My face turned red and the embarrassment I felt caused me to want to fuss at Leo, but I stopped myself, smiling and taking a deep breath.
I knew he would never drop his precious oranges on purpose. My thoughts were confirmed when I glanced at him and saw his pitiful expression.
"Uh-oh," he repeated.
Poor thing, it sounded more like a question than a statement. He was asking me if everything would be okay and if I was mad.
"It's okay," I said.
I didn't know where to begin, so I started with the orange that was still dangling in the bag. I pulled it out from under his leg, straightening the bag and making sure the remaining orange was securely in the bottom of it before beginning my search for the other ones.
"We'll just find them and put them all back into the bag."
"What if they all dirty?"
"They're not," I said. "We'll wash them when we get home, anyway."
"And, I don't even eat the outside," he said.
"Yeah, you don't."
My agreement was somewhat absentminded as I stooped to continue picking up the fallen oranges—two, three, four… I placed the ones that were nearby into the bag before straightening to look around.
One had gone off to the right and was now at the base of a display of apples. I left Leo in the cart and took three steps down the aisle to retrieve it.
When I made my way back to the buggy, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that there was a man heading my way.
I saw that he was holding two oranges as he approached, but it took me a second to realize that they were mine.
Then, several things hit me at once.
First and foremost, this guy was extremely good looking—handsome, easy on the eyes. He was a little taller than my dad with a slender but athletic build. He had shaggy, surfer-like hair with sparse facial hair growing along his jaw. He looked like someone who would go rock-climbing or cave diving, or even treasure hunting. He seemed like the adventurous type. It had been a long time since I had noticed a man's appearance, and he happened to be exactly my taste.
My face was red and I was already breathless from the ordeal with the oranges. I did my best to smile as I held the bag open, letting him know where he could place them.
"I believe these came from your direction," he said. "I assumed they were—"
"They're mine," I said, cutting him off. "Leo's actually. Thank you for bringing them over."
"Are you Leo?" he asked, looking straight at my son.
Leo nodded, his big eyes blinking at the man.
"You like oranges?" he asked.
Leo nodded again.
"Yes sir," I said, wanting him to answer out loud.
"Yes sir."
"He loves oranges," I said. "That's the only reason we came to the store."
"Oranges are a great reason to go to the store," the guy said, smiling at Leo.
He put his hand out for Leo to give him a hi-five. The gesture was familiar enough to Leo that he smiled and did it without hesitation.
"See ya, Leo." He looked at me and held his hand up to hi-five me as well. "See ya Leo's mom and Leo's bag of oranges."
Leo giggled at that statement as I slapped the guy's hand. We smiled at each other and just like that, he turned to walk back in the direction from which he came. Leo wiggled with delight as I placed the bag of oranges on the seat next to him again. I showed him where the bag opened.
"You can look at them, but don't pick up the bag, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed. "Sorry."
"It's okay," I said. "It's no biggie."
I turned to grab a box of spinach off of the shelf since that's what I had been doing before, but I was a little shaken, so I ended up choosing a bag of sweet bell peppers as well.
"What's no biggie mean?" Leo asked as I put the veggies into the cart.
"No biggie just means that it wasn't a big deal that the oranges dropped. It means I'm okay with it. I don't want you to do it on purpose or anything, but it doesn't matter to me that you spilled them. I'm not mad about it."
"No biggie is not mad?" he asked.
"Yeah, it's another way to say 'not mad', I guess."
The guy who had handed us the oranges walked by again just as Leo and I were having that conversation. He was walking like someone who was on a mission, but he did glance our way wearing a thoughtful smile like he overheard a little of what we were saying and approved of it.
I wished I knew more about this guy.
I wished I at least knew his name.
He had been such a gentleman—bringing back my oranges and then making a little polite, funny conversation. Not to mention, he was absolutely gorgeous.
Everything happened too fast, and before I knew it, he was gone.
"Mom, can I have one of those?"
Leo's question brought me from my trance. I followed his hand to realize that he was pointing across the aisle at some pineapples. "What are those?" I asked, since it was habit for me to try to teach him and make him ask for things by name. I was constantly parenting him, but I tried to do it in a low voice.
"A prickly pear," he answered with confidence. I grinned as I took a pineapple from the shelf and put it into the basket. There was a pineapple at my dad's house the last time we were there, and Dad had called it a prickly pear as he was cutting it just to tease Leo. I should have known it would stick with him.
"It's a pineapple," I said. "A prickly pear is its own thing. It's a totally different fruit."
"Can we get one of those, too?" he asked.
I glanced over my shoulder, realizing that I wasn't a hundred percent sure what a real prickly pear looked like.
"We have enough for today," I said. "Maybe next time."
I kept my eyes open for the handsome surfer on our way out, but I didn't see him. It was one of those times where I was disappointed with myself for not having the bravery or presence of mind to make more conversation with him. But really, it probably would have been weird for me to just stand there and strike up a long conversation with a random stranger at a grocery store. It was especially awkward for me because most people assumed I was married when they saw me with Leo.
