by Lee McKenzie
“Are you settling in?”
“Getting there. Still haven’t tackled the kitchen, though, and the gas for the barbecue hasn’t been turned on yet so we have to settle for takeout tonight.”
“You won’t be disappointed. Paolo’s pizzas are incredible. Best in the world, according to my daughter.”
“Sarah!” A middle-aged man in a white chef’s apron waved at her from the other side of the pass-through. “Your pizzas will be outta the oven in a coupla minutes.”
“Thanks, Paolo.” She set her handbag on the counter and pulled out her wallet. “I always call ahead,” she said. “Casey and I have pizza and watch a movie together every Saturday night.”
Something akin to envy washed over him. Saturday movie-and-pizza sounded like the kind of routine a family should have, although his never had.
The woman who’d been clearing tables approached the counter. “Sarah, good to see you. How’s your beautiful daughter? She is getting ready to go back to school, yes?”
“We’re all set, Maria. This is her first year of high school so she’s excited and a little nervous, too.”
“Tell her she has nothing to worry about. That girl of yours, she can do anything.”
“That’s sweet. Speaking of high school, I’d like to introduce my neighbor. This is Jonathan Marshall, the new teacher at Serenity Bay High. Jonathan’s daughter is the same age as Casey.”
Maria’s scrutiny was intense. “You live next door to our Sarah? This is good, yes?”
There was no mistaking the suggestive sparkle in those dark eyes, and he didn’t have to look at Sarah to know her self-consciousness matched his.
“Paolo!” Maria angled her head in the direction of the kitchen. “This is the new teacher.”
“Benvenuti to Serenity Bay! You like it here, no? And for you today we give you your first pizza on the house.”
“Oh, no,” Jon said, taken aback by the unexpected display of generosity. “That’s not necessary.”
“Si, si.” Maria wiped her hands on a towel. “Any pizza you like. You a teacher, you work hard. That’s good, yes?” It was more a statement than a question, and it was directed at Sarah.
This time he did glance down to see her reaction, and he liked what he saw.
“Just you and your daughter? You are not married, yes?” Maria’s question was directed at him, although she hadn’t taken her eyes off Sarah.
Paolo’s leisurely amble out of the kitchen broke the tension. “Here you go. One for you and one for Casey,” he said, setting two extra-large pizza boxes on the counter in front of Sarah.
“You’re each going to eat a whole pizza?” The question slipped out before Jon could stop it, but Sarah simply laughed.
“Not all in one sitting.” Sarah handed her credit card to Maria. “We’ll save a couple of pieces for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Pizza for breakfast?”
“You’ve never had cold pizza for breakfast?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
And he could live with that.
“Here’s an idea,” Maria said. “You and Casey, you’re having pizza. And you are taking pizza home for your daughter, yes?”
He could see where this was going. Judging by Sarah’s reluctant nod, so could she.
“You all should have dinner together.” Maria waggled her finger from one to the other. “And your girls, they get to know each other, be good friends, yes?”
He liked the idea more than he had any right to.
Sarah tilted her head. Her eyes, more green than gray in this light, were serious but the creases at their corners hinted at an uncertain smile. He’d initially thought she was standoffish, even a little uppity. Not so, he realized. More on the shy side, and because of that she was going to say no way, not in his wildest dreams was he insinuating himself into her evening. He shouldn’t care but he did, because an evening in the company of another adult suddenly had a lot of appeal.
“It’s not a bad idea,” she said, the smile now real. “For the girls, I mean. And it’ll give you and your daughter a break from unpacking.”
Okay. Not the reaction he expected, but she was right. Getting his daughter out of the house, having her spend time with someone her own age, would be good for her. “Sure,” he said. “Your place? Mine’s still full of boxes.”
Maria and Paolo stood shoulder to shoulder on the other side of counter, each sporting a mile-wide grin.
