‘Dad …’ Bryce was obviously frustrated with his inability to keep up. ‘You’ve got to say you’re sorry to Paige, too.’
He hadn’t expected the boy to start rhyming off a to-do list for him as well. After all, he wasn’t the one who’d just been grounded for the rest of his adolescent and teenage years. ‘I will, but—’
‘No buts.’ Bryce seemed older to Cohen, somehow. More grown up. ‘I think I know why you didn’t tell me that Paige told you I stole that stuff.’ He paused, but Cohen didn’t know what to say to that. He just stood waiting with bated breath as his son continued. ‘You were trying to protect me, right, Dad? That’s what you’ve always done. And you’re good at it.’
‘I’ll always protect you,’ he whispered, not trusting his voice to get any louder. ‘But I was protecting myself, too, I think.’
‘I know,’ Bryce replied without a hint of hesitation.
His son’s simple answer hit Cohen with the weight of a transport truck. When had the roles reversed? When had his son begun to realize his own father’s fear of the unknown? Or his fear of living life itself?
‘I don’t remember much about Mom, but I know you do,’ Bryce said softly. ‘And I know you’ve been happy with just the two of us for, like, ever.’ He steadied his gaze on his father, shrugging. ‘But you were happy with Paige, Dad. Like, really happy. A different kind of happy. Probably the same kind of happy you were with Mom, huh?’ He paused, his shoulders shrugging slightly again, as though he couldn’t explain his reasons for his beliefs, but he knew they were as close to the truth as he was going to get. ‘I think Mom would want you to be that kind of happy with Paige.’
Every wall Cohen had built around his heart came crumbling down as his son spoke of the things he believed, the things he knew, even if he didn’t fully understand them. But that was love, wasn’t it? Believing in something so strongly and so completely that it didn’t matter if it made sense or not. Sometimes love didn’t make sense, and that was okay. Because it didn’t make sense to be getting advice on love from a ten-year-old, either, but Cohen was doing it, and he was proud of his son for standing up for something he believed in so strongly.
‘Thank you.’ Cohen reached out and pulled his son in for another embrace, this time holding him against him while having to wipe away tears of his own. ‘I’m so lucky to have you, Bryce.’
‘Agreed,’ the boy quipped, making Cohen choke out a laugh through his tears. ‘You ain’t the only lucky one, though.’
Cohen pulled back, savoring every second of this moment, memorizing every inch of his son’s face. He knew something was changing in their dynamic. Though Bryce would always be Cohen’s baby, it was the first time Cohen knew in his heart that his son was becoming a man. A good man. One he would be proud of. Was proud of.
‘I’m still calling Hunter’s parents,’ he added, trying to gain some ground as the parent in the situation again.
‘Fine, Dad,’ Bryce groaned. ‘Just do it after you go see Paige.’
It was too late to let Bryce walk to school on his own, so Cohen drove him there to make sure he arrived before the first bell rang. Cohen was late getting to the veterinary clinic because of it, which had never happened in all the years he had owned the business, and his staff members noticed. So did the clients, as the first two appointments of the day had already shown up and were waiting in the exam rooms.
‘Late?’ Rhonda was the first to comment. Cohen wouldn’t have expected anything less. ‘I didn’t think that was possible, boss.’
‘First time for everything, I suppose.’ Cohen changed into the running shoes he wore inside the clinic and checked the patient files, pulling each one up on the computer screen. ‘I had to drive Bryce to school. Wait, Rufus is back?’ He squinted at the computer screen. ‘We just removed those sutures yesterday.’
‘Yeah, and the wound has dehisced a little,’ Rhonda explained. ‘It’s not bothering Rufus at all, and it looks clean, but Shelly thought we should take a look, just in case. I think Steri-Strips will do the trick, but he’ll be back wearing the good ol’ cone of shame.’
The Irish wolfhound in question had had a benign lump removed from his hind leg two weeks ago because it kept getting bumped against things and causing him discomfort. He wasn’t a rambunctious dog, and he’d been a perfectly well-mannered patient thus far, so Cohen felt bad that the dog was back in the clinic once again. Especially if he had to resort to making the dog wear a plastic cone once more to keep him away from the incision.
