by Cara Colter
“Or maybe it was at Gar’s birthday that I laughed like this. He was turning four. Simon is six. Gar got a cake shaped like Fuzzy Peter—that’s a cartoon character, not something obscene—and then he wouldn’t let anyone eat it. He was standing guard over that cake, and Simon sneaked in and grabbed a handful from behind, and then I don’t exactly know what happened, but the cake fight was on. Thank goodness we were outside.”
His laughter was rich and warm at the memory. That feeling of longing in Krissy intensified. What he was describing was like families she had seen in movies and read about in books, but, except for Aunt Jane, it was the very thing she had never had: connection.
She wanted to know more.
“For research purposes,” she said, acting as if her interest in him was purely clinical, so she could play the role he’d assigned, “you really call your nephew Garfunkel? What’s his real name?”
“I think it might be Daniel,” Jonas said, pretending not to know. “The other one may be Henry. No, Harry.”
She laughed, and she could tell that was his intent.
“Boring names to be sure,” he continued. “I tried to tell Theresa we could have a family contest to name them, but she’s a bit of a spoilsport that way. She seemed to think naming kids was a serious business.”
“It is!” Krissy said sternly.
“Uh-huh,” he teased her, unconvinced. “When’s the last time you laughed like today, Krissy?”
She cast about for an answer. She couldn’t find one, which she thought was thoroughly pathetic.
“I teach kindergarten,” she said. “There’s a laugh a day, for sure.”
But his gaze on her seemed to be finding a deeper truth. “You said the other night your family wasn’t fun. You said a war zone. I’m really sorry.”
She did not want his pity! And yet, his gaze on her, steady, did not hold pity. Sympathy perhaps, definitely compassion. Why did she feel suddenly compelled to tell him the truth?
Maybe so his expectations of her at his family reunion wouldn’t be too high.
“The only fun in my family was in the word dysfunctional.” What had possessed her to say that? Did she think he would laugh? He didn’t. The look in his eyes, the one that made her want to confide in him, deepened.
“My mother and father did not like each other. They got married because they had to. And the reason they had to was me, the unexpected pregnancy. It was a war zone. They divorced, finally, when I was in my teens, but in some ways that made things worse. I was suddenly at the very centre of every single disagreement. It seemed I was the club they liked to hit each other with.”
He sat up on his elbow. He looked down at her. He traced the line of her cheek with a gentle finger.
“Oh, Krissy,” he said. “Oh, Krissy.”
And for some reason, the way he said her name made her glad she had told him, instead of sorry.
It was a part of revealing who she really was, the masks coming off. But being totally authentic with another human being created a feeling of intimacy—of trust—that felt even deeper than if they had given in to the temptation to kiss. She was not quite sure she was ready for this.
“So there you have it,” she said, trying for a breezy tone. “The reason I, personally, will never get married.”
She brushed his finger away from her cheek as if it was a bothersome fly. She leaped to her feet. The dog reluctantly lifted its head from Jonas’s lap and gazed at her.
“I had my aunt,” she said firmly. “It might not have been the rowdy kind of fun you just described, but she was the one who saved me, and almost everything we did together was pure fun. She unlocked the secrets of New York for me—the Russian Tea Room, Broadway and, of course, Fifth Avenue.”
Jonas looked unconvinced, somehow, that adult excursions with her aunt had replaced the joys of a boisterous family.
“Did you ever do kid things? Ride a bike, play in the mud?”
“Oh, uh, occasionally. I should probably get going,” she said, flustered, hating it that he seemed to be able to see her deepest longing. “Home. I have things to do.”
Jonas sat up lazily, then stood, brushing grass from his slacks. His hair was slightly rumpled, as if he’d had a nap. In such a self-contained man, the mussy hair was adorable.
But then adorable went out the window as he turned his back to her. “Did I get it all?”
She was in bad enough shape without being asked to inspect the seat of his pants. “Yes,” she said, her voice a squeak.
“What kind of things do you have to do?” Jonas asked, turning back to her. She was pretty sure he noticed the blush.
He was going to find out the truth! She played it safe. She was boring! But wasn’t that part of what today had ended up being about? Revealing truth?
“I’m doing a spring art project with the kids on Monday. It involves some prep.”
“What is it?”
“I’m making them into a garden: each of them will be a flower, with a big cutout that they put their face through. They’ll sing a song at assembly next week.”
He grinned. “I hope there will be a video.”
“And I have to get Aunt Jane’s affairs sorted out. I’ve been procrastinating. I have to get back into her office and box things up. I’ve given notice already, so I have to get out of there.”
He nodded. “Okay. I get it.”
She thought of his car and the way he dressed. She didn’t know, really, anything about him yet. But he looked like he would be at least as busy as she was and probably more so.
“We’ll walk back. I just thought ice cream was on the agenda.” He said it hopefully, and it was his hopefulness that did her in.
