Home to the Riverview Inn

by Molly O'Keefe

  She sighed heavily. She’d known this was coming, but she really didn’t want to have this conversation.

  “Having a good time,” she said, hedging the real question. “What are you doing with that man?” Jake asked.

  “Patrick Mitchell’s missing son?”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Wow, you’ve been busy.”

  “It’s all over town, Daphne.” He stepped in closer. “And now it’s all over town that you two are sleeping together.”

  “It’s not true,” she said, slightly pleased that people thought that kind of thing might be happening between a farmer and a guy like Jonah. “He’s just a friend.”

  “He doesn’t touch you like a friend. Or look at you like a friend.” Jake’s jealousy was getting the better of him. It was one of the things that she’d thought was endearing in the beginning of their relationship—proof that he cared about her. But now it was only annoying.

  Annoying and insulting.

  “It’s none of your business,” she told him. “You and I are divorced.”

  “What about Helen?”

  “Oh, stop, Jake,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Save your devoted husband and father routine for the voters.”

  His face, earnest and once upon a time beloved, fell. And something like guilt twisted in her stomach. “This isn’t a routine, Daph. I’m here. I’m here for good—”

  Her snort was unintentional. His earnestness was replaced by anger. He threw the lemonade into a garbage can and leaned toward her. “I know it helps you sleep at night to blame me for everything, and I’m ready to take a lot of blame. But the second things went bad between us you were pushing me out the door so fast my head spun.”

  “That’s not true.” She gasped, stunned by the outrageousness of that accusation coming from his lips.

  “The hell it is,” he said through clenched teeth. “You expected us to fail. You were waiting for me to disappoint you. Just like your dad disappointed you and your mom.”

  “Oh my God,” she howled, struck with laughter and a sudden sharp pain in her stomach. “You should forget about politics and try psychology—”

  “Laugh all you want, Daphne, but I’m right. I failed you, I admit it. And I failed Helen. But you never gave me a chance. And you failed me, too.”

  The jumping castle behind her shook and Helen was belched out, her blond braid unraveling and her face red and sweaty. Seconds later a laughing Jonah jumped out, tripping over Helen.

  “Wasn’t that fun!” Helen cried, holding on to Jonah as if they were both seasick.

  “I have never,” Jonah told her, palming the top of her head like it was a basketball, “ever in my life, had as much fun.”

  Daphne watched the heartbreak cross Jake’s face, the pain that seeing his daughter and wife with another man brought to him. None of the victory she thought she’d feel in the face of him realizing that she’d moved on, was there.

  She blinked away tears and, as if he knew she needed help, Jonah was there, beside her, his warmth shoring her up. She gave herself a second to believe it, even though she knew it was an act.

  Jonah kept his arm around Daphne and watched Jake like an eagle. Something had happened. Daphne’s laugh was gone and her face was so pale. And Jake had been the cause. Despite joking about it, Jonah could fight Jake if Daphne needed him to.

  “Is there a problem?” Jonah asked Jake, whose hands were in fists. Jonah pivoted slightly, leaning toward Jake so Helen couldn’t hear him. “Don’t do something in front of your daughter you’ll regret,” he murmured.

  Jake retreated, hate and sadness in his eyes. But Jonah had to give the man credit, he pulled himself together and flashed Helen a bright smile. “Having fun, Helen?”

  “Yep,” Helen said, wary. Jake felt Daphne tense.

  Jake gave the girl a big hug. “I love you, hon,” he said.

  “I love you, too. What’s going on?” Helen asked.

  “Nothing. I’ve got to go talk to some people. But after that you and I are going to eat a whole bunch of pizza.”

  Helen grinned, her world set straight again by the promise of pizza. Jake gave Daphne a long, unreadable look before turning and leaving.

  Lord save me from jealous husbands.

  Jonah opened his mouth to ask Daphne if they could leave now. The color still had not returned to her cheeks and she was staring at the grass like a woman searching for a place to fall.

