Doubts & Desires

by Thea Dawson

  Jack sighed. “This is what I mean. You can’t sue me for not buying you out simply because you decided to leave town. You don’t understand the business side of these things, babe.”

  A dart of fear went through her. She’d been planning on contacting a lawyer once the Riverfront was up and running, but what if Jack was right? She actually didn’t know what her rights were in this situation. Trying to hide her panic, she said, “What, you think I was going to stay and watch you screw the staff—literally?”

  Jack’s voice dropped. “I’m sorry, Merilee. I messed up royally. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He paused as if he was having trouble speaking. “I miss you, babe,” he said hoarsely. “Come home and let’s talk this through.”

  “I am home,” she said, but she knew she didn’t sound convincing. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Jack or go back to Seattle, but she was struck afresh by the thought that the Riverfront was her responsibility alone. Sure, Adam was helping, and she could pay people like Celia as she needed them, but there really wasn’t anyone else who could help her shoulder the burden of the business, who could make decisions or take action on her behalf. It was all up to her.

  “How about I drive down there early this week?”

  A different kind of panic flooded through her at the thought of actually seeing Jack again. He had a strange way of making her see things in a different light, especially in person, and she didn’t trust herself not to capitulate to anything he wanted. “Jack, no, I do not want—”

  The café door swung open and Celia backed in, pulling a stroller with her two younger kids in it. She turned and gave Merilee a smile.

  Merilee waved back in relief. “I do not want you coming here, Jack. I need to go. Goodbye.”

  She hung up, her hands shaking. Her earlier mood from the morning had evaporated. She faked a bright smile and went to greet Celia. “I’m so glad to see you. I was just going over the menus. I made a couple of tiny changes, nothing big.”

  “Great!” Celia parked the stroller. “I’ll set up the order with the printer first thing tomorrow. And we’ve got the ads placed to run in the paper all week. Did you get the banner?”

  Merilee nodded quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

  ***

  Adam was just screwing in the last shelf when Merilee hurried into the kitchen.

  He waved at his handiwork. “What do you think? You know, you could get more storage out of this if I put in some hooks—”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. Where did I put the banner? C’mon, why don’t you meet Celia?” She swiped the long tube with the banner in it, then gave a perfunctory glance at the shelves. “The shelves look amazing. Thank you so much.”

  Adam shook his head and smiled at her manic energy, and pushed himself to his feet.

  He shook hands with Celia while Merilee unrolled the banner, then they all admired it. Merilee and Celia had designed it with the idea that it would hang over the front entrance on opening day.

  “Will you be able to hang it?” asked Celia.

  “We’ll come up with something,” Adam said confidently. “Say, Celia, could I get your card? I’m trying to set up a gelato business. Strikes me that I could use a logo, and you did a nice job with this one.” He nodded at the banner.

  “Sure.” Celia handed over a card with a smile. “Give me a call or send me an email. We can set up a time to talk about what you’re looking for.”

  Adam nodded his thanks and put the card in his pocket, catching an odd look from Merilee as he did so.

  “Okay, gotta run,” Celia said. “I have to pick up my oldest from a friend’s house. Merilee, I’ll put in the order for those menus. They should be ready in a couple of days, well before your opening. Adam, it was lovely meeting you.”

  “And you. I’ll call you soon,” he promised. He held the door open for her as she pushed the stroller out, and gave her a wave as she turned to walk down the street. When he turned back, Merilee was looking at him with a frown.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “What did you mean, you’re starting a gelato business? Don’t you already have one?”

  “Well, I have one, but it’s a new thing. My dad tried selling ice cream back in the eighties, but it didn’t really work out. I think I’ve got a better business model, though—”

  “How many customers do you have?” she asked sharply.

  He looked at her, surprised. Why did it matter to her? “Including you? One,” he admitted. “But I’m meeting Bob at the Stovepipe on the 15th—”

  “So basically, you’re not established at all?” she asked. “How do I know you’ll be able to make your deliveries? I should have asked for references, shouldn’t I?”

  He looked at her quizzically. “Why would you think I wouldn’t be able to deliver your gelato? I just told you, you’re my only customer. Stands to reason I’m going to take care of you.” He winked and smiled again, but she was clearly not in the mood for flirting.

  “Is that why you’re being so nice to me?” she asked, that manic energy practically sparking off her.

  He frowned again, starting to get annoyed. “You think last night was all about good customer relations? What the hell, Merilee? What happened—Wait, you don’t think I was making a pass at Celia or anything, do you? I swear, I really do want a logo—”

  “No, nothing like that.” For a moment, Merilee seemed to get ahold of herself. “I’m sorry. I’m just … I’m getting nervous again.” She paced the floor, taking quick, anxious steps.

  “Hey, let’s not have that again.” Adam caught her in his arms and pulled her close in an effort to soothe her. “It’s going to be okay. What set you off? The menus look great—”

  “No.” He could feel the tension radiating off her in waves. “What if I can’t do this?”

  Adam pulled her closer and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “Of course you can do this. Why don’t you have more faith in yourself?”

