“No?” Courtney creased her brow. “How do you see him?”
Taking a sip of her lemonade to buy herself a moment, Sheila weighed her answer. “I think he’s really funny and fun to be around.” She allowed the sly smile that tugged at her lips. “And he’s undeniably—”
“Ogle-worthy?” Courtney supplied with a girlish giggle.
Sheila joined in her mirth. “I know you can’t see it, being his sister, but, yes. He’s definitely ogle-worthy.”
Courtney paused, her expression turning serious as she stabbed her fork into her salad. “You know, this is going to sound really strange.” She allowed the bite of salad to hover over her plate. “But I had hoped you and Ben might get together.”
Sheila’s stomach did a flip that, if she’d been home in L.A., might have caused seismographic concern. “Oh...?”
“Yeah. I mean, he doesn’t do much socializing, but he really hit it off with you last year. It seemed like you two were having fun together, so I thought...” She waved away the conclusion of her sentence. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
An avalanche of emotions cascaded over Sheila, obscuring her thinking. If they’d had this conversation last summer, would things have gone differently? She struggled to find her voice. “Why didn’t you say anything about this before?”
“I don’t know.” Swallowing, Courtney studied her salad. “I guess I didn’t want you to feel pressured. Ben’s a supersweet guy, but women just can’t seem to get past his shyness. I know how great you are, and I just hoped...” Melancholy whitewashed her expression as she raked her fork through the plate of greens. “But I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She stabbed a hunk of lettuce and stuck it in her mouth, then chewed thoughtfully. After swallowing, she managed a small sincere-looking smile. “I really can’t wait to meet Kevin.”
Suddenly, Sheila felt an overwhelming need to know the truth about Stephanie. The Don Juan image she had in her head of Ben was so out of sync with the flesh-and-bone reality of him that she couldn’t go another second without knowing.
She opened her mouth to speak just as Courtney’s attention was diverted toward a flurry of activity over by the door. Sheila turned, too, as a man with shaggy hair and a Journey T-shirt instructed the two guys with cameras on their shoulders to position themselves by the door like sentries. All the crew members gravitated either to the door or out to the sidewalk. Through the window, Sheila could see the curtain of curious onlookers part for a small group of people who broke through and aimed for the entrance to the café.
A moment later, four very well-groomed people—two men and two women—entered, and an excited buzz filled the room. Sheila recognized them as an eminent cookbook author, the owner of a famous five-star Manhattan restaurant, a celebrated chef and the former host of a popular TV cooking show who was in the midst of reclaiming her career following a scandal.
As the buzz of their combined names filled the air, they made a practiced survey of the place and headed for the end of the line, which was conveniently short now that most of the people on the list had already arrived and ordered their food.
“Well,” Courtney sighed, “I guess it’s showtime.”
By the time Sheila had recomposed a quick version of her Stephanie question, Hank and Ben were on their way back to the table carrying plates and drinks. The judges made their selections quickly, then worked their way to their table as a TV crew member swooped in to surreptitiously remove its sign.
Reminding herself not to stare as the judges claimed their seats, Sheila took a bite of her lunch. With her question about Ben’s character wedged painfully in her throat, the last thing she wanted to do was eat, but it looked as though she wouldn’t have another chance to talk to Courtney alone for quite some time.
The cameras were repositioned and as soon as their red lights flashed again, Brian Leary came out of the kitchen with Andra and Janessa, who looked professional in their crisp white chef jackets. He escorted them to the judges’ table with the cameras catching their every move. In very dramatic fashion, he introduced the owners, then presented each of the four judges and their credentials. They all wore serious expressions more fitting of a jury ready to decide the fate of a couple of convicted killers than a group of pseudo celebs waiting to eat lunch, but Sheila assumed that was how they’d been directed. Still, it was a little daunting.
Courtney’s face pinched, and she set her fork down, placing both hands on her belly.
Sheila’s own stomach jolted. “Are you okay, Court?”
Courtney nodded. “Just another Braxton Hicks. I’m fine.”
“Braxton what?” Ben practically dropped a half-eaten slice of crispbread pizza onto his plate.
Sheila guessed that he had even less experience with this kind of thing than she did, and they shared a look of alarm.
Courtney’s pained expression eased, and she waved away their concern. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s like a practice contraction.”
Ben’s brow creased with a combination of amusement, confusion and apprehension. “You need to practice?”
Her demeanor turned weary. “It’s hard to explain. I’m fine, though.”
Brian escorted the owners back to the kitchen, no doubt to give their final approval of the judges’ order before releasing it for serving, and the judges carried on as if the cameras were invisible to them.
Sheila let her eyes meet Ben’s and thought about her earlier conversation with Courtney. Had she shared her hopes for them becoming a couple with him, too? He gave her a little smile as he bit into his pizza, and her heart warmed.
Courtney’s eyes darkened then, and Sheila followed her gaze to the table by the window where Mrs. Greene sat having lunch with Mr. Bloom. Blair had pulled up a chair and sat in the aisle alongside them. If she was vying to steal his affections away from Mrs. Greene, that had indeed been a blatant show of bravado.
