Third Strike's the Charm

by Nicci Carrera

  Ripper’s tail wagged as he made his way on arthritic limbs to her side and nuzzled her hands.

  “Hi, Mama! Hi, Ripper.” Cara scratched the dog behind his silky black ears.

  “Mama,” Cara said, after hugging her, “you aren’t making mole just for me, are you?” The old family recipe was time-consuming.

  “For you, and for your sister and brother-in-law.”

  Her heart lifted at the unexpected news. “Rick and Maya are coming home for Fourth of July? They didn’t tell me.”

  “Si. Last minute decision.” Mama’s smile was contagious.

  The heaviness of Cara’s complicated life gave way to the simplicity of sharing a holiday with family. “When are they due?”

  “They’ll be here in time for dinner.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful!”

  “Are Blanca and Luke coming?”

  “No. They can’t come.”

  A bit of the weight returned, settling on her shoulders.

  “What’s wrong, Cara?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  Mama held a wooden spoon that dripped dark rich sauce back into the pan. “Talk to me.”

  “You’re cooking.”

  Mama set the spoon in the rest. “It can wait a minute.”

  Evading Mama’s questions was pointless, but with a distraction, she could avoid mentioning her worries about Blanca, which were just a vague gut feeling. “Jason and I had a disagreement.”

  “Oh no. What now?” A drop of glossy brown sauce formed on the edge of the wooden spoon.

  “I found out he was keeping a secret from me. He didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

  The drop of sauce finished forming and dripped into the pan. Mama’s eyes softened. “Did he tell you the secret now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then now he trusts you.” She stirred the pot as though all problems were resolved.

  Maybe it really was as simple as that. It was hard to argue with Mama’s reasoning, but she had to think it all through. Her concern wasn’t just over the secret, or the lie. She had secrets and lies of her own. That’s what concerned her. Jason had a long history of waiting a really long time to tell her important things. And she had hidden her outings with Francie from him. Their long history should be a strong foundation, but instead it seemed to prove that on some deep level they didn’t trust each other.

  “Mama?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you and Papá tell each other everything?”

  The spoon came out of the sauce as Mama stared at her. “What, mija?”

  “You know, did you keep important secrets from each other?”

  “Eventually, no. But we were married a long time before Eduardo revealed some of the stories from his childhood. Men can be very private about their families. Well, about everything. But over time, pretty much everything came out.”

  Over time. Cara’s heart calmed, but a hitch of discomfort still lodged under her lower ribs. “Did you keep anything from him? Have secrets, like with your girlfriends?”

  Mama laughed. “Of course, Cara. Our girlfriends are where we can talk about our husbands. Nothing that would be a betrayal, but a safe place to…how do you say, compare notes.”

  Well, she didn’t compare any notes with Jason’s mom at least! “What about doing something he wouldn’t approve of?”

  “Both husbands and wives do that with their friends. It is good…what is the saying…to blow off steam.”

  Did that count when she was blowing off steam with Jason’s mother? Darn, it was complicated! “Thanks, Mama. Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”

  “No, sweetheart. You go have fun. Dinner’s at six.”

  Fun…That meant Francie. Jason said he had a catering gig this afternoon. She wouldn’t have to face him yet. Perfect.

  She dragged her suitcase to her room, told Mama where she was going, and headed next door. Jason’s truck was gone. Cara knocked, then let herself into the Ward’s house with her key. “Hi, Francie!”

  An unfamiliar caregiver stared at her with an open mouth.

  “Oh, I’m sorry! I forgot Francie had people—you—helping her during the day now.”

  The caregiver said, “I’m Simone. And you are?”

  “Cara Cruz. A friend. I live next door.”

  “Cara!” Francie’s voice came from the living room.

  “Hi, Francie!”

  “So you know this woman, Mrs. Ward?”

  “It’s Francie. Mrs. Ward was my mother. This woman is my bestie. You can go now.”

  Simone went back to washing dishes.

