by Annie Rains
“Sure you can.” Darla headed behind the counter, talking behind her. “Pregnant women love baked items. Who is this for?”
“Mandy Elks.”
Darla glanced back, her mouth forming an exaggerated “o.” “She’s ready to pop any day, isn’t she?”
“Not soon enough,” Lucy muttered under her breath. Mandy was sweet, but pregnancy had made her a bit demanding. She was high maintenance, which meant that Lucy was making daily house visits to check on her now. And to bring her breakfast.
Lucy paid Darla for the extra bagel, grabbed the bag, and headed out. Ten minutes later, she pulled into the driveway of Mandy Elks’ house. After doting on Mandy just enough to maintain a pleasant relationship, she headed back to her car. Then she headed home for a small break. She noticed that the FOR RENT sign in the front yard had fallen—again. She walked over, picked it up, and drove it back into the ground, using the force of all her weight.
As she was struggling to get the stake deeper into the dirt, she was vaguely aware of a vehicle approaching, slowing, and stopping.
Lucy turned toward the deputy cruiser now parked on her curb. She straightened at the sight of Miles getting out, her heart betraying her with an extra beat or two. She supposed Miles would always have that effect on her. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“That’s my line.” He stepped toward her, all tall, dark, and handsome.
“I came by to check on you after yesterday’s scare.”
Lucy straightened. “I’m fine. Just a little embarrassed, that’s all.”
“I also came to ask about that sign in your yard. I saw it when I was here.”
“Yeah. I’m trying to rent out the garage apartment,” she said. “I’ve had this sign up for a while, but no one is biting.”
“Mind if I ask how much the rent is?” Miles asked.
Chapter Three
Lucy straightened as the implications of that question circulated in her mind. “Why do you want to know how much I’m charging?”
Miles shrugged. “Well, it appears that I’m about to be homeless. At least temporarily. Mr. Blake is downsizing and wants to move back into the house that I’ve been living in for the last seven years.”
“When?” Lucy asked, trying not to notice how Miles’s uniform hugged his shoulders and biceps just right.
“He wants to move in on Thanksgiving weekend.”
Lucy gasped. “That’s not even a two-week notice. Can he do that?”
“I guess I could fight it, but it sounds like Mr. Blake needs the place more than me. He’s had two knee operations this year, and he can’t climb stairs anymore.” Miles shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can get my stuff out and store it temporarily at my mom’s place. I guess she’d let me stay on her couch for a while.” His gaze dropped to the sign.
Lucy really wished he didn’t know about her garage apartment. She didn’t want him living so close by. That would be awkward, right? An ex-fiancé living on the same property? “I haven’t decided how much to charge yet,” she said. “I think there might be vacancies at the Somerset Cottages. Trisha fixed them up over the summer. That would be a nice place to live.”
“They’re all full,” Miles said. “I called as soon as I got off the phone with Mr. Blake.” He looked at her for a long moment. Then he pulled his hands from his pockets and presented open palms. “I just need a temporary place while I look for something else. I’m thinking it might be time for me to buy a small house of my own. I’ve been saving money with that in mind.”
“Wow. Buying a house is a big decision.”
“It is. I was going to start my search in the new year, but I guess my timeline has sped up…I’m a great tenant. Mr. Blake can vouch for me.”
This is so awkward.
“It would be handy to have a deputy sheriff living on your property. In case of break-ins,” he said it in a teasing tone.
“That’s true. It’s just…” Lucy trailed off.
Miles narrowed his dark brown eyes as his expression turned serious. “Because we used to date? Because we were engaged?”
“That was a long time ago,” Lucy said, maybe a little too quickly.
“Right,” Miles agreed. “And we’re friends now. So it shouldn’t be weird at all.”
“Right.” She didn’t have this tightly coiled tension in her chest with anyone else though.
Miles held up his hands. “But we’ll still be friends if you tell me no. I promise.”
“Can I think about it?” Lucy asked. “I mean, I haven’t even decided how much I want to charge or if I’m really even doing this.”
