by Jamie Beck
“My best student.” He crossed his arms. “And my best teacher.”
She sighed. “You look happy. Things must be going well with Colby.”
Colby. Even muddied and sweaty from working in her mother’s garden, she’d looked sweeter than his croustades.
Her grateful expression tonight had made him feel better than when he’d won his James Beard Award. As far as amends went, his tiny gesture with her mom wasn’t much. It would take hundreds of those efforts, but eventually the cumulative effect would make Colby’s life better.
Sadly, nothing could make up for everything his silence had stolen from her.
“So far, so good.” He sat at the kitchen table where he’d grown up, and stretched out his legs. He’d left here at eighteen, still such a boy. Life since then had hardened him into a man. “Leslie asked me to say hello, by the way.”
“I rarely run into her, now that all you kids are grown and out of the house.” His mom folded the dishrag over the sink and stared blankly out the kitchen window. Like earlier this evening, Joe’s specter danced in the shadows.
Being in this house had been tough for Alec ever since his brother died. Photographs and memorabilia were scattered everywhere. The oldest ones showcased two close brothers with their arms slung over each other’s shoulders, or Joe sitting on his shoulders. But as they’d grown up, they were more often photographed sitting across from each other—always separated by some invisible force field—the pictures reflecting a new reality. Those photos taunted him, reminding him of how much time they’d wasted on one-upmanship.
“A lot has changed since then,” his mom continued. She turned, her expression contemplative. “I’m grateful you’re staying in town, but it’s awkward to feel indebted to the Cabots. Are you okay with it?”
“I’m fine.” Colby reminded him of Joe and Mark, but not in the way his mother presumed. She had no idea of the guilt Alec carried around like a pack mule.
Her aging eyes took on a cloudy, faraway look, something he noticed with more frequency since Joe died. His brother’s death had been a tragedy, but for his mom, Alec’s leaving had dealt another blow. She’d been stuck here with no one to turn to for comfort, because her husband sure couldn’t offer any. Anger and bitterness had made that man’s already-insensitive nature as impenetrable as a coat of armor.
“Do you still have a crush on Colby?” Her gaze refocused on him.
“What?” Alec sat up straighter, his body warming.
“You heard me. She might’ve palled around here with Joe most of the time, but you’d watched her every move whenever she came by. She was also the only one you didn’t yell at for sneaking licks of batter when you were experimenting.”
Alec scratched his neck. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“You’re avoiding the question, which tells me you still like her.”
“Likes who?” His dad’s voice shocked them both. When had he sneaked into the house? And how the hell did he manage it?
At six feet two inches and with 220 pounds of firm muscle for a man of his age, Alec’s dad wasn’t normally light-footed. His chestnut hair—the only trait they shared—had its fair share of gray highlights. Deep grooves in his forehead and bracketing his mouth always gave his father a grim appearance. Of course, the lack of good humor and affection didn’t help, either.
“No one,” Alec said at the same time his mother said, “Colby.”
His father barely acknowledged Alec as he passed by on his way to the refrigerator. He retrieved a beer and popped the tab. “I can’t believe you can work for Colby, let alone like her. If it weren’t for her and that son of a bitch she married—”
“Frank,” his mom said, “you always liked Colby.”
“That was before. Things changed . . .” Alec’s dad waved her off. “You’ll accept anything that keeps him in town, but don’t expect me to.”
“Dad, how was happy hour?” Alec diverted his father’s attention to prevent his parents from arguing. “Mom said you went out with Craig.”
“He’s thinking of moving to Los Angeles to be near his daughter. She just had a baby, and Craig’s wife wants to be closer to their grandkid.” His dad shook his head, apparently unable to comprehend his old partner on the force embracing family or change or life. He’d given up on all that when Joe died.
“I’m jealous.” His mother then smiled at Alec. “I can’t wait to be a grandmother one day.”
Oh, brother.
