by Lisa Jordan
“When can I see her?”
What if she didn’t let him see her? Would he refuse to get tested? She couldn’t risk it. Josie let go of his hands and glanced at the large clock above the fireplace. She was so late. Would Hannah still be awake? How would she even begin to explain Nick to her? Maybe the best way would be to have Hannah meet Nick, explain why he was there and then let the two of them get to know each other with her nearby. “Let me lock up, and we can head to my house now.”
“She’s home alone?”
The accusation in his voice scored a direct hit. Did he think she was that irresponsible?
“No, Nonno—my grandfather—lives with us. Usually I only work until noon, but worked this afternoon to catch up from being away this morning.”
“Does she know about me?” The uncertainty in his voice nearly melted her anger.
She sighed and then shook her head. “Not really. I mean, I haven’t kept you a huge secret or anything, but she knows you as an ex-high school boyfriend. She’s seen yearbook pictures. That’s about it.”
“And my mom never contacted you?”
“Not once.”
“I’m sorry.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Sorry can’t erase the last ten years.”
“Regardless of what you think of me, if I had known, I wouldn’t have just left you to face everything alone.”
“Well, we can’t exactly turn back time, can we? So I guess we’ll never know. You have a choice now. Just don’t screw it up.”
Josie flicked off the dining room lights, leaving on a row above the front counter edged against the large storefront window. “I’m going through the kitchen and out the back door. I’ll meet you out front and then you can follow me home.”
“Fine.”
As soon as he headed outside, Josie flipped the deadbolt into place, hurried through the kitchen, grabbed her purse off her desk and snatched her coat off the chair. She slammed through the back door.
Her fingers shook so badly that she dropped her keys in the snow slumped against the back of the building. She fished them out with bare fingers and leaned against the door, staring at the night sky as she pulled in large gulps of frosty air. She locked the door and trudged through the snow to her car.
Five minutes later, Josie pulled onto Songbird Lane and into her driveway with Nick’s headlights in her rearview mirror.
“You can do this. For Hannah.” Taking a deep breath, she clenched the steering wheel. With a final sigh, she grabbed her purse off the passenger seat and climbed out, slamming the door behind her.
Nick’s shoulders hunched close to his ears as he blew into his bare hands. “Feels like January instead of March.”
They were going to discuss the weather? Seriously?
His eyes shifted to her house, his lips turning upward. “It’s something out of a Disney movie.”
Shrubs of various shapes and sizes clustered against the front and around the sides of the stone cottage. Brittle limbs sighed over a chipped picket fence as if they carried the weight of winter. Cleared cobblestones meandered in a haphazard path to the red front door.
“Wait until you see the fairy door knocker. Hannah fell in love with it when we moved here.” Maybe small talk would help her forget about the pain eroding her heart. Doubtful.
“When was that?”
“Once I graduated from college—about five years ago or so.” Josie shoved her hands in her pockets and started up the walk. “She was in her Disney princesses phase.”
She opened the door, stepped inside then moved out of the way so he could enter. A small candlestick lamp on the semicircle foyer table by the front door lit the entryway. Shadows stretched across the wood floor that led into the living room. Josie dropped her purse on the table, shrugged off her coat and hung it in an open closet. She didn’t offer to take Nick’s. He wouldn’t be staying long.
She stepped into the bathroom around the corner from the front door and washed her hands. Returning to the hall, she nodded toward the bathroom. “Please wash your hands. We have to be really careful about germs.”
Without saying a word, Nick moved past her and did as she asked. She marched into the large living room without checking to see if he followed.
She passed by the taupe leather couch with its aqua-and-chocolate pillows and crocheted afghan and crossed to the matching recliner to kiss her grandfather’s cheek. He rested with his eyes closed and a suspense novel open on his chest. The soft glow of the tall candlestick lamp behind his chair bathed his face, filling in the lines and wrinkles of life’s experiences. “Nonno, I’m home.”
Her grandfather started, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “Cara, mi avete spaventato. You startled me.” His eyes shifted over her shoulder.