They both knew that was a lie. The sign had been out for a month.
“Sure. Think about it. And in the meantime, I’ll keep looking for a place to avoid sleeping on my mom’s couch. I love my mother, but she loves to get into my business a little too much, always asking who I’m dating, why I’m not dating so and so, and when I’m going to settle down with a nice woman.”
Just that little bit of information was enough to make Lucy feel awkward. Seeing Miles all the time would definitely be weird.
Miles’s radio buzzed to life at his hip.
Shoplifting at Hannigan’s Market.
He took a few retreating steps toward his vehicle at the end of her driveway. “I need to go. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Yeah.” Later. And hopefully by then she’d have a different renter in place and a reason to tell Miles he couldn’t live here.
He paused before getting into his car. “Hey, Luce?
“Hmm?”
“You know my mother makes enough food at Thanksgiving to feed the entire lake. She insists that I invite friends. I’ve already invited the other volunteers at the youth center. Jake Fletcher is bringing Trisha. Reese Whitaker said maybe. What do you say? Want to join us on Thursday at two o’clock?”
Lucy hesitated. “Um.”
“Do you already have plans? Because Thanksgiving Day is not the time to stay home alone.”
Lucy wondered if he’d been talking to Moira or Tess. Or maybe Reva had broadcast in her blog that Lucy was orphaned this year.
Someone please adopt lonely Lucy Hannigan for the holidays.
Miles opened his car door and stood behind it. “Mom has this challenge,” he continued before she could argue with him. “Whoever invites the most people to Thanksgiving dinner gets an entire pumpkin pie to bring home.”
Lucy laughed softly. “I remember that challenge.”
“And agreeing to dinner doesn’t mean agreeing to renting the apartment to me. It’s two separate things.”
“Thanks for the invitation, Miles. The truth is, I actually already have plans.”
His eyebrows drew up on his forehead. “Oh. Okay.”
That was two small fibs she’d told Miles this visit. She was definitely not landing herself on Santa’s good list this year. Once Miles was gone though, she’d go inside her house and make plans. Then what she’d just told Miles would be true.
His radio buzzed again.
“You better go,” she said.
Miles glanced at his radio. “Yeah, shoplifting in Somerset Lake is a rarity.”
“Thank goodness for that. I’ll let you know about the apartment,” she promised—already knowing her answer would be no.
* * *
Miles flipped on the sirens of his car, which he rarely ever did, and sped to the scene. Shoplifting wasn’t necessarily an emergency and he suspected it was more of a misunderstanding than anything. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly caught someone stealing.
Within minutes, he pulled up to the curb in front of Hannigan’s Market and cut the engine. He quickly got out and strode inside to meet the manager, Sandy Dunkin. She was sitting at a little counter along the store wall, separate from the cash registers.
Miles’s heart sank when he saw who was sitting alongside her.
“Hey Sandy.” He stepped up to the counter and glanced over at Charlie Bates, the
thirteen-year old boy who helped the younger kids at the youth center. What had Charlie done? Now Miles was even more sure that this whole incident was a misunderstanding.
“Thank you for coming, Deputy Bruno.” Sandy’s expression was regretful as she glanced over at the teenager. “Charlie here had some store items in his pockets as he tried to head out. I caught him last week and had a talk with him already. I told him, if I caught him again, I’d have to call the law. He promised he wouldn’t lift again, but…” She trailed off. “So, this time I called you. I had to keep my word.”
Miles folded his arms in front of him. “Keeping your word is important. Hey, Charlie,” he said, addressing the boy whose chin was tipped down, nearly touching his chest.
Charlie mumbled something that Miles thought might be a hello.
“I’ll give him a ride to the station, and then I’ll have him call his parents,” Miles told Sandy.
Now Charlie’s face whipped up to meet Miles’s eyes. “No! You can’t do that!”
Miles faced the boy. “Why not?”
Charlie looked at Sandy and back at him. Miles took the hint. They needed to talk privately.
