Читать книгу Her Holiday Family - Ruth Herne Logan - Страница 10
ОглавлениеTina grabbed the hardware store door handle Monday morning, emotionally sorting through the scene she had just passed. A crew of uniformed firemen, sifting through the remains of her café, searching for evidence of arson. Tina shivered at the thought that anyone would deliberately burn a building, risk harming others and destroy property.
It couldn’t be true. Mild crime was unusual here in Kirkwood Lake. Felony crimes like arson? Assault?
Virtually unheard of.
The door swung open beneath her grip, and she stepped in cautiously, looking left and right. Had Max forgotten to lock up? That seemed unlikely for a guy who made his living completing surreptitious missions, but—
“Tina, is that you? I’ve got coffee back here. Come get some. If you drink coffee, that is.”
“I owned a café. I live on coffee. Gimme.” She reached for the cup as she entered the back room, then stopped, surprised. “Max. They’re all done. Every last one.”
The array of broken equipment had been put back together, each one tagged with the owner’s name and the cost of repair. They formed a pretty line along Charlie’s back-room bench, then marched across the work floor, ready to be loaded into vehicles from the rear loading dock. There would be no reckoning with angry customers, no putting folks off, no begging for more time, hoping people understood business limitations brought on by Charlie’s illness. “I can’t believe this.” Tina turned in a full circle, then stopped when she faced Max again. “You stayed all night.”
“Not the first time I’ve stayed late somewhere. Won’t be the last.” He brushed off the sacrifice like it was no big deal, and that almost made her like him. She’d had enough of guys who promised one thing, then did another. Max’s casual treatment of his sacrifice for his family touched too many of those empty-promise buttons. He directed his attention to the coffee cup. “I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got flavored creamers and regular. And sugar. And artificial sugar.”
“Covering all the bases.” The fact that he’d gone the distance for his parents surprised her. And that he’d provided for her despite his lack of sleep? Downright sweet of him. “Max, this is so nice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He hesitated a moment, coffee in hand, as if wanting to say something. Tina prodded him as she stirred hazelnut creamer into her cup. “And?”
His next words surprised her. Because it was old news or because the sympathy in Max’s voice rang with quiet sincerity? Maybe both.
“I didn’t realize your parents were gone, Tina.” His gaze showed regret. “I’m truly sorry.”
Max’s years away had wrought lots of local change. Losing her parents had become a big part of that “new normal.” She sighed. “Me, too.”
“And your aunt owns The Pelican’s Nest now?” He sipped his coffee and shifted his attention to the east window. The steep peak of the restaurant profile was just visible beyond the parking lot. “I would have thought they’d leave it to you. Or give it to you. Something for all those years of work you put in.”
“Well. They didn’t.”
“Because?”
She didn’t want to talk about this. She didn’t want to rehash old Martinelli news the whole town already knew. But Tina knew if she didn’t answer, he’d just ask his parents. It wasn’t like anything stayed a secret in a small town. “My aunt and uncle were in a position to buy in. They promised to let me manage the business. My father had developed a bad heart, a combination of genetics and smoking, and he needed to step down. Mom and Dad moved to Florida to escape the tough winters and my uncle booted me to the curb.”
“He fired you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, man.”
He was feeling sorry for her, and the expression on his face said he couldn’t understand family acting like that, treating each other that way. Well.
Neither could she. “It was a long time ago.”
“Yes. But then you opened a café there.” He indicated the burned-out shell visible through the west-facing window. “With their restaurant right here.” He turned back toward the window facing the parking lot and whistled lightly. “Gutsy.”
Tina made a face. “Gutsy, yes. And maybe a little mean.”
“Mean?” He put away a handful of small tools as he scrunched his forehead. “How can that be mean?”
“Because as my business grew, their customers dwindled,” Tina admitted. “And that made my uncle grumpier than usual, and he was pretty miserable already. That couldn’t have been fun for Aunt Laura and Ryan.”