“So sorry. I have a guest.” She waved her hand toward Nick.
“A guest, you say.” Her grandfather lowered his footrest and eased himself out of the chair. He straightened his brown knitted vest over his blue plaid shirt.
Josie placed a hand on her grandfather’s shoulder. “Nonno, meet Nick Brennan.”
“Nick, this is my nonno, I mean my grandfather, Vincenzo Peretti.”
“A pleasure, sir.” Nick extended a hand.
“Nick.” Nonno’s voice trailed off and his lips thinned as his eyes narrowed. “Are you…?” He shot a look at Josie.
She nodded, biting the inside of her lip. “Yes, he’s Hannah’s father.”
Nonno pulled his shoulders back, stepped toward Nick and pointed a finger at him. “You have some nerve. What kind of man puts an innocent girl in a family way and then disappears?”
Josie placed a hand on his chest. “Nonno, not now.”
Nick held up a hand. “Sir, you have every right to be angry. I’m sure I would be, too, in your place. In my defense, I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know? Didn’t know? Why, that’s preposterous. I remember—”
“Nonno, we’ll talk later.” She linked her arm through his and pressed a kiss to his temple.
Nonno glared at Nick. Josie had to give him credit for not backing down. Her grandfather was the first to break eye contact. Muttering in Italian, he returned to his recliner and picked up his book, pretending to read.
Josie removed the novel from his hands, turned it right side up and smiled. “Ti amo.”
“Ti amo, cara.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Where’s Hannah?”
“She’s asleep. I checked on her about half an hour ago.”
“Grazie.”
Josie motioned for Nick to follow her and headed up the stairs separating the living room from the dining room. Putting her finger to her lips, Josie pushed her daughter’s bedroom door open and tiptoed to Hannah’s bed where she lay curled in a ball, one arm clutching Duck, her stuffed purple alligator that had seen better days.
Josie looked over her shoulder to where Nick stood rooted to the threshold. His eyes didn’t waver from the bed. His brows furrowed and then a look she couldn’t interpret crossed over his face.
“What’s wrong?” Josie’s heart fluttered. He was probably
in shock about Hannah’s baldness.
“She’s beautiful.”
Chapter Three
After Nick left, Josie managed to fall asleep for about three hours before her alarm should have gone off. Except she had forgotten to set her alarm.
Josie arrived at Cuppa Josie’s late and found the back door frozen shut again. She and Hannah traipsed around to the front door.
The wind whipped the beige-and-blue-striped canopy over the smoky glass door with the steaming cup etched in white.
Josie balanced a box of tulips in order to jiggle the key in the ancient front door lock, making a mental note to salt the sidewalk.
Hannah’s narrow shoulders hunched against the blustery weather. “Hurry up, Mom. It’s so cold.”
“Really? And here I was taking my time so I could work on my tan.” Josie closed her eyes, flung out her free arm
and raised her face to the sky.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” The biting air rouged Hannah’s cheeks and the tip of her upturned nose, adding a blush of color to her skin.
“Hold these, please.” Josie handed the box of tulips to Hannah, tugged her daughter’s hat down over her forehead and then rewrapped the purple-and-white-striped scarf around her neck.
“Need a hand?”
She turned to see Nick shutting the door to a shiny black Ford Ranger and stepping onto the sidewalk.
What was he doing here? They weren’t supposed to meet until later. She hadn’t talked to Hannah yet.
She gave him a tight smile and moved Hannah in front of her. “Thanks, but I got it.”
Come on, Lord, cut a girl a break here.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Was he still there? Watching them? She snuck a peek over her shoulder.
Blowing into cupped hands, he stood about four feet behind them, eyes focused on them.
Did he have to watch her every move?
The key turned. Josie’s exhaled breath puffed against the glass as she opened the door.
Josie guided Hannah inside and pushed the door closed, but Nick shot forward and grabbed the handle. “Is it too early to come in?”