“I’ll take him from here, Sandy. Thanks for calling,” Miles said.
“Thanks for getting here so quickly. I’m sorry, Charlie,” Sandy said regretfully. “You left me no choice.”
“Let’s keep this just between us, can we?” Miles asked Sandy as an afterthought. Sandy wasn’t one to gossip, but sometimes word got out to the folks who were. Gossip wouldn’t help Charlie or his family.
Sandy nodded solemnly. “I won’t say a word.”
“Thanks.” Miles walked alongside Charlie out of the store and to his cruiser. The chilly late November air made him fold into his coat deeper as they walked. They didn’t talk until they were both seated inside the warmth of his vehicle. “All right, Charlie. What’s going on?”
Charlie’s chin was resting on his chest again. “Please don’t call my parents,” Charlie pleaded.
Miles thought that maybe he heard tears in the boy’s voice. “Give me one good reason.”
“Because…Because my mom lost her job a couple days ago too. My dad was supposed to be looking for work, but the truth is he took off last week. My mom said he’ll be back and we’ll be okay, if we can just get through this rough patch.”
“Rough patch,” Miles repeated. That was an understatement.
“If I cause trouble for my family, I’ll just make things worse.”
“Then why were you shoplifting?” Miles asked. He still hadn’t started his car yet.
“Because we don’t have snacks. My sister and I just get peanut butter sandwiches and Ramen Noodles right now. I wanted to get something else, just so Brittney would stop frowning so hard. I was going to pay for it later, I promise.”
The story felt so similar to Miles’s own. His family had struggled, and his dad had finally broken under the pressure and left. Miles had been older than Charlie at the time though. He’d been able to get a job, at least. “Stealing is a crime.”
Charlie was pale. “Yes, sir.”
Miles suspected the poor kid was envisioning himself going to jail from now until next January. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll buy your family a little bit of food right now. But you have to do something for me.”
Charlie’s eyes widened as he looked over. “What?”
“I haven’t figured that out just yet,” Miles said. “No more stealing though. If that happens again, I will call your mom.”
Charlie’s gaze slid over to meet Miles’s. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay.” Miles pushed the car door back open. “Let’s go inside the market and get some snacks and maybe a box of mac and cheese for you and your family tonight. Then I’ll drive you home.”
“What’ll you tell my mom? She’ll wonder why you’re buying us food.”
“I’ll tell her that you and I have struck a deal. I’m delivering food baskets this weekend. Think your mom will be okay with you helping? I can pick you up.”
“Yeah. She won’t mind.”
“Good.”
They went back inside the store, Miles waved at Sandy, and they perused the aisles, putting several items in a cart before checking out and leaving the store with a couple of bags of groceries. Then Miles drove Charlie home and walked him to the door.
“What’s all this?” Mrs. Bates asked with a surprised smile.
“Well, I asked Charlie to help me with a few things. I hope that’s okay. In exchange, he wanted to buy food. This is a good kid you got here.”
The mother turned to her son. “That’s very thoughtful, Charlie.”
“It is,” Miles agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I was wondering if you could spare Charlie on Saturday to help me deliver food baskets in the community.”
Mrs. Bates looked between Miles and her son. “Well, he’s babysitting a friend’s six-year-old at one-thirty. But he can help you in the morning, I suppose. This is a lot of groceries just for a few hours of work though.” She gestured for Miles to follow her inside.
Miles walked through the living room and into the kitchen, where he laid the bags on the table. “I’ve been needing help here and there. I’m sure I’ll find something else for Charlie to help me with.”
Mrs. Bates nodded again. “Of course I can spare Charlie if you need him.”
Miles turned to leave.
Charlie followed him to the door. “Thanks, Deputy Bruno,” the boy said a bit shyly.
“You’re welcome. You might regret this arrangement though, kid. I’m gonna make you work for it.”
“I don’t mind,” Charlie said, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth. “I just want to help my family until my dad gets back.”