He raised one absolutely gorgeous brow at the mention of her cousin’s name.
“My cousin. Their only child. And now my uncle’s dead, my aunt’s running the place on her own with half the help she needs, and raising a kid who’s hanging with a rough bunch from Clearwater. So maybe if I hadn’t been bullheaded and put my café right under their noses...”
“Where your success would be painfully obvious...”
She frowned. “Exactly. Maybe things would be different. Maybe we could actually be like a normal family. Like yours.”
“Ah.”
“You have so much to be grateful for, Max.”
His face said he knew that.
“So staying away, leaving your parents and brothers and sisters, shrugging them all off...” She set her coffee cup down and faced him. “I don’t get it. I’d give anything to have a family. My parents are gone, my mom died two years after my dad, I’ve got no brothers or sisters, and my one aunt won’t acknowledge me if we pass on the street. I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.”
Sympathy deepened his expression. “You know, I never thought of family in terms of temporary until Mom called me with Dad’s prognosis. Reality smacked me upside the head and said head home, soldier. But you’re right, Tina. I’ve got a lot to make up for, but standing and talking won’t do anything but put me to sleep this morning. I’m going to pull the last of those Christmas displays out of the shed and bring them in. I promised Mom we’d get them into place today.”
He wanted a change of subject. So did she. She turned, flipped the Closed sign to Open and turned the key in the door. “Bring ’em in, Max. I’ll be happy to help.”
“Thank you, Tina. I’d appreciate it.”
He was playing nice
His generosity rankled Tina more. After seeing investigators comb through the cold morning rubble of her beloved business, discussing her family’s casual disregard for each other was more unwelcome than usual. But Max would know nothing about that, because Campbells looked out for one another.
She took care of a handful of customers while Max built a Christmas lights display case in their seasonal corner. Once he had it firmly in place, she helped stock the wide range of holiday lighting kits.
“Doesn’t it seem early to be putting out Christmas stuff?”
Tina gaped at him, then laughed. “You’ve been in the army too long. The stores start shelving Christmas items as soon as their back-to-school displays are depleted. By mid-September, most places are stocked, lit up and ready to roll with holiday sales.”
“And Thanksgiving gets lost in the shuffle.” Max’s lament surprised her, because it was a feeling they shared.
“I love Thanksgiving,” she admitted. “I love the simplicity, the warmth, the food. Of course, I’m Italian, why wouldn’t I love the food?” The look she sent him made him smile, but his grin turned to understanding when she added, “The whole idea of an entire country, praying their thanks to God, regardless of faith. I just love it.”
“You know, it’s funny.” Max eased a hip onto the sales counter as he grabbed a bottle of water. “When you’re in the field on holidays, most of the guys seem to feel the loss of Thanksgiving more than any other.”
“More than Christmas?”
“Yeah. I might be wrong.” He shrugged, thinking. “Most soldiers get stuff at Christmas. Even the ones who don’t have family are hooked up with agencies that send care packages to deployed soldiers. But on Thanksgiving, there’s nothing but memories of what was. What could have been. What might be again. If you make it back. Maybe it was just me.” He stood, stretched and tossed his bottle into the recycling tote. “But I don’t think so.”
She’d never thought of it that way. She’d helped on Wounded Warrior projects, she’d arranged pickups for the Vietnam Veterans thrift shops, but she’d never thought about how lonely Thanksgiving must be when you’re thousands of miles away from anything American. “Hey, if you need to catch some sleep, head home. I’ve got this. Earl will be here in an hour and we’ll be all set.”
“I’ll leave once Earl’s here,” Max answered. He rolled his shoulders, stretched once more, and she did her best to ignore the amazing muscle definition formed by long years in the armed services. He moved to the front of the store. “I’m going to use the Cat to level the parking-lot stone. I can see where the water’s been puddling, and that won’t get any better once the snow hits.”