  Francie’s blue eyes snapped in the sunlight. “I’m so glad you’re home. Finally that boy of mine did something sensible.”

  A pang of conscience pricked Cara’s heart. Poor Francie had no idea just how much Jason had done for her. She wouldn’t be happy. Jason always made it seem like his mom was doing him a favor by letting him live with her after he “washed out of baseball.”

  Francie’s happy sparkling eyes and smile sent a knife of guilt through Cara’s heart. Keeping a secret from her was a burden. Did Mr. Tight Lips Jason Ward also find his secret a burden? Why did he lock everything inside? Because he knew what it would do to Francie if she thought he quit his career for her. That’s why.

  “How are you?” Cara pushed aside these weighty issues and kissed Francie on the cheek.

  Francie held onto Cara’s hand and looked into her eyes. Then her gaze shifted toward the kitchen and back to Cara. Her eyebrows bobbed.

  Cara ambled into the kitchen. “Simone, if you’d like to go home early, I can take care of Francie the rest of the afternoon.

  A frown of disapproval turned down the edges of Simone’s stern mouth. “I couldn’t do that without Mr. Ward’s permission.”

  “I understand. But, I’m sure it will be okay with Jason.” Cara hoped to soften the blow for what she was about to say. “Just a question though. Isn’t your client actually Francie, not Jason?” Cara had been learning a lot of stuff about health-care laws lately. Francie wasn’t incompetent, so even though Jason made the arrangements and paid the bills, she was the client.

  Simone inhaled sharply, then carefully dried the dish. “Yes, that’s true.”

  “If you like, Francie can call the agency and tell them.”

  “Yes, that would be best.”

  “I’ll finish the dishes for you, too, so you can enjoy this beautiful day.”

  Simone took out her phone, punched in the number for the agency, and handed it to Francie. She did all of this so briskly Cara had to jump out of her way. She came from an agency in Trenton, which had a bit more of a fast-paced culture than Lobster Cove. Not that it would take very much to move faster than Lobster Cove.

  After Simone left, Cara said, “Is that what you wanted me to do?”

  Francie’s eyes twinkled. “Exactly. Now we’re rid of Nurse Starchy.”

  Cara smiled. “We haven’t been partners in crime this long for nothing.”

  “Leo Gambino’s big game is this afternoon.”

  “You’re kidding. Another big game?”

  “Yep. More of those kayak folks. His game has actually become a popular hit with the paddlers. A lot of them leave with lightened wallets.”

  A giggle escaped. “I’m surprised they come back.”

  “Leo lets them win a few, so they keep coming back. I was thinking since Jason is working today, we could zip on over there and play a hand or two. I bet Dirk will be there, too. I like his hands.”

  Cara laughed, then said, “Francie, I think we should tell Jason. I feel badly keeping this from him.”

  “He’s so disapproving.”

  “He’ll understand. He’s not your boss.”

  “Okay.”

  Whew, that wasn’t as hard as Cara expected. She helped Francie to the car, and they drove to Leo’s.

  ****

  Jason parked the Love Caters All delivery van in front of Leo Gambini’s house. Hopeful
ly none of the guys at the poker game would notice he’d driven up in a pink van with a big heart painted on the side. He’d never hear the end of it. Sure, he could take ribbing, but not today. If he was wondering whether or not he’d struck out with Cara, there was no longer any doubt. Withholding the truth from her was strike three. Plain and simple.

  He stepped into the back of the truck and grabbed one of the big metal trays filled with sandwiches. He really didn’t want to work this gig, but he needed the money, and, when he’d planned the trip, he figured Cara would want some time alone to recover from her flight. That plan turned out to be very good, given they broke up practically as soon as she came off the plane. It was a very good thing he had something to do today. Not that his mind was really on his work.

  He needed to concentrate. He couldn’t afford to blow a catering gig. He was already fighting an uphill battle getting jobs. Town folk were tight with a penny. Plus they figured they could cook for themselves. Lobster Cove locals were self-reliant.