“Buona idea.” Maria sounded surprised, as if the good idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was a sly one, Jon thought. He had a hunch he was going to like this woman and her husband, and their food, if the warm aroma wafting from Sarah’s pizza boxes was anything to go by.
She tucked her credit card back into her wallet and picked up the boxes. “I’ll see you when your pizzas are ready. It’s a nice evening, so we can sit out on the deck.”
He watched her walk away, again noting the sensible flat shoes. This time he also noticed how she managed to walk like a woman wearing stilettos, and then he wished he hadn’t.
“You have decided what you want, yes?”
Jon swung around. “Ah. Yes. Two pizzas, please. Extra large.”
Paolo was back in the kitchen, throwing dough as he chuckled to himself, and Maria’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she jotted his order on a notepad. “Bella donna,” she said. “Una buona mamma.”
His Italian was far from fluent but he knew enough to know that the softly spoken phrases did not translate to Neapolitan or prosciutto with caramelized onions. And pizza was all he wanted. Just pizza.
* * *
SARAH PARKED IN the driveway between her place and her new neighbor’s. Jonathan’s place. Randomly stacked cardboard boxes, empty, she presumed, littered the porch, and a pair of bicycles leaned against the rail.
Maria and Paolo were about as subtle as a ton of bricks. While she’d stood there in the restaurant, with the pair of them grinning shamelessly and Jonathan waiting expectantly, the suggestion that they share a meal had seemed like a good one. Mostly she’d been thinking about her daughter. Sarah loved that Casey was content to march to the beat of her own drum, but a mother always wanted her daughter’s adolescence to be different from hers. Sarah had been the quiet kid, the wallflower. The first one everyone thought of when they needed help with homework or the gym decorated for a school dance. The last one considered when sleepovers were planned and party invitations sent out.
Sarah knew she couldn’t arrange “play dates” for a teenager, but it might be good for Casey to have someone close to her own age, a classmate, living next door. And maybe for Kate, too. The poor girl had looked lost and sullen, like a kid who could use a friend.
So far today, Eleanor Bentley and Maria Donatelli had not-so-subtly hinted about how nice it was for Sarah to have a handsome, eligible man living right next door. Silly romantics, both of them. Yes, Jonathan seemed to be a nice man, and yes, he was one of the most attractive she’d ever met. Did that mean she would toss common sense out the window, risk everything she’d worked so hard for? Absolutely not. She and Casey had a good life, a secure life, and she wouldn’t jeopardize that for anyone, no matter how dazzling his cool blue eyes might be.
Sarah let herself in the front door, set her handbag and keys on the hall table, and made her way to the kitchen with the pizza. Casey had set out plates, glasses and napkins on the island, but she was nowhere to be seen. Sarah switched the oven on low, shoved the pizzas inside to keep them warm, and took two more sets of dishes out of the cupboard.
She dashed upstairs and found Casey sprawled on her bed, earbuds in her ears and head bobbing to music as she scanned the screen of their iPad.
“What are you working on?” Sarah asked from the doorway.
; Casey glanced at her and smiled.
“There are so many animals at the shelter right now. It’s crazy. I’m posting pictures of them on Facebook so everyone can see how adorable they are and maybe decide to adopt one of them.”
“That’s a great idea.” Which meant Sarah would see them, too, because one stipulation of her daughter’s being on Facebook was allowing her mom to have full access. A stipulation that Sarah took full advantage of, including checking the privacy settings periodically to make sure only her daughter’s friends had access to the things she posted. “Is there a picture of Petey?”
“No. I’m starting with the older animals because they’ll be harder to adopt.”
Putting up photos of the animals was a good idea, although Sarah knew exactly why Casey hadn’t included Petey’s picture. She wanted to adopt him. There was no time to go there right now, so Sarah changed the subject. “We’re having company for dinner tonight so I need to get changed and get back downstairs.”
Casey’s expression changed in an instant. “Company? We never have company.”
