by Holly Rayner
She reached for a white clutch off of her dresser and then headed for the door.
“My, don’t you look pretty!” Mrs. Finch, her elderly landlady said, as Marissa descended the stairs that led from her apartment.
Mrs. Finch stopped weeding, leaned back on her heels, and gave Marissa a smile. “What’s the occasion?”
“Just meeting a friend for coffee,” Marissa said.
“Oh, I see!” Mrs. Finch said. “This must be a gentleman caller, am I right? Or else you wouldn’t have taken the time to look so nice.”
Marissa reached the bottom stair. She shook her head. “Not a gentleman caller,” she said, grinning at the phrasing that her old-fashioned landlady used. “I’m just meeting Tim, the reporter from the Dulcett Town Crier. He wants to do a write-up about the budget cuts at the elementary school, and he asked me if I might give him a quote or two.”
“Timothy Cuffner is a very nice fellow,” Mrs. Finch said. She reached down and pulled up a little fistful of weeds and popped them in the garbage bag nearby. “I could see the two of you getting together. He’s just about your age, and he’s single. I’m sure there’s a reason that he asked you, in particular, to give him a quote. Besides, couldn’t he have just interviewed you over the phone?”
She tossed another fistful of weeds into the bag. “That’s what reporters often do, you know. It’s more efficient. But no. Of course, he wanted to meet with you in person.”
Marissa blushed. In fact, she had gotten the impression that Tim was nervous when he’d asked her to meet up for coffee. “I’m not interested in dating,” she told Mrs. Finch. “He’s a nice guy, but we’re going to talk about the elementary school and that’s all.”
“Then why the nice dress?” Mrs. Finch asked.
Marissa grinned. “I can only go so long wearing just my old sweats and jammies. I needed to change things up.”
Mrs. Finch laughed. “Don’t worry, Marissa. This stretch of unemployment won’t last long for you. You’re such a smart, nice young woman. You’ll be back to getting dressed for work again in no time. Any school would be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Finch,” said Marissa.
She bid Mrs. Finch goodbye and headed to her car. The drive down Briar street was short and quick, and soon she was turning onto Main Street. She was stopped briefly at the town’s one streetlight, and then soon made it to the only coffee shop in Dulcett: Rainbow Bakery.
She saw Tim’s truck parked outside, but it was empty. It was the only other vehicle out front of the shop. Seeing as it was a weekday, the little bakery was quiet. Most of Dulcett’s coffee drinkers had fueled up before heading to work.
He must already be in there, Marissa thought, as she exited her car and hurried up the walkway that led into the bakery. She didn’t like the thought of keeping anyone waiting—especially a man as kind as Tim. He’d always been supportive of the town’s teachers, and he’d written multiple articles that had brought awareness to the education issues that the town was facing.
Marissa suspected that Tim had a bit of a crush on her.
He’s such a sweetheart, she thought, as she eyed him, sitting in a booth near the back. But I just don’t feel the same about him. There’s no spark there.
Not like with Colt.
Just the thought of Colt made her stomach jolt with longing.
Whenever she thought of Colt, she had a strong, visceral reaction. Energy suddenly coursed through her body and she felt so alive, even when the faintest of memories flashed into her mind.
Colt, smiling at her for the first time, his teeth white against the fading purple sky just beyond him. Those dimples chiseled into his tan cheeks.
She shivered, remembering the way he looked sitting across from her at the bar. She remembered the feel of his hand in hers, as they walked through the park to the bench on the overlook.
Then, the kiss that followed.
She smiled dreamily as she recalled the feel of Colt's hand caressing her face. She reached up and touched her own cheek. It was warm. She was heating up, just with the memory of Colt’s touch.
I have to stop thinking about him so much, she thought to herself. I can’t go on like this. If I insist on living with the ghost of Colt’s memory, I won’t ever allow myself to meet a new man.
I’m going to have to move on.
But how?
Colt’s memory always seemed to be with her. She thought of him when she first became conscious each morning. Before she opened her eyes, she saw his image just behind her lids. She always laid in bed for a little while with her eyes closed, just trying to savor the image of his face. It inevitably faded, but she always tried to hold onto it for as long as she could.
The internet was a minefield of temptations. She often found herself trying to apply for jobs online, but getting distracted by the many “Colt Thorpe” searches that she conducted each day.
Each search pulled up hundreds, if not thousands of images to browse through. She discovered that Colt had lost his parents in a boating accident and that he’d almost drowned himself. She read about his heroic battle with the ocean, and then his hospital recovery in the aftermath. She also perused articles about his college football career, his partnership with one of his teammates, and the fact that the two of them had turned Thorpe Oil Enterprises into a multibillion-dollar company.
With each article she read, she fell more and more in love with him.
With each article she read, she felt his loss even more.
With each article she read, she became more and more sure that their baby was going to be strong, smart, and capable of living an exceptional life.
It was painful to learn more about Colt, but it also felt necessary. She wanted to know everything she could about the father of her child. When her son or daughter was old enough, she wanted to be able to tell him or her all about Colt. She planned to tell her child, “Your daddy was a great man, and he would have loved you very much.”
