by Jenna Mindel
Giving the kid a website wasn’t encouraging him to pursue fishing. Although, seeing what a tournament looked like in pictures might whet Greg’s appetite. If he clicked around, he’d see that there were college tournaments, too. Why was that such a bad thing?
“What?” Cam grinned at her and stepped behind the counter.
“You know exactly what.” Rose put in an order with ease.
Cam switched gears. “I told you my mom was good. Not as good as me, though.”
Rose rolled her eyes and returned to take another order.
“Cameron Zelinsky, what are you up to?” His mother poured six more perfectly sized pancakes speckled with fresh strawberries onto the grill.
Watching the batter bubble around the edges, he answered with conviction, “Good things, Mom. Only good things.”
More than ever in his life, he wanted to do the right thing. When it came to Rose and Greg and when it came to fishing. Especially when it came to fishing. This weekend, he’d find out what he was made of and when push came to shove in the tournament standings, Cam prayed he’d be good. Good enough to place.
* * *
Saturday afternoon, Rose locked the front door of the diner and leaned against it. She’d made it through the last three days without Cam at the grill. Helen had held her own, but she didn’t have the flair of her son. Helen didn’t have that carefree, bring-it attitude, either. Her food was super-good with a home-cooked, eating-at-Grandma’s vibe but she turned orders out a bit slower.
All good, but not as good as Cam. His words proved true yet again.
“What a day!” Helen Zelinsky poured herself a tall iced tea into one of those glasses that Cam had brought in. He didn’t like the pebbled plastic tumblers in the diner.
“You did a great job.” Rose wanted to pay Cam’s mom regardless of what Cam had said, but Helen had refused.
Helen smiled. “I’m no Cam, but it’s nice to know I can still muddle my way around a small restaurant.”
“I wouldn’t call it muddling. You know what you’re doing.”
“Have you had a chance to review your applications for the cook position?”
Rose nodded.
Yesterday, she had finally received two inquiries she wanted to follow up on now that they’d closed. Rose heard the telltale rattling of dishes pulled through the dishwasher. The busboy was bustling through cleanup. Was Greg still helping?
She glanced toward the back of the diner. The serviceable kitchen was not in full view; only a small portion could be seen through a narrow entry. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
“Mom! Cam moved up into the top three.”
“You’re supposed to be helping Chris.”
“I was, but I wanted to check the standings real quick. Cam caught a huge bass this morning that moved him up. So far, no one’s caught bigger.”
Rose glanced at Helen.
“He’s good.” Cam’s mom didn’t look thrilled when she said it.
Rose wasn’t thrilled at all. Selfishly, she wanted Cam to stay on as cook, but knew there’d be no chance of that happening if he did well. If she remembered correctly, there were three fishing tournaments Cam had to not only attend but finish in the top five to qualify for next year’s schedule. If he succeeded, there was no way he’d consider cooking for Dean’s Hometown Grille on a permanent basis.
“Want to see the video?”
“Not right now. And please help Chris in back.” Rose turned to Helen. “You needn’t stay. You’ve already helped so much, the least I can do is take care of cleanup.”
“No, no. I’ll have it done in a flash.” Cam’s mom gestured toward the kitchen, where Greg had gone. “I wonder who’s more excited, your son or mine. I imagine Cam’s sweating the last few hours hoping he can maintain his position.”
“Is pro fishing a tough career?” Rose asked.
Helen pursed her lips into a grim line. “I’ve seen what the stress has done to him. He says he loves it, but after losing his sponsors last year...” She shook her head. “It really shook him up. He’s not nearly as confident as he used to be.”
Rose remained quiet, hoping his mom would elaborate, but she didn’t.
“He loves teaching your boy to fish.”
Rose chuckled. “Greg idolizes him.”
Helen’s smile couldn’t be wider or more filled with pride. “I noticed that. Rose, Cam might be my son, but believe me when I say he’s a good man.”
“Yes, he is.” Rose agreed. She wasn’t sure he was a good man for her, though. “Well, I’d better call those applicants and see if I can’t get a permanent cook hired. It sounds like Cam’s well on his way to success.”
“I’ll clean up the grill station and then call it a day.” She hesitated a moment. “Rose, I really look forward to having you and Greg out for dinner with the rest of the family. Working with you these past few days, well, you’re like one of my own.”
Helen had a way of looking through her, right down into her heart.
Rose fought against that feeling of being laid bare along with the lump that had formed in her throat. If nothing else, she had made a true friend in Cam’s mom. “Oh, Helen, thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome. If you ever need anything, call me. I can come back and do this again, you know.”
“Thank you. I will.”
Rose hoped she wouldn’t need to take her up on that. She headed for her stool by the cash register and looked over the two applications. Spotting the phone number on one, she dialed it and waited. She’d set up interviews for both on Monday.
She hoped Cam meant what he said about sticking around to transition them. He’d offered his help to interview and she would take him up on that, at least. He probably knew specific questions to ask since he had the experience she lacked.
Then she would hire his replacement. The hard part was that she feared no such person existed.