  Merilee continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I mean, there’s still so much to do, and that idiot electrician still hasn’t shown up—”

  “I told you, I’ll do the lights. I brought the ladder. I can hang them now.”

  “That’s not the point!” she snapped, stepping away from him and wringing her hands. “I think I’d better wait for the electrician. If you fell or got electrocuted or something…”

  “Yeah … okay. I understand,” Adam replied, though he didn’t.

  Merilee turned to him, but didn’t meet his eyes. “And I appreciate you helping, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to do things like hang the banner. It’s really not your job.”

  The dismissive tone in her voice cut him more deeply than he would have admitted. He stared at her a moment, trying to find the words that would reassure her, unable to understand where the distance between them had come from, or how it had gotten so wide. “Merilee, what happened? A few minutes ago everything was fine … wasn’t it?”

  “Yes … no. I don’t know! I think—” she stopped and looked at him, this time meeting his gaze. “I’m afraid I’m going to start relying on you too much. I feel like I need to do this by myself.”

  Adam blinked, his heart falling somewhere to the level of his heavy-duty workboots. After last night and this morning, he’d already started to think of them as a team, but she clearly wasn’t ready for that. And fair enough, maybe—she’d only known him for a few days.

  “Maybe I should just get out of your hair for a little while, then,” he said quietly. “Give you some time. I’ll … I’ll be seeing you around.”

  She made no move to stop him as he gathered up his jacket and toolkit. The door jingled merrily in contrast to the awkward silence that had fallen over them as he pulled it open. He glanced back at her. “Doing it on your own isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, Merilee. Call me if you need anything.”

  He stepped out onto the sidewalk, letting the door swing shu
t behind him.

  Chapter Eight

  Monday, for the first time since she’d signed the lease, Merilee didn’t go to the café first thing in the morning. She’d gotten nothing done after Adam had left the day before. After moping around the quiet café for a while, she’d simply gone home, made herself a simple dinner, and passed out, exhausted from the highs and lows of the previous 24 hours.

  When she’d woken up, feeling lethargic and headachy, she’d remembered to call Scotty’s Auto Shop and had been promised an estimate for the damage by the afternoon. She’d called the insurance company, then a car rental company and a taxi to take her to the shop. Yesterday, Adam had promised to drive her anywhere she needed, but she was too embarrassed at the way she’d all but kicked him out yesterday to think of asking him for another favor.

  She knew she needed to call him, but she wasn’t sure how to say what she needed to say. She hadn’t figured out how to articulate it even to herself. She was petrified of running the café on her own, but she was equally frightened of relying on someone the way she’d relied on Jack. With some distance, she was beginning to see what an unhealthy relationship it had been, with Jack always calling the shots, able to twist her people-pleasing nature to his advantage.

  In her heart, she knew Adam was different—he’d done more thoughtful things for her in the few days she’d known him than Jack had in five years—but she was still wary. And now she was embarrassed at how she’d treated him.

  Finally, after lunch, she dragged herself over to the Riverfront and unlocked the door. Except for the lights, it was mostly done. Thanks to Adam, the back wall had been painted and the kitchen shelves set up. The kitchen was clean and stocked with dishes. The espresso machine was working. Coffee had been delivered, food would be coming in a few days, and Celia was going to bring the printed menus at the end of the week. Everything was under control.

  Feeling strangely purposeless, she sat down at one of the tables and stared out at the river.

  She was jarred out of her reverie by a loud knock at the back door, the one that led from the kitchen to a side street. Curious, she went to the kitchen and opened it. Her heart leapt at the sight of Adam, holding a large plastic tub under one arm.

  “I have your gelato delivery,” he said.

  “Come in,” she said quietly. “Adam, I’d like to talk to you.”

  “First things first. I don’t want this to melt.” He walked briskly past her and opened the freezer, sliding the tub inside. “I’ve got five more tubs, plus the dipping cabinet. I’m going to have to bring that in on a dolly through here. I don’t know that it’s going to fit through the front door.”

  “Adam—”

  He stopped and met her eyes for the first time since she’d opened the door. “Merilee, let me get this done. And then …” he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Yes, I agree we should talk. But ice cream first.”

  He walked out the door again and her heart sank. She couldn’t blame him if he thought she was too crazy, too needy, too… whatever. “Can I help?” she called after him.

  He was pulling another tub out of the back of his van. “Nah, I got it. I know you’re busy. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay.” She crept quietly back to the front, not sure what to do with herself. She suddenly remembered Michael’s contract. That, at least, was something to focus on. She pulled her laptop out of her tote bag and busied herself looking it over, until she heard the front door chimes ring. Wondering if Adam had decided to bring the freezer in around the front after all, she looked up …

  … To see Jack walking into her café.

  “Hey, babe.” He took a few steps in, looking less sure of himself than usual.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, hastily closing the laptop.

  “Came to see if we could talk things over.”

  “That’s a long drive just to talk.” She stood up so as to be closer to eye level with him.