It was actually a positive thing for me to realize that I even cared about that guy at all. I appreciated noticing a man and feeling attracted to him. It was a refreshing change of pace.
Even if I never, ever saw that handsome stranger again (which would likely be the case) at least I felt that moment of attraction. It was a tiny glimmer of hope, a taste of innocence lost, and I was thankful for it.
Chapter 4
The following May
(Six months later)
The first part of my course at school was wax techniques, and afterward, we moved right into metal arts.
It was a non-degree program that lasted two terms or roughly twenty weeks. The hours were long, and between doing that and the ten-or-so hours a week I put into my Fiona act, I was basically working a full-time job.
My parents and sisters were happy to pitch in and watch Leo, and on the rare occasion that they couldn't, I had a babysitter who I trusted. But I missed Leo, and planned on sitting out for the summer and fall terms so I could contemplate what I wanted to do with my newfound (but still limited) jewelry skills.
I was almost certain that I would take another course at some point. There was so much more to jewelry design than I ever dreamed. I definitely would have never imagined I would enjoy taking classes so much.
While I still wasn't altogether sure exactly what my goals were with jewelry, I had built good relationships with my classmates and teachers, and I had a lot of fun in the creative environment.
The students closest to me knew I was Alec Stone's daughter, but we never talked about it. And we didn't hang out after school, either. We enjoyed each other's company at school, but we never made plans afterward. We were there for such long hours, anyway, and I was always anxious to get home to Leo.
I was nearing the end of my studies, and
I was simultaneously happy and sad that my course would be over soon. I contemplated my feelings on all of it as we waited in the studio that Monday morning.
It was five minutes after nine. Our professor, Mr. Lee, was never, ever late, so we all figured out what was going on. His wife was due to have a baby any day. We were told that once this happened we would have a substitute for the remainder of the term.
My friend, Marisol, had been sitting next to me but she got up to peek into the hallway.
"I didn't see anything on his social media," she said, coming back to her station.
Our friends, Brendan and Mary Jane, were sitting close enough to hear what she had said.
"I wonder if we get the day off if he doesn't show," Brendan asked.
"He'll show," Mary Jane said. "And if not, Noah Case will be here. He's the one taking over the class. I'm totally stoked about that."
"No case of what?" Brendan asked. He laughed at his own joke. "Get it? No case, like Noah Case."
Marisol scoffed and Mary Jane shot him a look of utter disappointment. Brendan made a face at them for not thinking he was funny.
"Are you eight, Brendan?" Mary Jane asked.
"I think I'm a ten," Brendan said, puffing out his chest.
"Years old," Mary Jane said. "I was asking if you were eight-years-old."
Brendan made another face at her, and while all that was going on Marisol said, "I heard Noah Case was a ten."
Mary Jane stopped looking at Brendan so she could respond to Marisol's statement. "Callie said the same thing," Mary Jane said. "I don't know where she saw him because his Insta feed and his website only have pictures of his work. Even his videos only show his hands."
"Maybe Callie met him," I said.
"Maybe she was just going off his hands," Brendan said with a shrug.
"All I know is he's amazing," Mary Jane added. "His work is so polished and technical. I'm excited that he's gonna be here regardless if he's a ten or not."
"I liked his old stuff better," Brendan said. "He was more artistic back then. Remember that butterfly necklace he did with the black onyx? So classic."
These types of conversations were fairly typical around here. My classmates all followed and looked into to certain jewelers. I looked at, appreciated, and drew inspiration from other people's designs, but I never kept up with the work and styles of specific jewelers. It had nothing to do with a lack of respect on my end—it was just the way my mind worked. I could also know a song by heart and not know who wrote it or even who sang it. Maybe that was a character flaw, but it was an undeniable fact about myself. I had been studying jewelry at this school for five months and I had no idea who Noah Case was or that he was supposed to take over the class when Mr. Lee left.
We were all surprised a few minutes later when Mr. Lopez (one of the school's administrators) came into the classroom with an older man. The gentleman was carrying a small, leather portfolio. He seemed like he was roughly my dad's age, maybe a little older. He was handsome enough, but I was almost sure he wasn't the "ten" Marisol and Mary Jane had been expecting.
"All right everybody, as you probably guessed, Mr. Lee's wife is in labor. They went to the hospital this morning, and we should have news of a new addition to the Lee family sometime today. Noah Case will be here tomorrow, but until then, it's my honor and pleasure to leave you in the capable hands of his father, Carl."
"Is Carl a metalsmith?"
The question came from the back of the room… a girl named Willow.
"He is," Mr. Lopez said. "A very capable one like his son, Noah. He'll fill in for the day. Mr. Lee said you should all be working on final projects. I’m confident that Mr. Case will be able to handle any questions you might have." He turned to look at Carl and gave him a slight bow. "Thank you for being here," he said before he headed for the door. "I'll leave you to it. You know where to reach me should you need anything."
Carl gave him a nod then turned to scan the room. He set his portfolio on the desk and took a deep breath, folding his hands in front of his chest and giving us a smile like he was trying to figure out where to begin.