Several minutes later, another round of whispers went up as Tawny and another café staff member came out of the kitchen, each carrying a tray with two plates. Looking a little wide-eyed, they walked through the café carrying their trays as if they held the royal jewels at a coronation.
There was a sense of forced small talk around the room as the cameras caught the reactions of the judges to their meal, and the rest of the diners tried not to watch them.
Sheila let her mind wander. Soon Courtney would have her baby, which would provide a much-needed distraction. Then both she and Ben would return to their respective homes and lives. Somehow the thought of going back to things the way they were when she left made her heart feel heavy. What was wrong with her?
After several minutes had passed, the shaggy-haired Journey fan called for a break and the camera operators relaxed. He instructed all the customers to put their forks down. “You can show a casual interest in the judging, but don’t talk or move very much.” He waved an arm as if he was used to giving this instruction and to it being obeyed without question. “Whatever you do, don’t create a distraction.”
Sheila flashed Courtney a “wow, he means business” look, and she returned a weak smile. She obediently set down her fork and rested her hands on her tummy.
Soon the director called for the cameras to roll again and tension hung thick in the air. Brian brought Andra and Janessa—sticking so close to each other it almost appeared as though the sleeves of their chef jackets had been sewn together—back out to face the judges.
Standing a few feet from the chairless side of the table, Andra and Janessa folded their hands in front of them. A hush fell over the café. This was the moment of truth.
Brian gave an overview of what each judge had ordered and invited the cookbook author, who looked considerably sterner than in the cheerful pictures on her book covers, to give her verdict.
Placing her elbows on the table, she laced her hands in front of h
erself as one of the cameramen zoomed in for a close-up. She slowly opened her mouth, drawing out the moment for as long as she reasonably could.
“I can sum up the experience of this croque-madame sandwich in one word. It was—”
“Ahhh...!”
Everyone in the room jerked their attention to Courtney, who had suddenly doubled over with both hands on her belly and had turned completely white.
Sheila put her hand on Courtney’s shoulder, aware that people all around them were leaping to their feet. “What is it, Court? A contraction?”
“Call Adam.” She barely got the words out through a raspy groan. “Tell him to meet us at the hospital.”
Sheila grabbed her phone from her purse and fumbled to bring up Adam’s number as Ben and their dad helped Courtney to her feet. Blair’s voice carried above the suddenly talkative crowd, saying something about this being a first for their show.
Adrenaline coursed through Sheila’s body as she relayed Courtney’s message to a suddenly wide-awake Adam, then grabbed her purse and hurried to catch up with the Jacobs family.
She said a quick prayer as they all exited the café. Courtney had been wrong before. This was the real “showtime.”
Chapter 8
Nervous excitement vibrated through the air in the hospital’s birth-center family room. Sheila had been waiting there for hours with the Jacobs family, Mrs. Greene, Mr. Bloom and a procession of Thornton Springs residents. Janessa had arrived at some point along with Andra and Hank, beaming with the news that the judges had loved their food. They stood a really good chance of winning, but the importance of that had definitely been shoved to the back burner for the time being.
They really hadn’t heard anything about how Courtney was doing other than that she was “progressing slowly,” and that made Sheila uneasy. With each hour that passed, Courtney’s words from earlier in the week, about there being a small chance that they might run into some complications, echoed a little louder in Sheila’s head.
Now, as she sat in one of the too-hard seats, hearing but not listening to soft background conversations, a talk show on the TV mounted in the corner and a few kids playing a game, Sheila stared at her shoes and said another little prayer.
She had a peripheral awareness of someone approaching her and glanced up to see Ben looking down at her with a faint attempt at a reassuring smile.
“Want to go get coffee?” The lightness of his tone did little to conceal his own nervousness, but she appreciated the effort.
With a silent nod, she stood.
After securing several promises that someone would call or find them the second anything happened, they took a little walk to find coffee and get some air. Not surprisingly, they wound up sitting on a bench on the third-floor courtyard—just the two of them and The Great Gatsby.
The stark hospital building rose up on three sides of the courtyard, but they faced the fourth side, which opened up to a railed-off view of the city of Helena. Since conversation would only lead them back to their concerns about the baby, Sheila took the book out of her bag and began reading aloud, picking up exactly where she and Ben had left off last summer. She remembered. And thought he might, too.
As she read, the smell of moist earth and primroses wafted from the waist-level planters at their backs, and the vague sound of a country song on someone’s car radio serenaded them from the parking lot below.
After finishing a chapter and passing the book to Ben, Sheila realized that the city lights had started to pop on and the sky had softened from bright blue to a wash of sapphire, rose and violet. She glanced at her watch. Almost seven hours had passed since they had arrived at the hospital, but suddenly time was passing far too quickly.
She sat back, pulled her sweater around herself to fend off the chill in the air and looked out across the city as she enjoyed the soothing sound of Ben’s voice.
