“That’s a delightful story. It has a happy ending.”
“Well, I’m not sure it’s done yet. I mean, he does know the names of most of his customers and he is settling in, but who knows if this is how it ends?” He shrugged.
“I like your story. Do you miss the racing?”
“Yeah, every day. I think it’ll take me a while not to. Though, I am getting pretty good at darts, so maybe I’ll hit the circuit.”
She laughed. “Nice choice. I’m awesome at darts. It’s my only sport.”
“Well, maybe we can play sometime.”
“Yeah, probably not if the dart board is in the bar. That would not be good for me.”
“Good point and it is.” He finished his drink. “Thanks for the soda. I better head off.”
She followed him to the door. He stopped to say good-bye and she was right there—big blue eyes, soft pink lips, and a body that . . . a body that he absolutely should not be thinking about at all.
“Thanks for fixing my bike, and the company. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Take care, Minnie. Be kind to yourself.”
He wanted to be kind to her, way too kind, so he turned down the hall and walked away.
Monday, Minnie hit another meeting, walked out to the river, and then came home to make brownies. It was so long since she’d baked anything but doing so made her feel more like her old self than she had in ages. She hoped her kids still liked her brownies as she slid them into the oven. To say she was nervous about visiting them that afternoon was an understatement.
So many memories to stir up just returning to her own childhood home, which hadn’t been a happy one, let alone seeing her own kids again.
The phone rang and it was Lucy.
“Hey, Min, how’s it going?”
“Okay, I guess. I’m baking brownies.”
“For the kids?”
“Yep.”
“Mom said you were heading over today. Good luck.”
She was touched that Lucy had rung and was being even the least bit supportive. Her voice caught. “Thanks.”
“Just don’t expect miracles.”
“Well, you forgave Mom, so anything can happen I guess.”
“I’m not sure I have entirely forgiven her actually. I accept that she’s currently a good person doing good things. I don’t necessarily think that makes up for all the stuff in the past.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear. “I guess I just assumed.”
“I’m being honest, that’s all, it’s probably not what you wanted to hear.” It was as if her sister could read her mind. “I had my hand forced. The kids couldn’t stay with me long-term with my work and hours, and Mom and Kevin were looking to make amends, so I took a leap of faith and it paid off, thank goodness. It’s why I have faith in you, Min. If Mom turned it around, you can.”
“Thanks. It means a lot to me. One day I’ll make it up to you.”
“You can do that by being patient with the kids and not hurting them.”
“Okay. I’m really going to try.”
“Okay, call me tonight, let me know how it goes.” There was a pause. “I’m glad you’re back.”
And then she was gone. She owed Lucy big-time. In fact, the list of people she owed was getting longer by the day.
She pulled the brownies from the oven. They were perfect. At least something was.
Chapter 4
Katie wouldn’t talk to her. Oliver barely remembered his life before this, and Sophie was fine. She had homework, but she was happy to show off her room and the house, so was Olly. He was so big now. He wasn’t the chubby little boy she’d left behind. She’d seen them on Sunday, of course, but here in her mother’s kitchen she got to take a really good look.
She could see flashes of Nick in each of them, especially Katie. She was so serious. Whose fault was that? Hers of course. She’d always had too much responsibility.
Her mother was sitting there calmly, acting as if her eldest granddaughter sitting there arms crossed, eyes down was perfectly normal. She just asked them the sorts of questions she obviously did every day.
“So, how was PE, Sophie?”
“Awesome. We did volleyball. I love volleyball.”
“Any good stories for the paper, Katykins?”
“Not today.” That may or may not have been true.
“Did you get your math test back, Olly?”
“Nah. We only took it Friday.”
She was trying to keep things normal but also, Minnie suspected, prove how settled the kids were.
“Do you like math?” Min asked Oliver.
“Nah, I’m pretty bad at it. I like reading.”
“Reading is fun.”
“Yeah, baseball is more fun.”
“Not everything is about baseball,” Sophie interjected.
“It is to me.” He leapt up from the table. “Can I go to the park, then?”
Her mother gave her a shrug. It was clear he would normally. So, she gave a gentle nod of her head.
“If you don’t have homework.”
In seconds, he was up and out the door, not looking back as it slammed behind him.
“I have homework,” Katie declared, standing to leave. “I’m going up to do it, okay, Gran?”
The point was clear, she had no say.
Only Sophie remained. “Are you going back to Boston now?”
“No, I thought I’d stay here in this town, nearby.”
“Okay, well, I’m running track Friday afternoon if you want to watch.”
She tried not choke up. “I’d like that.”
“Cool. Okay, I have homework, too. See you Friday.”
“Actually, I’ll be back before then.” Sophie rewarded her with a small smile.
And then it was her and her mother alone at the table, and she let out a deep sigh of relief. It hadn’t gone well, but it wasn’t a total disaster.
Her mother stood and crossed the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot. “Top up?”
She gave a nod and let her mother refill her mug while she replayed the afternoon in her mind as she took in the bright kitchen that had certainly had a remodel since her last visit home.