“Of course we do. Your grandparents come to visit twice a year.” One week at Christmastime and two weeks in early July.
“Grandparents aren’t company, they’re family.” Wary now, Casey swung off the bed and faced her. “Who’s coming for dinner?”
“The new neighbors, Jonathan and Kate. I ran into him at Paolo’s. He was picking up pizza, too. It seemed the neighborly thing to do since they’re not settled in yet.”
“Are they going to watch the movie, too?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Twilight might not be his thing, but you and Kate can watch it.”
Casey responded with an adamant head shake. “No. You and I watched the others together and I want us to watch this one, too. Besides, she might not have seen the first three, and you can’t watch them backward.”
It was impossible to believe there was a teenager on the planet who had missed those movies, but her daughter’s insistence on watching this one with her lightened Sarah’s heart.
CHAPTER THREE
THE INSIDE OF the car now smelled every bit as good as the pizzeria, making Jon’s mouth water and reminding him how many hours it had been since he’d last eaten. He pulled into the driveway next to Sarah’s car, grabbed the boxes and took the front steps two at a time. Now to break the news to Kate that they were having dinner next door. Would she react favorably? He hoped so. It’d been a long day and he wasn’t up for a fight, or even a disagreement.
He unlocked the front door and pushed it open. “Kate? I’m home.” He held his breath till he heard her response.
“Be right down, Dad!”
Encouraged by her pleasant tone, he set the pizzas on top of a stack of boxes still waiting to be unpacked. He hoped she wouldn’t make a fuss about going next door to eat, and he hoped she’d make an effort to get along with Sarah’s daughter, because he was looking forward to having some adult company.
She was smiling when she joined him at the bottom of the stairs. “Mom called,” she said.
Thank heaven for small miracles. “The two of you had a good talk?”
“Yeah, we did. She apologized again for not making it back to Vancouver this summer. She thinks maybe Thanksgiving or for sure Christmas.”
Georgette’s “for sure” was as good as a “maybe,” but this wasn’t the time to dwell on the negatives. “Who knows,” he said. “She might make it for both.”
Kate shrugged. “I doubt it. She said she’ll book rooms at the Hotel Vancouver and we can spend Christmas there. You, too.”
“Oh, that sounds...nice.” Not. He couldn’t imagine anything more excruciating than spending the holiday with Georgette and Xavier. Lucky for him, that was months away and plenty could change between now and then, Georgette’s mind being one of them.
“Right now we have a more immediate invitation. I ran into our neighbor—Sarah—at the pizza place and she invited us to have dinner over there. I told her we would. I hope that’s okay with you.”
She shrugged again. “Sure. Do we need to take anything?”
He picked up the pizza boxes and held the door for her. “Just these.”
On their way to the house next door, she chattered about her new room and how she nearly had all of her stuff organized. She had even sent a couple of pictures to her mom, who thought the room looked great.
Jon made a mental reminder to send Georgette a text message after dinner and thank her for getting in touch with Kate. He liked seeing their daughter like this, almost effervescent, especially compared to her earlier funk.
They climbed Sarah’s front steps and rang the doorbell. The prospect of having dinner with a beautiful woman, teenagers notwithstanding, had improved his outlook, too. And his mood ratcheted up a few more notches when Sarah opened the door. Since he’d bumped into her half an hour ago, she’d undergone a head-to-toe transformation from ultrachic businesswoman to a hip-looking young mom in navy jeans and a creamy yellow lace top that flared below her waist. The diamonds dazzling her ears matched the rhinestones that studded her flip-flops.
Her smile was warm and genuine. “We’re really glad you could join us,” she said.
He smiled back. So was he.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, Sarah watched Casey polish off her fourth slice of pizza. She said she wanted to try one of each, and to everyone’s apparent surprise, she’d succeeded.
“I have to go upstairs and feed my critters,” she said, tossing a balled-up napkin into one of the empty boxes. “Would you like to come with me?” she asked Kate.
