She looked from him to the bike she was still clutching and said, “I just realized that I don’t have a lock for this.”
“Don’t worry about it. Paradise is a pretty honest place. No one will steal it.”
“You’re sure? I just had my car stolen barely five miles from here. Because I would feel awful if someone took it.”
Considering his reaction earlier, could he blame her for her caution? But Paradise wasn’t the type of place where people stole bikes. “Highway crime rarely ever makes it into our little town. Besides, people watch out for each other here. Just park it next to the door. It’ll be safe.”
She did as he suggested and followed him inside. She went to her locker to drop off her purse and he went into his office to do the orders for next week. He didn’t see her again until the dinner rush was at its peak and he came out into the bar to greet the regulars—which was pretty much anyone there. Most were locals, but a good 20 percent of his weekend summer business came in from neighboring counties. And it wasn’t unheard of to get a couple or two all the way from Denver. They came for the food, above-par service and the country-western bands he hired to play every Friday and Saturday—sometimes two or three a night.
His father had never served crowds like this. Of course, the bar was half the size back then and the only food on the menu was burgers, fries and pizza. He’d never had the money or the inclination to take it to the next level. Fresh out of college with a business degree under his belt and a new position as a financial adviser, Joe implored him to apply for a business loan, to take a chance on expanding into a full-service eating establishment. He’d even worked up several business plans for him to consider, but he had resisted till the bitter end. The insurance money after his death had given Joe the means to follow through with his plan. He liked to think that it was what his dad would have wanted, that he would have been proud of him.
He often wondered if taking over the bar and essentially chaining himself to Paradise permanently was what had put the final nail in the coffin his marriage had been gradually sliding into almost from the minute they’d said “I do.” Up until that point, maybe Beth had believed that there still might be more to life than being a small-town wife and mother. That they may have landed somewhere more exciting, like the West Coast she had ultimately chosen over him and Lily Ann.
Whatever her motivation, he was finally beginning to accept that her leaving had been inevitable. And although the healing process had been a slow one, and they were bound to hit some rough patches in the future, he was beginning to realize that he and Lily Ann would be okay.
As he made the rounds, stopping occasionally to chat or help deliver a food order or drink, Joe watched Reily working the bar with Lindy. The woman didn’t stop moving for a second. If she wasn’t filling orders she was wiping down the bar, refilling the nut dishes or chatting up the regulars sitting there, who he couldn’t deny seemed pretty taken with her. Not that he could blame them.
Their eyes met and she shot him a smile so easy and sweet, he actually forgot to breathe for a second. He had to fight the urge to smile back.
“Hey, Joe!” someone shouted over the music.
He turned to find Annie, one of the servers, approaching him. “Jill’s gone AWOL again and she’s got three orders up.”
He grumbled under his breath. He was going to take care of this problem once and for all. “I’ll get her,” he told Annie, heading for the back door. Just as he was reaching for the handle it opened and Jill stepped back inside.
“Oh, hey, Joe,” she said cheerfully as if she’d done nothing wrong. As though she hadn’t ignored countless warnings about taking too many breaks, especially during the dinner rush.
“Hand them over,” he said, holding his hand out, palm up.
She blinked. “What?”
“Your cigarettes. Give them to me.”
She took a step away from him, clutching the pack to her chest as though he were a thief demanding her valuables. “Why?”
“Because I’m tired of you taking unsanctioned breaks.” He wiggled his fingers and she reluctantly handed them over. “From now on, when you want a smoke break you have to come to me. And every day when you get to work you’re going to drop them off in my office. Understood?”
Jill nodded, then her gaze drifted past his left shoulder and her eyes widened a fraction. Joe turned to see that Reily was standing behind them.
“Sorry. I need a jar of maraschino cherries,” she said, gesturing to the stockroom, which they just happened to be standing in front of.
“I’ll bring them up in a minute,” he said.
She nodded and, avoiding Jill’s gaze, walked away. When she was gone he told Jill, who was red-faced with embarrassment, “You’ve got orders up and three tables who are waiting for their food.”
She mumbled an apology and hightailed it into the kitchen. He hated that he had to treat her like a disobedient adolescent, but she wasn’t giving him much choice. His only other option at this point would be to fire her, but he knew she needed the job. Joe grabbed a jar of cherries from the stockroom, and on his way back to the bar, dropped Jill’s cigarettes into the top drawer of his desk.
When he stepped behind the bar he handed the cherries to Reily.
“Sorry about that,” she said, setting it on the counter beside the sink. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“No need to apologize,” he said.
“It’s just that I know how embarrassing it can be to be chewed out by the boss, but it’s even worse when you have an audience.”
“After the way she treated you earlier, I would think you’d enjoy seeing her chewed out.”
“I’m sure she had her reasons for acting that way, and I’m guessing they have a lot more to do with her being unhappy than anything I did.”