  She was a tough cookie, but everyone had a breaking point.

  And, man, there was something about this woman that seriously pushed every one of his protective buttons. Buttons so small and so hidden he really didn’t understand how she’d found them.

  “Helen,” he said, thinking on his feet, “you need some face paint.”

  Helen jumped. “I do! I do! Let’s go!” She grabbed their hands, pulling them like sled dogs toward the face-painting tent.

  Daphne’s laughter, bright and real, sent relief and something else, something darker and richer, into his bloodstream. If he had known what was going to happen at this picnic, the emotional quagmire he’d be pulled into, he probably wouldn’t have come. But now that he was here basking in Daphne’s smile that was as bright as the sun, he was glad.

  He could handle this. He could be Daphne’s friend and care for her well-being, the way he did with Gary. In fact, this was no different than letting Gary off the hook for that gala next weekend.

  He and Daphne were friends. That’s all.

  But friendship went off the rails an hour later when Daphne introduced him to something called a funnel cake.

  “Oh,” he said, licking his fingers, while swallowing chocolate-and-sugar-covered fried dough. “This can’t be good for you.”

  “No.” She moaned, laughing. “But it’s so delicious.” She cupped his hand in hers, her fingers warm and soft, and took a bite from the cake he held. The cake they were sharing.

  It was unbelievably intimate and erotic, her open mouth and pink tongue so close to his skin. His fingers. He tried to avert his eyes because a button on her blouse had come undone and he could see down her shirt.

  You wouldn’t look down Gary’s shirt, he told himself.

  But he looked anyway, and when powdered sugar rained on her chest, sprinkling the top of her breasts, he nearly groaned in sudden agony.

  Her lips were dotted with sweet sugar. A spot of chocolate was smeared on her cheek.

  I want to lick her, he thought. I want to cover her in sugar and lick her head to toe.

  The expression on Daphne’s face turned hot and he wondered if she could read his mind, or if his desires were just that visible.

  The air between them was suddenly too thick to breathe.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured as the picnic, the rides, the crowds that had been watching them, all faded away.

  “Now?” Her voice cracked and he smiled, charmed so totally by her.

  “Too many people,” he said, brushing her lips with his thumb then lifting his hand to his lips to suck the transferred sugar.

  Daphne’s mouth opened and she gave every impression of a woman coming apart at the seams. He liked it. He wanted more of it. Screw friendship, he was going to have her overnight in New York and he planned to have her.

  “Mom!” Helen screamed and Daphne and Jonah both jumped like they’d been electrocuted.

  Jonah’s sexy plans went up in smoke as Daphne jerked away from him, putting a good five feet between them, and faced her daughter. “Mom.” Helen panted, a smaller dark-haired girl running up beside her. “People are yelling at Dad. You have to come and help him.”

  “Who is yelling?” Daphne asked.

  “Grandpa,” the other girl said, staring at the grass as though it might be yanked out from beneath her feet.

  “Oh, McKenzie.” Daphne sighed, a world of sympathy in that small noise. “Let’s go see what’s happening.”

  Helen and McKenzie led them to the food tent where Jake was cornered by a group of six a
ngry people. Jake was holding his hands up, trying to explain something.

  As they approached, an older man wearing suspenders yelled, “You can’t do that!”

  “Now, this has all been explained,” Jake said. “Your kids took home a series of notes about the changes to the hot lunch program.”

  “I haven’t gotten any notes!” the old man said, and the crowd rumbled its agreement.

  “This is something we should have known about at the beginning of the school year,” one woman said, while people nodded. “And breaking the news to us with letters the kids are supposed to bring home practically guarantees we won’t get the information.”

  “Don’t you have our email addresses? Couldn’t you have emailed the letters?” another woman asked.

  Something was not going Jake’s way. Jonah crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. He’d never thought picnics could be so much fun.

  There was something about the guy Jonah really didn’t like and having a near kiss interrupted because Jake was getting spanked by a group of angry parents made Jonah like him a little less.

