She was a page from a catalog, and anyone seeing her would gladly plunk down money for the whole package, she was that endearing.
He couldn’t let his parents spoil her. He’d seen the tendency at Christmas, and he’d stayed quiet because loss hit hard at Christmas. Holidays and grief made a sorry mix.
But Ginger had been gone over two years now. Addie had adjusted well. She didn’t like not having a mom, and she made that clear, but she didn’t ask about Ginger anymore, either. Losing a parent at such a young age was both bane and blessing. At age four, a child didn’t understand the permanency of death, and after a while, she’d just stopped asking.
The sad part was that she might not ever have real, firm memories of her mother, and that was harsh. But on the positive side she remembered being loved. That was the best blessing of all. “How about supper?”
“I was hoping for fish and chips?”
He laughed because what six-year-old hoped for fish and chips?
His.
“Let’s do it. And then a bath before bed because you can’t go off to school tomorrow with today’s sand in your hair.”
“Okay!”
She took his hand. She’d done that at her mother’s funeral, as others walked away, heads bowed.
She’d watched them settle flowers on her mother’s casket, with no real idea what it all meant, and then she’d reached up and clasped his hand. And she didn’t let go. And that’s how it had been ever since. “I like that Miss Josie’s coming to work with us.”
“She’s not.” He spoke instantly, then wondered why.
“She is so, silly!” Addie brought to task, laughing. “Her restaurant is going to be in our hotel, right?”
“Except it’s not ours,” he reminded her. “I’m only working on it.”
“Well, it’s like ours, for now,” she conceded. “And I’m still happy that Miss Josie’s going to be there with us. I think she makes the best French toast ever, and she thinks my hair is pretty.”
“Reason enough to love her, right there.” He settled a dry look on his romance-loving daughter. “Do not try and set me up with Josie or anyone else, okay? I can find my own dates.”
“Then how come you never do?” She sent him a look of frank appraisal as she fastened her belt. “Dad, it’s not that hard. You ask a lady out, you dance and you fall in love. It happens all the time on TV.”
“I suppose that’s true.” But life didn’t copy television. Not generally. “Let things happen as they will, okay? Don’t force God’s hand. And for a quick change of subject, Pawpaw and Memaw are coming to visit next week. They want to see you, and school’s almost over, so they’re going to hang out and visit.”
“I can’t believe this!” Addie slapped a hand to her forehead. “I was just thinking that I wanted to see Memaw and Pawpaw, and this happens! Oh that will be so wonderful, won’t it Dad?”
“It sure will.” He wanted it to be fun, and he was pretty sure it would be, on her end. But if his father pushed like he had at Christmas, criticizing everything Jacob did, then they’d have to have a frank discussion, and Jacob knew his father well. He didn’t like being called out. Maybe...just maybe...something would come along to keep his father’s brain engaged and let Jacob off the hook but for the life of him, Jacob couldn’t imagine what that might be.
* * *
Cissy Gallagher crossed the room and knelt in front of Josie. She grasped one of Josie’s hands while Kimberly thrust tissues at both of them. “You have a daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, baby.” By the time mother and daughter were able to speak coherently, half a box of tissues had disappeared. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped you. You’re my daughter, my child, Josie. I’d do anything for you.”
“I’d messed up so badly before, and you begged me not to go.”
“But that was years before this happened. Didn’t you think all that time being straight and true would have regained my trust?”
Josie shrugged. “I can’t say I was thinking all that clearly, except on one detail. I wanted my daughter to have the best chance possible to have a full, normal life as someone’s cherished child. And with the circumstances of her conception, I would either be living a lie or telling a child the heinous truth no child should hear. Plus—” she paused, took a deep breath and faced her mother “—I didn’t think anyone would believe me. You guys knew how badly I’d messed up at Fredonia. I’d betrayed your trust then, and got the whole town talking about the wild Gallagher girl. I didn’t want any of that to sift down to Addie.”
“So what’s changed?” Cissy asked. “Because I can see in your face that something’s gone terribly wrong.”
Josie explained what had happened earlier that week. “I’ve got Drew looking into Jacob Weatherly’s history, and Cruz has a friend who specializes in adoptions. She’s looking into the original transfer from me to the O’Neills. I think they lied on their application,” she explained. “I don’t think they ever intended to stay together, and my request of this agency, a request the agency honored, was to have my daughter placed with a happily married couple. They had to sign an affidavit to that effect. I’ve got nothing against single-parent families,” she added. “But with such a big decision in front of me, I wanted the odds in the baby’s favor. Now it appears Addie’s adoptive father was out of the picture within days of the finalized adoption. As if he couldn’t wait to get out and move on.”
Kate put one hand over Josie’s. “That could make the original adoption null and void, couldn’t it?” When Josie grimaced, Kate patted her hand. “And now you’re caught in the middle. You gave her life, you then went and saved her life, the most wonderful act any mother can do, and now here she is, with the wrong person...but she’s happy, so how do you upset an apple cart that seems to be successfully carting around piles of apples?”