She was spot-on. She seemed to have a knack for reading people.
“It doesn’t bother you when people are rude for no apparent reason?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “Sure. I mean, no one wants to be disliked. But it takes a lot less energy feeling sorry for someone than it does loathing them. Besides, no one can make you feel bad without your permission. I think that’s a quote from someone, but I don’t know from who.”
“Eleanor Roosevelt,” he said. “‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.’”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile. Then a customer gestured for another drink and she was back to work, leaving him to contemplate what an unusual and intriguing woman she was.
“She’s quite a girl,” George Simmons, the owner of Simmons’s Hardware said. He was in his usual spot at the bar, the same one he’d occupied nearly every Saturday night since his wife, Elaine, passed last year. He sipped a Heineken and snacked on hot wings while he watched the Rockies clobber the Brewers. “And I don’t mean just because she’s cute.”
“So, you like her?” Joe asked.
George took a bite of a wing, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Sounds like she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“I like her, too,” Wade Spencer piped in from two seats down. He’d been carrying the mail in Paradise since he had graduated high school forty-some years ago.
Joe grinned and leaned on the bar. “Maybe you should ask her out on a date.”
“Prolly would if I thought she’d go out with an old fart like me.”
George shot him a look of exasperation. “And you don’t think Lila’s going to have anything to say about that?”
Lila was Wade’s wife and the mother of his six boys. Their youngest, a set of twins named Markus and Michael, had been in Joe’s class from kindergarten through graduation.
“I suppose that might be a problem, too,” Wade admitted with a wry grin. “But a man can dream, right?”
Joe chuckled. “Can
I get either of you another beer?”
He served the men their beers, chatted up a few more customers, then donned an apron and helped out in the kitchen for a couple of hours. In addition to working at his dad’s bar, he’d worked part-time in the diner as a cook during high school, and he still enjoyed working the grill occasionally.
At ten, when the dinner rush was over, he was back out in the bar greeting the second wave of customers. This was the younger, rowdier crowd. They ordered hot wings and potato skins and flocked onto the dance floor.
Around 1:00 a.m. the crowd began to thin, and at two when they closed out the register, the bar was empty. Joe wouldn’t add up the receipts until morning, but he could tell by the exhaustion on his employees’ faces that it had been a busy night. After everyone else had left, he discovered Reily still behind the bar, restocking for the next day.
“Leave it for tomorrow,” he told her. “It’s late.”
“I hate leaving things unfinished,” she said, looking as exhausted as he felt.
“Well, I’m getting ready to lock up, so unless you want to spend the night here…”
She grinned. “I’ll finish tomorrow.”
Joe waited for her by the back door as she gathered her things from her locker, then they headed out into the deserted back lot. As he had predicted, the bike was still there. He toed the kickstand up and wheeled it over to his truck.
“Um, what are you doing?” she asked, looking confused.
He lifted the bike up and laid it in the bed of his truck. “Driving you home.”
“But rides to and from work weren’t part of the deal,” she said.
Now she was being ridiculous. “You didn’t think I would make you ride home when we’re leaving at the same time, going in the same direction?”
“Truthfully?” she said.
Considering how cross he’d been with her earlier, she probably had. But he wasn’t nearly as much of a jerk as she probably believed. He unlocked the truck doors and said, “Get in, Reily.”
He half expected a fight from her, but she must have been pretty exhausted because she didn’t argue. She just hopped up into the passenger’s seat and buckled up.
When he got in she asked, “Is the bar this busy every weekend?”
“In the summer,” he said, starting the engine. “In the winter it slows down, especially if the weather is bad.”
“You do an impressive business,” she said as he pulled out of the lot. “Especially for being in a small town.”
“I’ve been lucky.”
She looked over at him. “I doubt luck has anything to do with it.”
They drove along in silence for several minutes, then she said, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I know this probably isn’t the best time.…” She paused, as if she was hesitant to bring it up.
He glanced over at her. “Was Jill giving you a hard time again?”
She shook her head. “It’s not about work. It’s about Lily Ann.”
“What about her?”
“Did you know that she blames herself for her mother’s leaving?”
Her statement took him aback. How could she possibly know that? “Who told you that?”
“Lily Ann did.”
“She just blurted out that she blames herself?”
“She overheard me tell Sue about my parents being dead, and when she was showing me the bike she told me that she didn’t have a mommy either. She thinks Beth left because she potty trained late, and her mommy got tired of changing poopy diapers.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he said, pulling onto his street. He wasn’t buying it, and he didn’t think it was any of Reily’s business anyway. “I think she was pulling your leg.”
“She wasn’t, Joe. She was completely serious. At five, I doubt she has the maturity to joke about something like that.”
He turned into his driveway, parking in front of the garage and cutting the engine. “Look, I appreciate your concern—”
“No, you don’t. You think I’m full of crap and that I should mind my own business.”
