try not to be so disruptive. Wouldn’t want you to lop off
a limb.” She grinned and hip-swayed away.
He turned and scraped the grill so hard he expected to raise
curls of stainless steel. He should have let her shake her moneymaker until she
wore it out. Torturing his libido was one thing.
Touching his heart was something else entirely.
CHAPTER FIVE
“T OO BAD ABOUT Rusty’s unit,” Rosie
said cheerfully over the supper dishes that night. “We’ll just make the best of
it.” The woman wasn’t even trying to hide her delight.
Cara felt glum. They were stuck another day. What if he had to order parts? It made her heart race
to think about it.
“Now that green sauce you put on the spaghetti,” Rosie said,
drying a plate. “What was it again?”
“Huh? Oh. Pesto. Throw basil, pine nuts, Parmesan, garlic and
olive oil into the food processor and flip the switch. Really easy.”
She’d brought up the food processor from the café pantry, where
she’d found the coffee grinder, as well as an industrial citrus press she’d used
to make fresh lemonade. People had loved it, which had really boosted her
confidence. Rosie had inspired her.
“Too much fuss for one person.”
“The basil’s right in your garden.”
“The garden’s too much fuss, as well. I’m too old to be
crawling around in the dirt.” She sounded depressed all of a sudden.
“You’re not that old,” Cara said.
“I’m sixty. That’s plenty old in my family.”
Rosie said it so ominously that Cara stopped washing and turned
to her. “Are you feeling okay?”
“’Course I am.” She slammed the cupboard door hard enough to
rattle the china inside. “And when I’m not, there’s nothing to be done about
it.” Rosie dropped into a chair at the table, tossing the red-checked dish towel
over her shoulder. “Let the rest air dry.” She sounded weak.
Like Grandma before her heart
attack.
Cara put down her sponge, dried her hands and sat across from
Rosie.
“Quit eyeballing me like that,” Rosie said. “I’m fine. I’m
about done with the café, too. Writing’s on the wall. No one wants to sit down
to a meal anymore. It’s all fast-food, rush, rush, gulp it down. When a café’s
done, it’s done.” She shrugged, then tried to smile, but failed. “Besides,
closing the place is about the only way I’ll get rid of Jonah.”
“What do you mean?”
“He came here to sort out Evan. Evan’s sorted, but Jonah’s
still here.”
“I get the feeling Jonah doesn’t think Evan’s okay.”
“That’s Mr. Doom and Gloom for you. His divorce ran him down
and he hasn’t peeled himself off the tarmac yet.”
Rosie reached for the jelly bean bowl on the counter and set it
in the center of the table. She fished out two black ones and popped them in her
mouth.
Black meant bad luck will befall
you.
“What happened? Do you know?” Cara ate a green jelly bean to
reverse it.
“Hardly. The man’s secretive as a spy. I have to think it
started with the miscarriage.”
“His wife lost a baby?”
“Two of ’em. Twin girls. Seven months along, I think.”
“How devastating.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Rosie ate a yellow jelly bean, then tossed in a blue
one. You’ll come into money.... You’ll take a
trip.
“You should have heard him when she got pregnant. He was so
amazed. It was like he’d won the lottery and a trip to the moon, like he
couldn’t believe his luck, even though millions of people have babies every
day.”
“But then he lost them.” Cara couldn’t imagine that
heartbreak.
“He sent me a card. Couldn’t face the phone, I guess. Wrote
that the babies were gone. Gone. That was how he put
it.”
Thinking of Jonah, Cara ate an orange jelly bean, which meant your wish will come true. “When did that
happen?”
“Two years ago. The divorce, I have no idea. When he offered to
come out to help Evan and me, I said, What about your
business? What about your wife? Know what he said?”
“No.”
“Same
a limb.” She grinned and hip-swayed away.
He turned and scraped the grill so hard he expected to raise
curls of stainless steel. He should have let her shake her moneymaker until she
wore it out. Torturing his libido was one thing.
Touching his heart was something else entirely.
CHAPTER FIVE
“T OO BAD ABOUT Rusty’s unit,” Rosie
said cheerfully over the supper dishes that night. “We’ll just make the best of
it.” The woman wasn’t even trying to hide her delight.
Cara felt glum. They were stuck another day. What if he had to order parts? It made her heart race
to think about it.
“Now that green sauce you put on the spaghetti,” Rosie said,
drying a plate. “What was it again?”
“Huh? Oh. Pesto. Throw basil, pine nuts, Parmesan, garlic and
olive oil into the food processor and flip the switch. Really easy.”
She’d brought up the food processor from the café pantry, where
she’d found the coffee grinder, as well as an industrial citrus press she’d used
to make fresh lemonade. People had loved it, which had really boosted her
confidence. Rosie had inspired her.
“Too much fuss for one person.”
“The basil’s right in your garden.”
“The garden’s too much fuss, as well. I’m too old to be
crawling around in the dirt.” She sounded depressed all of a sudden.
“You’re not that old,” Cara said.
“I’m sixty. That’s plenty old in my family.”
Rosie said it so ominously that Cara stopped washing and turned
to her. “Are you feeling okay?”
“’Course I am.” She slammed the cupboard door hard enough to
rattle the china inside. “And when I’m not, there’s nothing to be done about
it.” Rosie dropped into a chair at the table, tossing the red-checked dish towel
over her shoulder. “Let the rest air dry.” She sounded weak.
Like Grandma before her heart
attack.
Cara put down her sponge, dried her hands and sat across from
Rosie.
“Quit eyeballing me like that,” Rosie said. “I’m fine. I’m
about done with the café, too. Writing’s on the wall. No one wants to sit down
to a meal anymore. It’s all fast-food, rush, rush, gulp it down. When a café’s
done, it’s done.” She shrugged, then tried to smile, but failed. “Besides,
closing the place is about the only way I’ll get rid of Jonah.”
“What do you mean?”
“He came here to sort out Evan. Evan’s sorted, but Jonah’s
still here.”
“I get the feeling Jonah doesn’t think Evan’s okay.”
“That’s Mr. Doom and Gloom for you. His divorce ran him down
and he hasn’t peeled himself off the tarmac yet.”
Rosie reached for the jelly bean bowl on the counter and set it
in the center of the table. She fished out two black ones and popped them in her
mouth.
Black meant bad luck will befall
you.
“What happened? Do you know?” Cara ate a green jelly bean to
reverse it.
“Hardly. The man’s secretive as a spy. I have to think it
started with the miscarriage.”
“His wife lost a baby?”
“Two of ’em. Twin girls. Seven months along, I think.”
“How devastating.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Rosie ate a yellow jelly bean, then tossed in a blue
one. You’ll come into money.... You’ll take a
trip.
“You should have heard him when she got pregnant. He was so
amazed. It was like he’d won the lottery and a trip to the moon, like he
couldn’t believe his luck, even though millions of people have babies every
day.”
“But then he lost them.” Cara couldn’t imagine that
heartbreak.
“He sent me a card. Couldn’t face the phone, I guess. Wrote
that the babies were gone. Gone. That was how he put
it.”
Thinking of Jonah, Cara ate an orange jelly bean, which meant your wish will come true. “When did that
happen?”
“Two years ago. The divorce, I have no idea. When he offered to
come out to help Evan and me, I said, What about your
business? What about your wife? Know what he said?”
“No.”
“Same
Similar Books