“Good.”
“And when I come back in, can you give me the lowdown on this festival thing we talked about yesterday? There’s not much time left, and I work better with a plan in my head.”
“From the looks of that back room, you do pretty well without a plan, too.” She didn’t say how she’d dreaded facing disappointed customers today, their expected equipment lying unfixed in the back room.
He shot her a grin over his shoulder. “Let’s see if they work before giving me too much credit.”
“You tested them, right?”
He ignored her question and kept on walking. Was he laughing? At her?
She finished the Christmas lights display as a customer arrived to pick up one of the newly fixed lawn mowers. When they wheeled their repaired machine out the back door, she felt a stab of pride. It might not be a big deal that Chuck Beadle was going to be able to give his yard a last mowing it didn’t really need, but it was important that their efforts to maintain Charlie and Jenny’s business as he fought his battle with cancer were successful. And without Max, it wouldn’t have happened, so she needed to give credit where credit was due.
Her cell phone signaled an incoming call. She pulled it out, saw the realty office number and picked up quickly. “Myra, good morning.”
“Hey, good morning to you, Tina! I’m emailing you a short list of potential sites for your café if you’re still thinking of Spencerport as your go-to place.”
“I am,” she replied. “That or Brockport.” She’d done her homework and these Erie Canal locations in Western New York had lots of potential. “They both have proximity to the expressway, and they’re on main-feeder corridor to other towns. What I want is a west-side-of-the-road location and a drive-through for those a.m. customers.”
“Did you have a drive-through in Kirkwood?” Myra asked.
“I was lakefront, so no, I didn’t. And we’re a destination spot, not a commuter town, so it’s a different configuration.”
“Won’t you miss the water?”
Miss the water?
Yeah, absolutely. But if she wasn’t willing to sacrifice something to change things up, nothing would ever happen, and that option didn’t cut it anymore. The time for change was here. Now. “Not if I have a view of the canal,” she promised. “Or at least proximity to it so folks can grab a cuppa, head for the canal walkway and stroll along the banks watching the boats. Those villages are a walker’s dream, so no. I won’t miss the water.”
It was an outright lie. She knew it, and she was pretty sure Myra’s silence said she recognized Tina’s resignation, but was kind enough not to call her on it.
Tina loved the water. She loved taking her little boat out on calm summer days. Dropping a line just off the docks outside the Kirkwood Lodge where perch and bass gathered in the heat of summer. She’d caught her share of fish that way, a sweet respite from work. Private time, time to think. And pray. And dream.
But her dreams were gone now. Ruined.
She promised Myra she’d look at the property listings in the email and get back to her. Another customer walked in, then another, and pretty soon she was too busy to think about smoldering dreams and ruined hopes. She’d promised herself she’d never get mired in the past again. She meant to keep that promise.
* * *
“I brought Beezer in to keep you company,” Jenny Campbell announced as she came through the back door of the shop a little later. “And I’m going to drag Max home to catch some sleep. I think that’s a good trade, don’t you, Tina?”
“Leave the dog and take Max?” Tina sent Max a look that said she approved fully. “I think I’m getting the better end of this deal.”
“Hey, Beeze.” As Tina moved their way, Max squatted low and gave the aging golden retriever a long belly rub the dog loved. “You missing the action, old boy?”
“He is.” Jenny tipped a mock frown down to the beloved pet. “I reminded him that his master is sick and good dogs stay by their master’s side.”
“They do in books,” Tina agreed. “But Beeze was raised in town. He likes to check out the hustle and bustle of the shop.”
“He’s restless if he’s home too much,” Jenny admitted. “When I let him out, he starts prowling the yard as if looking for a way down to the village. I’m afraid he’ll wander close to the road and won’t hear a car coming around the bend.”
“Well, he can keep an eye on Tina if I’m heading home.” Max grabbed his bomber jacket from the back hook as Earl finished up with a customer. The thought of a few hours of sleep sounded real good now. “You guys will be okay?”
