A SEAL's Return

by Grace Alexander

  Their stare down was interrupted when Charlotte inched between them. “Am I in trouble for tampering or disabling a smoke detector device?”

  “No, sweetheart.”

  Jake appreciated the tone the man took with Charlotte as she repeated the warning that she must’ve heard on an airplane. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Fire Chief Bernie Pope.”

  “Good to meet you, sir. Given the circumstances.” Jake gestured. “But I think you can see everything’s taken care of now.”

  The fire chief brushed by for his inspection as Charlotte chatted with a familiar face about their gear. The inspection of toasted green beans and casserole took far too long, but the man was making his point. He was in charge, and Jake had caused him to suit up and work when there was nothing to be done.

  Jake softened his stance and recalibrated his approach. “Look, I’m sorry you had to come out.”

  The chief grunted as he took notes.

  “I didn’t call.”

  Pope shook his head. “No, your neighbor said smoke was pouring out of Ally’s house.”

  Wasn’t that the neighbor Ally had promised would be a helpful resource one day? “Pouring might’ve been an overstatement.”

  “Humph.”

  Jake had no idea if that was an agreement or not. “But hey, for your troubles. I just reopened High Beam. If you or any of the guys need a tune-up, swing on by. I could use something to do, and it’ll help me get the word out I’m back and opening up.”

  Pope chuckled. “Trust me, son. Not many don’t know you’re back.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “Then come by, anyway.”

  “Pretty busy.” The chief took a picture with his cell phone.

  Undeterred, Jake stood in his line of sight and extended his hand. “On the house.”

  Pope stopped, noting the intrusion in his work, and studied Jake’s hand. His heavy jaws worked side to side before he gave a nod. “We appreciate what you’re doing for Charlotte.” The chief met his grip, and they shook. “I’ll let the guys know you’re knocking twenty percent off.”

  “That wasn’t the offer I made.”

  Pope pocketed his notes and phone and waved goodbye to Charlotte. “But it was the one that I accepted.”

  Jake needed the business but didn’t want handouts. Then again, that was what he’d just offered. Maybe the chief felt the same way. “All right, then.”

  “Scrape out what you can when the oven cools. Scatter baking soda. Wet it with white vinegar and let it soak. Then attack it with elbow grease if you don’t want to use chemicals, like Ally.”

  “Thanks.” Right now, Jake would rather rip the appliance out and start over, but he had to worry about feeding Charlotte. And not pizza because that would somehow scar her for life.

  Unlike her mother, who never did anything wrong, ever—except take care of everyone and follow every rule and handle every possible concern except when it affected herself. “Don’t worry. I won’t douse the thing in ammonia.”

  Or do anything for now. Except maybe text Nora and see how badly he’d screwed up his little snuggle bug.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The five o’clock hour at the grocery store was like social hour in Tidings among the working moms and last-minute dinner-prepping crowd. Nora chatted her way through produce while Graham shrugged out of the polite chatter with one purpose in mind—pepperoni pizza.

  Baking a frozen pizza sounded far easier than reheating last night’s roast beef and potatoes. She already had salad makings at home, and the roast beef leftovers would keep for another night. Besides, somewhere at the bottom of her purse was a coupon for stuffed crust pepperoni. If that wasn’t fate calling them to the frozen food aisle, Nora didn’t know what was.

  A burst of colorful caftan whirled around the far end of the chilly aisle as Nora made her way toward her son drooling over the dinner options, and she could tell by the way that Coco Fontana gripped her colorful shawl while her mouth moved a mile a minute on a cell phone conversation, meant for all to hear, that something juicy was happening in the social boundaries of the county.

  Truthfully, Nora used Coco as a behind-the-scenes source of useful information. She did so sparingly, but getting the dirt sometimes helped her decipher situations at school that might not be apparent.

  Coco hung up her phone, ditching it with great fanfare in her giant purse as she hooked Graham for a hug before stopping in front of Nora. “Make sure to get a chocolate chip cookie next time you’re near my shop, Graham. It’s been a while since you’ve stopped by.”