“This place looks good, Mom.”
“Yeah, well, the only way was up, right?” Her mother took her seat back across the other side of the table. “I’ve already apologized to Lucy, but I must also say how sorry I am that I let you down all those years, not just when you were a kid but when Nick was sick.”
“I understand.”
Her mother reached over and patted her hand. “I know, but your understanding doesn’t excuse it.”
“I think you’re doing a fine job of making amends with me by caring for my kids.”
“It does feel like a second chance. A do-over, which would be fine if I hadn’t hurt you and Lucy so much.”
Having her own mother apologize and feeling, despite her own knowledge, reticent to really accept it was a grim reminder of just how hard her own journey might be.
“You want to stay for dinner?” She begged off. It was too much to process.
“No, I’ll come back tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I would have been happy to have you stay but . . .”
She didn’t have to be a genius to know Lucy and Chase had arranged for Marissa to offer her place. The message was crystal clear. You can come back but don’t push it with the kids.
“It’s fine, Mom, I get it.”
She left and began the walk home to the apartment. She wasn’t thrilled to be dining alone again, but at least she had dinner at Chloe’s tomorrow night. She’d decided to make spaghetti and meatballs because that took a while and would fill in some time. She had everything except a nice wedge of parmesan, so she stopped in at the supermarket for some. The sky was dark and a storm was coming but she was sure she’d beat it home.
That was all she needed so she headed straight to the checkout where who shou
ld be standing in front of her in line but her sexy neighbor. His basket included protein bars, bananas, and baked beans.
“Hey, Mitch,” she said when he glanced in her direction.
“Oh hi, you have a good day, Min?”
She gave a shrug. “Not bad. You?”
“All good.” Neither of them was going to win any awards for their conversation skills. He might win an award for cuteness. He wore a navy long-sleeved T-shirt, a five o’clock shadow, and jeans that were worn in all the right places. You need to stop that, she reminded herself. Then again, maybe looking was allowed.
He was rung through the checkout by a young teen and headed out the door, before turning back. “Are you good for a lift?”
“I was planning to walk.” Just then, a loud clap of thunder sounded outside. “But a lift might be good.”
She handed over the money for the cheese and followed him out to his truck, which had lots of racks that clearly held at various times all kinds of sporting equipment. That body didn’t just sculpt itself she realized. She also realized this wasn’t the same car as yesterday.
“You own a car yard as well as a bar?” she asked as he held the door open for her.
“Nah, just the compact and this. I ran some gear down to Concord today for maintenance.”
“Ah.” She slid into the seat, and their eyes met as the door shut. There was something there. Something she should ignore.
Mitch knew it was just a coincidence he’d run into Min. She was one of a handful of people he’d run into today. Moose had jogged past him at the park and invited him to dinner tomorrow night. He’d stopped to get gas and Dave the local policeman was at the other pump, and when he’d gone into the diner, half the town had been there. And he may have heard Min’s name mentioned in whispers more than once. Patty had been holding court with her gaggle of minions. Running into the beautiful woman seated beside him improving the truck exponentially was not destiny, even if it felt like it.
All she’d bought was a small block of cheese. Clearly, she was planning to do something with it.
“What’s the cheese for?”
“Meatballs and spaghetti.” His stomach, the betraying bastard, groaned. “I gather you like meatballs.”
“I do. They’re a classic.”
“I’m going to have extra. I’ll drop some over.”
“You don’t need to do that.” His stomach rolled again.
“To say thanks for the bike and the lift home.” Large raindrops were pelting the windshield now. “I’m pretty happy not to be walking in this.”
He looked over at her. She was looking at him with those baby blues, so he couldn’t resist. “Okay, but how about you eat it with me? It’s kind of sad for us each to be eating alone.”
“Okay. I’ll just come down the hall when I’m done.” The town wasn’t big, so he pulled the truck up outside the building minutes later. He stopped under the portico so she could exit without getting wet.
He watched her go, her perfect pear-shaped butt heading in the door and up the stairs. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at that butt or wanting that woman but knowing didn’t stop it from being so.
Just over an hour later, he was showered and he’d set the small table he had by the window. The truth was he barely ate at it. His routine was to exercise in the morning, come back, and eat his breakfast at the counter reading the New York Times, which he had delivered daily, and the local paper that Mike ran, because you needed to know what was happening around here. Then, he’d head in and open the bar where he usually grabbed a burger or a sandwich, and if he wasn’t working, which he didn’t on Sunday nights and Mondays, he’d hit the diner or nuke a dinner and watch TV. It was definitely a bachelor’s life since he’d retired and maybe that was part of the loneliness he’d felt. Setting the table for two people, with actual plates and napkins, reminded him of all the good bits of being in a relationship, the bits he missed.
So, when he opened the door to a pretty blonde in a red polo shirt, her hair in a flippy ponytail, a small apron covered in cherries around her waist, and a steaming bowl of spaghetti and meatballs in her hand, he tried to tell himself that it was a relationship he wanted not a relationship with this woman who looked like a dream and was bringing the amazing smell of Italy into the room.
