“I’m sorry,” Josh said, sounding as if he meant it.
She blew out a long breath. Maybe Rocco would take her home right away. On second thought, she doubted it. More than likely he’d want to bask in Frankie’s moments of glory as long as they lasted.
“I’d better go,” she said, whirling away from him. “I need to—” She stopped talking as soon as she realized that if Josh knew she didn’t have a ride home, he would probably insist on providing it.
“I need to take care of my headache,” she finished lamely. She began to walk swiftly toward the big double doors.
Mia came running up. “Aunt Gina, Frankie’s dad says he’s treating everyone to ice cream. He wants you to come, too, Josh.”
“I’m sorry, Mia, I can’t go,” Gina said hastily. Although if everyone in her family was going to get ice cream, there would be no one to drive her home.
“Josh, you’ll come, won’t you?” Mia tugged at his hand.
“Sure, Mia, it sounds like fun.”
“Not for all of us,” Gina said, not quite believing that Josh had the gall to horn in on another family function. Before he could reply, she stomped off in search of someone who could drop her off at her cottage.
A few inquiries of family members produced no offers to forsake the ice cream parlor for the chance to drive Gina home, but Barbara suggested an aspirin, which she produced from her purse.
“Anyway,” Barbara said soothingly, “you really should go with us. Frankie will be hurt if you don’t, and you and I are sort of his acting mothers now that Cissy’s gone.”
That was a guilt trip that Gina couldn’t resist; she had promised Cissy before she died that she would always take an interest in Frankie. And then Shelley, who also played the accordion, came out of the ladies’ room and was invited by Barbara to accompany them, and Gina thought that maybe she’d better ride with Shelley and talk up Rocco, who, Gina was convinced, still liked her.
And that was how Gina found herself bumping knees with Rocco, Shelley and Josh Corbett at a table at Baskin-Robbins while halfheartedly trying to eat a sugar cone heaped with bubble gum ice cream—Mia’s choice for her.
Rocco and Shelley were hitting it off magnificently; Frankie was at another table, impressing Mia and a host of younger relatives with descriptions of his feats on his skate-board; and Josh kept smiling at her in that infuriating way of his as she did her best to force the ice cream past the lump of fury in her throat.
“Stop it,” she hissed at Josh when Shelley and Rocco were deep in a discussion about Shelley’s old car, which Rocco had insisted he’d repair free.
“Stop what?” Josh said, putting on an innocent expression that was pure fake.
“There are no cameras here the way there were on the show. You don’t have to pretend.” Thank goodness the aspirin was kicking in. The throbbing in her head had subsided to an ache.
“Pretend? Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“And what am I pretending?” His eyes took on a devilish gleam as he treated himself to a long, languorous lick of pistachio. A runnel of it dripped down his wrist, and Gina imagined licking it off. She made herself look away.
“That you—that you—” Words failed her. She averted her eyes, suddenly no longer angry. She was exhausted, though. Anger could do that to a person.
“That I’m fascinated by you,” he supplied.
People were starting to leave, and Barbara stopped by to give her a hug. “Mia won’t be coming to Good Thymes after school on Monday,” she said. “I’m taking her to shop for shoes. We’ll see you at the Bootery, Shelley.”
Shelley smiled. “Good. We carry a new children’s line that you might want to check out.”
Mia, wearing a smear of chocolate ice cream on her face, danced up in the company of her sister, Stacey. She insisted on hugging Josh goodbye.
“See?” Josh said. “Some people like me.”
Gina rolled her eyes. “I like you well enough, Josh.” Now that she had calmed down, now that she understood what her lingering grudge against him could do to her, she could admit it.
“This is progress. This is good.” He finished off the last of his ice cream cone and tossed his napkin in a nearby trash can. “Can I give you a ride home?”
“I’m with Rocco.”
“Rocco is making time with Shelley. Do you really want to disturb that?”
“He’s got Frankie with him. I seriously doubt that he and Shelley are going to get together until they can count on privacy.”