  Nora smiled. Coco loved men, young and old.

  The appreciation for attention went both ways. “We will!” He beamed. “Promise.”

  “I can’t wait.” Coco was harmless, but no male in Tidings was safe from her strings-free cookie offers. “I’ll make a fresh batch if you give me a heads-up.”

  Graham’s eyes melted as wide as one of Coco’s cookies.

  Even Nora’s mouth watered, and she wasn’t one for sweets. “Graham do.”

  Sufficiently appeased, Graham ran back to the freezer chests and gaped at his options.

  Coco watched him press against the cold glass. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Pepperoni!”

  “Great choice,” Coco praised. “Study all your options, because I want to chat with your mama.” Her telltale eyebrows waggled.

  Over the years, Nora had decided there was a Richter scale for town gossip. The more each of Coco’s eyebrows wiggled and danced, the more newsworthy the woman found the conversation to be.

  When everyone in town was curious whether Sam Tucker had noticed how Brenda Morgan had started dating again, it was the medium tempo of Coco’s eyebrows and their slight angle that clued the gossipmongers into the not-so-dramatic details of Sam falling for another girl when the money had been on Sam and Brenda to become a couple.

  But Coco’s eyebrows had arched into her hairline, cancanning with every word when she recounted how Max Tucker refused to leave his house as the river flooded during Bennington Battle Day weekend.

  Right now, in the middle of the frozen food aisle, Coco’s brow action indicated that seismic activity was happening in Tidings.

  “What do we need to chat about?” At least there was no need to beat around the bush with Coco. She wanted to share.

  “Penny phoned me earlier.”

  Nora shook her head. “Refresh my memory.”

  “Penny. She works 9-1-1 dispatch.”

  “Oh.” Nora wasn’t sure how she felt about gossip that started with an emergency phone call. “Is everyone okay?”

  Coco swatted away her concern like a fruit fly from apples. “You are never going to believe what she told me.”

  Nora guessed everyone was okay. If anyone had been rushed to the Westbrook Center by ambulance, the conversation would have had a different tone. “What did Penny tell you?”

  Coco flapped her arms and made her multicolored caftan flair. “Well, it involves the fire department.”

  Oh, the theatrics. It was what this woman lived for, yet there were only so many things that involved a 9-1-1 call that Nora could consider guilt-free gossip.

  Nora needed to feed Graham and decided guessing might speed the conversation along. “Oprah Winfrey is hosting an anniversary reunion show at the firehouse. All proceeds go to fund your museum—”

  “Oh. That would be nice.” Coco’s face froze, likely lost in the innumerable poses she’d pulled in an instant. “But no.”

  “Do I have to guess again?” Nora flicked a glance at her son. “Graham might wither away.”

  Coco snapped out of her fame and fortune daydream and glanced at Graham, pressed against the frozen food case as if he’d never seen food in his life. “No more guessing.”

  “Great. Give me the goods.”

  “The fire department is wrapping up a run to the Harding house.” She pitched forward. “Where Jake Westbrook moved back to today!”

&n
bsp; “What?” A little gasp caught in Nora’s throat.

  “Penny said it was a double whammy while he cooked dinner.”

  Nora’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Do I joke?” The town gossip balked then pursed her lips as though offended that Nora had questioned the authenticity of her intel.

  “I didn’t mean to be rude, Coco. It’s just…” She half wanted to burst out laughing and half needed to check on Charlotte. “We were just there.”

  “Right, Graham and Charlotte.” Coco bounced her finger, apparently remembering the friendships of kindergartners. All in the job of the town busybody. “Friends? Something more one day?”

  “Never.” She shook her head. “They’re like siblings. But not. Would be if they could, though.”

  “Like the Westbrook and the Lauder—I mean Harding—girl. I never saw Ally as a Harding. Always a Lauder.”

  Nora lifted her shoulder. “I didn’t know Davis Harding. But I do know I need to feed Graham.”

  “You don’t want to know what happened?” Coco gaped.

