She asked Aunt Beth once and her question made Aunt Beth frown. “Some daddies don’t deserve to be daddies. You just think of Uncle Mark as your daddy, sweetie.”
Uncle Mark was a nice man, and he laughed a lot. But he wasn’t really her daddy. She supposed she could pretend.
Pretending worked sometimes. She’d sit on his lap when they watched TV, and hold his hand when they walked to church. But deep down she knew it wasn’t the same as having her real daddy with her.
When she was ten, her real daddy came back into her life. He got a job at Swede’s garage and talked about the future. He’d buy a house in Icicle Falls. She could come and live with him. They’d make up for lost time.
He started out with the best of intentions, taking her to Italian Alps for pizza. “We’ll go every week, just the two of us,” he promised.
Every week turned into every other week or whenever he could “find the time,” which became a rare occurrence.
“He can always find time to go to that tavern in Wenatchee,” she once heard Aunt Beth say to Uncle Mark. She’d tried not to let it bother her, but those words sat at the back of her mind like a sore that never quite went away.
Aunt Beth was wrong, she decided, when Daddy got back on track and came to take her out to eat. Aunt Beth frowned at him, but Mia didn’t care. Her daddy was back and he loved her. She hung on to his arm with great pride as they walked into the pizzeria.
Her father was such a handsome man, tall and lean with a big smile and muscled arms. She saw how ladies looked at him, the same way girls at school looked at boys they liked. Sometimes, he smiled at them or stopped to talk. Until Mia would tug on his arm. Then he’d say, “I’d better pay attention to my date,” and the ladies would smile and talk about seeing him later.
This particular night they ordered their usual Cokes and a pepperoni pizza and settled at a corner table covered with a red-checked tablecloth. He asked about school, asked how many boys were chasing her.
“Daddy, I’m only ten,” she said with a giggle.
“But you’re a pretty girl, just like your mother was. I bet boys are following you all around,” he added with a wink.
Boys didn’t follow her. And when one did speak to her she’d get tongue-tied. The only boy she was comfortable talking to was Colin.
Their pizza arrived and they each took a slice. All that cheese and spicy pepperoni—yum!
She was starting on her second piece when he cleared his throat. “Mia, I’m not working at Swede’s anymore.”
“Are you going to work at the chocolate place?” If he did, maybe he’d bring her chocolates.
He shook his head. “No. I’m afraid I’m going to have to move.”
“Can I move with you?”
“Not yet. I have to find a good job.”
“Here in Icicle Falls, right?”
“Probably not, but don’t worry. I’ll write.”
The pepperoni pizza wasn’t sitting well in her tummy now, and she pushed away her plate. “You never wrote before.”
“Things happen, Mia. You’re just a kid. You don’t understand.”
She understood that he’d left her and her mother when Mama was sick and they needed him most. She understood that he was leaving again. She scowled at the half-eaten pizza sitting between them.
“Come on, now, don’t be like that,” he coaxed. “Finish your pizza.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Mia, I can’t help it if I have to go look for work.”
“Why don’t you work at the chocolate place?” she begged.
“Now, don’t worry. I’ll find something. I’m going down to California. I’ll send for you, take you to Disneyland.”
She’d rather he stayed here and took her out for pizza. “Don’t go, please.”
But his mind was made up. By the next week he was gone, leaving behind the promise to call her as soon as he got settled.
At least he’d kept his promise to call. For a while he checked in regularly, telling her all about San Diego and the zoo he’d take her to when he could afford to bring her down for a visit, but after a couple of months, the phone calls tapered off. Then he disappeared from her life once more.
Still, she’d been so sure he’d remember to send her a present for her thirteenth birthday. After all, it was a very important birthday, not like the last one, which he’d forgotten. She’d written him a letter reminding him. He hadn’t written, back but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t call or send a present. Maybe earrings. Aunt Beth had promised she could get her ears pierced when she turned thirteen and she’d told him all about that, too.
She’d checked the mailbox as soon as she got home from school on the big day. There was no present there, no card. Aunt Beth must have brought the mail in. That was it. There’d be a card waiting for Mia on the kitchen counter.
There hadn’t been.
Grandma Justine had baked her a German chocolate cake and given her the latest Harry Potter book, and Aunt Beth had bought her makeup and promised a trip to Gilded Lily’s the following day after school for the rite-of-passage ear piercing. And there’d been a pretty pair of earrings shaped like butterflies from Colin and Dylan. None of those treats, no matter how wonderful, could make up for the fact that there was nothing from her father.
She’d left Grandma Justine’s dinner table in tears and run to the orchard. Colin had followed her and found her under one of the apple trees, her knees pulled up to her chest, sobbing.
“I’m sorry your dad forgot your birthday,” he’d said.
“He’s left me again. I hate him!”
“You don’t need him, anyway,” Colin had said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “You’ve got us.”
* * *
You’ll always have a family. Her mother’s prediction had come true. The Wrights had been her family all those years, helping her eventually find her footing, giving her a safe place to stretch and grow and work on climbing out of her shell.