His father rolled his eyes. “Well, this one’s not going to meet any women if he’s always in this kitchen with you.”
And there it was. The “mommy’s boy” put-down he’d heard for much of his life. Maybe he should take comfort in the fact that some things never changed. Not even the way his dad grinned after those remarks, as if this kind of teasing was funny.
“It could take a while, Mom.” Alec recovered from the swipe. “My hours make it tough. Working nights, weekends, and holidays. Not exactly a profession for a family-oriented man.”
Then again, Colby would be sharing those hours. It made them uniquely compatible in that one aspect. Too bad his conscience wouldn’t let him pursue her while keeping his secret about Mark. He had no choice if he hoped to do everything he’d come home to do, even if his secret ate away at him bit by bit each day.
“Excuses are like assholes; everybody has one. Work isn’t the problem. The truth is that you’d have to break out of your shell to go after a woman. Not exactly your strong suit, is it?” His dad chugged from his beer can, crushed it, and tossed it in the trash.
Alec could recount all the ways he’d toughened up. Could mention he wasn’t that same shy teen his dad never took the time to know. But his dad wouldn’t believe him, so the argument would only put his mother in the middle. Alec clamped down on his temper, knowing that if he wanted a relationship with a woman, he could have one, no matter what his dad thought.
Plenty of women had found Alec and his success very attractive, a lesson Joe had unfortunately learned the hard way the night before his fatal hike.
Alec mentally recoiled from that memory when, for the first time that evening, his father looked him squarely in the eye. All traces of humor, twisted or otherwise, were gone. “But that’s fine with me, ’cause I don’t want any Cabot babies in this house.”
Time for another change of subject, because he wasn’t about to argue with his dad about his nonexistent relationship with Colby. “Want a croustade?”
“A croustade?” His dad shook his head derisively and laughed. “A croustade.”
Still, he took one before stalking into the family room and turning the TV volume up to full blare.
Alec unclenched his fists, which had been balled up on his thighs.
“Don’t pay attention to him.” His mother patted his shoulder.
How often had Alec heard that advice . . .
“It’s time for me to go.” Alec rose. “I guess Dad won’t want to come to the soft opening in a couple of weeks, but will you? Maybe bring a friend or two?”
She pressed her lips together, brows raised. He’d put her on the spot, but he wanted her support when he officially returned to the local restaurant scene.
“Sure, honey.” She patted his arm. “I can’t wait to hear everyone rave about your food.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
Instead of going directly to his car, he wandered through the darkening backyard, grateful for the warm breeze. Whacking through the overgrown arborvitae, he found the path that led to the aging octagonal tree house, centered on the tree trunk, about eight feet above the ground. Although long neglected, it still appeared to be in decent shape thanks to Mr. Cabot’s and his father’s solid clapboard construction job. He smiled, remembering being seven and thinking this fort was the coolest place on earth.
Alec tested the ladder rungs before climbing inside. He used the flashlight on his phone to peek around the space that held his boyh
ood hopes and dreams.
Animals had chewed through the old quilts and mattress, but an abandoned tapestry still hung on one wall. Plastic milk crates, emptied of their old treasures, littered the floor. The clear PVC curtains they’d hung in the windows to keep rain out were missing a few panels. Colby would be horrified. She’d always kept it clean, mostly because that had been the price Hunter demanded if she wanted to hang out with them.
Closing his eyes, Alec inhaled through his nose, taking in the familiar scents that opened the floodgates to many memories. The good ones. The years when Joe had wanted to be part of Alec’s life.
“Why can’t I stay?” Joe whined.
“Because you’re too young.”
“I’m in middle school now.” Joe straightened his spine, as if trying to compete with Alec’s height.
“Barely. Besides, Hunter and I have our own plans.” Alec tossed his sleeping bag on the mattress. “I’ll sleep out here with you some other night, Joe.”