Chapter Eight
Late Tuesday afternoon, Cam parked his truck in front of the diner and waited for Greg and Rose. They were headed to his parents’ place for dinner. He’d been home three days and it felt good. Returning late Sunday night from the tournament in upstate New York, Cam had called Rose to reassure her that he would cook Monday. She had hit him up to help interview two applicants after they’d closed.
The timing was good. Hire on a new cook that Cam could train the following week and then step out of the picture. He needed to focus and prep for that next Open tournament in Virginia. He’d finished fourth overall in New York, but he needed to keep that trend going to qualify for next year’s series. It was what he wanted. It was what he’d prayed for.
So, why didn’t he feel the excitement he used to?
Rose and Greg stepped out of the front door and Rose turned to lock it. She carried a beach bag instead of her giant purse. Neither one looked his way, so he beeped the horn. The sound startled Rose but she smiled when she saw him and waved.
That smile hit him square in the chest, tightening it to the point that he thought his back might snap. He watched her approach the truck, drinking in every detail of her. She wore long khaki shorts and a sleeveless button-down top. The print was something he might see on one of his grandmother’s tablecloths, but on Rose, it looked so feminine. And dangerously pretty.
“Hello.” She climbed into the passenger seat and handed the bag to Greg, who had settled into the back.
“Hey, Cam.”
“Hey.” He nodded at the kid, then did a double take on Rose. She wore makeup again. Not a lot, but enough to notice how green her eyes looked with dark golden smudges at the corners framed by black lashes. “You look nice.”
She blushed, but gave him the once-over, too. “So do you.”
“Thanks.” He wore shorts and a T-shirt and neither were anything special, but her compliment lodged somew
here in his midsection, making him breathe a little deeper.
There was something different in her since he’d returned, or maybe it was him. Maybe he was different. He had never missed anyone before. Not like he’d missed Greg and Rose.
“Can we go now?” Greg moaned.
Rose’s cheeks reddened even more as if she’d forgotten her son was with them. She turned and corrected him. “We don’t have to go at all, you know.”
Cam connected with the boy’s gaze through the rearview mirror. “Hey, bud, we’ll get on the lake when we get on the lake.”
Greg nodded. Message received loud and clear.
He glanced at Rose. She’d buckled up and her hands were folded primly in her lap. She gave him a look of approval that confirmed he hadn’t overstepped his bounds and that small gift of trust felt good. Really good.
“Do you like air-conditioning or opened windows?”
“Windows.”
“Me, too.” Cam rolled his window down all the way. It had been a glorious summer day, promising another mild, warm summer night ahead. He pulled out into traffic, turned and headed north, out of town.
He’d changed the radio to the same station Rose played at the diner. A soft country tune surrounded them and Rose tapped her fingers to the beat and hummed under her breath. “You like country.”
She nodded. “Love it. Don’t you?”
“I can take it or leave it. Although, I know a lot of the songs since it’s played practically everywhere during fishing tournaments.” He winked. “And at your diner.”
“What do you usually listen to?”
He clicked to the contemporary Christian station. He didn’t read the Bible, not like a man of faith should. He had tried, but didn’t get further than a few verses before giving up, frustrated. This radio station filled the gap. For months now, he started his day on a positive note with short sermons and then music. “Believe it or not, I usually listen to this.”
“I believe it.” She smiled.
He smiled back.
They talked about his tournament after Greg pumped him for more information about the six-pounder he’d caught. He loved the kid’s enthusiasm. Glancing at Rose, he felt his own excitement wane. She’d had a tough choice between the only two cooks that had applied and Cam wasn’t thrilled with either.
One was an older guy with experience in too many chain restaurants, making Cam believe the guy wouldn’t stay. The second applicant was a college-aged girl heading for a large culinary school in September. Rose had hired the latter because she wanted to continue the creativity in the menu Cam had started. Cam didn’t like her facing yet another temporary fix and told her so. Rose had simply shrugged, stating she’d cross that bridge then. Then was only a couple months away.
They were over halfway to his parents’ place when Rose asked, “How far away do your parents live?”
“About ten miles from town. We’re almost there.”
Rose rested her arm along the opened window of the passenger side door. She stuck her hand outside to play in the wind and her short hair fluttered. “It’s pretty out here. So many open fields. You must have rode the bus to school.”
Cam groaned. “We hated the bus. Each one of us. Since we lived so far out, we were some of the first picked up and the last dropped off.”
“See, Greg, you’ll be able to walk to school this fall.”
Cam looked in the rearview mirror. The kid played an electronic handheld game. He was old enough for a cell phone, wasn’t he? Maybe he would mention it to Rose. Cam had a generous plan and it wouldn’t cost much to add them.
“After-school sports will be a snap living so close. What do you like to play?”
The boy gave him a lopsided smile. “Not golf.”
Cam chuckled. “You’re tall. What about basketball? I think they still have a seventh and eighth grade team.”
“Did you play?”
“Basketball? I sure did. All of junior high until my sophomore year of high school.”
“Maybe I’ll try out then.”
Cam nodded, floored that this kid wanted to be like him.
“What happened after tenth grade?” Rose asked.