  Goodness, what Nora didn’t want to do was insult her again. She tried not to laugh at the thought of Jake needing the fire department while he cooked dinner. “I didn’t realize you knew more details, Coco. Sorry. What happened?”

  “What happened?” Coco repeated, flapping the shawl. “Everything happened!”

  Hmm. Coco was to be used only in small doses and for therapeutic purposes. A perfect student might take a nosedive before an impending divorce was announced. Coco would know. Nora could come up with actionable steps. But this was starting to look like chin wagging that served zero purpose. “Just the quick version. I can’t forget about Graham for too long.”

  Coco straightened her arms in her shawl then crossed them. “Double whammy.”

  “I got that.”

  “He cranked up the heat on the stovetop, but it was the oven that did him in.”

  Oh good gracious, would she just spit it out? Nora glanced at Graham, now opening and closing the door to the frozen pizza section. “And…?”

  “He tossed a hand towel in the broiler under the oven, thinking it was a storage cabinet. Poof. “ Coco threw her arms in the air, and her shawl splayed brightly. “Fire.”

  Nora slapped her hand over the mouth. “Oh my.”

  “The next-door neighbor called the fire department. Said the kitchen caught fire. Smoke was billowing out the front door and windows.”

  Oh no! Poor Jake. She didn’t want to laugh. This wasn’t funny.

  “All that smoke?” Coco shook her head. “I bet half the kitchen in that sweet cedar is gone. Just gutted. Can you imagine what it must look like? Bet the walls are black, the floors too…”

  Nora’s mind wandered to Ally’s—no, Jake’s—beautiful kitchen. Had he really burned it out? That would be a shame, and if so, she wouldn’t laugh any more.

  Coco clucked. “Now that I think about it, maybe that was his plan.”

  “I’m sorry?” Nora asked, torn from her worries.

  “What better way to up his bachelor status?”

  Nora gaped. “What?”

  “Very smart. Handsome man like that, one who needs help in the kitchen but who is trying? Comes from a good family with deep roots?” Coco’s voice flittered. “And have you heard his story?”

  “He has a story?” Nora’s brow furrowed. This was why she didn’t gossip. She didn’t know if the headache pounding in her temple that very second was from frustration, annoyance, or exasperation.

  “He walked away from an elite private security firm for Charlotte.” Coco tilted her head, repeating, “Elite” again.

  Nora offered a closed-lip grin.

  “Charlotte and Graham are close,” Coco cooed as though privy to military-grade secrets. “I thought you would have known that already.”

  A flash of protectiveness rushed through Nora. Jake wasn’t fresh meat for the single ladies in town to pounce on. He had much important concerns to face, like learning to raise a highly intelligent young girl who’d had more than her fair share of traumatic events in a short lifetime. “Yes,” Nora added when she wasn’t sure if Coco’s eyebrows could arch any higher. “I’m aware he was a Navy SEAL and worked for a private security firm.”

  “Navy SEAL.” Coco fluttered her eyelashes. “That sounds as nice as elite.”

  Nora’s chest pounded. “We have to go, but Coco—”

  The Coco’s cell phone buzzed, and she perked up as if Publisher’s Clearinghouse might be calling with good news. “Sorry, dear. I have to take this.”

  “Sure, but, Coco.” Nora rested her hand on the other woman’s forearm. “Give him more than a day to get used to his new life before you throw him to the wolves.”

  Coco’s smile wavered but remained strong. “I can’t forget that, now can I?” Then, with as much flourish as she’d arrived into the aisle, she departed.

  Nora thought quietly about how Jake might feel. Maybe homesick. Maybe he missed his team. The last thing he wanted was to be the center of gossip. Either way, she had come at him all wrong earlier, and he didn’t need to get another round of muckraking from the rest of Tidings.

  Nora bit her lip. Nor did she want a crew of the single and interested showing up at his door. But that wasn’t why she’d said something to Coco. Was it?

