As Denise settled under the blankets that night and drifted off to sleep, she realized she might've made a new friend. A hard to handle how good looking he was kind of friend, but she would have to try and ignore that.
Chapter Thirteen
When Alex opened the door into his mom's kitchen that evening, he felt at home. He always loved the house he grew up in and he'd forgotten how much. His mother worked two jobs to keep it when he was a kid, all for him to have a yard to play in and a neighborhood to run around in. Even as a child he appreciated that, and her, even when he missed her when she was gone so much. As an adult, he was happy when he started making enough so that he could finish paying the house off for her. Every month, he happily sent her money so she could pay her utilities or anything else she needed. It took a long time to get there and a longer time for her to accept the money, but they finally had it all worked out.
She was waiting for him, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea in one hand and a book in the other. "How was your night, Alexander?" she asked with a tired smile, setting her book aside.
"Interesting," he said, bending over to kiss her cheek before pulling up a chair beside her. "But nice. How was yours?"
"I'm almost done with this book Denise picked out for me," she said, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. "She has great taste, even if she insists she doesn't read romance novels."
"That so?" he asked, perking up at the sound of Denise's name.
"Yes. Maybe she doesn't like to read about romance because she would much rather experience it for herself. She's not a big talker, that's for sure, but I noticed she doesn't wear a wedding ring."
"Sounds like something you would notice," he said, taking the mug from her hand and sipping from it.
"What are your thoughts on Denise? She's such a pretty girl, don't you think? She's much taller than Wendy, too! Not that it matters, I only think it should be noted. And Denise is so much nicer."
"Denise is unavailable," he said, feeling a pull at his heart thinking of her earlier that night. The thought of her crying, possibly over some other guy, upset him more than he expected.
"I can believe it," his mother was saying, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm sure she has someone in her life, but I've never seen her talking to anyone when I'm in the store. I must ask, what kind of man wouldn't go visit his lady while she works? Unless he's working, then it would be alright. Don't you agree, Alexander?"
"She's going through a breakup, Mother. A divorce, it sounds like," he answered, not wanting to have this conversation with her. "I saw her tonight with a new haircut."
"A breakup, you say!" his mother exclaimed, oddly excited by this news. "If she got a haircut, I'd say a breakup is about right! Isn't that the first thing we ladies do when we get dumped?"
"Get dumped? Really, Mom?" He couldn't help but laugh at his mother's antics.
"That is still the phrase, correct?" she asked, doubting herself suddenly.
"I guess so," he shrugged. "But, like I said, I think it was a marriage-"
"Won't you two be the pair, Alexander!" his mother went on, her mind running away from her. "Both of you going through this, it can be a good thing! You must be over Wendy by now, it's been months! You need to snag Denise, it won't be long before someone else tries to. I'll have to think of something," she finished, lost in thought.
"Mom, she wants to be friends," he said, shaking his head, tired suddenly. "It's just as well. I don't even live here, can't forget that. Sometimes I wonder what kind of fantasy world you live in."
"Friends?" his mother asked absently, nodding her head. "That can be good. I read these novels all the time, Alexander. A good relationship starts with being friends."
"The novels tell you that?" he asked, smiling.
"Don't tease me! I have lived a life. I had you, after all."
"Spare me, please."
"We need to get serious now. It's time for you to come back home. What's left for you in Chicago?"
"I don't want to have this conversation again," Alex groaned. "I have friends and a life there. Not to mention, I should get back to work soon. I can't live off my savings forever, and there are more opportunities for me to be a chef than here."
"Nonsense! I met the most amazing woman today and she told me they're hiring at the country club here in Rockford. They have your fancy, stuck up food there."
"That's what you're going to call it, Mom?" he asked, frustrated. Much as he loved the woman, she could drive him crazy.
"It's a good place to work and the pay is good. That's all I'm saying."
"It's nothing compared to what I made at Sam's," he said, saddened thinking of the restaurant he'd loved so much.
"Where did it get you, Alexander?" his mother asked sweetly, and he suppressed another groan.
"It got me five years at a gourmet restaurant, for starters. I get calls every day from people who want me to work in their kitchen."
"No need to get snippy," his mother said casually, angering him more. "I know your career is important to you."
"Do you? You never seem to care about how hard I've worked to get us where we are now."
"I don't understand why you have to work a thousand miles away. I would rather have you than the money any day of the week."
"It's a guilt trip, then? You knew I was only coming to clear my head. Well, now it's clear."
"I don't think it is."
"It is," he argued, feeling like a child.
"You never want to believe I know what's best for you, but I do. I know where you should work, where you should live, and who you should marry."
"Is that all?" he asked, and they laughed. He felt himself soften.
"Yes, that is all. Unfortunately for me, a son never listens to his mother. Even when it's clear she always knows best."
"Fortunately for you, you have a son who will come visit you a few times a year. I will make that promise to you now, and I'll always pay for your ticket to come see me."
"Would you buy one for Denise, too?" she asked with a smile that made her look ten years younger. "She would probably love your city, don't you think?"