‘I’ll check on him first,’ Cohen advised. ‘It shouldn’t take long. Then, Viola is in the other room for vaccinations?’
Rhonda nodded. ‘The Richardsons are heading to Canada next week and will need signed proof of vaccines as well in order to cross the border.’
‘You got it.’ Cohen made a note on the Post-it notepad he always carried in his scrub shirt pocket. ‘Anything else?’
‘Then, you can tell me what’s happening between you and the baker girl so I don’t have to keep hearing everything from two miles down the gossip chain.’ Rhonda stood, hands on her hips, glaring at Cohen like he’d done something wrong by keeping his private life … well, private.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Rhonda knew him well. Well enough to know he wasn’t one to partake in the gossip, or one to converse about his own life save for the goings-on of Bryce and his amusing antics. Besides, on the subject of Paige, Rhonda knew all there was to know. She had been standing there two days ago when he had ended things with Paige so unfairly. Because of that, he found it a little unfair that she was asking for more. It was like pouring salt in a wound. ‘There’s nothing to tell, Rhonda.’
‘You’re telling me that—’
‘Dr Cohen!’
Both Rhonda and Cohen whirled around at the sound of his name being shouted from the waiting room. Sonya Ritter came ambling toward the opened door of the pharmacy. He really had to do something about the view into the pharmacy from the front door.
‘Sonya, is everything all right?’ She didn’t look perturbed to him, but with Sonya it was never safe to assume.
‘How’s the good doctor today?’ Sonya brightened as soon as he gave her his undivided attention. She held a sealed envelope in her hands, but made no movement to hand it over just yet.
‘Busy, but doing well,’ he replied. His smile probably looked as false as it felt, but he couldn’t guess what might come out of the woman’s mouth next and he had clients seated in the waiting room. An audience, just what Sonya loved. ‘What brings you by?’
She finally held the envelope out in front of her. ‘I swung by The Cakery on the way into the coffeehouse, but Paige hasn’t opened up yet. Which is odd.’ She paused, as though waiting for him to give her an explanation. When he only raised his eyebrows, she continued. ‘Anyway, I wanted to drop this off to her, but perhaps you can give it to her?’ She held out the envelope.
Cohen could see the word Fundraiser scrawled across it in Sonya’s elegant handwriting. His eyes narrowed, curiosity piqued, but he just shook his head. ‘You might be better to wait until Paige opens the shop up. It’s for the fundraiser?’ He couldn’t help himself. Cohen thought that had all been dealt with already.
‘It’s the fifty dollars I borrowed from the fundraiser money to cover the float for the coffee we were selling at the coffeehouse. All the proceeds went to Helen’s rebuilding fund. I plum forgot to return it before the fundraiser was over.’
Sonya looked just as curious now, having sensed a morsel of contention in the words he obviously hadn’t chosen carefully enough. Cohen, however, was staring at the plain envelope like it might burst into flames at any moment.
The missing fifty dollars from the fundraiser. The missing money he had immediately and unfairly accused Paige of blaming Bryce of taking.
Sonya had been the unwitting culprit all along.
First, he found out Paige had been correct in her assumptions about Bryce and Hunter, and now he found out he�
��d lashed out at her over the missing fundraiser cash unfairly. Well, he already knew he had been unfair about that, but still. Today was turning out to be a hard pill to swallow.
‘Thanks, Sonya.’ He took the envelope, shoulders sagging under the weight of his grim mood. ‘I have to head over there later on, so I’ll give it to Paige then.’
That made the older woman’s eyes twinkle. ‘Glad to hear it, Dr Cohen.’
How did she manage to make such a mundane reply sound so scandalous? He didn’t dare to ask her. ‘I should get back to work,’ he said, hoping to put an end to the social interactions that were becoming harder and harder to keep on solid ground. Talking to Sonya was like talking to a rattlesnake. You never knew when she was going to strike with the venomous statement that rendered one speechless and left you rethinking everything you’d said and done.
‘You got a second for a harmless old biddy?’ She paired the innocent request with a soft smile, but Cohen knew better. Under it was the sharpness in her gaze and the firmness in her tone. She wasn’t asking. The rattlesnake was about to strike.