  “This was all discussed at the town hall meeting two months ago,” Jake said.

  “As a possibility the charter school board was looking into to save money before we got absorbed by the county school board,” the old man said. “We didn’t hear two words about the vote.”

  “Our meetings are open to the public,” Jake said.

  “And I work three jobs,” a woman said. “Don’t blame your failure to communicate on us. If we had a full-time principal like we used to, this wouldn’t happen.”

  “The full-time administrator position was cut last year in order to save money. Next year, when you are a part of the county, you will have a principal again.”

  “But not hot lunches,” a woman to Jonah’s left said. “But you can’t cut the hot lunch program just like that—”

  “It wasn’t just like that,” Jake interrupted, laughing in exasperation.

  Jonah winced when the woman’s face went red. Not a good way to handle an angry crowd, he thought.

  “What’s going on, Bill?” Daphne asked the old guy.

  “Lunch program’s been cut at the school,” Bill said and Daphne’s mouth fell open.

  “You didn’t know, either?” Bill asked.

  “I always pack Helen’s lunch,” she said. “But she’s been asking for double lunches the last week and I didn’t—” She stopped, her face turning bright red.

  “It’s for my granddaughter,” Bill said. “Helen’s been giving McKenzie her lunch.”

  “Helen?” Daphne asked, crouching down to face her daughter. “Is that true?”

  “She didn’t have anything to eat,” Helen whispered.

  McKenzie gazed at them and Jonah bit back a surprised curse. There was more pain in that little girl’s brown eyes than he’d seen—ever. Something terrible had happened to her.

  “Don’t be mad, Grandpa,” she whispered, her eyes lowering to the ground again.

  “Baby,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I could never be mad at you. But if you’d told me about the lunches, we could have gotten you some food.”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said.

  What the hell is going on? Jonah thought.

  “Bill—” Daphne laid a hand on his arm.

  “Since the accident, I’m working third shift,” Bill said, his watery eyes getting wetter. Jonah had to wonder how the guy worked. And where? At his age he should be living on his pension. “She hasn’t shown me any notes. She hasn’t said a word so I leave her a sandwich. That’s it. Because I thought she was getting a good meal at school. Without that lunch—”

  Jonah understood the man. Jonah had eaten a lot of sandwiches for dinner when his mom worked nights. There had been a few years when the school lunch program had been the only hot meal he ate. The only vegetables.

  He could tell from the looks on some of these parents’ faces that the same was true for their kids. This was a rural community where people worked until the sun went down.

  He wondered what his mother would have done had his school stopped serving lunch, what further sacrifices she would have made on his behalf.

  Jonah removed his sunglasses and looked at Bill, wondering how many more sacrifices this man had in him.

  “Jake.” Daphne straightened and Jonah didn’t recognize this woman, her steely voice, her chin cut from granite, her eyes hard. Her skin was flushed, and she was nearly panting she was so angry, so ready to take this guy apart.

  Ah! Business Daphne. Sexy as all hell.

  “Daphne,” Jake said, relief in his voice. “Please help me explain that for the rest of this year and every year after, there will be no hot lunch program at this school. This is one of the concessions parents are going to have to make to be absorbed into the county board.”

  “But we’re not being absorbed until next year,” she said.

  “And we ran out of money for hot lunches this year. There’s not much we can do.” Jake blinked, clearly stunned that Daphne wasn’t taking his side. “And the charter school board made an executive decision.”

  Jonah glanced at the small school and remembered Helen saying her class had only seven students.

  “How many kids go to school here?” he asked Bill and Daphne quietly.

  “Thirty-five,” Bill answered.

  “But only twenty eat lunch,” Daphne said.

  “How much money are you saving by cutting this program?” he asked Jake and all eyes turned to him.

  “It’s not about the money,” Jake said, through clenched teeth. “It’s about the board’s decision.”

  It was just the kind of nonsensical, blow-off answer that really pissed Jonah off. These people deserved better than that line of crap.