“That’s a horrible analogy, Mom. But apt.” Kimberly held up one finger. “First of all, I can’t believe you never told me any of this, except that I honestly get it.” When Josie made a doubtful face, Kimberly waved it off. “No, I do. I was kind of a jerk in Nashville, and there’s a history there I’d prefer we leave hidden forever, and the fiancé dumping me before I moved back here was only the tip of that iceberg of stupidity. So I probably understand far more than you know, but here’s the thing. It’s May. He’s going to be here with Addie until after the grand opening July 1, and that leaves you time to digest the facts and then decide what to do. Can you talk to him about this? Like face-to-face, grown-up style?”
Could she? Josie hesitated. “I think I could, eventually. If I do it now, he’s going to think I took the restaurant deal because of Addie.”
“Well...” Kimberly’s frank expression called her out on that.
“Okay, I did, but I’d have taken it anyway, once I calmed down and got over the fact that big business can just swoop in and kick the little people aside. So maybe in a week or two?”
“He’ll know you better. You’ll know him better. You said he’s single?” Kate asked.
“I only know that because Addie tried to get him to ask me out when we first met.”
“Solves everything from my vantage point,” said Kate, and when Josie shot her a dark look, Kate ticked off her fingers. “You get a nice guy with a great job, you get your daughter, and a restaurant. Triple win, Josephine June.”
Josie leaned closer. “Is this before or after I explain to him that the original adoption decree might be fraudulent and that he might have to give up custody of the child he so clearly loves?”
“When will Cruz know something?”
Josie shook her head. “He was having the adoption attorney go all out, but I don’t know how long that might take. It’s an awkward situation, and in the end, if I declare myself, I end up doing the very thing I never wanted to do. Mess up my kid with the wretchedness of ho
w she came into this world.”
“What does she look like?” Cissy leaned closer, and Kimberly answered before Josie could get a chance.
“You.”
“Me?” Cissy lifted both brows. “I had three children, and not one of them resembled me at all. All three look like their dad, God rest his soul, although Josie got a little of my red in her hair color.”
“This one has it,” Josie told her. “She’s the image of you. Copper hair, deep green eyes, just a few freckles, fair skin and that same oval face. She looks like a Morgan, Mom. Like you and your sisters.”
“What is her name?”
“Adeline. He calls her Addie.”
“I have to see her. Can I come by, Josie? Sometime when she’ll be around? I’d just like to see her for myself.”
“Cissy.” Kate’s voice held caution. “Is that the best idea?”
“Would you do it if the situation were reversed?” Cissy asked, and Kate nodded instantly.
“Absolutely. I’d probably be arrested for stalking. The fact that I’d do it doesn’t make it the best idea, though.”
“We could all stop by to pick Josie up to go shopping for baby things, and then it doesn’t look like a setup.”
“Fiendishly clever idea.” Kate pounced on Kimberly’s words like a cat on a mouse. “Then we can discuss the possibilities while we pick out baby things.”
“You won’t say anything? Any of you?” Josie scanned the three women. Each one solemnly shook her head. “Then all right. I want you to see her. To see how perfectly amazing and beautiful and wonderful she is.”
“How about Saturday? You can go over there to check on kitchen things and we’ll stop by to pick you up.”
Now that she’d told them, how could she prevent them from seeing Addie in person? “And you’ll say nothing?”
“Not a word.”
“And no tears?” She aimed a strict look at her mother, and Cissy winced.
“Not until we’re in the car. Okay?”
It would have to be, because just telling these three women the truth had relieved the ache of carrying this burden alone. “And then we’ll talk in the car. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Josie, I’m taking tomorrow off so you and I can pack up your things together,” Cissy decided. “Now, I know you’re perfectly capable of doing all of this yourself...”
Josie bit her tongue and let her mother speak.
“But I want to help you. I need to help you. And I want to make sure you understand that I will always, always be here for you. All right?”
How silly she’d been to think her mother wouldn’t believe her. She saw that now, looking into Cissy’s face. “Yes, Mom. Absolutely.”
“Good.” She grabbed Josie and hugged her long and hard. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And Josie?”
“Yes?” Josie had a good three inches on her mother, so she looked down into the very same eyes she’d passed on to her daughter.
“I love you.”
“I know.” She whispered the words, thick with emotion again. “I know, Mom.”
Chapter Seven
Jacob parked his SUV on the apartment side of the old Bayou Barbecue the next morning, two spots down from Josie’s beat-up Jeep. The back door of the hatch was open and half-full. Boxes and bags were stuffed into every backseat nook and cranny. She’d obviously started early and stuck with the job.
The May sun shone brightly on tiny leaves, newly unfurled. The late-day forecast promised rain, but for the moment, warmth prevailed. He got to the door just in time to swing it open as Josie approached from inside the apartment. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She looked surprised to see him, and maybe a little uncomfortable? He hoped not, and was kind of surprised that it would bother him. But it did. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I had an hour between conference calls, and I wanted to see if you needed help loading things. Your timeline sounded somewhat ambitious yesterday afternoon, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to hit the ground running. At least, not alone.”