She had revealed so much of her authentic self to him: some strengths, that inner warrior coming out, and some weaknesses, the childhood on a battlefield that didn’t include any water balloons.
And he still wanted to spend time with her? Still, he was willing to put his busy life on hold for more time together?
Something sighed within Krissy. A sigh of pure surrender.
“There’s always time for ice cream,” she decided, and she was rewarded with his smile, a smile that a person could become utterly addicted to—a smile that could make every other activity and responsibility seem dull and uninteresting—before they even knew what had happened.
* * *
Jonas wasn’t sure why he had insisted on the ice cream. He was already on sensory overload, so aware of Krissy that his nerves were singing with it.
For one insane moment, wrapped up in the dog’s leash, pressed into the soft, womanly curves of her, he had found the temptation of her lips nearly irresistible. Somehow—maybe the warning bell in his brain screaming complications—he had managed, but only barely, not to accept the invitation of her lips.
If the dog had wrapped them in his leash after she had declared she was a warrior and let loose her hair, they’d probably be under a shrub somewhere acting like teenagers.
He should have realized, right then, this was a bad idea. That things were not going to go according to his plan.
His plan? Which was what?
Something utterly trivial like pretending to his sister and brother-in-law that Krissy and he were engaged so he could keep his car. That original mission seemed to be wavering like a mirage on a hot desert day.
Now, even the complication of the near kiss was being blurred with an even stronger desire: to see that playful light come on in her, to see her throw back her head and laugh.
Astonishingly, since he considered himself, unapologetically, the most self-centered of people, he realized it was no longer all about getting what he wanted—his car, the satisfaction of winning a bet—but about giving Krissy something.
A well-behaved dog. A carefree day. Laughter.
Even if buried in that altruism was
an ember of danger that could light his whole world on fire.
They walked down the main street of Sunshine Cove. It was the perfect backdrop for a perfect day: lovely little storefronts under colorful awnings, couples and families, old people and singles made their way in and out of antique stores and bookshops and bakeries. It wasn’t summer, but there was enough warmth in the air that the day felt summery and light filled.
Jonas realized the fragrance thick in the air from those abundant flower baskets that hung everywhere was so similar to Krissy’s.
“He’s never this good,” she said to Jonas in that whisper he was beginning to recognize as her keeping a secret from Chance.
“He’s tired. You want a good dog? Keep him played out.”
“I’m just not sure I have the time.”
“Invest three dollars in a Frisbee. That will do the trick.”
They arrived at Moo-Moo’s. It was under a pink-and-white-striped awning, white painted wrought-iron tables and spindly chairs on the sidewalk patio outside the front door. Jonas realized he had not been here in years, not even with his nephews. It occurred to him he avoided the places where the memories were the sharpest, and that this was one of them.
“I’ll stay outside with the dog if you want to go in and order,” he said, realizing this had been a mistake. He did not want to go in there. He reached for his wallet.
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“No, this is my deal.” A reminder to them both, hopefully, that this was, in the end, a business arrangement, an understanding between two people.
She looked as if she planned to argue, but then, as he passed her some money, didn’t.
“What would you like?”
“Surprise me,” he said, realizing handling that small challenge might reveal even more of the secret side of Krissy to him.
Chance flopped down under the table, settling on his feet.
“Hey, buddy, you’re cutting off circulation,” he told the dog, who ignored him.
Jonas watched Krissy through the window. Studying the menu, looking at the display cases. It was silly, but he couldn’t wait to see what she chose.
A few moments later she came out of the ice cream store, laden with a tray. He was not sure why he was so disappointed. It was a small thing. Krissy had decided not to surprise him, at all.
CHAPTER NINE
ON THE TRAY Krissy was balancing was her strawberry shake, served in the old-fashioned way that made Moo-Moo’s such a sought-after summer destination. The shake came in a tall thick frosted glass, and extra milkshake that couldn’t be fitted into the glass came in the steel mixing container with it.
Jonas saw that for him, she had chosen the Triple Chocolate Volcano Sundae.
And, of course, she had a treat for Chance.
Still, watching her come toward him with that tray, Jonas realized that sundae was one of the reasons he avoided this place.
Krissy carefully set the tray on the table. She gave Chance his treat: a little plop of doggie-friendly ice cream that Chance inhaled in one gulp.
And then came the surprise: she unloaded the rest of the tray, putting the strawberry milkshake in front of him. She took the sundae, and then slid into the seat across from him.
She saluted him with the spoon. “Let’s get to know each other,” she said.
She dug into that sundae with approximately the same enthusiasm that Chance had used for his treat.
“This is so good.”
The memory came, sharper.
His silence made her look up. “Is something wrong?” Krissy asked him.
Jonas could say no. And he should say no. And yet, he thought of her sharing her confidences with him.
He was shocked how much he wanted to tell her this, as if it was a burden he had carried, long and alone, and he needed to set it down.
