Maysen Jar Box Set

by Devney Perry

  It didn’t surprise me that they were in their stools. Jimmy and Randall, sitting in the same spots as they had nearly every day since I’d opened The Maysen Jar, had become fixtures in the restaurant. They were as much a part of this place as the brick walls or wood floors.

  Last year, when I’d won an award for Bozeman’s best restaurant, the newspaper reporter had spent more time interviewing those two than he had me or Molly. They’d practically become famous after that. There wasn’t a day that went by anymore where the counter wasn’t full of their friends from The Rainbow.

  But no one ever dared sit in their stools.

  There had only been one incident when a poor, unsuspecting fool had tried to take Randall’s seat. He’d chased away the “stool thief” with a tongue-lashing and some wild swinging of his cane. Thankfully, no one had gotten hurt, but ever since, Molly and I had marked those stools as reserved to avoid the risk of assault.

  And if they wanted to sit in their seats, far be it from me to insist they move.

  I crossed the restaurant with my eyes locked on a little girl bouncing off her seat to race my way.

  “Mommy!” MacKenna’s chin and cheeks were covered in blue frosting. Her green eyes, the ones she’d inherited from Cole, were darting back and forth between me and the present table. “Time for pwesents?”

  I smiled and stroked her brown curls. “Not quite yet. Let’s give everyone a chance to finish eating their cake.”

  Her three-year-old face formed a scowl. “But I eat mine alweady.”

  “MacKenna Lou,” Mia called from the table. “Come sit by me and you can have more cake.”

  The scowl disappeared from my beautiful daughter’s face as she raced to her grandmother’s side.

  Mia was MacKenna’s favorite person on the planet other than her baby brother. Cole came in a close third with me trailing a distant fourth. But I loved that my daughter had such a close relationship with her nana.

  Really, she was close with all her grandparents.

  Just as he’d planned, Brad had retired as chief of police a few years ago. He and Mia spent some time traveling, but for the most part, they were wholly dedicated to their grandchildren. Evie and Zack’s triplets—three rambunctious boys—had just turned five. MacKenna was three.

  And today, Brady James Goodman was one.

  Just like his sister, Brady loved his grandparents, but while Mia and MacKenna had a special connection, Brady was more attached to my mom.

  I walked around the table and took the free chair between my parents. Brady, who’d been sitting on my mom’s lap and sharing her cake, lunged for me the moment I sat down.

  “Hi, baby.” I kissed his cheek. “Did you like the cake?”

  His answer was to stick his fingers in his mouth and suck off the frosting.

  Like MacKenna’s, Brady’s hair was brown like Cole’s, but while MacKenna had gotten Cole’s green eyes, Brady’s were completely unique. They were blue, like mine, but a brighter shade with small green flecks around the middle.

  “How is it?” I asked Mom as I picked up my own fork.

  She swallowed her bite of cake. “So. Good. I love the almond flavor you added. You’ve inspired me to do some experimenting.”

  “Like what?” I took a bite of my own piece of cake. With a mental pat on the back for one hell of a good cake, I kept eating as Mom and I chatted about new recipe ideas. Something we did a lot these days.

  My parents had moved to Bozeman from Alaska last fall. Sadly, all of my grandparents had passed within the last four years, and since my parents no longer had family in Anchorage, they’d retired and moved here to be closer to their grandchildren. Dad had gotten a part-time job at the private airfield—mostly so he had an excuse to leave the house—and Mom came into the restaurant most days to help me cook.

  I loved that they were closer. Everyone did. Kali and Max had been overjoyed when they’d moved here, and my kids wouldn’t remember a time when they didn’t have four grandparents at their beck and call.

  Like Finn and I when we’d been kids.

  “Where did your brother disappear to?” Dad stood to clear his plate.

  “He and Cole went to buy more beer. When they get back, we’ll open presents.”

  Dad smiled and patted my shoulder. “Everything was delicious. Don’t tell your mother,” he leaned down but didn’t even try to whisper as he grinned at Mom, “but I think you’ve surpassed her.”

