by Kelly, Sofie
“Hi, guys,” she said, giving Maggie her tea and pouring coffee for Roma without setting down the tray she’d carried everything over on. “What can I get for you?”
“I’ll have what they’re having,” Maggie said, tipping her head toward the last half of the sandwich on my plate.
“It smells wonderful,” Roma said. “Me too.”
“It’ll just be a couple of minutes,” Claire said. She topped up my cup and Andrew’s. I saw her hold up two fingers to Eric as she went back to the kitchen.
“So what are you doing in Mayville Heights?” Maggie asked, dropping a tea bag into the little stoneware pot and pouring in the hot water. “Are you here for business or is this a vacation?” Subtlety was not one of Maggie’s strengths.
“I came to win Kathleen back,” Andrew said. Then he tipped his head to one side and gave me a sweet—and very phony—smile across the table.
Beside me Roma cleared her throat and picked up her coffee. Since Maggie wasn’t the type of person to beat around the bush, Andrew’s directness didn’t faze her. “So what took you so long?” she asked.
I blew out a breath. “Mags,” I said softly. I should have guessed she’d ask a question like that.
Andrew was already shaking his head. “It’s okay, Kathleen,” he said. “I don’t mind answering your friend’s questions.” He propped his elbow on the back of the chair so he was turned partly toward Maggie. “You know about the fishing trip.”
She nodded, reaching for her cup to pour the tea.
“At first I was still married. It took a while to have the whole thing annulled.”
“And after that?”
He played with his fork. “After that I was mad.”
“At Kathleen,” Maggie said. She took a sip of her tea and watched him over the top of the cup.
“Yes.”
“She’s not the one who married a waitress from a fifties diner,” Maggie said, her blue eyes locked on his face.
He blushed, but he didn’t look away. “No, she wasn’t,” he said. “Look, I know I’m the one who messed up. I’m not saying I had a right to be mad because Kathleen left Boston. I’m just saying that I was.”
“Okay, I can understand that,” Maggie said.
Claire returned then with Roma’s and Maggie’s breakfast orders and more hot coffee. Once she’d taken a couple of bites of her sandwich, Maggie turned her attention back to Andrew.
“So, when did you stop being angry? I’m assuming that you’re not anymore.”
He smiled at me across the table, a genuine smile this time. I remembered when that look used to make my heart race and, truth be told, it was thumping just a beat or two faster now.
“No, I’m not angry anymore,” he said, letting his gaze slide off my face and back to Maggie.
Was I imagining that he did it with just a bit of reluctance?
“I stopped being mad the first time I saw her again.”
“The first time you saw me again was less than twelve hours ago,” I said. I’d thought he was going to say it was when we’d talked on the phone several months ago.
Andrew’s face flushed.
“You saw Kathleen when she was back in Boston this summer,” Roma said.
He exhaled slowly before he answered. “Yes.”
“When?” I asked.
He ducked his head. “You were playing football in the park with Ethan and Sara. Your mother and father were there, too.”
And my best friend in Boston, Lise.
I remembered that day. Lise had taken a photo of the five of us and surprised me with it, in a small frame, the day I’d flown back to Mayville Heights. I kept it on my desk at the library. It was one of my favorite photographs of my crazy family.
“Why didn’t you come say hello?” I asked, adding more sugar to my coffee.
He made a face. “Oh yeah, that would have been a good idea. Walk over and say, how the heck have you been, after a year and a half, with your whole family standing there.”
I nodded and smiled, picturing in my mind what might have happened if he’d just walked up to us in the park that day. “He’s right about that.”
Heaven knows what the twins would have done, not to mention my mother. She’d always thought Andrew was good for me, but when it came to taking sides she was one hundred percent on mine.
He leaned back in the chair so he was facing all three of us. “Short version of a long story—when I saw Kathleen in the park it showed me just how much I’d screwed up, and just how much I’d lost. So I moved my schedule around and decided I’d come here in person and try to win her back.”
“What if she doesn’t want you back?” Maggie asked. She looked around for Claire and when she caught the waitress’s eye pointed at the little stainless-steel water pot.
“I have two weeks before I have to deal with that,” Andrew said. “I plan to spend those two weeks trying to show Kathleen that I’ve changed.”
Maggie looked at me.
“I already told Andrew to go back to Boston.”
He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”
Claire appeared at the table with a carafe of hot water for Maggie’s tea. As she stirred the tea, Maggie began asking Andrew about his life in Boston. Roma took the opportunity to lean over to me. “He’s determined,” she said softly.
“That he is,” I whispered. “I’m not sure what to do.”
She gave a small shrug. “Why do you have to do anything?”
I thought about it for a moment. Maybe I didn’t. I hadn’t led Andrew on or given him any reason to think he could win me back like I was a big plush dog at the county fair. I couldn’t stop him from trying, though. Marcus had told me once that I liked to control things. Maybe this time I needed to take my hands off the steering wheel and see what happened.
Thinking about Marcus, I automatically looked out the window, hoping I’d see him headed up the sidewalk for a cup of take-out coffee and one of Eric’s famous cinnamon rolls. All I saw was Burtis Chapman driving by in his truck.