Joe’s frown softened. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Alec tossed Joe a peanut-butter-and-fudge brownie, which Joe shoved into his mouth in almost one bite.
“One more?” he managed to say between chews.
“Only if you go home now.”
“Okay.” Joe held out his hand, and then, with a little sigh, turned to leave. At the top of the ladder, he said, “Next weekend is my turn, right?”
“Sure.” Alec sighed, anticipating a sleepless night in the tree house with Joe and his thousand questions. “Now go home.”
Naturally, Alec had taken his brother’s love for granted. He’d shooed him away as often as he’d given in. What he’d give now for a second chance. To turn back time and clear the air rather than let his wounded pride drive him to twist the knife.
Clearing his throat, Alec climbed back down the ladder, guilt cinched around him like a straitjacket. On his way back along the path, he heard faint music and other noises coming from Leslie Cabot’s. Veering to his right, he pushed through the shrubs leading to her yard.
In the distant glow of the back-porch lights, he saw Colby finishing her mother’s garden fence.
“Need help?”
“Oh!” She jumped. “Jeez, you scared me. What were you doing back there?”
“Checking out the tree house.”
Her face lit, and with her high ponytail, she looked almost as young as when they’d actually hung out back there. “Really? I haven’t been in ages.”
“We’ve been replaced by a family of squirrels.”
She laughed, lifting his mood. He’d always loved the sound of her laughter and the twinkle in those tipped-up eyes. “I hope they’ve enjoyed our little haven as much as we did.”
She blushed then, and he wondered if she might be remembering that old kiss. Probably not. It had only counted for one or two minutes among the thousands they’d spent there. Insignificant to her, anyway.
Her flush faded as her expression turned melancholy, and he suspected she thought of Joe.
“Too bad adults don’t have tree houses, too,” he said.
“Maybe I should’ve named my restaurant The Tea House,” she teased.
“A place for grown-up dreams.” They stared at each other, her face filling with approval, and he suspected she, too, missed the comfort that place of lost innocence had provided. Alec reached for the fencing. “Let me help.”
Colby paused before handing him the wire cutters. “You know, I’d worried things between us would be awkward, but you’ve gone out of your way to make it easy. Now it sort of feels like old times with us.”
If reminding her of old times made her smile like that, he’d find a million other ways to be the friend she remembered fondly.
Chapter Five
“Sorry I’m late.” Gentry waltzed into A CertainTea and lobbed her brown leather Miu Miu satchel on the table where Colby had been impatiently waiting.
At five feet ten inches tall, Gentry commanded attention. Factor in her auburn hair and green eyes, and no one could deny her sister’s striking, if not beautiful, appearance. Her quirky fashion sense—today in a heavily patterned, short layered skirt and an intricate mesh top—only enhanced her eye-catching looks. The outfit looked like something she’d cobbled together from a secondhand store, but it probably bore a Gaultier label.
Gentry glanced around the space she hadn’t once visited during the renovation. “Looks nice. Love the gray floors and all the taupe and cream accents. The wood beams and live plants are a nice touch. Classy yet Zen.”
“Thanks. I’m shooting for hip yet pretty enough to be a wedding venue.” Colby particularly loved the floor-to-ceiling retractable glass doors that offered guests beautiful views of the lake.
“You nailed it.” Gentry collapsed into one of the leather-covered chairs. “So why’d you call me here?”
Colby held her breath. Here goes nothing. “I need your help.”
“My help?” Gentry’s disbelieving smirk pricked at Colby’s conscience. “With what? Dad?”
“No, not with Dad. With all of this.” She gestured around the restaurant.
Gentry sat forward, her long legs lazily sprawled to the sides, and rested her chin on her fist, causing the dozen bangles on her arm to jangle. “How can I help?”
How indeed?
“I’m overwhelmed by everything on my plate. You know I hate social media, so I thought maybe you might take the lead on keeping the website and media pages fresh and appealing. Between your photography background and your online presence, it seems like a good fit.”