Josie darted a look between Hannah and him. Hannah gave her a curious look.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can wait in my truck.” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder toward the street. He took a step back.
She paused. “No, don’t do that. Come in. I’ll have the coffee going in a few minutes.” She flicked on the interior light and flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN.
She handed him the Shelby Lake Gazette and gestured toward the high-backed stools hugging the counter. “Grab a chair. Coffee will be ready shortly.”
With no time for introductions, she and Hannah wove their way around the square tables, shed their coats in her office and then washed their hands. Hannah traded her winter hat for a pink checked newsboy cap and tugged it sideways on her head. She pulled her iPod and a book from her backpack. Grabbing a banana out of the hanging basket near the sink, she perched on a stool next to the stainless-steel counter where Josie rolled out her piecrusts.
Within minutes of starting the coffee, the mingling scents of the different blends breathed life into Josie and flowed through her as necessarily as her own blood. Even though she couldn’t drink coffee, she craved the smell.
The front door jangled.
Oh, no. Not yet. She wasn’t ready for customers—the coffee hadn’t finished brewing. The pastry case wore empty shelves. The candles hadn’t been lit. The fireplace lay cold.
Why, oh, why hadn’t she set her cell phone to go off, too?
Agnes pushed through the swinging kitchen door. “Sugar Pie, so sorry I’m late. I had no electricity and had to go to Mama’s to dry my hair.” She hung up her coat and fluffed snowflakes off her curls. “Back door stuck again? I nearly slid on my tush coming around to the front.”
Josie pointed to Agnes’s feet. “Wear something a little more sensible than those stiletto boots.”
Agnes struck a model pose. “But they make my legs look long and lean. Never know when Mr. Right is going to come along.”
“Didn’t you get your fill of marriage after your ex left you for that perky pop star wannabe?” Josie twisted her hair and clipped it in a messy updo, pulling down a few loose curls to frame her face.
Agnes made a face. “What’s up with Mr. Yummy at the counter out there? Picking up strays again?”
Josie glanced at Hannah and gave Agnes a slight shake of her head.
Agnes’s eyebrows notched into a V and then her eyes widened as her mouth puckered into an O.
Josie nodded, appreciating her friend’s understanding. “At least we baked last night. Mind filling the pastry case while I get the store ready?”
“Not at all.” Agnes changed her boots into more sensible shoes, then washed and dried her hands. She dropped a kiss on Hannah’s temple, leaving behind a lipstick imprint. “How are you, darlin’?”
Hannah smiled and fingered one of Agnes’s large gold hoops. “Hey, Aggie. Love your earrings. Someday I’ll be allowed to get my ears pierced.”
Josie pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and sagged against the counter. “Oh, the perils of being a kid.”
Hannah shot her a look that said she was not amused. Josie shrugged and bit the inside of her lip.
“Sugar Pie, you have the rest of your life to play grown-up. Don’t you be rushing anything now. You hear me?” Agnes grabbed two blue aprons and tossed one to Josie. “And don’t be giving your mama a big to-do about it. She’s doing right by making you wait.”
“Seriously, I just don’t see what the big deal is about getting my ears pierced.”
Josie tied the apron around her waist and smoothed the front. “The big deal is we agreed you could get them done when you turn ten. Keep griping about it and I’ll make you wait until you’re sixteen.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” Josie raised an eyebrow at her daughter.
“So not fair. Especially for a sick kid.” Hannah returned to her book.
Josie tugged on one of the earbuds to snag her daughter’s attention. “Don’t play that card with me, kiddo. I mean it.”
“Sorry.” Hannah leaned against Josie.
Josie swallowed the apple-size lump in her throat. Her eyes connected with Agnes’s, which seemed overly bright.
Less than ten minutes later, Josie carried full pots of today’s special blends—Almond Toffee Crunch and Hazelnut Cream—and placed them on the coffee bar to the left of the register. She turned to head back into the kitchen for the regular and decaf, but paused and cocked her head.
What was that scraping sound?
