Cape Hope Capers Page 3

  “No need to tell me, Emma,” she winked under her latest confection of a hat. Wide-brimmed, with a wide blue sash which wrapped around the crown before coming down on either side, so she could tie a festive bow under her chin. “It’s been a long time since my last rendezvous, but I remember well how it goes.”

  Oh, boy. I didn’t know whether to smile and let the moment pass or ask for more details because, honestly, who wouldn’t? And something told me she’d be all too happy to share. Loudly.

  It was best to let it go. People were trying to eat—including children who didn’t need to hear about how things were done in Mrs. Merriweather’s day. “Okay, here’s your bran muffin and tea,” I said before waving the next customer forward.

  “I was starting to think you overslept, Emma,” Mr. Hutchins barked in his usual way.

  “Me? Never! You know how it is. You spend years waking up before dawn to keep the drill sergeant off your back…” I jerked my head toward Mom. “It becomes a habit.”

  The old Marine laughed heartily at this. “I only wish my drill sergeants had been as sweet and lovely as this one. More boys would’ve enlisted.”

  “Oh, you.” Mom blushed, waving a hand.

  “Don’t let the sweetness fool you,” I warned. “She’s a real taskmaster under that smile and those dimples.” Yes, yes, get Mom in a super good mood before bringing her world crashing down around her. Great thinking.

  Maybe she’d take it well. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since the divorce. Business was better than ever, she had a lot of great friends who’d kill for her. She had plenty of life left in her, too. There was no reason she couldn’t find a man in her fifties, for heaven’s sake.

  She was devoted to the café, though. Sweet Nothings had already been a huge part of her life even when she was married and raising two girls. Now that the marriage was no more and her girls were grown? It meant everything.

  Whoever she found would need to have a lot of patience regarding her work schedule.

  Or maybe, just maybe, she’d need to take a step back and loosen her death grip on the reins.

  “You know,” I murmured once Mr. Hutchins had stepped away, “he has a point.”

  “What point?” she chuckled.

  “You’re too pretty and have too nice a nature to be stuck behind the counter all day.”

  “Where do you think I should go? To the kitchen?”

  “You know what I mean.” I turned away from the register to brew espresso for a cappuccino. “You need to live a little. Get out more. Meet new people.”

  “Like I don’t already know enough people.”

  “Mom.”

  “Emma.” She shot me a weary look. “Please, let’s not get into the conversation about my working too hard. You know who you sound like.”

  And this was not the time to turn the conversation around to my father, who was exactly who she was thinking of then. Smooth move on my part. “You devote so much time to my happiness, and Darcy’s. Since when is it a crime to want you to be happy, too?”

  “I’m happy. I am!” she insisted when I rolled my eyes. “This is my dream. Running this café. It’s like the hub of the town, have you ever noticed? Not to pat myself on the back…”

  “Pat away,” I urged. “You deserve the credit.”

  “It’s where people gather. They come in, they feel like they’re visiting friends. That means everything.”

  “I completely agree. But Mom, it’s not everything. Not completely. I want you to have fun, too!”

  “I have fun. This is fun!” Her wide smile hardened when she splashed coffee on her apron. “See? Fun.”

  “Oh, so much fun,” I agreed, shaking my head. She was incorrigible. A hopeless romantic who all but thrust her daughters toward the nearest men, yet she couldn’t find it in herself to try again.

  “You should try online dating.” That came from Mrs. Dudley, one of the teachers at the local elementary school. She was my first-grade teacher, which even all these years later made it weird for me to serve her and have an adult conversation.

  I mean, I once had an accident in the middle of a handwriting lesson. Not the sort of thing I liked to remember, but it always came rushing back whenever I saw her.

  Mom scoffed at this. “No way! I wouldn’t know the first thing about it. And who would want to get involved with a woman who only spends a few hours a day away from work?”

  “Which is why you should also hire extra people to cover shifts,” I suggested. “So you can step away sometimes, take a breather.”

  She shook her adamant little head. “I can’t imagine it. What in the world would I do?”

  “Live?” I suggested. “Have fun? Get a life—no offense?” I squeaked when Mom turned to glare my way.

  “This is my life. I like it just fine the way it is. And unless you’d like to have a fight over this, young lady, I suggest we change the subject.”

  I exchanged a look with Mrs. Dudley which very clearly said it was time to let things go. I knew what it meant when Mom’s bottom teeth jutted out like a bulldog’s.