Except now Grandma Justine was gone and all she had left were Aunt Beth and Uncle Mark. She didn’t count Colin’s dad. He’d never been a warm, fuzzy guy, and as she’d gotten older and more perceptive, she’d had the distinct impression that he didn’t care for her. The time he’d caught her and Colin together in the orchard had confirmed it with mortifying clarity.
Colin, on the other hand, had been her best friend and loyal defender and her true love...until he wasn’t.
* * *
“I bought some peaches while you were out,” Beth was saying, her words yanking Mia back into the present. “I thought it would be fun if we made peach upside-down cake for dinner.”
“I haven’t made that in years,” Mia said. “I’d love to.”
“And how does fried chicken and potato salad sound?” Aunt Beth asked, smiling at Colin. Of course, she’d make his favorites.
“Sounds good,” he said.
“I can help you with that, too,” Mia offered.
“Except we need to get this next clue,” Colin said.
“You also need to eat,” his aunt informed him. “I bet you didn’t even have lunch. Let’s have some dinner and then I’ll give you your clue.”
His phone signaled a new text message.
“Babe?” Mia guessed mockingly.
“Babe?” Aunt Beth echoed and cocked an eyebrow. “You said you weren’t with anyone.”
“I said I wasn’t engaged.”
“Then who are you texting?” Aunt Beth demanded.
He scowled. “Aunt Beth, do you mind?” he said irritably, thumbing his cell phone.
His aunt’s eyes narrowed. “As a matter of fact, I do. This is supposed to be family time.”
“I think you guys can manage making dessert without me.” Another text came in an
d he started replying.
“If you don’t lose that phone I swear I’m going to shove it in the oven along with the cake,” Aunt Beth threatened.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered. The phone alerted him to yet another text. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t go far,” Aunt Beth called after him as he ducked out of the kitchen. “Whoever he’s with, it’s not serious,” she said to Mia.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Mia said. Who was she trying to convince, Aunt Beth or herself?
April 9, 1996
Dear Mother,
I hope you enjoyed the Sweet Dreams bunny-shaped truffles. Gerald bought me a box, too, which I’m savoring. I’m only allowing myself one a day. That way they’ll last longer.
Our Easter was lovely. After church we had our usual Easter dinner with ham and garlic mashed potatoes. I also made that lovely Peach Bavarian salad, which used up the last of my canned peaches. I’ll have to can more next time. In honor of Anna, Bethie baked our traditional bunny cake, which we’ve been making since she and Anna were girls. It gave us a few tearful moments, but I’m still glad she did it. It’s one more way we can keep our Anna with us.
Even though the ground was soggy, we still had our Easter basket hunt. As the children have gotten older, we’ve made the hunt bigger. This year we sent them all over the place looking for clues—the yard, the garden, the tree house, even the henhouse. Mia took a spill and muddied her dress, and Colin very chivalrously postponed the search while Bethie ran her home to change.
By the way, that living arrangement is working very well. Mia’s irresponsible father has no problem whatsoever with Bethie taking care of his daughter. And yes, I know what you’re going to tell me. I should try for more charity toward the man. But honestly, I can’t find anything about him to like. I worry that he’ll end up hurting little Mia just like he did her mother. I guess all I can do is pray and try to be a good grandma to her and Colin. I do so love those children.
Oh, and speaking of children, we got a sweet Easter card from little Jimmy Conner and his mommy. They’re doing well and want to come out and visit us this summer.
That’s all the news for now. Kiss Emmaline for me.
Love,
Justine
Chapter Six
Colin finally turned off his phone and went for a walk. His steps took him to the downtown area. New shops had been added since he was a kid, as well as the skating rink, but the flavor of the place was exactly the same. A lot more people, though, that was for sure.
Of course, that was what Gram and all the other movers and shakers who’d reinvented the town over fifty years ago had wanted. They’d saved it from extinction, turning it into the American equivalent of a Bavarian village. With the mountains serving as a backdrop, the Maypole in the middle of town, all the murals and flower boxes on the buildings, it looked like something lifted right out of the Bavarian Alps. Between the German costumes the shop owners wore and the oompah bands playing in the gazebo, plus the yodeling and people playing alpenhorns every time there was a festival, Icicle Falls was probably more German than half the towns in Germany. Every year the place seemed to get more popular with tourists.
And newcomers kept moving in. You always used to see people you knew on the street. Not today. There were no old-timers in the throng of new faces.
Oh, here was someone he recognized, Hildy Johnson, coming out of Johnson’s Drugs. Getting stuck talking with the town gossip was the last thing he wanted to do. He ducked around a corner and jogged across the street, making his way to Bavarian Brews. He hadn’t had a Blended Bavarian since he hit town and was suddenly craving one, a drink featuring bits of chocolate and caramel swirls.
He’d barely gotten in line when Cecily, one of the Sterling sisters and part of the Sweet Dreams Chocolate Company empire, joined him. Except she wasn’t Cecily Sterling anymore. Now she was Cecily Goodman.
“Welcome home,” she said.