Her mind was a million miles away as she waited for help at the bakery counter. Once the teenager who was in charge of the register noticed her, Marissa ordered a scone and a decaf coffee. Then, still daydreaming about her child and Colt, she made her way over toward Tim.
Maybe I’ll have a boy, and he’ll have Colt’s sandy blond hair and his sky-blue eyes, she thought for the hundredth time. It was one of her favorite, most cherished daydreams.
“…on the Dulcett Town Crier credit card,” Tim said. He jumped out of his seat and moved quickly around the table to pull out a chair for Marissa.
“Hm?” said Marissa as she took a seat. “I missed some of that. I’ve been so spacey lately.” She gave a little laugh.
“I was just saying that I’d have been happy to buy you your coffee and snack,” Tim said as he returned to his seat. “I have a credit card to pay for work-related expenses, and seeing as you’re here for my article, it’d be no trouble to cover the cost. I was able to pay for my bagel and latte.” He smiled and looked quite proud of himself.
Marissa waved a hand. “Oh, it’s fine,” she said politely. “It’s just a few bucks. Thanks for asking me here. I’m so excited that you’re going to be writing about the budget cuts. People in this town really deserve to know how the cuts are going to affect the kids. And to be honest, I’m happy to get out of my place for a little while. I’ve been getting cabin fever, lately.”
“I know how that can be,” Tim said. “You’re still between jobs, is that right?”
Marissa nodded. She held up two fingers, twisted together. “Fingers crossed that I find one soon, though. If I don’t, I’m going to be living with my parents for a lot longer than I’d like.”
She lifted her coffee cup and blew across the steamy surface. Then she said, “Believe me—I don’t want to do that. As it is, I’m planning on staying with them temporarily starting this September.”
The smile on Tim’s face fell slightly, and he stared at her for a moment. Then, he said, “You mean, you’re leaving Dulcett? Your
parents aren’t here… are they?”
Marissa shook her head. “They’re in Peabody… three hours from here. It’s even more rural than Dulcett—if you can imagine that.” She emitted a soft laugh.
Tim did not laugh along. “But—that’s awful!” he said, surprising her with the emotion behind his voice.
“I know,” she said, assuming that he was referring to her move-in with her parents. “I never thought that I would reach a day when moving back in with my mom and dad would be the best option, but here we are!”
She smiled, trying to make light of the unfortunate situation. “Please don’t quote me on that, though. I’d rather give you something that will shine a light on the cuts that the state is facing.”
As she took a sip of her drink, she thought over what she wanted to convey about the budget cuts to Tim. Then, she said, “I really feel that students need more attention than the new classroom arrangements will afford. When children don’t have enough one-on-one time with teachers, their focus and motivation start to drop. With a large classroom size, it’s hard for teachers to give each kid the attention they deserve. I’m afraid that….”
She went on, and Tim took out a notebook and started jotting down notes. Occasionally he said things like, “That’s good—I can use that.” He also peppered her with questions. Marissa felt happy that she was contributing information that could be used in Tim’s article. The meeting felt like the most productive thing she’d done in ages.
By the time she polished off her scone and decaf coffee, she felt the meeting winding down to a natural conclusion. “I can’t think of anything else that would be relevant to your article,” Marissa said. She folded the cloth napkin she’d been using and placed it on the small white plate that her scone had been served on. Then, she took the last sip of her drink.
Tim looked over his notes, but he seemed distracted. He kept glancing up at Marissa over his notepad.
Finally, he gave up the charade of reading his notes, and he set his small notebook on the table. “I have to be honest,” he said. “I’m sad that you’re going to be moving out of town.”
Marissa sensed that Tim was about to ask her out, but she didn’t want that to happen. “Oh, you’ll find other teachers to talk to for your pieces about education,” she said. She was about to reach for her clutch and bid him goodbye, when he surprised her by pulling a wrapped present from his messenger bag.
“What’s this?” Marissa asked, furrowing her brow and looking down at the gift. It was in pretty silver paper and had a big white bow wrapped around it.
“It’s for you,” Tim said. “I—I bought it a while ago. Remember when the Finches hosted your thirtieth birthday party at the town hall?”
Marissa nodded. “Tim, that was almost a year ago.”
“I know,” he said. “I meant to give it to you then, but I chickened out. You’re just… so beautiful, and I was intimidated. I thought I’d get up the nerve and maybe ask you out, and give it to you then, but I never did. And now… you might be moving. So, now’s the time.” He leaned forward. “Open it,” he suggested.
Marissa felt uncomfortable as she pulled at the ribbons. Was Tim trying to ask her out? She had absolutely zero desire to date the man, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, either.
She pulled off the wrapping paper and saw a small electric fan. “For your apartment,” Tim said happily. “It’s got a compartment that you put cold water in. I thought you’d like it, seeing as it’s so hot around here. I even asked Mrs. Finch about your place, and she told me there was no air conditioner.”
“Wow, Tim!” Marissa said, forcing herself to smile brightly. She turned the box slightly and pretended to read the text there, but really she was calculating a way to discourage Tim from pursuing her further. Finally, she decided that it was best to be blunt. “This is such a thoughtful gift, and I really appreciate it. But you seem to be expressing interest in me, Tim, so I just have to be square with you. I’m not available.” She placed a hand on her little baby bump as she spoke.