  Leo Gambini was a special case though. The bachelor didn’t know how to cook. Then again, Leo wasn’t really a Lobster Cove original. Maybe that’s why he was willing to part with a little cash for some good grub.

  ****

  Leo beamed at Cara from his open doorway. She’d forgotten about the commanding appearance of the big Italian man.

  “Cara Cruz.” Leo looked past her shoulder. “Does that mean Francie’s here?”

  Big Dirk appeared behind Leo, a head taller and half a foot wider, than Leo. Letting Dirk help Francie inside, Cara followed Leo into the spacious great room of the modern home. Four new people filled a second table in the living room. Three of the new people were strangers, but one of them was that guy who’d flirted with Sheila at Murphy’s Bar. He sported a brush of whiskers on his chin and upper lip that was so in fashion these days. Personally, Cara hated it. She was glad Jason didn’t follow trends. He shaved every day. Of course his dark whiskers meant shadow toward the end of the day, so he was a little trendy by accident. He was way too sexy for his own good.

  Don’t think about Jason. This was a day for fun with Francie. Cara crossed to the table. “Hi, Terry. We met briefly at Murphy’s one time. Cara Cruz. How are you?”

  Terry grinned, recognition in his light brown eyes. “Hi, Cara. I’m fine, thanks. Fancy meeting you here.”

  “I’m home for Fourth-of-July. Francie is a regular, when she can make it.” She was dying to ask him about Sheila. Were they dating? No, better to wait and ask her friend.

  Terry quirked an eyebrow. “Do you play poker?”

  Cara shook her head. “No. I just bring Francie here. I hang out and help with the snacks.”

  “Leo serves great food.”

  Cara puzzled over the comment. Cheese doodles, beer, and soda were great food?

  Leo came up beside her. “Terry is head of the kayaking club. He and I go back a bit. His dad and I knew each other in Boston.”

  “Nice to meet you again and learn a little about you.” Cara moved off to the kitchen to start putting out chips and drinks.

  To her surprise, Leo followed her into the kitchen. “You don’t need to do that today, Cara. I’ve been going upscale with the food. You know, with the extra people coming in off the water, I need to feed them lunch.”

  “What? Don’t tell me you know how to make a sandwich, Leo.”

  “Hey, I’m a mama’s boy.” Leo patted his stomach. “I was raised with tables full of food, but I never even learned how to boil water.”

  Charmed by Leo’s statement, Cara smiled. “So, what’s for lunch?”

  The doorbell rang. “Lunch is here. I think you might be in for a surprise.”

  A surprise? What was Leo up to? “You going to get that?”

  “Would you mind doing the honors? I’d like to chat with the men. And woman.”

  The bell rang again, so Cara zipped across the room, sneakers beating time on the parquet floors. She turned the knob and pulled open the big solid wood door. And froze.

  “Jason?” Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Remember you’re mad at him. Traitorous body.

  Jason held a tray full of sandwiches, his head tilted to the side, his brow wrinkled. “Cara?”

  Busted. Would he really mind that she brought Francie here? He might. The butterflies in her stomach were squeezed out by a tightening noose. “Hi. I guess you’re catering.”

  “Yep. I didn’t know you played poker here.” The narrowing of those green eyes with the unfairly long dark lashes told her he didn’t really think she was the one playing poker.

  “Can I help you with that?”

  “Sure.” He surprised her by shoving the tray of sandwiches into her hands. Then he stepped around her. He stopped and stared at his mother. “Hi, Mom.” His voice was tight.

  “Hi, Jason! Want us to deal you in?”

  He glowered.

  “Oh, never mind. He sucks at cards. Okay, boys, the game is Seven-Card Stud, ladies wild, ante up.”

  Cara grabbed his arm and led him to the kitchen. His scowl curled her toenails.

  When he saw Leo, though, he put on a big smile. “Leo. Sandwiches are there on the counter as you can see. I’ll be right back. Cara, would you like to help me get the rest of the stuff out of the van?”