He’d always liked Cecily. She had a kind smile and a kind heart to go with it. She’d owned some kind of matchmaking service down in LA before she moved back to town. Hardly surprising since she’d had a rep as a matchmaking genius back when they were all teenagers. Not that he’d needed her help; he’d known who he belonged with. Or so he’d thought.
“Hey, how’s it going? I heard you had a kid,” he said.
She beamed. “Luke Junior. He’s adorable.”
That was hardly surprising, either, considering how gorgeous Cecily was.
“I’m sorry about your grandma,” she said.
His appetite for a Blended Bavarian died. “Thanks.”
Sensing his need to move away from that particular pain, she hurried on. “So, when are you moving back to Icicle Falls?”
At the rate he was going, never. “Good question.”
“You will come back, you know,” she teased. “We all do.”
“Yeah?” What would it be like if he did manage to come back? He’d heard the saying that you can’t go home again. Even if he did, he’d never be able to recapture what he’d had growing up.
“Oh, yeah. And, speaking of coming back, I had a chance to catch up with Mia at the memorial service.”
Oh, boy, here was a conversational land mine Colin didn’t want to step on. Never have conversations about an ex-girlfriend with a matchmaker. He pulled out his phone. “Sorry. I, uh, need to make a phone call.”
She nodded and gave him one of those knowing smiles women were so good at. “Sure you do.”
He beat it out of there and checked for texts. None from Lorelei. That was surprising. And a relief, actually. He was in no mood for another barrage of questions.
Before returning to the house, he stopped in at Lupine Floral. He always brought Aunt Beth and Gram flowers when he came to visit. This time he’d been too distracted. But hey, it was never too late to flower up.
“Oh, dear boy, how are you?” Heinrich, one of the owners, greeted him.
“I’m okay,” he lied. “How about bundling me up a bouquet for my aunt?”
“I have just what she’ll like in the cooler.” Heinrich pulled out a fat bouquet of orange, yellow and red flowers, all his aunt’s favorite colors. “We’re going to miss your grandmother,” he said as he rang up the sale. “She was one of a kind. Your poor aunt. This is going to be especially hard on her. You really should move back.”
Yep, that was the curse of a small town. People not only knew your business, they also felt entitled to run it. Colin decided he’d had enough of wandering around town. This killing time was killing him. He paid Heinrich and got out of there.
Back at Aunt Beth’s, dinner preparation was under way and all kinds of great smells greeted him. He came into the kitchen to see Mia taking the peach upside-down cake from the oven. Aunt Beth was at the stove, frying chicken.
“Oh, flowers. Thanks, Colin Cootie. Mia, put those in a vase, will you? And Colin, you’re just in time to set the table.”
Colin handed over the flowers, then started counting silverware. Once—when he was about ten—he’d argued that setting the table was girls’ work. “We don’t discriminate in this family,” his aunt had informed him. “Everyone pitches in where he’s needed, and right now you’re needed to set the table.” And that had been that.
Over the years he’d been needed for everything from taking out the compost to picking peas. He’d raked brush, driven the tractor, picked apples and helped Gramps plant new trees. All those country chores had woven themselves deeply into his psyche.
So what the heck was he doing still working at a grocery warehouse in Seattle and living in a pricey apartment where the closest he got to dumping compost was sending a bag of garbage down a chute? If he was going to work in a warehouse the rest of his life, he could just as easily work at Sweet Dreams. Or he could get a job with one of
the fruit packers in Wenatchee. What was there in the city to hold him?
Oh, yeah. Lorelei.
He’d met Lorelei at the gym. He’d seen her training other guys, smiling and laughing with them, making their training session look like a real party. “Okay, now, give me twenty more sit-ups. Show me that six-pack.”
Then one day he found himself on a treadmill next to her. Her red hair was gathered into a ponytail that swung back and forth when she ran. She kept checking him out; he kept checking her out. He’d already run two miles before she came over, but he stayed on until she stopped, logging in five more. She toweled off, grabbed a bottle of water and smiled at him. “This is my laid-back day. How about you?”
“I’m a wimp,” he’d said.
She’d smiled some more. “Stick with me and I’ll get you buff. Although you look pretty buff. I think you’d make my job easy.”
A little flattery, that was all it took. Next thing he knew, he was working out under her careful supervision. Then he was running his first marathon and training to do the Seattle to Portland bike ride, along with ten thousand other participants. It felt great. Suddenly, his life had meaning. Well, sort of. Not on a par with being a doctor or missionary or something, but he was doing more than punching the clock at work and then going out for a beer with the guys or to the occasional Mariners game. Now he had a girlfriend who might just be a keeper, and he had lots to do.
So much to do that he began to find himself having, well, almost too much of a good thing. Lorelei liked to keep busy, which meant that Colin now liked to keep busy. Workouts, marathons, bike rides, restaurants, clubs, dancing, more workouts, not to mention a workout between the sheets. By Fridays he’d been starting to drag. By Sundays he’d been wishing it was Friday, so he wouldn’t have to go in to work. He began to wonder if he was running low on testosterone.
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