  Mom just laughed. “I know she has.”

  “I ate too much.” Molly slid past Dad and into his empty seat, collapsing and rubbing her stomach. “But it was so good. We need to add that cake to the menu.”

  “Or maybe we should make a cake every week, just for the staff to share.”

  “Yes!” Molly cheered. “They’ll love that.”

  Mom, Molly and I visited for a while until the cake was demolished and the kids were chasing each other around the tables. So while everyone was enjoying the conversation, I left Brady under the watchful eye of his grandparents and snuck away to my office.

  I flicked on the light and pulled out my phone, swiping to find the right picture. Then, using the special printer that Cole had gotten me last year for Christmas, I hit print.

  A few moments later, I was smiling at the picture in my hands.

  Brady was sitting on Cole’s lap. MacKenna was on mine. In front of us was the birthday cake I’d made with a single lit candle in the middle. Brady was staring at the flame with wide eyes while MacKenna leaned over the table, her mouth in a perfect O as she prepared to blow it out for her brother.

  I stared at the picture for another second, then went to the desk, getting out a pushpin for my wall.

  My wall of memories.

  After I’d finished Jamie’s birthday list, I’d contemplated starting one of my own. But plotting the future had been Jamie’s thing, not mine. So I dismissed the idea and settled on something else.

  I’d covered one entire office wall with corkboard to pin up special pictures.

  I didn’t have a list of things I wanted to do in my life. I had a wall of memories of the things I’d already done.

  I had pictures of Nazboo chasing my kids in our yard. Of Cole as he fixed up cars in our garage. Of board game nights with Finn and his girlfriend. Of Molly and her kids carving pumpkins for my porch.

  My wall was full of memories I wanted to keep close, and tonight, I’d add one from Brady’s first birthday.

  I stepped up to the wall, searching for just the right spot.

  There was a small space open next to the picture from the day Cole had proposed. He’d taken me to Glacier and gotten down on one knee in front of Lake McDonald. After I’d said yes and we’d kissed, he’d taken a selfie for my wall, making sure to capture the solitaire diamond shining brightly on my hand.

  Next to that photo was my favorite photo from our wedding day. After I’d moved into his house, we’d gotten married in the spring in a small ceremony at a local church. The reception had been catered at The Maysen Jar. It had been such a hectic day that Cole and I had hardly spent time together, so we’d snuck away for a few quiet moments to share a piece of cake at the kitchen table. Just like our first date. Molly had poked her head through the swinging door and caught it on camera.

  Most of the others were pictures of the kids. I’d pinned photos from the day each was born. One of Cole kissing MacKenna’s forehead after the nurse had handed her over. One of Jimmy whispering a secret to a swaddled Brady.

  I had a couple old pictures from college of me, Jamie, Finn and Molly. I had pictures of our niece and nephews. I even had a picture of Tuesday Hastings and her daughter, Kennedy, standing by Jamie’s old truck.

  Tuesday had flourished in Oregon. She’d taken a job working with her grandmother at a bed-and-breakfast on the coast. I didn’t hear from her often, but every once in a while, she’d send me a picture with a recipe on the back.

  Not once since the night she’d left had she ever come back to Monta
na. Not even after Cole had put Tommy Bennett in prison for twenty years. Not even after a judge had sentenced Nina Veras with two life sentences in prison for first-degree murder.

  Nina wasn’t the only one in prison either. Her boyfriend, Samuel Long, had been sentenced to sixty years without parole for conspiracy to commit murder. He’d denied his involvement, of course, but when the police had found the murder weapon in his house, he’d had a harder time peddling his lies.

  And the day of the sentencing hearing had been the day I’d put it all in the past. So had Cole. It had taken some time, but he’d stopped blaming himself for the murders. The hearings had given us both some overdue closure.

  Jamie’s parents had attended the sentencing hearings too. They’d sat behind me and Cole in the courtroom as the judge had handed down sentences, but that was the last time I’d seen Kyle and Debbie. I wasn’t sure if they’d ever move on from their son’s death. Now that I had children of my own, I didn’t know if I would have been able to either. But I hoped, for their sake, they’d find some peace.