He took a tentative sip of the milkshake. He could see why Krissy loved it so. It was rich and creamy, and the taste of strawberries was as magical and uncomplicated as a summer afternoon.
“Are you okay?” she asked again. She set down her spoon.
“Just memories,” he said.
“But good ones, right?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Bittersweet, I guess. There was never much money growing up. The resort and the dogs were a living for our family, but just. The heyday of the kind of resort they showed in Dirty Dancing was well over. So we didn’t get much in the way of extras. It was a big treat to come here. A once a year event, usually as our season was winding down.
“I never realized until I was in my teens that my Mom always ordered the cheapest thing on the menu.
“So I brought her here the Mother’s Day that I was sixteen. My driver’s license was pretty freshly minted in my pocket. I didn’t let her order. I bought her that.”
He nodded toward the mountain of whipped cream and chocolate sauce and ice cream melting in front of Krissy.
“She tried to smile, but she got these tears in her eyes. I guess there’s a day when a mother realizes maybe, just maybe, her kids are going to turn out all right. She was just so pleased. She ate every bite.
“Looking back, it seems so small. And too late. Why didn’t I see sooner how much she gave and how little she asked in return?
“Her and my dad died in the winter of that year. A car accident on a slippery road. People say funny things after a tragedy like that. Things like what a blessing that they went together. They loved each other so much.”
For a moment, he could not trust himself to speak. “But me and Theresa loved them that much, too. Theresa managed to turn everything they gave us into a gift. She has a life much like the one we experienced as children.”
“But you never got over it.”
Her words were so quiet.
“No,” he admitted, “never. I told myself for the longest time that becoming responsible for Theresa so young made me allergic to being responsible for another person.”
“But that isn’t it, is it?”
It was unnerving that she got him so completely.
“You love so deeply,” she said softly. “So deeply.”
And Jonas knew that was it exactly. He had experienced the kind of pain that came from losing someone you loved that much. “I’m not sure I could survive another loss like that.”
He glanced up at her. Her eyes were dark and wide, filled with an ache for him that was soothing rather than embarrassing, that made him glad he had confided in her, rather than regretful. Of course, because of her close relationship with her aunt, she would understand like few others would.
After a long time, Krissy nodded. “So here we are,” she said. “A match made in heaven. Two people who have experienced the terrible pain of love in very different ways, but with the same result. Sworn off it. Forever.”
“Forever,” he agreed.
She took a bite of her sundae. For someone sworn off love, he felt inordinately aware of her lips.
He took a sip of his shake. For someone sworn off love, she seemed inordinately focused on his mouth.
She looked away first. They finished their ice cream treats in silence, with eyes skittering everywhere but on each other.
On the walk home, it occurred to him the excursion had been a success only in one area. Chance was coming along nicely.
But really, if the goal was convincing Theresa and Mike this thing was real, there were other issues they should have tackled.
They stopped outside of her cottage.
“Are you still game for this?” he asked her.
“More than ever,” Krissy said firmly, as if sharing confidences had strengthened the agreement rather than sending it galloping off in unexpected directions.
“We need to start filling in some blanks,” he said, meaning they needed to get it back on track. And that didn’t mean sha
ring vulnerabilities. They needed to stick to the facts!
“How about if I pick you up for dinner Friday night?” he suggested.
“Maybe we could meet in New York? I only work half a day on Fridays, and I was going to go finish up some things at my aunt’s office.”
“That’s perfect. I have a great place in mind.”
* * *
Krissy considered that. Jonas would know all the great places. Of course he would. Did she even have the right dress for a great place in New York? Was she really already worried about that? Yes!
“I’ll pick you up from your aunt’s office around six. Bring a list of questions.”
“What kind of questions?” she asked.
“You know. Filling-in-the-blanks kind of questions. Knowing-a-person kind of questions. Who was your best friend growing up? What was your dog’s name? What was your favorite subject in high school? That kind of thing.”
“Okay,” she said, but the funny thing was she felt like she already knew quite a lot about Jonas without having any of those kinds of questions answered. He was a man who would take hours out of his life to drive someone home on a dark night. He was a man who could make a dog mind, firm and gentle by turns. He was a man who had suffered horribly at the hands of fate, and—despite what he said—he had not allowed it to make him hard or bitter.
“You have a bit of chocolate, right...” He touched her lip.
They stood staring at each other for a long time. Long enough that Krissy was well aware that knowing a person had nothing to do with who their best friend was growing up!
He jerked his hand away from her lip, which was a good thing, because she had nearly nibbled it.
It wasn’t until he had driven away that Krissy realized he was right. How very little she knew about Jonas. She hadn’t even thought to ask him what he did for a living! This fact-finding dinner was a great idea. Essential.
She touched her lip. Good grief! Was it? A woman could redefine what she thought essential was around a man like that!
* * *
Late Friday afternoon, Krissy stood in the middle of her aunt’s office. She glanced at the clock. It was time to get ready for Jonas. She took one last look around the office.