‘Sonya, I really don’t—’
She pinned him with a glare that had him leading her toward the closest examination room, shutting the door behind them. Whatever she had to say, it didn’t need to fall on straining ears.
‘I have work to do,’ Cohen reminded her as the door clicked closed.
‘Sounds like it.’ She didn’t blink. Didn’t even bother to try to hide the gravity she felt the situation warranted.
Sonya wasn’t talking about his clinic appointments.
Raking his hands through his hair, Cohen all but growled under his breath. ‘I can’t handle your cryptic affirmations today, Sonya. You’re going to have to either spit it out or save the conversation for another day.’ He hoped like hell she chose the latter, but again, it was Sonya, and he knew better. Either way, he was out of patience and his day had barely begun.
The older woman’s eyebrows raised. ‘Must be your charm that Paige loves about you so much.’
Cohen knew sarcasm when he heard it. It didn’t make hearing Paige and love in the same sentence any easier, though. ‘Sonya …’
‘She does love you, you know.’ Gone was the sarcasm, replaced by a soft and unwavering sincerity he rarely heard in the woman’s voice. Sonya was damn good at being the loud and feisty spitfire who stuck to her guns like what she was preaching was the gospel truth. But that boisterous quality was absent now. ‘And you love her, too.’
This side of her was frightening in a whole different way. He swore she was peeking into his soul. Reading his thoughts. ‘I made a mistake,’ he confessed. Damn it, she really was doing some of her lovey-dovey voodoo crap on him, coercing confessions from him without lifting a finger. ‘Multiple ones. Too damn many.’
‘Cohen,’ she began, and the way she addressed him made a lump lodge at the base of his throat. Sonya never referred to him as anything but Dr Cohen. It was the community’s nickname for him, as unoriginal as it was. ‘You forget, I stood beside you eight years ago and watched you lose the woman you loved. The woman who loved you back just as deeply.’
The mention of Stacey only tightened his throat further. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’
A sad smile flickered at the corners of Sonya’s lips. ‘Stacey Beckett was a good woman. A beautiful person, inside and out. And she loved you.’
‘I know.’ He could barely choke out the words through his emotions.
‘She loved you,’ she repeated. ‘Flaws and all.’ Her smile widened, though her tone remained gentle, as though dealing with a skittish animal. ‘If Paige Henley is half the woman I think she is – half the woman you know she is – she does, too.’
Cohen’s chest ached with his need to believe the woman was right. He reached out to press his hand against the wall for support, his legs weak with the emotional upheaval. ‘Sonya, you don’t understand,’ he all but whispered.
‘Make me understand, then.’ Her gaze pleaded with him, holding him in place without so much as a single touch. ‘Is this because you’re comparing her to Stacey?’
‘I’m not comparing her to Stacey.’ He spoke in a rush. There wasn’t much Cohen could be certain of at the moment, but he knew damn well he’d never once compared the two women to each other. Not once. No one could compare to Stacey, not in his mind. And he certainly could never, and would never, try to replace her with someone else.
‘Didn’t think so.’
‘What?’ Good God, was she just playing games? He didn’t have time for this. ‘What are you getting at, Sonya? Please, get to the point.’
The woman crossed her arms, steeling herself against his foul mood. ‘I agree with you,’ she continued. ‘I don’t think you’re comparing her to Stacey, Cohen. But I do think you’re comparing her to your memory of her.’ She stopped, holding up her hands. ‘Maybe comparing is the wrong word. More like, you’re putting Stacey on a pedestal no one else is ever going to be able to reach.’
Cohen gave up, shaking his head. ‘You’re wrong, Sonya.’
‘Stacey was flawed,’ Sonya continued, her gaze never wavering. ‘Just like you, and just like me. We’ve all got flaws, Dr Cohen. Paige is no different.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or Bryce, for that matter.’
He went still. Did Sonya know about the allegations toward Bryce? He didn’t think she did. Until that moment, at least. But it would make sense, since Paige could have confided in Allison, and then Allison could have possibly mentioned it to Sonya at the coffeehouse. Or Sonya was just doing that creepy know-it-all stuff she always seemed to do at the most inopportune times. He figured there was probably a better chance of that than a line of gossip that began with Paige and Allison. ‘I know, Sonya.’