“Critters?” There was no mistaking the uncertainty in the girl’s voice.
“That’s what I call them. My mom says she’s allergic to cats and she won’t let me have a dog...” During a drawn-out pause, she narrowed her eyes at Sarah. “So I have other animals in cages and aquariums.”
“Any snakes?” Kate asked. “Those are gross.”
Casey shook her head. “No. I mean, I don’t think snakes are gross, but my mom would never let me have one of those, either.”
Sarah laughed. “Creepy-crawlies make me squeamish, too, but even I’m okay with these critters. They’re harmless, trust me.”
Casey momentarily looped her arms around Sarah’s neck. “Thanks for the pizza, Mom. You, too—” She hesitated. “Um, Mr. Marshall, I guess.”
“How about we reserve the ‘Mr. Marshall’ thing for school?”
Casey grinned.
“And soccer practice,” he added. “Otherwise it’s Jon.”
“Sure.”
Kate pushed away from the table and followed Casey across the deck. “Thank you for having us over. This was nice.” She hadn’t had a lot to say while they ate, but Sarah could tell she was a sweet girl and she liked her quiet confidence.
“You’re welcome. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“She’s a great kid,” Sarah said to Jon after the girls went inside and closed the sliding door behind them. “Nice manners, too.”
“Thanks. She has her moments but mostly, yes, she’s a good kid.”
He seemed both reluctant to give her too much credit and pleased that someone else recognized his daughter’s positive traits.
“Would you like coffee?” she asked. She hoped he would say yes. In spite of his parenting skills, which were awkward at best, she had enjoyed their conversation over dinner. “If you can afford the time, that is.”
“Ah...sure. That’d be nice.”
“I’ll run in and make some.” She gathered up the pizza boxes and tucked them under one arm, then picked up the tray with all of their empty plates and glasses.
“Let me help with those.”
“Thanks, but I can manage.” She gestured toward the bay. “You’ve h
ad a long day. Sit and enjoy the view. I’ll be right back.”
Inside the kitchen, she poured water into the coffeemaker and filled the basket with grounds. While it brewed she quickly loaded the dishwasher and set a pair of bright red coffee mugs and a mismatched creamer and sugar bowl on the tray. Almost as an afterthought, she added a small plate with some of the cookies.
Jon had hesitated when she’d offered coffee. Perhaps because he still had a lot to do at home. Or maybe he’d had enough of her company for one evening. No, she didn’t think that was it. She’d felt a little spark at the pizza place. She was sure he had, too, although she had to admit to being completely out practice when it came to these things. Paolo and Maria’s matchmaking aside, an attractive single man would draw attention in a small town like Serenity Bay. There weren’t many single women here, but she knew a few married ones who’d be wishing they were. A thought that didn’t sit well, she realized.
She filled the two mugs and carried the tray back outside. Jon stood with his back to her, leaning on the railing. The view always captivated her, and tonight was no exception. The tide was low and the bay itself was calm. Out on the strait, though, a light breeze had the surface dancing, and in the distance a cruise ship destined for Alaska glided by, lights twinkling in the dusk.
“Here we go.” She set the tray on the table and he walked back to join her. “Cream and sugar?” she asked after they were seated.
“Black is good, thanks.”
She scooped sugar into hers, added cream, stirred. He was watching quizzically when she looked up.
“I have a sweet tooth.”
“I can see that.”
She held out the plate. “Help yourself.”
“Ah. Cookies. Thanks for the ones you dropped off this afternoon. They were...great.” And he was a terrible liar.
“You didn’t look at all guilty when you said that.” His grin suggested he was onto her. “Casey thought we should bake something to welcome you to the neighborhood, but I am not a cookie-baking kind of mom. Actually, I’m not much of a cook of any kind.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” he said, and he sounded sincere. “I was glad you stopped by. So was Kate, although she might not have let on.”