“Tina will boss me around, and I’ll answer any fix-it questions that arise.” Earl’s wry tone said he was only partially kidding. “Same old, same old.”
“Women are bossy creatures.” Max smiled at the older man, then turned his attention to Tina. “We never did talk about the festival thing. My bad. It got busy and—”
“Max, we can’t expect you to do the festival, too.” Jenny frowned as she caught the gist of the conversation. “That’s not fair. You came home to have time with Dad. If we keep you working day and night, then—”
“We’ll make time for both, I promise. I managed to run a unit with a lot of guys and barely got my hands dirty, Mom. I’m good at delegating. But first I need to know what’s going on.” He turned back to Tina. “I don’t suppose you have time to come over tonight and go over things? That way we could have Mom and Dad’s input, too.”
“You can have supper with us.” Jenny’s face said inviting Tina to supper made everything better. Max wasn’t so sure Tina would agree now that he was on hand, but she’d been civil all day, and that was a sweet improvement. Of course they’d been busy from the moment they unlocked the doors, so maybe the key to keeping Tina happy was keeping her busy.
“I’ll come over once we close up,” Tina promised. “And I’ll bring Beeze along. That way he’s got the best of both worlds.”
“Thank you, Tina.” When Jenny gave Tina a big old hug, Max realized their relationship had grown close over his years away. His mother’s next words confirmed it.
“I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Jenny’s voice stopped short of saying she wanted Tina to stay right here in Kirkwood, but the inflection was clear.
Tina winked as she headed for the register area. “Back at ya. Gotta go. Mrs. Lana is here for her leaf blower, and last night’s killing frost means she’ll be really glad to have it back, especially with snow in the late-week forecast.”
“I love this.” Max stopped at the back door and swept the town center a long, slow look of appreciation. “The old town buildings. The lake. The decorations that look like an old New England village. Now that I’m home and see it all again, I realize how much I missed it.”
Jenny looped her arm through his as they went through the back doorway. “Always something to miss, no matter where we are. But I’m glad you’re here, that I don’t have to run down the coast to see you. As fun as that is, I prefer having you home for a while. And I’m making your favorite dinner, so once you’ve gotten some sleep, I intend to fatten you up.”
“A mother’s prerogative.” Max yawned as he moved toward his upgraded sports car. “It feels good to be home.”
* * *
Tina watched him pull away from inside the store.
He drove a muscle car, a total chick magnet. He flashed those big brown eyes and that smile like it was nothing, nothing at all. And every now and again he’d watch her, as if appraising.
Was he comparing the old her with the new?
And if so, what did he see? And why did it matter to her?
Sherrie Morgan breezed through the front door a few minutes later. “The promised cold snap has arrived,” she noted as the screen door bumped shut behind her. “And tell me if the 4-1-1 is right. Max Campbell is back and unattached? Girlfriend, this is not news anyone should keep to themselves unless, of course, one really, truly wants to keep it to herself?”
Tina retrieved the last repaired lawn mower and cautioned Sherrie with a look. “He is back, yes, to help his parents. Sherrie, come on, you know the situation. They’re delighted to have him here and I’m pleased to have someone with hardware knowledge on hand. I was totally in over my head last week. But you know Max as well as anyone. Here today, gone tomorrow.”
“Oh. Ouch. Unfair.” Sherrie picked out three boxes of Christmas lights, paused, then added a fourth to her stack. “He was eighteen,” Sherrie reminded her. “And people react to sadness differently. I think back to that day, losing Pete and Amy, and for years I kept wondering what I could have done differently. If I’d been less pesky, less bothersome, would they have stayed at home? Hung out by the campfire? Maybe knowing there’d be a kid sister around later pushed them to take the boat out. Have some romantic boyfriend/girlfriend time.”