“I started the junior bass fishing circuit in earnest. I worked all summer to save up for travel costs.”
“Really?” Greg perked up, but then his face fell. “But I can’t fish in the winter, can I?”
“Sure you can,” Cam offered. “Ice fishing is big around here.”
Rose cast him an accusatory look. “I don’t want him on the ice.”
“Awww, Mom.”
“I’m serious, Greg.” Again with the mom-tone.
Cam tried to hide a chuckle, snickered, then covered it with a cough when Rose gave him one of her mom looks.
He pulled into his parents’ driveway already packed with his siblings’ vehicles and parked. He waited for Greg to slip out of the back seat and leaned toward Rose. “I’ll take him this winter.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you’d be around. Aren’t there tournaments down South throughout the winter months?”
“Yeah, but he’s not the only one I’d come home for.” Cam might be getting ahead of himself but she had taken up a lot of space in his thoughts over the weekend. He wanted to know if he had a chance. If they had a chance of doing something about this attraction between them.
She searched his eyes. Hard.
“Hello, Gregory.” His mom’s voice sounded nearby, killing the moment.
“Just Greg,” the kid mumbled.
Rose quickly looked away. She slipped from the truck and gave his mom a hug. “Hi, Helen. Thank you for inviting us. I hope your son doesn’t mind us crashing his birthday dinner.”
His mom laughed. “Of course not. Luke’s not even here yet. Come inside and get something cold to drink. Dinner won’t be for a bit and everyone’s out back. I hope you brought your swimsuit.”
Cam got out, too, and grabbed Rose’s bag from the back seat. “Yes, we did.” Rose reached for her beach bag.
“I got it.”
“There’s a card in there for your brother.” She didn’t look back again as she walked with his mom, chattering about everything and nothing, into the house.
His mom glanced his way, though, with a big fat smile.
Cam knew approval when he saw it. His mom liked Rose. Bringing her home to meet the family was a loud declaration of his intent, even if Cam wasn’t exactly sure what his intentions were at this point. All he knew was that he liked being around Rose and her son. His brothers and sisters had better not remark on it, because getting involved with Rose was a big step. Big steps could lead to really big falls.
* * *
Rose sipped ice cold lemonade and scanned the huge picnic table filled with Cam’s family. She and her son brought the total seated to thirteen people and there was room yet for a couple more. When Rose had asked where they found a table so large, Helen explained that her husband had made it years ago as well as the equally large dining room table.
She’d met Cam’s father briefly when he stopped at the diner to look in on his wife. Andy Zelinsky was as talented in carpentry as he was at making syrup. A retired army lieutenant-colonel, the man knew how to get things done.
She glanced at Cam across from her. Greg was seated in the middle of the table, between Cam’s brothers Darren and Marcus.
“It’s not just about the fishing. There’s the ride up talking smack. You know, man stuff,” Marcus said.
Greg’s eyes were big as saucers.
Darren added, “Imagine seeing a bear swimming across a channel or moose on the shoreline. There are otters bigger than dogs up there, eagles, even cougars. You’re not going to see that playing video games. We’ll have to take you up there with us sometime.”
As Cam’s brothers filled her son
’s ears with tales of fishing in Canada, she knew she was doomed. Rose could envision the constant begging for the trip yet to come, and how could she dampen Greg’s hopes with refusals right now, knowing there was no way she’d let him go. Unless she and Cam—
Rose slammed that possibility shut. She’d have to see where whatever was simmering between them went. He had implied that he’d come home for her, too, but Rose didn’t have a good track record with long-distance relationships. Kurt had strayed—would Cam eventually do that, too? Scanning the table, she could see that Cam’s family were nice people she knew she could trust. Could she trust Cam? Far too early to tell.
Cam was different at home. He seemed a little detached from his family, as if he didn’t quite fit the Zelinsky mold. He joked and teased but seemed closed off somehow, not as relaxed as usual.
“Cam tells me you interviewed those two cooks and hired one. Were they good?” Helen sat next to her at the end of the table, while Cam’s dad sat at the other end.
“I thought they were, but Cam didn’t see it that way.”
“Oh?” Helen Zelinsky’s smile widened and she turned toward her son. “What was wrong with them, Cameron?”
Rose nearly laughed at the discomfort on his face.
He shrugged. “Not sure they’re right for the Grille.”
“It’s not like I had many choices, so I went with the one I liked best. Sheila starts Monday the fifth.” Rose related well to the college-aged wannabe chef. The other applicant reminded her too much of Chuck.
“Hmm. Maybe someone else will turn up.” Helen leaned toward her. “No one can beat Cam in the kitchen. I hate to admit that he puts my cooking to shame.”
“Oh, I don’t know. This is delicious. I’d eat more but I’m stuffed.” Rose patted her belly.
Although Darren had grilled the simple hamburgers and hot dogs, Helen had made the rest. She’d served homemade potato salad, a huge seven-layer salad, and a hot dish of homemade pierogi with sauerkraut and bacon that was amazing.
Helen chuckled. “We usually play horseshoes before dessert. Gets us all moving a little.”