After what seemed like just a couple of minutes, he elbowed her arm. “Chapter seven.” He held the open book closer to her. “Your turn.”
When she looked down, the black letters seemed to melt into gray paper, making them hard to decipher. “It’s getting a little dark to read, don’t you think?” She stretched her arms out in front of her. “We can always finish it inside.”
“Sure....” Sticking the marker in place, he closed the book and looked out over the city. “But it’s so nice out here. Let’s not go in quite yet.”
Contentment coated that idea and she settled back, enjoying the feeling of sitting almost close enough to touch but not quite. This was exactly what she’d hoped to avoid earlier in the week, but now instead of feeling like a fish on the end of a hook, she felt completely relaxed.
This was a day set apart from every other day, and she could just let cold harsh reality set back in tomorrow.
After a few moments, Ben broke the companionable silence. “It’s weird—Courtney told me they wanted to wait to find out if they’re having a boy or a girl.”
“What’s weird about that?”
“No, the weird part is that someone sent them an enormous bouquet of flowers. Did you see it?”
She caught her breath, not sure how to answer or if she even wanted to. “Flowers. Yes. They’re pretty.” Profound, Sheila. The thought of having to admit that the flowers were actually for her twisted her stomach into a slipknot.
“Yeah,” Ben went on, “but they’re so pink. I mean, what if it’s a boy?”
She smiled. “Well, if it’s a boy, we’ll just have to hope that he’s secure in his masculinity.”
He laughed at that. “I guess he’ll get over it. I mean, he’ll be born to be a cowboy, right?”
“Or a cowgirl. He might be a she, you know.”
“True. Anyway, those flowers were a nice gesture from whoever sent them. I guess it’s the thought that counts.” He jarred, as if he’d just remembered something. “Oh, speaking of gifts...”
He reached into the pocket of his jacket, and Sheila tweaked her head to see what he was up to.
He pulled out a small white bag and presented it to her.
“What’s this?” Furrowing her brow, she took it, instantly knowing the answer to her own question.
Ben ran a hand behind his neck, suddenly seeming a little nervous. “I was in the candy store getting some jelly beans for myself and I thought maybe you hadn’t had time to go in there yet, so I bought this for you.”
She peered into the bag of colorful jewellike candies, and a laugh got caught up with the lump forming in her throat. “That was so sweet of you.”
Relief colored his face.
With her mouth watering, she started to pick through the candy.
“Don’t worry.” Ben chuckled. “There aren’t any pink ones.”
Her head snapped up. “What? But...why...?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I just noticed you never buy that color. And when I gave you the rest of mine last year, you ate all of them but the pink ones.”
“You noticed that?”
“Yeah. You never wear pink, either.”
A hot flush burned into her cheeks as a perfect example of the hue currently being discussed. “How did you know that? Did Courtney tell you?”
His brow furrowed at the question. “No, I just noticed. Even though I think it would look good on you.” His gaze swept over her in a way that penetrated her soul. “It would look nice with your hair.”
Absently, she combed her hand through the hair by her neck. “It would?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded, a nervous smile curving his lips. “I...uh...like your hair short, by the way.”
She looked at him and broke into a nervous smile of her own. “Thanks.” Holding the open bag out to him, she regarded the door that led back into the maternity wing, reminding herself that there was still a world beyon
d her and Ben and this peaceful urban courtyard.
Seeing that she was looking around, Ben popped some candy in his mouth and turned, too. “Hey.” He stood. “I think I might see a way to keep us from having to go in just yet.”
As he moved around to the other side of the planter that their bench backed up to, Sheila twisted in her seat to watch him. “What are you up to, city boy?”
He smiled. “You’ll see in a minute.”
Chewing on the candy, Sheila let her gaze wander. The hospital walls were all but obscured by several perfectly spaced trees that rose up from the planters. There were several benches but they hadn’t seen another soul in all the time they’d been out here. This area was probably a kind of secret garden that went undiscovered by most hospital visitors. It felt special, like their own private sanctuary.
As Ben glanced up at the trees and then back at the walkway, Sheila heard her phone beep in her purse. Jolting at the thought that it was probably news about Courtney, she fumbled for the device and checked the screen. Relief mixed with disappointment when she saw Kevin’s name.
Deciding to let his message go until later, she set the phone down on the bench, next to the book and the candy bag. She had let him know hours ago that she was at the hospital in Helena, but he hadn’t responded. Admittedly, she was still a bit miffed about his reaction to her creek story and had little reason to give him a timely response.
“I wonder why no one else is out here,” Ben mused as he knelt down on the other side of the center planters.
Glancing up at the top of his head, which was pretty much all she could see of him now, she frowned. What was he up to...?
Her phone persisted with a second beep, and she looked at it again, huffing out a vague annoyance at the sight of Kevin’s name. She picked up the phone and did a quick read of the somewhat confusing messages, which seemed oddly demanding of her exact whereabouts. As off-putting as that was, she decided a crash course in boundary setting could wait. She tapped out a note about the pretty hospital courtyard, thinking he might appreciate her sharing some details of her day with him.
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