  “There you are.” Cole stepped into the office. “What are you doing?”

  I held up the picture. “I was just deciding where to put this.”

  He stepped closer, looking down at the photo. The smile that spread across my husband’s face made my heart flutter just as strong as it had five years ago.

  “Where are you going to put it?”

  I turned back to the wall, assessing my options. The eye-level strip was full, but I still had plenty of space to fill up to the ceiling or down toward the floor. I had plenty of room for more memories.

  “How about here?” I stood on my tiptoes and pointed to a free spot toward the ceiling. “Would you hang it for me?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  He took the picture and I stepped back, watching as he pinned the photo.

  “I like it.” Cole stepped back from the wall and pulled me into his arms, kissing me softly, before looking back to the pictures. “We have a good life, beautiful.”

  I hugged him tighter. “We do.”

  One I’d never take for granted. One I’d always cherish.

  Minute by minute.

  Letters to Molly

  Prologue

  Finn

  “Miss?” I snagged the waitress’s attention as she walked past our booth. “Could I get another beer?”

  “You got it.” She smiled and hurried away as I downed the rest of my first Bud Light.

  Drinking was necessary when my sister was cuddled up on the other side of the booth, lips locked with this new guy she was dating. Jamie. There wasn’t anything quite as uncomfortable as watching your little sister kiss a man with tongue.

  I looked over my shoulder, searching the crowded restaurant for our waitress. If this was how the night was going to go, I needed to order two more beers instead of one. The waitress had disappeared. Damn.

  “So, Jamie.” I forced myself to say his name nicely as I turned back to the booth. “Poppy tells me that you’re from a ranch around here.”

  He and Poppy broke apart—thank fuck—as he nodded to me. “That’s right. It’s about forty-five minutes from here. You guys should come out there with me one of these days.”

  Jamie stretched his arm behind her and rested it on the back of the booth. And there it was, the dopey grin. Clearly Jamie was just as infatuated with Poppy as she was with him.

  I tipped the beer bottle to my lips, frowning when I remembered it was empty. As I set it down, I studied Jamie from the corner of my eye.

  He was two years younger than I was but just as bulky, probably from growing up on a working ranch. He wore his hair too long and too shaggy. His green and white pearl-snap Western shirt was unsnapped one too many. And the guy was wearing flip-flops in September.

  Despite his strange cross between surfer and cowboy, Poppy was enamored. She’d gone out with him three times already. Wasn’t that too much? It seemed like too much.

  When she’d invited me along tonight to meet Jamie and her new roommate for burgers, I’d had no choice but to say yes. Poppy was already in deep, and I had to know what kind of guy we were dealing with here.

  “You’re a senior?” Jamie asked. I guess he hadn’t completely forgotten I was in the booth too.

  “Yep.” I nodded. “Landscape design. What are you studying?”

  “Education. I figure working until I’m sixty-five will be a hell of a lot more fun if I get to hang out with kids all day.” He flashed Poppy a wide, white smile. Then he took the unopened straw on the table and ripped the paper free from the plastic.

  With a spin of his fingers, he balled up the paper. I knew before he was finished that it was going into one end of the straw.

  Sure enough, he loaded the ball, grinned at me and brought the empty end to his lips. Then he took aim. One hard puff and the paper ball went flying toward Poppy’s nose.

  “Jamie!” She swatted the straw as they both laughed.

  This guy was a goof. No wonder he wanted to be around kids all day. He’d fit right in.

  I’d only met him one beer ago, but I’d already pegged him as the class clown. The guy cracking jokes and playing games. The guy who’d make a fart noise just to lighten a somber mood. He was the guy who always had a smile and made sure everyone else did too.

  I liked that for Poppy.

  Which meant I was going to have to get used to them kissing.

  Poppy could use a good-time guy. She’d gone home to Alaska for the summer to live with our parents. She’d worked hard for three months to save some money for the upcoming school year, which meant there hadn’t been much in the way of fun.