She threaded her way around the tables to the front window. Outside the shop, Nick had cleared the ice. And now he tossed handfuls of ice melter on the sidewalk.
With trying to get the shop ready, she had forgotten about the sidewalks. Something deep shimmied to the surface, filling her with warmth at his thoughtfulness.
As a teenager, he had always been willing to lend a hand.
He looked up and lifted his hand in greeting.
He still had a really great smile. Not that she paid attention to him specifically or anything. Working with the public, a girl noticed these things.
She turned away, and nearly tripped over a chair. A quick peek over her shoulder showed he had indeed seen her klutzy move. His grin sent heat across her cheeks.
Way to go, Josie.
A few minutes later, the door opened. Nick returned the bucket of ice melter and shovel behind the front door where he had found them.
Josie plated a chocolate chip muffin and warmed it in the microwave. She grabbed a stout-bellied glass mug off the shelf behind the register and then carried them to the front counter where Nick had shrugged out of his bomber jacket. Water droplets dampened his hair. The tips of his ears were reddened from the cold. Dressed in a light blue T-shirt, an unbuttoned blue-and-white-striped dress shirt, loose fitting jeans and a pair of beat-up Converses on his feet, he looked more like a college student than a professor.
She set the mug on the counter and pointed to the coffee bar, hating the way her fingers trembled. She clenched them into fists, hoping he didn’t notice. “Help yourself to coffee. Today’s specials are Almond Toffee Crunch and Hazelnut Cream.”
“Thanks.” He smiled and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.
Josie shook her head. “On the house. You didn’t need to clean my walk.”
He turned sideways, resting one elbow on the back of the chair and another on the spread newspaper. “Your friend almost slipped. And you were busy.”
“I would’ve gotten to it.” She winced at the defensive tone in her voice.
He held up a hand. “Hey, that wasn’t a criticism.”
“Sorry. Thanks.” She shut her mou
th before finishing off a course of foot-in-mouth. She moved to the fireplace and flipped the switch. Flames came to life and tangoed across the fake logs. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend to hear crackles and smell burning pine.
Nick slid off the stool and wrapped long fingers around the mug. “Wasn’t a problem. Really.”
For him, maybe. He wasn’t the irresponsible one who couldn’t even get out of bed on time.
“Do you have time for coffee? To talk?”
She glanced at the clock. “Not now. Besides, I don’t drink coffee.”
He headed to the coffee bar and filled his mug. “What kind of barista owns a coffeehouse, but doesn’t drink coffee?”
She dashed behind the counter and grabbed the candle lighter. “The kind who’s allergic to caffeine.”
“Then why a coffeehouse?”
“Coffee and food bring people together.” She lit the votive candles nestled in a bed of coffee beans on each table.
He nodded toward the word wall next to the fireplace. “What’s this? Saw it when I came in.”
She shrugged. Would he think she was silly? Did she care? “A community word wall. Each month I put up miscellaneous words and challenge customers to create something unique. At the end of the month, they’re voted on and the winner receives a free drink.”
“Great way to inspire people to write.”
Spoken like a true English professor.
Nick moved past her to get his coffee.
She stuck the candle lighter in her front pocket and grabbed the box of tulips still on the edge of the counter. She replaced the red-and-pink Valentine arrangements on the window counter and near the cash register with the potted tulips.
The front door jangled. Two women and a man in business attire entered, brushing snowflakes off the shoulders of their overcoats. Within minutes, a steady stream of customers filed through the café, keeping her busy behind the counter. The whirring of the espresso machine competed with the rustling of the morning newspapers, cell phone ring tones and chatter.
Emmett Browne, one of her loyal customers and true genius with a camera, banged on the counter with his hand-carved cane. “Josie, where’s the paper? I come in here every morning, sit in the same spot to do the morning crossword, and today of all days, you open late and the paper is missing. What is this world coming to?” His salt-and-pepper eyebrows knitted together. His sausage fingers gripped the curve of his cane. Tufts of white hair sprouted beneath his tweed fedora.