Rocco turned toward them. “Did I hear my name?”
“It must be time to go. I have to be out in the garden early tomorrow morning as usual,” Gina said, trying to sound bright and cheery while simultaneously telegraphing her urgency.
Rocco scanned the room to find Frankie. “Yo, Frankie. Let’s split.”
“Aw, Pop, do we have to?”
“It’s getting late, son.”
“Okay, after I get a drink of water.” Frankie headed toward the water cooler at the back of the store.
Gina stood to leave. Josh stood, too, and Rocco was distracted by Uncle Fredo, who was waxing enthusiastic about the benefits of playing the accordion.
Josh spoke close to her ear. “I haven’t been to see you at Good Thymes, but only because I’m honoring your request.” His steady gaze unnerved her, and she felt herself trembling on the edge of something that she’d rather not confront.
“I’d like to buy a copy of the cookbook that benefits the teen center, though,” Josh continued. “My sister in Brazil would love to have it. She’s attempting to train her cook in American cuisine, and it’s been slow going from what I understand.”
Gina felt absurdly grateful for this mundane conversation, one that held no threat. “I’m waiting for a new shipment of copies, but I’ll be glad to send one to her,” she said.
“I don’t have Valerie’s address with me here—I’ll have to call my office. Do you suppose you could drop a copy off at my place? You could give it to Judy Rae.”
“I’d be glad to. Maybe the first of next week?”
“Val’s birthday is coming up soon. I wouldn’t want to wait any longer than that.”
“You won’t have to. I’ll see that you get it.” Her voice had returned to normal now, and she had almost banished her disturbing thoughts about kissing him at the bottom of her cottage stairs.
Josh reached for his wallet. “I’ll pay you now.”
She waved him away, and as Rocco approached, she said to Josh, “Mail me a check.”
Josh looked as if he might have more to say, but Rocco didn’t give him a chance. “Okay, Gina, let’s get the show on the road. Josh, thanks for coming. It meant a lot to my boy.”
“I had a great time.” Josh smiled and shook Rocco’s hand, and in that moment Gina felt a stab of regret that she and Josh had not reached the same stage of amiability. Quickly, she turned away and slid her arm around Frankie’s shoulders, unwilling to let regret morph into other, more disturbing emotions. “Ready, Frankie? Let’s roll.”
“Not before I say goodbye to Josh.” Gina watched as he went and shook Josh’s hand, wondering if she would be expected to do the same. But no, Josh merely gave her a nod and a smile before greeting her uncle Albert. She would have liked to come up with a flippant comment that would show Josh that she was taking all this in stride, but she could think of nothing to say, so instead, she wheeled and followed Frankie out of the ice cream shop.
Frankie chattered all the way to the car. “Mr. Buscani said I played better than he even expected, and he told me before the recital that he thought I’d do great. He says he wants me to join the real accordion band, and we’ll play just for fun a couple of times a week or so. I’ll be the youngest member ever. Can I, Pop? Can I?”
“Tell me more about it,” Rocco said. And father and son kept talking while Gina, alone in the back seat, stared bleakly out the window at the passing houses all the way home.
Paramount in h
er mind was the knowledge that she wouldn’t have had to be riding in the back seat of Rocco’s car, dependent on him for a ride. She could have been sitting beside Josh in the BMW, laughing at something that they both thought funny, commenting on the recital and maybe sharing a leisurely glass of wine at her place.
Except that there was no way they’d stop at a glass of wine, and therein lay the reason that she was riding home with her cousin.
“YOU MEAN MY CAR’S NOT going to be ready today, either?” Gina asked wearily.
On the other end of the phone, Rocco cleared his throat. “No, it’s a complicated electrical system problem, and I’m doing the work myself. I might have it ready tomorrow.”
“You said that yesterday. I’m so disappointed.”
“I know, I know. What can I say?”
Rocco, generous to a fault, was not planning to charge her for the repairs to her Galaxie. She didn’t feel comfortable taking him to task for not having it ready, especially since she knew he was shorthanded at the shop.