"I've, uh, never taught in a classroom before," he admitted. "I guess I'll start by introducing myself. Mr. Lopez told you that I'm Noah Case's father. I'm also a jeweler, as he mentioned, so Noah came by his profession honestly. I'll get into more of that and share my story as we go along. Unlike Noah, who went out on his own, I spent my entire career as one of the many designers of a nationwide brand. Between Noah and myself, I think we have quite a bit of experience and knowledge that I'm sure we can share with you."
"So, you're gonna be here more than just today?"
Again, I knew who was speaking without even turning around. Willow. She was the most outspoken person in the class—often interrupting or oversharing.
"Yes, I am going to be here more than just today," Carl said with a patient smile aimed at Willow. "When Noah was approached with filling in for your teacher, he asked if I would share the responsibility with him, and I agreed. We'll be here together for the next few weeks." He smiled. "My son's the one in charge," he added. "I'm just here for reinforcements. Mr. Lee told us you were working on some final projects, so I'll help you with those today and Noah will be here to take over tomorrow."
He focused on someone who was sitting behind me. "Yes?" he asked to a person who must've had their hand raised.
"Do you have any other kids, and are they jewelers also?"
Of course, it was Willow who was asking another question.
"I have a daughter named Gina who's a home maker and mother of three. And no, neither Gina nor my wife, Tammy, are jewelers. It was just Noah who followed in my footsteps. He didn't even want to do it at first. He wanted to be a pilot or a fisherman, or something really exciting."
"But you managed to talk him into doing metalsmithing?" Willow asked.
Carl smiled. He was relaxed, leaning casually against the front of Mr. Lee's desk. "It wasn't really me who talked him into it. He had picked up a lot over the years. He had a good foundation from watching and listening to me for so long, but it wasn't until he—" Carl paused with a smile, reconsidering. "I'll let Noah tell you his own story," he said. "I hate to say too much. I'm sure he'll tell you how he got started."
"What should we call you?" Willow asked. "If both of your names are Mr. Case, what should we call you to get your attention?"
Carl paused for a second, looking at Willow with a kind but curious grin. Sadly, she would not take it as any kind of hint. I knew this from being in class with her all term. Willow was always very vocal.
"You can call me Carl and my son Noah. I don't mind you calling me by my first name, and I know for a fact that Noah wouldn't mind that either. Are any of you familiar with his work?"
The whole class erupted in a chorus of murmured agreement, most of them raising their hands.
"I tried to do a workshop with him a few years ago, but it sold out." It wasn't Willow who spoke that time. It was an older woman named Jeanie.
"Same thing happened to me," one of the guys said.
Carl nodded. "He hasn't done one of those in a while."
"It's been a couple of years," Callie said. "I've been on the lookout for one. Do you know if he's going to do any more in the future? I can see a little of his studio in the background of his videos, and I'd just love to tour it and see his set up. He's just such a great artist."
"I want to see what he looks like," Mary Jane said, speaking up from beside me.
That statement drew Carl's attention our way. He didn't know who it had been that spoke, and he scanned our faces. He gave me a friendly hint of a smile when our eyes met. I felt the urge to point to Mary Jane so that he would know I hadn't been the one to say it, but before I could, someone else spoke.
"He looks like that dude who plays Thor," one of the guys said, causing Carl to look away again. "At least from the photo I saw of him one time," the guy added, shrugging.
"He's handsome lik
e his old man," Carl said, causing us to laugh.
He turned and retrieved his portfolio off of the desk, tilting it on its side so that he could fish around in it. I was watching him as he pulled out a tablet and begin touching the screen.
"You'll meet him tomorrow, but I've got a photo of him on my iPad. My daughter took it recently. He made his mother a necklace for her birthday, and we got a picture of them together." Carl touched the screen the whole time he was speaking, and then suddenly, he smiled and turned around the tablet so we could all see the photograph.
Mary Jane and at least one other woman in the room gasped audibly. I heard people say several things all at one time like, "I told you he looked like Thor," and "Aww, they're so cute."
I, however, just sat there in stunned silence.
I couldn’t take in anything they were saying. Someone could have announced that we were in the middle of a fire drill and I would have just sat there and stared at the screen of that iPad.
Oranges.
Whole Foods.
My heart beat faster as I gawked at the screen, knowing it was the same person Leo and I had met that day in the produce aisle. This was the man from the grocery store—the one who had rescued Leo's oranges. He had hi-fived us. I still remembered our encounter with him like it had happened yesterday. How long had that been? It was the day we got back from my parents' wedding.
I thought back to that time, and it crossed my mind that it had been during the holidays. I instinctually sat up straighter and leaned toward the front of the class, trying to get a better look at the tablet. I felt like I was seeing things.
I heard talking and laughter and I realized everyone around me was participating in some discussion about the photograph. I smiled and looked around, but I had no idea what anyone had been saying. I was so lost in thought, trying to remember my encounter with the man at the store that I must have missed a few exchanges. I tuned in as Carl turned off the iPad and stashed it face-down on the table behind him.
Treat You Better (The Family Stone Book 3) Page 3