Gentry’s pretty eyes narrowed. “Did Dad put you up to this? Is this his way of keeping me busy so I don’t have time to hang out with Jake?”
Colby could lie, but she suspected Gentry would know it. Maybe if people started treating her sister like a responsible grown-up, she’d start acting like one. “Okay, yes. Dad asked me to consider it, but he didn’t force me. After thinking about it, I realized you could help. You’d do a better job than I would with using apps to drive business our way.”
Gentry sat back, lips pursed. “What about my classes?”
“We could work around those. A lot of the work could be done on your own time. I’d only need you here a few half days each week to help me with other things in the office.”
“Why are you really doing this?” Gentry cocked her head, clearly untrusting.
“I just told you; I could use help. And it would be nice to work with my sister—someone who has my back—instead of an employee who doesn’t care if I succeed or fail.” That part was true, even if Colby had exaggerated the rest. “It’ll be a nice way for us to reconnect, too. I know I haven’t been the best sister these past few years.”
Gentry’s expression softened. “It’s okay. You’ve been grieving.”
“I still could’ve been better.” Colby hated that Gentry gave her a free pass. If anything, hadn’t Mark’s suicide reinforced the dangers of not paying attention to the people you loved? “So, will you help me?”
Her sister flashed the quick, eager grin Colby remembered from the days when Gentry had desperately tagged along behind her and her teenage friends. “Okay.”
“Good.” Colby slid a report across the table. “Read this market demographics report and think about how we might best reach our target audience. Take a stab at crafting some press releases, and we’ll meet back here in a few days to discuss your ideas. Initially I’ll retain oversight just to make sure we’re on the same page in terms of the brand image, but once I’m comfortable, you can run the show.”
Gentry wrinkled her nose. “Reports are so boring.”
“But necessary. Preparation is key, okay? Promise this won’t sit on your dresser until ten minutes before we next meet.”
“I thought you trusted me to have your back.” Gentry’s smile faded.
“I do. But don’t pretend you’re not easily distracted, especially by guys. Speaking of that, what’s the deal with Jake?”
�
�What did Dad say?” Gentry’s green eyes sizzled despite the cool, clipped tone of her voice.
“He’s eager to see you settled with something, and someone, stable.”
“It’s a little late for my mom and him to start being parents, don’t you think?” Gentry stuffed the report in her bag. Before Colby could reply, her sister declared, “Jake’s great. He’s sexy, fun, independent, and he doesn’t treat me like an afterthought.”
Alec arrived before Colby could further explore Gentry’s motives.
“Good morning,” he said, gaze falling on Colby.
Such a handsome face. The stray thought rattled Colby. Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed because he’d become distracted by her sister.
“Gentry.” His eyes widened. “It’s been a while. I can’t believe how you’ve changed.”
Colby’s body tensed when her sister gave him an appreciative once-over.
“So have you.” Gentry’s saucy smile returned. She stood and hugged Alec, subtly thrusting her ample cleavage forward, as if he might somehow miss it on his own. “The idea of working here just got a whole lot more interesting.”
“You’ll be working here?” Alec’s brows rose.
“You didn’t get my text?” Colby asked.
He grimaced and shook his head.
“Alec, charge and carry your phone!” Colby heaved a sigh.
“I’ll do better.” He turned back to Gentry. “Will you be waitressing?”
Colby knew Alec well enough to recognize the concern in his expression.
“Hell, no. Would this manicure survive carrying all those trays around?” Gentry held up a hand and wiggled her bejeweled fingers. At least she was honest.
“In the kitchen?” Alec spoke with the level of caution required to navigate a minefield.
“Ha! You do remember who my mother is, right? The only thing I can do back there is reheat leftovers.” Gentry proudly embraced her spoiled life. Then again, she didn’t know anything different. The shopping, the frequent dining out, the weekly mani-pedi—all of that was her norm.