“Oh—I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I thought… I was sure I heard that you weren’t with the father. Something about an accident that he was in. I didn’t think he survived.” He glanced quickly down at her hands, resting on the bump. Then he looked back at her.
Marissa was careful to maintain her friendly smile as she said, “You’re right, he was in an accident,” she said. “He passed away. It’s just—to be perfectly honest with you—I still have feelings for him. It’s complicated. I think I was in love with him, and I’m trying to process that. Believe me, it’s not easy.”
“It will take time,” Tim said. “If you ever want to go out on a date, you know how to find me.” He offered a forced, nervous grin.
She nodded. “I sure do,” she said. “Good luck with your article.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Before you go, would you just look over a few of the numbers I wrote down? I’ll double-check them with a few other sources, too, but if you could just take a look, that would be a big help.”
“Sure,” Marissa said, trying to hide the fact that she really just wanted to leave. I’ll just look over the numbers and then I’ll go, she thought, as she leaned across the table to take a look at Tim’s notebook.
Chapter 14
Colt
Colt felt ill as he watched Marissa lean across the little cafe table.
She looks happy, he thought, as he stepped back away from the smudged and dusty windowpane of the ancient cafe. A small sign that read “Rainbow Bakery” hung over the door. His cowboy boots made the old, worn porch floorboards of the small establishment squawk as he stepped away from the wall. He took off his Stetson and used it to fan his face, hoping that would help him think straight.
He’d arrived in town twenty minutes earlier and had driven straight to the address that his security team reported for Marissa. Not seeing her red Jetta there, he began a slow cruise through town, searching for it. The town was small; it didn’t take him long to find her parked out in front of the little bakery.
He’d felt so excited as he charged up the steps—eager to burst through the cafe doors and greet her with a smile and a genuine explanation about his prolonged absence. He didn’t care if the sting operation on Vance was thrown off track because of his public appearance. All he cared about, as he took the tilted wooden stairs two at a time and bounded onto the porch, was seeing Marissa.
Holding her.
Kissing her.
Thoughts of this filled his mind, but as he’d reached the screen door that separated the porch from the inside of the cafe, he’d happened to look inside.
And then everything changed.
Colt saw Marissa sitting at a cafe table, near the back of the little table-filled room, looking just as pretty as he remembered. The sight of her made him breathless—and then the sight of the man at the table with her made the air come whooshing back into his lungs. He gulped for air, taken aback by the shock of seeing her with someone else. She was smiling so brightly at the man—whoever he was. She looked happy.
Colt had quickly stepped to the side and peered through the window, which was smudged and tan with a thin layer of dust. Though it was a little bit hard to see through the smudged glass, he could see clearly enough to witness the man handing Marissa a present. Marissa smiled as she opened it.
Now, as she leaned across the table still smiling, it hit Colt: She has a new boyfriend, he thought.
Or worse—a fiancé or husband. Maybe she got engaged or married while I was in Argentina.
He stepped back again, this time reaching the front step of the porch. He turned and descended the steps slowly. He felt dazed. I was gone for a long time. Too long. She thinks I’m dead, and she’s moved on.
And why shouldn’t she? Maybe that guy in there is perfect for her.
Maybe he’s better suited to her than I am.
He looked up and eyed his surroundings. The main street sidewalks were studded with large flow
erpots that were filled to the brim with sweet, perfectly formed flowers. Birds sang from the trees. An elderly couple strolled down the sidewalk, arm in arm. A child rode past on a pink bike, whistling.
It’s so sweet here in Dulcett, Colt realized. This place is quaint. I can’t picture anything bad ever happening here.
I bet there’s no organized crime. No explosions; no threats.
This is a place of peace and serenity. It’s a place for settling down and raising a family.
My life back in Austin isn’t this calm, this safe feeling.
She’s better off here. He slid into the driver’s seat.
What was I thinking, coming all the way here without ever considering her happiness? If I show up in her life now, I’m only going to cause her stress.
He pushed the key into the ignition and turned. The rental SUV’s engine purred to life.
He took one last look at the Rainbow Cafe.
I can’t do that to her, he thought. She’s happy, and that’s what matters most.
With that, he pulled away from the curb and turned the car toward the road that would take him to Austin.
Chapter 15
Colt
Colt stood at the bank counter, staring at the date that was on display: November 13th.
“Excuse me, are you in line?” a young woman asked him.
He turned to her and shook his head. “No, ma’am,” he said. “You go right ahead.”
She fluttered her lashes at him. “Isn’t it hard to see if you wear your sunglasses inside like that?” A little flash of curiosity sparkled in her eye. “Hey, aren’t you… famous or something? You look familiar.”
Colt lowered his gaze and tilted his Stetson slightly so that it blocked the woman’s view. He was under strict orders from his security team to maintain a low profile, now that he was back in Austin. It was rare that he even went out in public these days, ever since getting back from South America. As far as the public was concerned—and as far as Vance was concerned—he was dead.