  “No,” she muttered. He was going to chew her out for bringing his mom here. She didn’t want to draw more attention to the situation by arguing with him, so she followed him out to the porch. She was trembling with guilt. If only she’d had a chance to tell him about their outings.

  Wait a minute. She needed to work up her righteous ire. Just remember how he was so mean at Maya’s wedding for one little accidental kiss…all because he had “only just discovered” he couldn’t go back to baseball. The tactic worked. Her blood heated again—this time not just because she was following this gorgeous hunk of male. She wanted to swat that insolent behind of his—and not entirely in a good way.

  Jason climbed in the back of the Love Caters All van. He had a firm set to his mouth when he held out his hand. With misgivings, she accepted, letting him pull her close. He opened the refrigerator and handed her a large plastic bowl filled with green salad. “Can you take care of that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Follow me.” He grabbed a filled punch bowl. As they were walking up the ramp, he said, “How long have you been taking my mother to these games?”

  She pursed her lips then said, “Six years.”

  Jason stopped. “What?”

  “Watch out! You’ll spill punch all over the place.”

  He glanced down at the sloshing red liquid then back to her. “You know I don’t like her coming here. There’s cigar smoke and booze.”

  “Have you seen either of those today?” But her cheeks heated because there were plenty of times when the atmosphere was just as he’d described.

  “Maybe not today, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I know how these things go. It’s not good for her. Besides, I don’t like gambling. Not after what happened to Dad. And then there’s Garrett.”

  “Francie’s not getting into any trouble with gambling. She has it under control. It’s just friends here, anyway. It’s not like she’s gambling real money with a bookie or something.” Dang it, she shouldn’t have said that. The way Jason winced told her the offhand comment cut too close to home. “Sorry. Not a sensitive thing to say.” When Jason nodded, she continued, speaking softly now. “Anyway, you know how we talked about the importance of Francie still having fun?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded, studying the bowl of punch.

  “Well, to tell you the truth, sneaking around to the poker games is super fun for her. Makes her feel like a rebel and half her age.”

  Jason gave a short laugh.

  “I was going to tell you today. Your mom and I agreed it was time to let you know.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.” He led the way inside, carefully balancing the punch this time.

  Lightness filled Cara’s che
st. Jason had forgiven her. It meant a lot that he also understood what she meant about disabled people needing to have fun. She was even more glad she’d included Jason on that piano bar outing for the people at Harbor Manor. Sharing that experience made them partners, in a way. In an adult way, a new way for them.

  Jason called out, “Come and get it!” He set a sandwich on a plate, trimmed off the crust, and carried that, along with a glass of punch, to Francie. He patted her on the shoulder. “Enjoy, Mom. Keep an eye on her, boys. She used to cheat when she played with me.”

  Cara laughed.

  “I never cheat when we’re playing for money,” Francie said, wide-eyed as she faced her scowling opponents.

  Looked like she’d been right. Getting past a misunderstanding over the phone or email was way harder than in person. Seeing Jason in action, listening to him, feeling him, smelling him, reminded her at a cellular level that he was great. Once she returned to Chicago, she’d have to do a lot better than lapsing into texting the minute something upset her. Modern tools existed to help maintain closeness in long-distance relationships: that fancy “smart” phone was only smart if she used it to make a call, or better, to connect with video.

  Mama said love would find a way. Jason managed not to communicate with her for two years. She understood because of his reasons. He wasn’t secretive to benefit himself. No. For his mom. The insights Mama had shared about growing closer over time lent perspective. She was ready to be a wife, to take on the kinds of challenges that marriage requires. Maybe she and Jason had a head start with all the time they’d known each other. If so, all their history, which had seemed to be coming between them, had an upside. They already invested a dozen years and were starting to open up to each other.

  The part about having girlfriends to share with, well she wouldn’t share things about Jason with Francie. Maybe not with anyone.

  The men collected their lunches and settled down to their game, leaving Jason and Cara alone. They hung out in the family room, away from the poker tables. Jason took the easy chair, while Cara settled on the couch.