Seeing Burtis made me think about Lita. I’d seen Everett’s secretary and Burtis in the library parking lot a few days ago, and I now had a suspicion that the two of them might be a couple. I wasn’t sure if they’d seen me because I’d done a swan dive onto the front seat of my truck when I caught sight of them standing close together in what looked like a very private moment. I felt a little embarrassed about that. Burtis and Lita were adults, and there was no reason for them not to see each other. If they were a couple, though, how had they managed to keep it from the entire town? Again, none of my business. I had library business with Lita. That was all.
Roma was studying my face. “Have you talked to Marcus yet?” she asked. There was concern in her dark brown eyes.
“Maggie told you what happened.” I shifted again in my chair and rubbed my shoulder.
“Last night.” She paused as though she was weighing her words before she committed to them. “Kathleen, Marcus is an intense man and being a police officer isn’t just what he does; it’s part of who he is. But he does care about you. I’m certain about that. You’ll work it out.”
I thought about the rocking chair that Marcus had to have spent hours fixing for me. I thought about the one and only time we’d kissed. “I hope so,” I said.
I reached for my mug, drank the last of my coffee and glanced at my watch. It was time to head to the library.
Roma had seen me check the time. “I have to get going as well,” she said. Across the table Maggie and Andrew were still deep in conversation.
“Thank you for coming,” I said, turning sideways in my chair so I was facing her. The meeting wasn’t just by chance. I’d called Roma and Maggie and asked them to meet us at the café.
“You’re welcome. You’d do the same for me.” She smiled and put her napkin on the table. “Andrew isn’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
; “I don’t know, exactly. Someone a little . . . cockier, maybe.” She folded her napkin and set it next to her plate. “He seems genuinely sorry.”
I turned to look at Andrew for a moment. As if he could somehow feel my eyes on him, his gaze flicked in my direction and he smiled at me before giving Maggie all his attention again.
“Yes, he does,” I said. I pushed back from the table and got to my feet.
Andrew stood up as well and gave Roma and Maggie his killer smile. “It was good to meet you both,” he said. “Breakfast is on me.”
That got him three “no’s” in response.
He looked at me. “Yes. I invited you.”
Roma nodded. “You invited Kathleen. Not Maggie and me.”
“Kathleen invited you,” he said with a slight shrug. He looked at me. “I’ll be right back and I’ll walk you to the library.” He was on his way to the cash register before I had a chance to object to that, too.
Maggie came around the table and hugged me, careful not to squeeze my left arm. “How are you?” she asked, concern making tiny lines around her eyes.
“I’m okay.”
“I don’t just mean your arm.”
“I know,” I said.
She pointed at Andrew, who was at the counter talking to Eric. “He’s nice. I tried to dislike him, but I couldn’t.”
“It’s all right. He is nice.” I reached for my sweater. “And he’s wasting his time. Things were over between us a long time ago.” I slid my right arm into the sleeve and Roma draped the other side over my sling.
“Don’t overdo it, Kathleen,” she warned.
“I won’t,” I promised. “If I need extra help Abigail already offered to come in for a few hours.”
She still looked skeptical.
I held up three fingers. “Librarian’s honor.”
Roma laughed then. “Oh well, that puts my mind at ease.” She turned to Maggie. “Would you like a ride over to River Arts?”
Maggie shook her head, making her blond curls jiggle. “Thanks, but I’ll walk. I need to stop at the co-op store. You’re coming to the tasting this afternoon?”
Roma nodded. “Absolutely. I have to go out to the Kings’ after lunch to check on Taylor’s horse and the rest of my afternoon is clear, assuming there are no emergencies.”
They both looked at me. Roma had had to use her medical skills on me more than once. “I’m not going to do anything risky,” I said solemnly. Then I held up the three fingers again.
“I better get going,” Roma said. She squeezed my good arm. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Maggie wrapped her in a hug. “Call me if anything changes,” she said.
Roma nodded and threaded her way through the tables to go say good-bye to Andrew.
“Have you spoken to Marcus?” Maggie asked.
I shook my head.
“It’ll work out.”
“I don’t know, Mags,” I said. “Marcus and I have some pretty big differences. Maybe there isn’t any way to work them out.”
She was wearing three twisted silver bracelets and she pushed them up her arm. “It’ll work out,” she repeated. “What’s meant to be always finds a way to be.”
I waved at Roma as she headed out the door. “So you think Marcus and I are meant to be?”
Maggie laughed. “Where have you been for the last year and a half?”
Andrew joined us again.
“I’ll see you this afternoon,” I said to Maggie.
“I’ll be back and forth between the tents and the community center,” she said. She leaned around me to speak to Andrew. “Are you coming to the food tasting and art show this afternoon?”
“Yes, I am,” he said. He shot me a sideways look. “If someone takes pity on me and agrees to show me around.”
At that moment, outside the diner, Burtis Chapman was coming up the sidewalk, likely on his way back to his truck. Burtis was a big block of a man. He looked as though he could wrench the top off a bottle with one hand. Or someone’s head off his neck.