“It’s okay. I’ll find some other way to get Mia to her dance class,” Gina said distractedly. The school bus had stopped in front of Good Thymes, and Mia was disembarking.
“I’ll do my best for you. I hope you understand that.” Rocco sounded extremely apologetic.
“I do. Mia’s here, so I’ll talk to you later.”
Mia bounced through the door as she hung up. “Hi, Aunt Gina. I can’t wait to go to my dancing lesson today. Madison Cleary got new tights, and she thinks they’re way cool.”
With a sinking heart, Gina remembered that her mother was supposed to stop by to sort herbs for the catering business and had volunteered to mind the shop while Gina ferried Mia to dance class. Barbara couldn’t provide transportation for her daughter because she was still working long hours at the winery for Uncle Fredo and using her car for errands, while Maren was being dropped off by a friend who had borrowed her car while her own car was, guess where, at Rocco’s being repaired.
Her glance fell upon the cookbook that she had placed on the counter earlier. She’d been planning to take it by Judy Rae’s house that afternoon so that Josh could send it to his sister.
Well, maybe Maren’s friend, who was also her aunt Sophia’s bridge partner, would drop Mia off at dance class. It would be out of the way, however, for her to deliver the cookbook to Judy Rae. Things certainly got complicated in this big family, but perhaps if she called her mother…
Maren, though, was strolling jauntily through the parking lot at that very moment and continued on into the store before Gina could even pick up the phone.
“Oh, Mother, I’m really in a bind. I promised Barb I’d take Mia to dance class and I intended to take this cookbook to Judy Rae’s, and Rocco still has my car. Have you ever had one of those days that you had so much to do you met yourself coming and going?”
“Yes,” Maren said serenely. “Yesterday, when my bridge club met at my house and Gayle asked to use my car because hers is being repaired, and the electricity went off for two hours for no reason at all, and Fredo wanted me to stop by the plant and pick up the winery’s new financial report—well, you get the picture. Oh, and by the way, here’s your copy of the report. Fredo says to read it because he wants all of us to be informed about the situation at the winery.”
“Like I’d really have time today,” Gina said with irony as she put the folder in the basket to carry upstairs to her apartment later.
“It doesn’t matter as long as you attend to it in the next few days. How about if I call around on my cell phone to see if one of the mothers of the girls in Mia’s class can stop by to pick her up, and you phone Judy Rae and ask her if you can take the cookbook to her after you get your car back?” Maren had a reputation for being unflappable.
Gina thought through Maren’s plan. “The first part is fine, the second part won’t work. The cookbook isn’t really for Judy Rae. It’s for Josh Corbett.”
Her mother’s eyes grew round, but she was already entering numbers on her cell phone and didn’t comment.
Josh’s payment check for the cookbook had appeared in Gina’s mailbox yesterday, but he’d written it for too much money. She intended to refund the extra two dollars to him, so she grabbed two one-dollar bills from the cash register and folded them into the book.
Maren clicked off her cell phone. “Bette Anne Lovvorn has already left to drive the dance class car pool, according to her son. Corby Wallace says that her little Katy isn’t going today—she has the sniffles. That leaves Nola Miles, and she’s not answering her phone.”
Mia, dressed in a leotard, her ballet shoes slung over her shoulders, came down the stairs from Gina’s apartment. “Hi, Gramma. I didn’t know you were here. Are you taking me to dance class?”
Gina’s mother held out her arms. “No, sweetie, I can’t. I don’t have my car.”
“And I don’t have mine.” Gina hung up, having reached Judy Rae’s home phone, only to be asked by the answering machine to leave a brief message. She’d thought that if Judy Rae were out and about running errands, she might do her the favor of picking up the cookbook for Josh and perhaps drop Mia off at dance class.
“Well,” Mia said, “how am I going to get to dancing?”
“We’ll get you there, don’t worry,” Gina said. She picked up the phone to dial her cousin Maureen’s number. Maureen lived around the corner and could be counted on in an emergency to provide instant transportation now that she was an empty-nester.