  “Okay. Let’s change the subject,” I agreed as I reached into the bakery case to pull out a blueberry muffin for Mrs. Dudley.

  As it turned out, I didn’t have to be the one to change it.

  The door flung open—like, literally burst open so hard the bell clanged instead of chiming merrily—framing my Auntie Nell and her stormy face and her clenched fists and her general air of wanting to murder somebody.

  Funny thing, but I had the feeling I knew what had her so upset. Short of vaulting over the counter, knocking down a few geriatrics and maybe breaking their hips, there was nothing I could do to stop her or keep her outside.

  “Hey, Mom, can you… go do something in the kitchen? Lola might need something,” I suggested, staring across the room with roughly the same amount of horror as someone watching a funnel cloud bearing down on them. So I imagined, anyway.

  It was too late. Certain disasters were unavoidable, it seemed.

  “Nell? What’s the matter?” my poor, innocent mother called out.

  “You don’t know?” Nell gasped as she worked her way through the waiting customers. “Oh, Sylvia.”

  “Maybe let’s not talk about this now?” I suggested with a smile tight enough to crack my teeth. “Maybe this isn’t the time or place?”

  “This is something you know about?” Mom asked. The poor woman was so confused, her head kept swinging back and forth between Nell and me.

  I couldn’t have begged Nell any harder with my eyes. If I’d dropped to my knees with my folded hands raised, I didn’t think I could get my point across any better.

  “Um, yeah. I think. Granted, I don’t know what Nell has in mind, but I think I have a pretty good idea? And I think maaaaaybe it doesn’t need to be shared right here and now? In the café? With all these people around?” I shrugged.

  Maybe I could pull the fire alarm, and everybody would leave.

  “Emma makes a good point. I thought you knew.” Nell’s face fell. “I guess it’s best to learn these things from a loved one.”

  “Wow, never would’ve considered that,” I muttered under my breath.

  “We can go to the kitchen,” Mom suggested, casting a look my way as she led Nell back there.

  Leaving me with a café full of customers, all of whom wondered what the heck was going on. Something told me they’d know all too well before long. I put on as genuine a smile as possible and continued with my work.

  Before something crashed in the kitchen and poor, traumatized Lola came flying out like somebody shot her out of a cannon.

  “Oh, honey!” I gasped, bending to pick her up. “I’m sorry.”

  “Is everything okay back there?” one of the unfamiliar tourists asked. “And do you typically handle a dog here in the café?”

  Dang it.

  “I’ll put her back in her bed and wash my hands and be right back out. Please, excuse me. This is a very…
strange day.” I practically fled to the kitchen, where the sight of an overturned prep bowl greeted me on entrance.

  And beyond that, my mother. Standing with her hands covering her face.

  Nell looked like she wished she’d never left the house that morning. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed over Mom’s shoulder as she gave her a hug.

  “Maybe you should take her home. Hey, Mom.” I rubbed her back in passing. “Why don’t you go home for a while? Or, all day. Whatever the case may be. I’ve got things under control here.”

  “I never thought…” Mom mumbled from behind her hands. “I never imagined this.” I had to turn away. It was too much. I knew this would happen, but I couldn’t imagine how it would hurt to watch it happen.

  “I’ll take her home,” Nell whispered, and all I could do was nod. I had to get back out to the register, where people were still waiting to be helped. Or so I hoped, after the drama they’d just witnessed.

  “Clean hands!” I announced, holding them up as I emerged from the kitchen. “Washed ‘em twice. Let’s get some sugar and caffeine up in our faces, folks!”

  “Is your mother all right?” Mrs. Merriweather asked from her chair against the wall.

  “She’s fine. But she’ll be taking some much-needed time off today. She works endlessly, you know?”

  “Does it have to do with the baby?”

  I almost dropped a scone on the floor. The room went quiet, and more than a few pairs of eyes settled on me. And my stomach.

  “It’s not mine,” I hissed, glaring.

  So, word had spread. Fabulous. I should’ve known, obviously, having lived in the town all my life. News spread like a rash around there. And just about everybody was willing to be a carrier.

  Which meant.

  Oh, no.

  Moments later, the door opened rather violently once again. This time, a girl who looked a lot like me entered the café with red-rimmed eyes and cut straight through the crowd, going to the kitchen. Once again, quite a few people looked around in confusion.

  “Does this happen a lot?” one random person asked another.