  If I took a black light to Jamie’s forehead, I was sure I’d find the word fun written in invisible ink.

  “Where’s this new roommate?” I asked Poppy, hoping to keep her mouth busy with conversation instead of, well . . . Jamie.

  “She called to tell me that she was running late.” Poppy checked her phone. “That was about fifteen minutes ago, so she’ll probably be here soon.”

  “What’s her name again?”

  “Molly,” she and Jamie said in unison, then smiled at one another.

  “And I haven’t met her before?” I’d met quite a few of Poppy’s friends but I didn’t recall a Molly.

  “Nope. She lived in the coed dorms last year.”

  Our waitress walked past the table with a tray of waters but stutter-stepped when she spotted me. “Oh, shoot. I forgot your beer. Give me a few minutes.”

  “You know what? It’s okay.” I held up a hand, already sliding out of the booth. “I’ll just go to the bar and grab one.” Or two. Maybe three.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Yep. No problem at all. You guys want anything?” I asked Poppy and Jamie, but it was too late. In the ten seconds I’d stopped watching them, they’d returned to whispering in each other’s ears and I was all but forgotten.

  I walked away from the table, taking a necessary break from the happy couple. Along with watching them attempt to conjoin themselves in public tonight, I was also going to have to play nice with the roommate.

  Poppy had assured me this evening wasn’t her arranging some sort of blind double date. This was simply dinner and a chance to meet Jamie and Molly before I got too busy with my last two semesters of school.

  Though even with a heavy class load and part-time job in the evenings and weekends, I had a feeling I’d be seeing a lot of Jamie.

  I had to admit, he wasn’t a bad guy. The constant touching was annoying, but call it guy’s intuition, I knew Jamie wasn’t in this for an easy score. He liked her.

  I leaned my elbows on the bar and signaled for the bartender. “Bud Light.”

  He came over and checked my ID, then went to the cooler for my beer. I dropped some cash on the bar, took a healthy pull from the longneck and, in no particular hurry, began making my way back to our booth in the far corner of the narrow restaurant.

  Even from a
distance, I could spot Poppy and Jamie making eyes at one another. She’d never been like this around a guy before. A pang of older-brother possessiveness hit hard. I didn’t want to think of her as a grown woman. I didn’t want her to find a man who’d take over the things I did for her now, like changing the oil in her car or buying her Chinese food on Sunday nights. I wanted her to stay my little sister.

  But at the same time, I wanted her to find a decent guy. One I wouldn’t want to sucker-punch on their wedding day.

  “Oh, shit,” a woman cursed just as a slosh of cold beer coated my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No problem.” I switched my beer to the other hand and wiped off the wet one on my jeans. Then I looked at the woman who’d bumped into my arm.

  My mouth went dry.

  Framed by brunette curls was a face so stunning I wasn’t sure where to look first. Her brown eyes twinkled, their flecks of gold matching the shimmer of her eye shadow. Her skin was like porcelain, flawless and creamy except for the rosy blush of her cheeks.

  Her lips were painted a pale peach. Their delicate, soft color was sweet, a sharp contrast to those chocolate curls bouncing down her shoulders. Those curls screamed sex. They begged to be twisted around my fingers. To be splayed across my pillow.

  “You’re Finn, aren’t you? Poppy’s brother?”

  I forced my eyes away from her hair. “Uh-huh.” Smooth, dumbass.

  “I’m Molly.” She stuck out her hand, taking mine and doing the handshake for us both.

  This was the roommate? Yep. The woman of my dreams was my sister’s college roommate. Fuck me.

  “You don’t have freckles either,” she said, studying my face.

  No, I didn’t. Poppy and I both had red hair, mine a shade closer to auburn than her ginger. We’d inherited it from our mother but hadn’t gotten her freckles. None of which I could tell her because I’d forgotten how to speak.

  I took a swig of my beer as Molly glanced around the restaurant. I swallowed it down, remembering I was a senior in college, not mute. And definitely better than this with women.

  “We’re back there,” I said, gesturing to where Poppy and Jamie were sitting—and kissing again.