‘Then do me a favor and sort out whatever is making your heart ache so bad with regard to our resident baker, will you? Because the last thing I want to do is stand by and watch you lose the woman you love all over again.’
Her choice of words, coming from a woman who had been a friend and unwavering support to him through the hardest and worst days of his life – they hit Cohen in the chest with the weight of a sledgehammer. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think about anything except Sonya’s statement. It crushed his soul and broke his battered heart all over again, but there was a sliver of light that those words had managed to let in, too.
‘There’s nothing you could have done to save Stacey,’ Sonya continued softly. ‘And nothing you could have done to save yourself from the grief you endured by her loss. But Cohen …’ She reached out for his hand, grasping it tightly between her own, the thin skin and gnarled knuckles a stark contrast to the large size and strength of his own. ‘You can save yourself from losing Paige. And save her from losing you.’
She gave his hand one last tight squeeze and left without another word about it.
Rhonda’s eyes were firmly fixed on him once he made his way back into the pharmacy. However, he knew by the expression she wore that the storm of turmoil he’d just undergone with Sonya hadn’t yet passed.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked.
‘Paige Henley,’ she said after he closed the door between the pharmacy and the waiting room.
Cohen stifled a groan. Rhonda didn’t have to remind him twice.
‘You’re lucky Sonya hasn’t heard about your little spat with her yet. If she already had, she would have flown in here on her broom and turned you into a frog.’
The comparison of Sonya to the Wicked Witch of the West was amusing to him, but Cohen didn’t laugh. Rhonda’s mention of the argument she’d witnessed put him on edge. While he wasn’t entirely convinced Sonya didn’t already know about what he’d said to Paige, Rhonda was right. The conversation he’d just had with the older woman could have gone worse. A lot worse. ‘I’ve got enough to worry about without adding Sonya Ritter’s nosiness into the mix, Rhonda.’ It was the best he could come up with in order to keep Rhonda from knowing all the gut-wrenching things Sonya had laid out o
n the line for him.
‘You’re telling me.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He snapped out the words harsher than he meant to, but he had a full day ahead of him, and a lot of things on his mind. His emotions were running high, simmering just below the surface. If Rhonda felt the need to press him about this, she was bound to be the one he would take it all out on next if he wasn’t careful.
‘You told Sonya you were going to see Paige tonight.’ Rhonda’s hands landed on her hips, waiting.
‘I will,’ he replied. ‘I mean, I’m going to.’
‘Does she know that?’ Rhonda asked. ‘Paige, I mean? Have you even talked to her since you acted like a jerk?’
Leave it to Rhonda to put him in his place. He might have been her boss, but Cohen also knew her summation of the events was pretty accurate. ‘I haven’t,’ he said evenly. ‘But I will tonight. What are you getting at, Rhonda? You don’t think I should?’ He was getting fed up with the common practice of talking in riddles that seemed to be going on around him today. ‘Just tell me. Please.’ He added the last word as an afterthought.
Rhonda bit down on her bottom lip. Cohen didn’t know if she was trying to hold something back or simply debating what to say next. ‘What I think is irrelevant, boss. But I’d say you should’ve tried to talk to her before now.’ She paused. ‘Mostly because I heard she’s leaving.’
‘Leaving?’ Cohen felt like the room was void of oxygen. ‘What are you talking about?’
He had never seen Rhonda at a loss for words, but her mouth opened and closed a few times before she spoke. ‘Randall Conlin came in this morning. Blatantly asked about Paige and her bakery. Made some comment about her not lasting very long ’round these parts. It seems the coffee drinkers at the diner were talking about only one thing this morning. That Paige is closing up her shop and moving back to New York. I don’t know how they know that, or if it’s just good old speculation on their part. But Sonya just said the bakery isn’t open yet this morning, and that’s not like Paige. You know that. So, it sounds to me like there’s some truth to it, Dr Cohen.’
The Forget-Me-Not Bakery Page 23