“Sherrie—”
“I know it wasn’t my fault.” Sherrie brushed off Tina’s protest with a shrug. “I’m all grown up now, I know people make choices every day, and that I was just a normal kid, pestering her big brother and wishing I was as pretty as Amy with her long blond hair and those big blue eyes. And then they were gone, and it left such a hole. But just because Max didn’t come around doesn’t make him a bad person, Tina. He might have been older than us, but he was still a kid who’d just lost his best friend. And that couldn’t have been easy.”
Sherrie’s argument made perfect sense, but Sherrie hadn’t done a decade-long disappearing act after college. Max had. And Tina was done with capricious men, even if her heart managed to skip a beat every time Max walked into a room. Clearly hearts knew nothing and were not to be trusted. End of story.
“So you’re working together.” Sherrie ended the sentence on a note of question, hunting for an informational update. Tina gave her a look that said nothing interesting was happening. Or would happen.
“Of necessity. Jenny and Charlie need help. Max and I are available. Simple math, one plus one and all that.”
“Except you had a crush on him all through high school,” Sherrie mused as she pulled out her debit card. “Honey, when God plants your dream right in front of you, I think it’s an invitation to grab hold. See where life leads.”
“I know exactly where my life is heading, thanks.” Tina patted the thin stack of computer printouts. “These are possible café sites near the Erie Canal. Not so far away that I can’t visit, but far enough to wipe the slate clean, Sherrie. And that’s something I desperately need. A new beginning, a fresh start.”
“And you’ve prayed about this, chatted it up with God, right?”
“I think the fire was a good sign that my time in Kirkwood has come to a close,” Tina told her while ignoring the fact she’d done no such thing. A thin ribbon of guilt tweaked her. “If you’re looking for signs, that one was pretty direct.”
Sherrie tucked her debit card back into her purse once Tina ran it through, but refused to be dissuaded. “If someone did set that fire, that’s no message from God, Tina. That’s a depraved act of humanity and shouldn’t go unpunished. And folks around here rebuild after disaster all the time. Look what happened after the floods last year. And those blizzards that took out three old barns? We’re rebuilders. We don’t give up. And I don’t even want to think about you being more than two hours away. We’ve been besties forever, so yes, selfishly, I want you here when my baby comes. Babies should have their godmothers close by, don’t you think?”
“You’re pregnant?” Delight coursed through Tina. Sherrie and her husband had been hoping for a child for years. With two sad outcomes behind them, a well-set pregnancy seemed almost impossible. But a tiny prick of envy niggled the rise of joy, because Tina had thought her life would be on a similar track by now. Married. A cute kid or two. Maybe a dog like Beezer, loving and easygoing. Surging happiness displaced the twinge of envy, and she grabbed her best friend in a big hug. “Tell me when.”
“In less than five months,” Sherrie said. “We kept it quiet until we were far enough along to be more confident, so in four and a half months, I’ll need your help. But you can’t help me if you’re so far away.”
Sherrie was right. She’d be little help from that distance, and starting a new business took a level of dedication that went beyond the norm. She remembered her early days with the café, long, tedious days, keeping overhead down while working to build business up. That meant lots of personal man-hours.
Was she ready to do that again?
The morning’s image cropped up once more, the firemen, sifting through the ashes, their movements kicking up the smell of old, wet, burned wood, a hunk of ugly set in the middle of the season of light.
What if this person was targeting her personally?
She knew the investigators were checking out Sol Rigby to see if he had a reason to torch his own place, but Tina doubted that. Sol was frugal, and he didn’t look well-off, but Tina was pretty sure the old guy was doing okay financially. Which meant he had no reason to want insurance money.
The realization that they would investigate her hit hard. They would check her financials, and while not great, they weren’t bad, either. And no way would she do such a thing.
But clearly the investigators thought someone had purposely burned down her place. The question was who? And why?