  She walked over to Graham as he dropped his head back and groaned. “I’m so hungry. I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

  “Oh no. That sounds horrible.” She put her pointer finger to her chin and tilted her head, humming. “Maybe we should rush home and have leftovers?”

  Graham snapped to like a soldier with his arms at his sides and his head facing forward. “Just kidding. I’m fine. Can we still have pizza? Please.”

  He was such an animated kid, and he was the only guy she needed in her life. That answered her question too. Even if a smidge of interest might have been piqued—or more than a smidge—she wouldn’t have kept gossipmongers from Jake just because she was interested in him.

  “Which pepperoni did you decide on?”

  He skipped two doors down. “I can get it! I can reach yours too!”

  “Hang on.” She wasn’t that predictable. Sometimes she tossed it up and had thin crust or veggie.

  He threw open the door and nabbed his pepperoni then correctly guessed she wanted the extra cheese–stuffed crust.

  “Good choices.” Her cell buzzed from the bottomless depths of her purse. If the thing wasn’t loud enough to hear, she’d forget she had it, unlike Coco, who always had hers readily available. Nora silenced the notification calling for attention but spotted Jake’s name.

  The muscles near her collarbones tensed automatically, and Nora flushed.

  JAKE: I’m in need of recommendations.

  “I bet.” She laughed as Graham tossed the pizzas into her grocery basket.

  NORA: I might have some of those. What’s up?

  JAKE: Healthy. Fast. Delivery or takeout.

  NORA: For dinner?

  JAKE: That wasn’t obvious? Sorry. Yeah, for dinner.

  JAKE: I had dinner plans. Two different plans actually. But things didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.

  NORA: …I heard. ;)

  JAKE: Really?

  NORA: Some version of what might have happened. Yeah.

  JAKE: Man. Nothing changes in Tidings, does it? Word still travels fast.

  “Mom? Are we leaving now?” Graham bounced on his toes.

  Nora pulled herself away from the cell phone.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Oh, well. I don’t know, then,” she stammered as heat crawled up her neck. “Let’s go.”

  They were headed toward checkout when another text popped up.

  JAKE: Finally got everyone out of the house and about to go get takeout. Any suggestions? I’d rather sit somewhere, but I’m sure everyone a
t Table Talk has heard by now.

  “Do we need anything else?” Graham sidestepped across the front of the store. “Can we leave?”

  “We are leaving.” She quickly texted back.

  NORA: So what?

  JAKE: Coco’s coffee crew will stare and judge so they can take notes.

  Her cheeks flamed. He had no idea how dead on he was and how busted she was too. Tidings wanted to wrap everyone in its arms but not before the town had a good gander.

  “You’re walking slow,” Graham said.

  She wanted to tell him not to nag, but she was walking slowly. Texting Jake was a distraction, but every now and then, she had to use her phone. It wasn’t an everyday thing.

  But texting Jake wasn’t work or something she had to do…

  They moved into a short line, and she dropped the basket on the conveyor belt and her phone in her purse. “Give your mom a break every now and then, okay, big guy?”

  Graham leaned against her, and Nora stroked his hair. Still, her mind wasn’t one hundred percent focused. She could have invited Jake and Charlotte to have pizza with them tonight. Charlotte ate with her and Graham several days a week. Maybe making that offer would be like penance for trading in gossip on what was Jake’s first day on a new job. Karma was going to kick her butt if she didn’t do something good—and quickly.

  But her nerves jittered, and that was because she smiled at her phone when Jake’s name popped up.

  “Did you have library today?” she asked Graham, changing the subject to one she was certain about. Kids and school.

  “Yeah. We read a book where this kid was new and he sat alone at lunch and ate different foods than everyone else and no one gave him a chance and…”

  Nora’s eyes shut. Was it her imagination, or did every conversation find a way to point toward Jake in some way?

  “Then the other boy went over and made a friend. And they liked the food in the other lunch box. And found out new was okay and that the old kid was new to the new kid too. And…”

  Nora pulled out her cell phone, less jittery and forgetting that she thought Jake was attractive and that she’d judged him earlier.