“Can I come in?” Oh yeah, she could, once he regained the power of speech that lust had clearly kicked out of his body. He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter and she did, heading straight for the table with her steaming bowl of food. Only then did he notice she had a little backpack on. And he watched, mesmerized, as she removed it and pulled out grated parmesan and a stick of garlic bread.
“I might need a plate for this.”
“Ah, sure.” He hustled into the kitchen and pulled out a plate for the bread. “It smells amazing, I mean seriously amazing.”
She rewarded him with a grin. “Thanks, I haven’t cooked in a while. It was fun, and it was nice to have someone to cook for. I think you’re actually doing me the service.”
He laughed. “Somehow my stomach and I doubt that.”
She peeled off the apron and popped it in the backpack. Damn, she looked hot in that apron. What was wrong with him? This was not the woman for him. He gave his head a shake and pulled out a chair for her.
“Wow, thank you.”
“Hey, my mama raised me right.”
It was a long time since she’d been in the company of a gentleman. Not too many gentlemen at the strip club or hanging out with her and Earl in the dive bars and casinos they’d visited as they crossed the country, and Earl himself probably couldn’t even spell the word. She gave a little shudder.
“Are you cold?”
Well-mannered and observant. “No, I’m fine. This table looks so nice.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve set the table.”
“You don’t have people over much?”
“To be honest, I get a bit peopled out at work.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Was she imposing? She had offered to just drop the food, he had asked her to come.
“No.” He reached out and squeezed her hand, and the warmth of his touch snaked through her body. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve invited some of the guys over for football, but you know, the lads aren’t so big on table setting.”
She laughed. “I guess not.”
She served the spaghetti and meatballs onto his plate and her own. “So, you like to cook, huh?”
“Well, yeah, I did before I kind of went off the rails. I was the typical suburban mom; you have three kids you learn to cook.”
“I guess so.”
“Dig in,” she said, not wanting the food and all her effort to get cold on the plate while Mitch was being polite. His stomach had been rumbling an hour ago.
“No need to ask me twice.” He twirled the pasta around his fork before slicing off a chunk of meatball with sauce and forking it all into his mouth. Then, he gave a moan of appreciation that made her smile. “So good.”
She laughed, or maybe it was more of a girlish giggle before getting some of her own meal into her mouth. It was nice to do something so normal as making a meal and sharing it with someone. That had been a long time coming. In fact, even as she’d slowly fallen into addiction, she’d stopped doing that sort of thing for her kids.
“Have you seen your kids since you got back?” Could he read her mind?
“This afternoon I visited.” She focused on her plate rather than looking at him and blinked back the tears she knew were coming. Talking about it was hard.
“And that went how?”
“About as well as you would expect, one barely remembers me, one is indifferent, and one won’t talk to me, and I can’t say any of that is on them.” Then, she did meet his eyes and they were full of kindness and understanding.
“It’s like training for a road race, then, I guess, it’s slow and lots of hard work and some days you can go farther or you make progress and some days it fee
ls like you go backward but, if you want to be in it, you show up and do the work.”
He was, of course, right. “Well, I am going back tomorrow and every day after.”
“There you go.” He gave her a big smile. “Slow and steady.”
“Thanks.” She took another bite of her food. “So, where is your family?”
“Oregon. Well, my folks are on a boat sailing around the world, but my sisters are in Oregon.”
“Your parents are on a yacht?”
He nodded. “Long story. They had me and planned to go when I was five but my mom got pregnant so they planned to go when the baby came, except they had triplets and four kids on a boat didn’t seem like a plan. So, they waited until everyone was done with college and then went.”
“Wow. Triplets. That must have been hectic.”
“Now you know why I spent so much time with my grandfather.” He grinned before helping himself to more food.
He liked this woman. She seemed normal and real, which was kind of why it was hard to imagine her running off on her kids the way she had. He was having trouble reconciling the brownie-and-meatball-making mama across the table with that woman. He had so many questions and he didn’t even begin to know how to ask them.
And really, why did he need to ask, they were just neighbors splitting a meal. So, he tried hard not to as they finished their meal and he talked about the challenges of growing up with three little, very demanding sisters.
“Do you get along now, though?” she asked as they carried the plates into his kitchen.
“Well, they’re a pretty tight posse. I do get along with them, but it still feels like a club that they let me be an honorary member of from time to time. It’s not just the triplet issue, they’re girls and they’re five years younger and I traveled a lot from a young age competing as well.”
“I guess. Lucy, my sister, and I were always really close . . .”
“But you left anyway.”
“Yeah, well, that had nothing to do with her.” She was leaning on the island counter now, her chin resting on a hand. “My husband died and I was sad and lonely. We were together from the first week of college, and he was sick for a long while. Lucy moved in to help us. After Nick died, I lost my way. I come from a long line of alcoholics, and so that was my crutch. None of that was Lucy’s fault. I feel extra bad about that because she went through it as a kid with my mom, and then she just had to witness it all over again.”
Any Way You Spin It: An Upper Crust Novel (The Upper Crust Series Book 7) Page 4