosen a table in the corner by the window. Mike was pretty sure he didn’t need another cup of coffee. He’d barely slept the night before and had spent most of the morning chugging caffeine, but it was a good spot to talk without Annalise hearing and for whatever reason, he needed and wanted Franchesca’s advice.
“Are you okay?”
Franchesca sat across from him, a glass of iced tea in front of her. She took a sip from the huge straw then set it back down. Her eyes moved to the mug in front of him with the café’s logo on the side, which he turned in his hand at a slow, methodical pace.
“You gonna drink that or spin it?”
He stopped his hand and looked out the window. Why was he so nervous to talk about this? Where was the all-out, balls-to-the-wall Mike St. Claire?
“I want to race again.”
She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Okay.”
His eyes met hers. “That’s it? Okay.”
“Are you asking my permission? I’m thinking that’s not necessary.”
He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
“I didn’t think so.”
“It’s just not a simple yes or no answer, Franchesca.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.” He leaned forward, his arms resting on the table between them.
“Annalise.”
“Yes. My life isn’t just mine anymore.”
“But it’s not all hers either.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Mike. You’re an amazing father. And Annalise is a great kid. Not only do you provide for her needs, you spend time with her. You know her favorite color, favorite ice cream. You sit in those little chairs and have tea with her. But that fills her life. What fills yours?”
He sat back in his chair again, her question hitting him between the eyes. No one had ever asked him that before. Hell, the thought had never crossed his mind. But was it so bad, being a responsible guy?
“I drove the course on this last trip. It felt so damn good to be back in a car again.” In truth, he couldn’t even find words to describe the sensation. The speed. The control. The complete and total focus. Everything else disappeared. It had to. His mind had to be 100% on the car, the track, what he was doing in the moment.
Racing was full of mind games. Getting into the other racer’s heads even before the green flag. There was nothing better than going wheel-to-wheel with someone during competition.
But then he’d think of Annalise. Hear Anna’s voice in his head telling him her reservations about him racing now that they had a child. There was more at stake. The irony of her dying before him haunted him daily.
“If you love it, do it.”
Franchesca’s words battled Anna’s in his mind. “But what about...?”
“What about Annalise? She has your amazing family to be there for her when you travel. Kids are smarter than we give them credit for. If you don’t do what you love, she’ll know. It will eat at you and then that will eat at your life together.”
“Racing is dangerous.”
“That’s true. But you’re good at it, right?”
He laughed at that. “You honestly think I’m going to say no? Of course I’m good at it.”
She smiled and took a sip of her tea. “Can you try it for a season and see how it goes?”
“Yeah. I could.”
“Why don’t you start there?”
For the first time in weeks, maybe longer, he had a sense of peace that things would work out. Why that had to come from a conversation with Franchesca, he had no idea, but he appreciated it all the same. “Thank you.”
“You already had your mind made up. You just needed a nudge.”
“A nudge, huh?”
“My mom used to say that anything was worth trying. So, try it. Even if it doesn’t work out the way you think, you’ll know you gave it a shot. You won’t live life wondering.”
He looked out the window again. His life hadn’t gone as planned, but that was out of his control. This decision was all his. It was up to him alone to make it.
Chapter Eleven
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why ask my advice?”
Mike wrapped his hands around his mug. It was a good question. “You spend a lot of time with Annalise. And to be honest, I know my family loves me, but ever since Anna’s death, they treat me with kid gloves. They mean well, but I needed a straight answer. Not someone tiptoeing around feelings or even reflecting their own concerns.”
Franchesca nodded. “That’s fair.”
“I was talking to the team owner yesterday, spent all night pacing
and thinking, and looked for you today to ask your opinion.”
He hadn’t realized why he’d sought her out, but it was the truth. His gut had said to find Franchesca and talk to her, so he had.
“Are you going to talk to them before you make a final decision?”
“Yes. Well...I will probably decide and then tell them.”
She smiled.
“Wes will tell me I can work with him on the family business, which I already do to some extent, but I don’t want that full time. He’s my big brother. He’s always protected me. But having not been married or a parent, there’s only so far he can go with his advice.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry. I don’t need to talk about my family right now.”
“What? Don’t be sorry.” She placed a hand on his from across the table for a moment then leaned back again. “Just because I’m an only child or that I’ve got all this stuff going on with my mom doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about you and your family. You’ve been great to me, Mike. I honestly hope I can return the favor.”
Once more, he was overcome with a sense of calm at having someone to bounce things off of, someone to talk to besides siblings or his dad. Wes used to say that some people were made for marriage and others weren’t. Mike was and he’d always known it. Even when others gave him grief for marrying Anna right out of college, he’d ignored them.
The desire to move around to Franchesca’s side of the table and kiss her senseless overwhelmed him. This pull toward her was more than physical attraction. It was deeper. And the truth of that terrified him enough to stay in his seat.
Both of their phones dinged at the same time. A glance down showed a group text from Noelle telling them to come to house as soon as possible. No emergency. Everyone was fine. Annalise was great. Just a fun family meeting they needed to be there for.
“Hmmm. A fun family meeting. I’m not sure we’ve ever had one of those.” Mike smiled down at his phone.
Winning his Heart Page 8