“I think I could find someone to do that,” Maggie said sweetly. She pointed out the window. “There’s Burtis. I’m sure he’d be happy to show you around.”
Andrew just laughed. “It was good to meet you, Maggie,” he said.
She smiled. “You too.”
We walked out together. Maggie went down the street and Andrew and I turned left toward the library. “So did I pass inspection?” he asked after we’d walked a few feet.
“They liked you,” I said.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m very likable.”
I ignored the comment. “How did you know I asked them to meet us?”
“I know you,” he said. “You haven’t changed that much.” He reached over and brushed a stray piece of hair off my face. Andrew had made that same gesture dozens of times when we were going out, but it felt too personal this time. Without really thinking about it, I took a step sideways, putting a little more space between us.
His face flushed. “Sorry,” he said softly.
We walked in uncomfortable silence to the corner. I was trying to think of some new way to tell Andrew to go home and I wasn’t paying any attention to people coming down the hill. So I didn’t see Marcus until I literally walked into him.
He caught me by my shoulders to steady me. “I’m sorry, Kathleen,” he said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you all right?”
I nodded. “It’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention, either.” I stared up into his blue eyes, feeling ridiculously happy just to be standing there.
He seemed to realize then that he was still holding on to me. He dropped his hands and I caught the scent of his citrusy aftershave before he stepped back.
“You did hurt your arm.” He gestured at the sling.
“It’s not serious,” I said, rubbing the shoulder where his hand had rested just a moment before. Was I imagining that I could still feel the warmth from his fingers?
“It looks serious.”
“It’s not—I promise. Roma and Maggie took me to the emergency room. The sling is just to keep me from using my arm for a few days.”
“That’s good.” He jammed both hands in the pockets of his jacket, his gaze never leaving my face. “I’m glad you’re all right.” I waited for him to say he’d gotten my messages, that he was sorry, angry, anything. But he didn’t.
Beside me Andrew shifted from one foot to the other.
I cleared my throat. “Marcus, this is my friend Andrew Reid. He’s here from Boston.” I turned to Andrew. “Andrew, this is Detective Marcus Gordon.”
It seemed to me that Marcus stood just a little straighter as he held out his hand. Andrew definitely did, squaring his shoulders and taking a step forward to shake hands.
“Welcome to Mayville Heights,” Marcus said. “Are you here for the food tasting?”
“No, I’m not,” Andrew said with a cool smile that was nothing like the charming grin he’d used on Maggie at the café. He shot me a quick sideways glance.
I’d never told Marcus about my relationship with Andrew, but it was clear from the way his face shifted into his unreadable police officer expression that he’d figured out there had been something between us. Both men were sizing each other up and not being very subtle about it. I felt a little like they were a couple of German shepherds and I was a fire hydrant.
“I need to get to the station,” Marcus said abruptly. “Take care of your arm, Kathleen.” He gave Andrew an almost imperceptible nod and continued down the sidewalk.
Andrew and I crossed the street and continued on to the library. “I suppose in a small place like this you get to know pretty much everyone,” he said after a couple of minutes of silence.
I knew a fishing expedition when I heard one. “That’s one of the things I like about Mayville Heights.”
“You know a lot of people in Boston.”
We were almost at the library. “I know that,” I said, stopping again s
o I could look at him full-on. “I know my family is there. And Lise, and a lot of other people I care about. But you’re still wasting your time. I’m not going to fall into your arms and ride off into the sunset with you.” I started walking again and he scrambled to keep up with me.
“Sunrise,” he said after a moment.
I frowned at him. “Excuse me?”
“Sunrise.” He made a gesture in the general direction of the river. “We’d be going east, so we’d be riding off into the sunrise.”
I took a deep breath and turned toward the library steps. I thought it was a better idea than pushing him into the nearest flower bed, which was what I’d suddenly had an intense urge to do.
Mary was just coming from the parking lot. “Good morning, Kathleen,” she said. She smiled at Andrew and offered her right hand. There was a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Hello, I’m Mary Lowe,” she said. “And you are?”
Tiny and gray-haired, Mary looked like she should be in the kitchen baking apple pies—which she did like to do. She was also the state kickboxing champion for her age and weight class. She may have looked like a sweet little grandmother, but she also had what she called her don’t-give-a-flying-fig-newton side.
Andrew shook her hand and introduced himself. I went up the steps, unlocked the main doors and turned off the alarm.
He stepped through the second set of doors and stopped. I watched him take in the wide wooden trim, the stained-glass windows and the mosaic tile floor. “Oh, Kath, this is nice work. Very nice work,” he said, nodding his head as he continued to look around.
I grinned as though I’d actually been the one to repair the mosaic floor tiles and sand the gleaming woodwork.
“This is one of the Carnegie libraries.”
Mary nodded, shifting her quilted tote bag from one hand to the other. “It was built a hundred years ago.”
Andrew gestured toward the curve of windows in the computer area overlooking the water. “All that trim can’t be original.”
“It’s not.” You could hear the pride in Mary’s voice and see it in her smile.
“Someone did some excellent work in here.”