Well, that much was true.
“I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I thought long and hard about this and decided that I needed to mention it to you. You might not believe it, but I’m not the type of person who butts into other people’s lives. But Lily Ann seems like a sweet kid, and I just hate the thought of her blaming herself for something that clearly isn’t her fault. Talk to her or don’t talk to her, it’s your choice. I just had to let you know what she said to me.” She unbuckled her seat belt and shoved the door open.
“My daughter is fine.”
“I hope you’re right about that. Thanks for the ride.”
She hopped out and headed up the stairs to the apartment. He got out of the truck and watched until she was safely inside, then let himself in the side door of the house. The television was on in the family room; Sue was lying on the couch dozing to some old black-and-white Jimmy Stewart movie. No matter how many times he told her that he could pick Lily Ann up at her place, Aunt Sue insisted that a child should sleep at home in her own bed.
“I’m home,” he said.
She jolted awake and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Goodness, I guess I nodded off. How was work?”
“Busy. How was Lily Ann?”
“Busy.” She grabbed the remote and switched off the TV. “She was a little feisty this afternoon, what with the Tooth Fairy coming, so we walked into town for ice cream after supper. That wore her out. Her tooth is in an envelope on your desk in the den and there’s a dollar bill under her pillow.”
“Thanks.”
She stood and stretched. “Well, I’m going to head home. See you at ten.”
He walked her to the door. Just as she was stepping out, he said, “Hey, Aunt Sue.”
She turned and looked back at him.
“Has Lily Ann ever said anything to you about Beth’s leaving being her fault?”
“No, why?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just something someone mentioned. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He locked up behind her, then went upstairs to check on Lily Ann. He opened her door, and through the light streaming in from the hall he could see that she was curled up with her favorite baby doll and had kicked the covers all the way down to her feet. He walked over to her bed, kissed her forehead and pulled the blanket back up over her. For several minutes he stood there, watching her sleep, thinking about what Reily had told him.
He couldn’t imagine her lying about what Lily Ann said, but it was possible that she’d misunderstood or that Lily Ann had been teasing her. He knew his daughter, and she had never been one to keep her feelings to herself. If she felt that way, he would have heard about it by now.
Still, there was a small part of him that wondered, what if Reily was right?
Chapter Six
Joe’s Place was even more packed on Saturday night than Friday, but the bar was closed Sunday and she wasn’t scheduled to work Monday, and Reily was happy to have a couple of days off. She woke late Sunday morning and because she hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping yet, she rode her bike into town for breakfast at the diner. She parked the bike in the rack out front. As she was walking up to the door, P.J. was walking out. Reily almost didn’t recognize him in casual clothes and a baseball cap. Behind him walked a younger, taller man in a deputy uniform.
“Well, good morning!” P.J. said, a toothpick wedged in the corner of his mouth. He turned to the deputy. “This is Reily, the woman I was telling you about. Reily, this is my son Nate.”
“Nice to meet you, Reily,” Nate said, smiling and shaking her hand. He looked like a younger, taller version of his dad. “You seem to have made quite an impression on my dad.”
&nbs
p; “He literally saved my life.”
“I heard Joe gave you a job,” P.J. said. “I’ve been meaning to stop by the bar to see how things are going.”
“Really well, actually. Not only did Joe hire me, but he’s letting me stay in his garage apartment. Lindy’s friend Zoey gave me some hand-me-down clothes, and Joe’s aunt Sue left a care package on my doorstep last night. Everyone has been so nice.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” he said with a grin that made his eyes crinkle in the corners. She’d almost forgotten what a kind face he had, and she counted her blessings that he had been the officer called to the gas station that night. “I have a garage to paint today, but I’ll stop by the bar on my night off and we’ll have a chat.”
“I’d like that,” Reily said. “And it was nice to meet you, Nate.”
“You too,” Nate said, flashing her a dimpled smile that was just a little flirtatious. He was cute in an all-American kind of way. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Reily pushed through the door of the diner, which was clean and well maintained, even though the décor was from an era long past. She stopped at the hostess stand, but before anyone could seat her someone called, “Hey, Reily!”
She looked over to see Lindy sitting in a booth by the window with another woman. They gestured her over. As Reily made her way past a row of booths, she recognized at least half a dozen patrons from the bar. They all greeted her warmly, as though they had been acquainted for years instead of just a day or two.
“Hey, Reily.” Lindy said when she reached their table. “This is Zoey.”
Zoey looked as chic and trendy as Reily would have expected. Her hair looked professionally colored and styled and her makeup was flawless. She reeked of old money.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Reily said, shaking her perfectly manicured hand. “I can’t thank you enough for the clothes.”
“It’s no problem,” Zoey said, smiling warmly. “Why don’t you join us for breakfast?”
No Ordinary Joe Page 6