“I know the arson investigators talked to your aunt today. And I know this because Jim was with them,” Sherrie offered as if she’d read where her thoughts had wandered. “He didn’t repeat anything that was said, but he said it was a tough interview.”
“My café hurt her business.”
Sherrie nodded. “Which might be motive enough to get it out of the way.”
“Aunt Laura would never do that. Rocco, maybe.” Memories of her uncle’s temperamental tirades hit hard, but Rocco was gone, and Laura wasn’t the hurtful type. She was more mouse than lion and Rocco had taken advantage of that for years. “I know they’re in a tight spot. Rocco didn’t believe in life insurance so Laura and Ryan got left with nothing but a failing business and a stack of bills.”
“Well, he wasn’t the sort to look out for his family,” Sherrie replied. “Which means Laura’s trying to run the place alone because Ryan is no help. Jim said that bunch of boys from Clearwater are a tough group. They’re old enough to drive and he’s sneaking out to hang out with them. Laura’s so busy trying to do things on her own, no one’s watching the kid. And that means trouble’s on the way.”
Talking about this made Tina tired. She’d run the scenario through her head countless times, and had come up with nothing good. All the more reason to start anew somewhere else. She hated drama and avoided it at all costs, but burned-out businesses came with their own spectacle of tragedy.
“Right now let’s focus on this baby. Do we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“A boy.” Sheer delight said Sherrie was more than okay with the change of subject. “We found out today. Jim wanted to be surprised, but I said uh-uh. I wanted to know so I can give him the coolest little kid bedroom ever.”
“And Jim said, ‘Whatever you want, honey.’”
“Exactly!” Sherrie laughed and moved outside where Earl was loading the snowblower into the back of her pickup truck. “We’ll talk soon. Don’t make any rash moves, okay?”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“See you later.”
Excitement colored everything about Sherrie today. Her tone, her face, her eyes. And Tina was overjoyed for her friend. She understood the struggles Sherrie had faced, and now she’d pray for a happy ending, a beautiful healthy baby boy for Sherrie and Jim to hold and feed and do all that other stuff one must do with babies.
She and Sherrie had grown up together. Their family homes had been right next to each other. They’d shared classes together, dance instructors and soccer teams. She’d been Sherrie’s maid of honor five years ago, and Sherrie had a rose chiffon bridesmaid dress collecting dust in her closet from Tina’s short-lived engagement a few years after that. Evan Veltre had decided tall, buxom and raven-haired was more his style. Dumping her mid-engagement made her previous boyfriend’s infidelity seem mild by comparison. At least they hadn’t been engaged when the blonde caught his eye.
A niggle of sensibility tweaked her.
Had she been hurrying the process, wanting to fall in love? Had she been trying to fit the guy, rather than letting God’s timing take charge?
The pinch of common sense was nudged by a twinge of guilt. She did like to make her own path, chart her own course, a charge-ahead kind of woman in many ways. Sherrie had asked if she’d turned to prayer.
She hadn’t, not really. Was she too busy, too independent to trust God?
Beezer whined and pawed the door, ready to go. Tina drew a breath, switched off the lights, activated the alarm and went out the door with the big, gold dog ambling alongside her.
Wind tunneled down Main Street, tumbling the last of autumn’s leaves. They scurried along the street, pushed by the stiff breeze, gathering in curves and hollows.
Soon it would snow. And they’d continue to decorate the town in beautiful light, a beacon of Christmas hope and cheer. And once again she’d spend Christmas alone, no family, no beloved, no kids.
Beezer pushed his head up under her arm.
He wanted her to pet him. Talk to him. So she did just that on the drive to the Campbell house, happy that no one could see her talking with the big yellow dog, but more glad of his trusting company.
If nothing else crazy occurred in her life this year, she was determined to get herself a dog. Maybe.
Beezer yipped softly, as if telling her she didn’t need another dog, she could still share him. If she stayed.
And there was the crux of the problem. A big part of Tina didn’t want to stay and face past failures anymore.