  “What if the parents pay for it?” Jonah asked and the parents around him murmured in agreement.

  “Well, it would take a vote and—” Jake hedged, doing a political soft shoe around his answer.

  “Months,” Bill interjected. “It will take months. Just be honest about it.”

  “Fine.” Jake threw up his hands. “It will take probably two months for there to be a vote. By then school would be out for the summer.”

  “I’ll donate the money,” Jonah said. “Two months’ worth of lunches for twenty kids.”

  What could that cost? Fifty bucks a week? Probably less.

  There was a stunned silence and finally scattered cheers broke out. Daphne stared at him with her mouth agape. It’s just money, he wanted to say, slightly embarrassed that he’d made the pledge.

  “The cook has been let go,” Jake said.

  “We can hire another one.”

  “The kitchen is being dismantled—”

  “Ah, don’t dismantle it,” Jonah said, wondering if Jake had a brain at all.

  “This would all require a vote. And as I mentioned before that will take two months.” While Jake didn’t say it, asshole was definitely implied at the end of that sentence.

  Jake scanned the crowd, focused on Daphne.

  “We don’t need false promises from people we don’t know. Wealth does not compensate for a community pulling together and creating a personal experience—” Jake continued to talk and Jonah actually felt something in his brain snap.

  He was one hundred percent sure he had more personal experience in this area than good old Jake.

  “The meals can be made at the Riverview Inn,” he said before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

  “You don’t have that kind of authority.” Jake laughed.

  “He’s right,” Daphne said. “You don’t. You—”

  “I’m a Mitchell, right?” he asked, the words falling fat and awkward from his mouth. “It’s what everyone is trying to get me to admit. So, as a Mitchell, I am donating our kitchen—”

  The crowd erupted in cheers and Daphne pulled on his arm, yanking him sideways. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Who is going to cook t
hese meals?”

  “That Cameron kid.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s macaroni and cheese for twenty kids, how hard can this be?”

  “How are you going to deliver the food?” Jake asked, his voice snide now that it was clear he was losing the fight.

  “I will donate the use of my truck, Jake.” Daphne shook her head at her ex as if he were a misbehaving child she needed to scold. “And I will donate any fresh produce needed.”

  Jonah smiled at Jake, and slid his arm around Daphne’s shoulder, just to rub it in. Despite the satisfaction he had over Jake, a terrible pressure was building in his chest and what he really wanted to do was take back the offer.

  Committing to the Mitchells this way was the last thing he needed to do. It went totally against his plan to ignore them until he died.

  Back at that inn Patrick was going to celebrate this. This gesture would be seen as Jonah taking a running leap into the bosom of the Mitchell clan.

  He opened his mouth, panicked. He could retract some of it. Find another kitchen. Another way.

  “Thank you, son,” Bill said, grabbing Jonah’s hand in his giant paw. Relief and gratitude plain on his face.

  Well, crap. There would be no retracting anything.

  “You get some numbers to me and I’ll take care of the rest,” Jonah said to Jake.

  Walking arm in arm with Daphne, he shook the hands of the grateful parents as they passed. At his side, he could feel Daphne’s astonishment, her gratitude and curiosity like heat from a fire.

  “Don’t get excited,” he told her. “This doesn’t change anything. It’s a means to an end.”

  “But your father is going to flip. He’s going to assume that—”

  “It’s Patrick. He’s not my father. He’s just—” Jonah sighed, resigned to his rash actions. This was so not what he needed to do. “Patrick. And if he’d been here, he probably would have done the same thing.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “Don’t you see?”

  He stopped and turned her to face him. “I’m serious,” he said. “This doesn’t mean anything. And you aren’t supposed to care.”

  She stared at him in astonished wonder. Suddenly everything changed, her eyes got sharp and her mouth firm. She clapped her hands on his chest and pushed him backward, behind the school, away from the crowd until his back hit the brick wall of the building.