The phone had no dial tone. Instead, a male voice on the other end of the line said, “Hello?”
She recognized Josh’s deep voice immediately. “It’s Gina, Josh. What do you want?”
Mia climbed up on the stool next to the counter. “If it’s Josh, can I talk to him?”
Gina shook her head warningly at her niece.
“I dialed your number, Gina, but the phone didn’t ring, and then you answered. I was calling to find out what happened to the cookbook you were going to bring by. I never got it.”
“Josh, I’m sorry. My car’s still in Rocco’s shop, and it’s causing all kinds of havoc.”
“No need to be sorry. It’s just that Valerie’s birthday is soon and I have her address, so I was hoping to get the book in the mail today.”
“Please can I talk to Josh?” Mia was jumping up and down, her ballet shoes bouncing on the strings around her neck. Gina looked for Maren, but she was already outside in the potting shed, apportioning herbs into plastic envelopes.
Gina waved Mia away. “As soon as I figure out how to get Mia to her dancing class, I’ll see what I can do about delivering the cookbook. This has been a busy day.”
Josh surprised her by being quick on the uptake. “Mia needs to go somewhere? That’s no problem. I can provide the wheels and get the cookbook at the same time.” Josh’s tone was exuberant, and she almost hated him for it. She didn’t think he had the right to sound happy when she had her hands full of problems.
“Well, um,” she began.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Josh hung up.
Her mother came inside. “Gina, where’s the stapler? I couldn’t find it. Did Mia get a ride?”
Gina reached under the counter and handed the stapler to Maren. “Josh said he’ll take Mia to her class. He can pick up the cookbook at the same time.”
“I’m pretty excited about this, Gramma,” Mia said. “Lately I like Josh more than anybody in the world.”
“That’s nice,” Maren said. “Gina, did you know that it’s visitors’ day at the dance studio?”
“No,” Gina replied. “Barb failed to mention it.”
“Well, it is,” Mia said. “We’re going to have cookies and punch afterward, and we can ask anyone we want. Can you go, Aunt Gina?”
“Aren’t you going?” Gina asked her mother.
“I went to the last one and today I’m on a mission for Dede’s catering service. The herbs,” Maren reminded her.
“Well, Aunt
Gina, that means you have to go,” Mia said imploringly.
“Of course she will,” Maren said sternly. “Your aunt Gina wouldn’t miss visitors’ day for the world.”
“Mother,” Gina said in protest at the precise moment that Josh’s car pulled into the parking lot.
“Here he is,” cried Mia. The front door of the shop slammed as she ran outside to meet Josh.
“Mia has to take someone,” Maren said. “You wouldn’t want her to be the only child without a relative present, especially since there are so many relatives.”
“Where are they when I really need them?” Gina said with exasperation, but her mother gave her no quarter.
“They’re usually right there, being supportive.”
“I was only joking,” Gina informed her, and Maren’s answering grin told her that she’d known that all along.
Josh walked into the shop. He was wearing faded jeans and a red polo shirt, and he looked wonderful. Gina’s heart did a little flip at the sight of him.
“Hi, Mia. Let’s go. Oh, hello, Maren. Helping Gina today?”
Maren smiled back. “Yes, Josh, I am. That’s why she’s free to go with Mia to her class.”
“You’re going, too, Gina?” Josh beamed.
Her words came out more stilted than she’d intended. “It’s visitors’ day at the dance class, and I hope you don’t mind dropping me off with Mia.”
“Josh could visit my class, too,” Mia said, taking his hand. “Will you, Josh?”
Josh, clearly surprised at this turn of events, looked from Gina to Maren and back again. “I’d like that,” he said.
Maren shooed them away. “Go on, all of you. Gina, I’ll hold the fort until you get back.”
Josh plucked the cookbook off the counter. “Is this one for me?”
“Yes,” Gina said, flustered.
“We’d better leave now,” Mia said. “I don’t want to be late.”
Heard It Through the Grapevine Page 10