  “I tried calling, remember? But you hung up on me. Listen, I want to apologize. I know I was out of line with Shauna, and I swear it will never happen again. You mean the world to me, Merilee. I want us to be partners again—in every sense of the word.”

  She wavered. He looked so sad, so truly sorry, that for a moment she almost believed him. “I’ve left, Jack,” she said carefully. “I’m not going back to Seattle. I’m staying here and opening the Riverfront.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Merilee,” Jack said gently. “You don’t even know anyone here, and let’s face it, you don’t have that great a track record for doing things on your own.” He took another step closer. “We need each other.”

  Merilee’s heart sank. He had hit on her deepest insecurity—that the coffee shop, like so many of her other efforts, would fail.

  Jack went on. “You’re great with people, Merilee. I totally give you that. You were the soul of Beans and a huge part of its success. People came in because of you. But you know as well as I do that running a successful business is so much more. There’s the bookkeeping and dealing with vendors and maintenance and hiring staff. And let’s face it, those things were not your strong points.”

  Merilee turned to stare out the window to the river below. It had rained heavily the night before, and the water rushed past faster and fuller than usual. It was true: she loved the people part of running a café, but she was less experienced with the business part of it. In fact, it intimidated the hell out of her. For a moment, she let her gaze slip down the river into the distance and imagined herself floating down with it, away from the business and all the things she didn’t understand, the boring details, the things she would have to learn if The Riverfront was going to succeed.

  Her back was still turned to Jack, but she was aware of him stepping closer to her.

  “Come on, baby,” he said quietly. “Come back home, and help me with Beans again.”

  “I have a lease here,” she replied, but the words felt desperate, as if she were clinging to a straw. She could hear low, growly tears in her voice, like thunder heralding rain.

  “Leases can be broken.” Jack’s voice was full of confidence. “I know a good lawyer. I’ll help you liquidate this place. In fact, some of this equipment we could use at Beans, you wouldn’t even have to get rid of it. Why don’t you give me a list of the vendors you’ve placed orders with, and I’ll start working on canceling them.”

  Merilee continued to stare at the water. It seemed ominous now, crashing and swirling against the stone banks. The thought of running the café by herself seemed overwhelming. The swirling waters seemed to have carried away the last of her confidence, leaving her feeling bedraggled and exhausted. It was a crazy amount of work for one person, and she didn’t even have real experience with most of it; Jack had always let her do what she liked best—what she was good at. He’d taken on the boring stuff himself, and she hadn’t had to worry about any of it.

  Jack put his hands on her shoulders and stroked them. “Come on, babe. Say you’ll come home.”

  Merilee frowned at the word home. She thought about the town—Eva, the friendly real estate agent who had introduced her to so many people; Celia, her encouraging, creative graphic designer; Michael, who had been so excited to see his paintings on her walls… and Adam.

  Adam, who was relying on her to buy his gelato. Adam, who had never put her down or belittled her or teased her, even at her clumsiest and most clueless.

  Adam, who was even now unloading the dipping cabinet into the kitchen… and based on the sudden silence, probably listening to everything she was saying.

  A ray of sunshine pierced the clouds, reflecting a bright beam of light off the churning river. Merilee blinked.

  She shook her head, clearing away the thoughts that had held her down for so long.

  “Jack, I think…” She turned around to face him, shrugging his hands off as she did so, “I think this is my home now. Silverweed Falls. Not Seattle.”

 
; Jack just shook his head, still smiling. “Don’t be stupid, Merilee—”

  “Yeah, here’s the thing, Jack,” she cut him off, her voice growing stronger with every word, “If I need to, I can hire people to help me with the bookkeeping or with maintenance or with managing the staff. I don’t need to be partners with someone who says I’m too stupid to run a coffee shop.”

  “I didn’t call you stupid, I just mean that you’re behaving stupidly—” Jack’s voice was getting louder.

  “As stupidly as you when you had sex with a waitress in our restaurant?”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Merilee, I’ve apologized again and again for that. It’s time we put it behind us.”

  Merilee gave him a broad smile. “And on that we can agree. It’s time to put everything behind us. Time for you to go back to Seattle, and for me to sink or swim here. Good-bye, Jack.”

  ***

  In the kitchen, Adam let out a long-held breath.

  He wasn’t an eavesdropper by nature. He’d become aware of voices in the front as he was propping open the back door and laying a couple of sheets of plywood over the curb. But when he’d heard Jack’s name as he was pulling the loaded dolly across the threshold, his ears had perked up and he’d frozen in place, his hand still holding onto the handle.

  It had sounded for a moment as if Merilee were actually considering going back to Seattle with that jerk, and the thought was like a punch in the gut. He wouldn’t have minded walking into the front and punching that jerk in the nose—but getting arrested wouldn’t help matters, and might just drive Merilee straight back into Jack’s arms once and for all.

  When he heard her say good-bye, he closed his eyes and said a quick prayer of thanks. It wasn’t about the standing gelato order; it was about Merilee, and the fact that she now considered Silverweed Falls her home.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Merilee!” Jack’s voice was louder now. “I need you back in Seattle. Give up this insane venture before you lose any more money!”