She set the bundle of hangers into the passenger seat, then faced him. “My mom’s coming over shortly. But thank you.”
“I’ve got an hour and empty hands. I’d like to help, Josie.”
She lifted her eyes to his, and then she stood there, holding his gaze, as if she couldn’t let go, or maybe because she didn’t want to let go. And neither did he.
She broke the connection by forcing herself to turn away. “Then yes, welcome aboard. I didn’t think there was this much to move, but I realized this morning that I’m a closet stuffer. I’m actually donating everything you see in the back of the Jeep because it’s stuff I’ll either never wear or use in my lifetime. Which means there are benefits to being forced out of my comfort zone.”
“I’ve found that, too.” He followed her inside, and when she pointed to a stack of blue plastic totes, he lifted two of them. “The more comfortable I am, the less inspired I seem to be, so having multiple projects in various venues helped sharpen my abilities. Although, I’m not against finding a place to put roots down now, with Addie needing to be in elementary school. She deserves a chance to have a home, although I’m not exactly the picket-fence type.”
“The very image is frightening, isn’t it?”
He laughed because that was about the last thing he expected her to say. “Most women I’ve known would not agree.”
“Well, don’t get me wrong.” Josie picked up a tote and followed him outside. “I like the idea of having a home someday, just not in a neighborhood where talk runs rampant. I’ve always thought a log cabin, up in the woods, overlooking the lake would be wonderful. Part of the community, but separate enough to do my own thing.”
“Self-provided autonomy.”
“Yes. I love people, but I like my privacy, too.”
“Did you have a plan about where to put these?” he asked, referring to the totes as they drew close to the parking lot. “Because there isn’t an inch of room in your car unless you want them next to the stuff you’re donating.”
A full-size sedan pulled in right then. It swung around and backed up to the sidewalk. The engine shut down as the trunk popped open. “My mother has perfect timing, it seems.”
“Can’t argue that.” He settled the totes into the trunk, then arranged hers alongside as a small woman with red-gold hair climbed out of the front seat.
“Mom, this is Jacob Weatherly. He’s overseeing the establishment of the Bayou at the Eastern Shore Inn. Jacob, this is my mother, Cissy Gallagher.”
He put out his hand, and she took it with a quick smile. “How nice to meet you, Jacob. I’m quite excited about the possibility this affords, to have the Bayou be part of the inn. It’s a marvelous opportunity for year-round business, and that’s always a consideration on the lakeshore. How did you handle your first winter in Grace Haven?”
“Surprisingly well,” he told her as they walked back toward the apartment. She looked nothing like Josie. Her coloring, face and body type were completely different, but she spoke with a similar intonation. “I was raised in Georgia, and I’ve done numerous jobs up and down the coast, but I have to say I found the winter refreshing up here. Clean, brisk and cold.” He shrugged. “It suited. And my daughter was enchanted by things like sledding, building snowmen, making maple snow with her teacher in school, and while learning to skate was an epic fail for both of us, I’d be willing to try it again if the chance arises.”
“I’ve always enjoyed the respite of winter,” Cissy told him as she picked up a stack of small boxes. “It’s a regrouping time for me. When spring hits, I can’t wait to jump into projects.”
“So many projects, so little time.” Josie said the words softly, and her mother laughed out loud.
“My daughter knows me well. I bite off
more than I can chew, and beg help as needed.”
“But she cooks for all of us when we descend on her to help with whatever the current project is, so no one really minds.”
“Did you get your love for cooking from your mother?”
Josie set two smaller plastic totes onto the larger ones in the trunk. “My mom loves to cook, so yes. But my father was the kitchen artist, the mad scientist who worked all day and then made a tremendous mess of the kitchen at night. But his methods taught me to attack recipes and results from alternative directions, so between the two of them, it worked.”
“Does your mother love to cook, Jacob?” Cissy asked as she stowed a handful of filled plastic bags in and around bigger items.
“My mother is not exactly ‘kitchen-friendly,’” he admitted. “My dad ran a chain of restaurants, and my mother’s life was filled with other things. We had a cook. And a maid.”
“Downton Abbey. Be still my heart.” Josie pretended to swoon, and he laughed.
“Not to that level, but yes, it was different from what I know now. And that’s all right. I like Addie to know that work is a good thing, that effort’s important. She likes to cook with me, although we don’t do a lot of that on school nights. On the weekend, though.” He closed the full trunk and dusted his hands together. “We’ve been known to destroy a kitchen in our quest for delicious meals. And cupcakes. I can handle cupcakes, and she loves to put on the frosting—a lot of frosting,” he admitted. “I probably should draw a line on it, but I can’t. Although I always get stuck with the end-of-project chores.”
“The joy of cleanup.”
He made a face. “She opts out of that quickly. There’s always a doll that needs feeding or a picture to color. She’s pretty game to help out in most situations, though, so that’s solid behavior for her age. And I only know this because I have every child development book and well-reviewed parenting tome on the planet. The ones in English, that is. When I ended up being a surprise dad, I wanted to do everything I could to not mess things up.”
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