“All right. I’ll see you at the Youth Center at 9:00 Saturday morning, Charlie.” Miles turned and headed back to his cruiser. When he got inside, he checked his cell phone before pulling back onto the road. He still hadn’t heard from Lucy about that garage apartment. If she didn’t call back, it looked like he might be sleeping on his mom’s couch for Thanksgiving and maybe Christmas too. How was that for motivation to go ahead and make his dream of being a homeowner come true?
* * *
Ashley Herring should have been a movie star. She was a high maintenance diva misplaced in a small-town void of all the extravagancies she seemed to think she was due. Lucy kind of felt bad for Ashley’s husband, Allen, who was doting on his pregnant wife the best he could, and yet he seemed to keep falling short of Ashley’s expectations.
“You want me to take a birthing class?” Ashley asked Lucy as if the idea was a foreign concept.
“Like Lamaze?” Allen asked.
“Kind of,” Lucy said. “I teach the expectant mother’s class over at The Village’s Community Building on Tuesday nights. It’s more than just breathing lessons. It’s how to eat healthy for the baby and what to expect during the various stages of pregnancy. It’s so important that an expectant mother take good care of herself. The father too.”
“Can’t you just teach me that stuff during our appointments?”
Lucy maintained her smile, despite her fraying patience. “This is more in-depth. The information I provide at the community building is on top of what I’m already teaching you during our home visits. You don’t have to come, of course. I’m just letting you know that it’s an option.”
Allen put his hand on Ashley’s shoulders. “It’ll be fun. Kind of like a date night.”
Ashley’s face scrunched up. “Date night is a nice dinner over candlelight. It’s not commiserating with other swollen-ankled moms-to-be over acid reflux and Braxton Hicks pains.”
Lucy’s smile wobbled just a touch. “That’s not what this is. Allen, you are free to come on your own if you’d like. It’s good for husbands to be involved in everything going on during this special time.”
“Well, he’s not going without me,” Ashley whined, her hands flattened over the mound of her belly
, roughly the size of a basketball. Was Ashley like this before she’d gotten pregnant? Lucy wasn’t sure because they’d only been acquaintances before Ashley had become her client.
“Great, then you two can come together. Tuesday nights at seven.”
“What if I go into labor on a Tuesday night?” Ashley asked. “You’ll be teaching a class. Who will help me?”
Lucy took a breath, drawing it deep into her lungs before answering. “If you go into labor on a Tuesday night,” she explained, “then I will, of course, cancel or reschedule the class and meet you at the birthing center. The participants are all pregnant. They understand that labor is unpredictable.”
“Thank you, Dr. Hannigan,” Allen said.
Lucy had already told Allen several times over, but it was worth repeating. “I’m not a doctor. I’m a nurse practitioner. If a real doctor hears you call me that, they might get offended. I didn’t go to school as long as they did.”
“Got it,” Allen said, a small grimace lining his lips. “Sorry. We’ll see you on Tuesday night.”
Ashley didn’t look happy about this new plan which she was treating like an inconvenience. Lucy suspected that Ashley would be happy to have the knowledge as she progressed into her pregnancy though.
After leaving the Herring house, Lucy went by Hannigan’s Market for groceries before going home. Hannigan’s used to be owned by her family, but like everything else in Somerset Lake, it now belonged to someone else. Except for the pink house on Christmas Lane and Bella.
Note to self: Bella needs more treats.
Lucy pushed her buggy down the market aisles, heading toward the pet section. Groceries for one was quick and easy. That was the upside to being a single woman. The downside was that she shopped alone and ate alone. Everything she did, for the most apart, was in solitude. She was the very image of an independent woman, which she was proud of, but sometimes she took it to such an extreme that she felt a bit lonely.
This close to the holidays, the aisles were extra crowded, and folks were chattier than usual. Lucy managed to make it out with just a few waves and hellos. Then she loaded the bags in her backseat and got into the driver’s seat. She cranked the car and made a mental to-do list for the remainder of the day. One of the items gave her a pang of guilt. She still hadn’t called Miles back about the apartment above her garage because she didn’t have a good excuse to say no.