"Mom," he said, but he didn't want to argue about it. He couldn't help but love the idea of Denise visiting him in Chicago. He would take her to his favorite places to eat and show her the best places to shop. The thought warmed his heart in more ways than it should.
"You wouldn't have to, see," his mom said, interrupting his thoughts as always. "Because she's here, just as you should be, just as she has been since she moved here."
"Do you know when she moved here?" Alex asked, curious about her. Maybe his mother had stopped listening to her own voice for even a little bit to find out something about her.
"Yes," his mother answered, sipping the last of her tea and staring straight ahead for a moment, as if in deep thought. Alex sighed audibly. Now she was quiet?
"Really, Mom?"
"Did I pique your interest?" she asked sweetly.
"I'm going to bed," he said, rising to get up but she stopped him.
"I liked Denise from the first moment I saw her. She replaced this one gal I didn't like. She always popped her gum like a child, drove me insane! Denise was always so helpful. She always, from the very beginning, set aside books for me and told me about the latest shipments. A dear, you see. Oh, how she would listen to me go on and on about you. I told her many stories about you, since the day I met her."
"If you meant for her to like me before she even met me, you told her the wrong stories," he laughed, thinking of what she said earlier at the lake.
"I couldn't tell her only the wonderful things about you. Where is the fun in that? I had to let her think you were a snob and that you never, ever call your mother back. That part was true."
"Once again, I'm sorry, Mother," he said, smiling at her. "Thanks for letting a stranger in on all my business, while we're at it. You really are crazy, you know that?"
"Denise is not a stranger," she said as if she w
ere offended.
"Tell me one thing about her that has nothing to do with the fact that she's the greatest employee that ever lived."
"She's heartbroken, for one, smarty-pants."
"Tell me something I didn't tell you."
"Alexander." His mother chuckled to herself, patting him on the hand. "I've known it for years longer than you have. Four years at least, to be more specific."
"Excuse me?" he asked, frowning. "Do you mean to tell me she's had this same heartbreak for four years?
"That's exactly what I'm telling you," Rosie Evans told her son, serious now. "Are you saying she had to tell you she was heartbroken? Didn't you know?"
"I knew something was up," he said honestly. "Four years, though..."
"She's a widow, Alexander," she said, matter of fact.
"She told you that?" Alex was dumbfounded, but suddenly everything he knew about Denise made sense. His heart broke, thinking of what she went through.
"She told me nothing," his mother said. "I just know. She has an aura of sadness about her I've seen since I met her."
"If you knew that, why did you pretend earlier she was going through a breakup?" he asked, more confused than ever.
"I thought in that moment it's what you needed to hear. Your insistence on wanting to know more about her leads me to believe I was right all this time and you care about her."
"We just met. Those were her words to me tonight."
"That hardly matters. The more times I visited the store, the more I knew she could be right for you. Don't ask me why or how but I knew. It's why I kept sending you to get me books. I had to watch your face every time you came back home, and I could see you were a little better off every time. A lot less crabby, for sure. Even tonight, when you came home, I knew you'd seen her."
"Mom..."
"Please hear me out. A man never wants to be set up by his mother, I know that. I'm not as crazy as you like to believe. I wouldn't be saying this now, except I have to know."
"Have to know what?" he asked, curious despite himself.
"Have you made her laugh, Alexander?" Her voice was gentle, and the way she asked it made him feel awful. He felt even more guilty for flirting with Denise so soon after he met her, all to help get over someone who obviously never cared about him.
"I love her laugh," he answered after thinking about it. "She's nervous a lot," he added.
"That she is!" his mother exclaimed. "I don't think she's dated anyone in all this time. I could be wrong on that, she'd never open up to an old biddy like me. I've dragged her all over that shop telling stories, and I'm sure she just humored me when she would chuckle. But I can honestly say I've never heard a genuine laugh out of her."
"I haven't either, Mom."
"You just said..."
"I know," he said, waving her off, lost in his own thoughts. Denise said something earlier when she told him to stop hitting on her. She said she wanted her heart to heal. His mother was right, then. Denise was a widow. "She was saying goodbye."
"What, dear?"
"I happened to see her at Lake Somerset tonight and she said she spent a day there once. She was trying to say goodbye or something."
"I see," was all his mother said.
"Now you have nothing to add!" he cried out.
"What can I say to this?" his mother asked, shrugging.
"Something!" he said, frustrated that he was looking for answers about Denise from his mother.
"I only have this. I know you. The fact that she's a widow will scare you like nothing else. After you sit on it for a while, you will think you cannot live up to this man she has held onto for so long. You should know, it won't be easy for her to let you in. She will be more scared than you can imagine. If you love her laugh and want to help her heal, you must be in all the way. Alexander, you cannot break this woman's heart! If you think for a second you can't be a part of her life, maybe it's a better idea if you leave now."
"Have some faith," Alex said, but her words were sinking in. "I thought you wanted me here."
"I do, but just because you're here doesn't mean you have to see her."
"The truth of it is, I don't think that's possible."
"The town isn't that small."
"That's not what I meant."
"That's what I hoped to hear, but remember what I said," she said as she stood up. "Goodnight, sweet boy."
"Goodnight, Mother." Alex sat at the kitchen table for a while longer, lost in thoughts of Denise and his mother's warnings. The truth was, he liked Denise. But, now that he knew her heartbreak was much bigger than he thought, he realized she was right in thinking they should just try to be friends. He was going through his own heartbreak, and he didn't think he could deal with one as big as Denise's.
Chapter Fourteen
As if he sensed her talking about him the night before, Denise's father was at her door on Friday afternoon. Since she spent the morning deep cleaning her house, she hadn't taken a shower and she apologized for her appearance.
"You can't even clean up for your old man?" he asked cheerily as he pulled her in for a big hug.
"How am I supposed to do that when I never know you're coming by," she said, laughing, happy to see him.
"Look at this," he said, whistling, and walking into the living room. "Looks mighty different since last I saw it." Her dad made his way around the house, checking everything out. She smiled at his presence. Her dad was tall but not as tall as Alex, she couldn't help thinking. She had inherited his dark hair and eyes, and the nervous shuffle she was witnessing now. She wondered how he'd been doing, since their phone calls were always short. It'd been six months since she saw him, and that was a quick pop-over for dinner before he met some friends for a fishing trip. It was good seeing him now, wearing one of his flannel shirts she always loved and the familiar work boots.
"Shelly talked me into buying some things for the house, and I'm so glad she did. I wanted to give it a homier vibe."
"I'd say you succeeded," he said, whistling again.
"Would you like to sit down?" she asked, pointing to the couch beside her. "I can make you something to eat."
"No, it's okay. I wanted to stop and say hi, but I'm just passing through. I'm meeting up with some of the guys later."
"Oh," she said, disappointed.
"Why weren't you at work? I stopped there first," he said, drumming his fingers nervously on her kitchen countertop.
"Vacation," she answered, then had a thought. "Let me take a shower and freshen up, then we can go to this diner I like. Your fishing buddies can wait, right?"
"Why not?" he asked after a moment's hesitation. "If that's what you want."
"It is. I've been thinking about you a lot, I've missed you."
"Yeah?" he asked, and it made her sad hearing the surprise in his voice. "That's great, kiddo. I've missed you, too."
"Great! Give me thirty minutes."
It turned out she needed forty-five. The new hairstyle she thought would make things easier on her took longer since she had to straighten and style it. An hour later, she escorted her dad into Claudine's Café, taking him there instead of the diner she often frequented for lunch. This was a special occasion, since she hadn't seen him in a while and didn't know the next time she would. After the initial awkwardness wore off because of that, they warmed up to each other and had an enjoyable time. They remembered happier times, telling stories from when she was a kid, both careful not to mention Benny. Before they realized it, it was already after three, with lots of customers having come and gone. She apologized for having kept him so long from his friends.
"I'll tell you a secret, kiddo," he said with a blushing smile. "I didn't have plans this weekend. I wanted to see you, so I came."
"Dad!" she exclaimed. "You could've told me."
"I know, but..." he said, shrugging, not finishing his sentence.
"If I didn't ask you to lunch, you were going to go back home? A hundred miles away!"
"It w
ould've been worth it to see you."
"Dad!" she said again, smiling. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too. If we stay here any longer, we'll have to order dinner," he laughed.
"That's okay. Tell me how you've been lately. The truth."
"Work is good. We're building a house you would've loved when you were a kid."
"Those were good days." She smiled fondly, remembering visits to his construction sites when she was growing up. "I don't think any house could be as wonderful as the one you and your crew built for me and Benny," she said, chuckling at the startled look on her father's face. "What?"
"I didn't think I'd hear that name again, not from you."
"I know. You couldn't have visited me at a better time, Dad, I'll tell you that. I sort of had a mental collapse the other night, sorry you missed it," she said laughingly. "I want to talk about Benny instead of pushing all my emotions down and crying myself to sleep every night."
"I'm sorry you've been through that, my girl," he said sadly.
"It's okay. I mean, it's not okay, and I'm sorry I never let you in. You tried to talk about it in the beginning with me, and if anyone would've understood what I was going through, it was you. You were always there for me, even after Mom died. We always talked about her, and you were always sure to tell me stories and... anyway, I'm sorry I didn't learn from your example."
"We all grieve in our own ways. You know, I see your old girlfriends around now and again. They always ask about you."
"I miss them so much! I've picked up the phone so many times to call and make plans but always stopped myself. I didn't want them to see me so grief stricken as I was, and now I'm not the same person they remember. They would only feel sorry for me, I'm sure."
"Don't talk crazy. You had an excellent group of friends. I always liked them, and I know they still care about you. When they ask about you, there's only concern, not pity."
"Dad, I just ran away, didn't I? I still can't believe I did that. Crazy, really." She took a deep breath, feeling nervous. "I'm sorry I sold the house you built for us. It meant something to all of us, I know."
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