  “Excuse me. I’m sorry. I really am.” I cringed hard enough to hurt before dashing to the kitchen.

  Where Darcy was on the floor, cuddling Lola while crying into her fur.

  “Oh, Darce,” I whispered. She didn’t look up.

  “Hey, anybody work here?”

  I leaned back through the doorway and was about to ask the customer to have just a tiny bit more patience, that I’d be with them in just a second, when it became clear this wasn’t just any old customer.

  It was a customer who looked a lot like Deke Bellingham, who wore a familiar smile as he slid familiar sunglasses away from his familiar face.

  He jerked a thumb toward the door. “A bunch of people left as I was coming in. They didn’t seem happy. What’s going on?”

  He had a bad habit of asking questions like that.

  Chapter Five

  “And that’s why the whole world was falling apart at exactly the moment you walked into the café today.” I lifted my wineglass and tilted it Deke’s way before raising it to my lips. Yes, wine was just what this day called for.

  Deke blinked hard. “Oh. Wow. That’s a lot.”

  “And lucky you, happening to walk in as disgruntled customers left in a huff.” Maybe I needed another glass.

  “It wasn’t that many. And they were probably tourists, anyway.”

  “Tourists who leave reviews.”

  “I don’t think your mom’s café needs to rely on reviews.”

  “No, I guess you’re right,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t help, either.”

  He sighed while leaning forward, reaching across the table to close a hand over my good wrist. It wasn’t exactly unlike him to be physical—we’d kissed, and it was amazing—but we hadn’t spent a ton of time together, either, thanks to his wacky schedule conflicting with mine.

  His touch was welcome. Just… different. Something I could see myself getting used to.

  “You can’t take everybody’s problems on your shoulders.” His smile was warm, caring, and utterly necessary just then. “Frankly, I think it was wrong of your Aunt Nell to barge in while there were customers and lay something like that on your mom.”

  “You know, I was thinking the same thing,” I admitted. “It’s not like her to be so thoughtless. How did she think Mom was going to react? Obviously, she’d be stricken.”

  “You should take it up with her.”

  I pulled my hand back, aghast. “Oh, I don’t wanna start a fight.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a fight,” he reasoned. “You’re an adult. You’re not a little kid. You don’t have to, I don’t know, defer to people just because they’re older than you. This is your mom, your family. I know your Aunt Nell is very close to family, but it isn’t her name that’ll be dragged around because of this.”

  “You make a good point.” I wasn’t just saying that, either. He had a way of getting me to relax. My breathing slowed, my shoulders loosened. “It’s always been sort of a joke, you know? The way people gossip in town. The café is gossip central. But that isn’t always appropriate.”

  “Maybe it’s time to let people know how inappropriate it can be,” he suggested in a soft voice.

  “Not maybe. Definitely.” I could smile for real now. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. See? I knew there was a reason this was the exact week I was planning to visit. So, how’s it feel?”

  “How’s what feel? Having you here? It’s pretty nice.”

  “Thank you, but not what I was talking about.”

  My cheeks flamed. I hoped the dim lighting in the restaurant was enough to hide it. “Oh. What were you talking about?”

  “Being a big sister! You’ve been the little sister your whole life. Now, you’ll be the one somebody looks up to, and oh, gee, I almost feel sorry for the kid.”

  “I sure have missed your sense of humor. It’s such a delight.”

  “You know I don’t mean it.”

  “I have my doubts sometimes.”

  “Well, I don’t. I was only kidding around. So? What do you think about the baby coming? You’ve spent the salad and appetizer courses telling me how your mom broke down and how Darcy practically drowned Lola in tears. What do you think? How do you feel?”

  There was something about his probing gaze. It left me wanting to open up, totally and completely, and that was a dangerous impulse. Deke was a great guy who, for some strange reason, I couldn’t help but feel attracted to.

  The reason wasn’t so strange. When I stopped putting up barriers between us, it was obvious he was the whole package. A little flighty when it came to some things. When he was in his zone, there was no interrupting him for anything.

  Not even for common courtesy. I’d learned that one the hard way.

  Otherwise, he was great. Supportive, a calm head in a crisis. Hot. Pretty darn hot. The light linen suit he wore for our dinner date was a departure from his usual jeans and button-down shirt, but I was liking it on him.

  One thing would never change. His penchant for leaving the top two buttons of his shirt undone. I didn’t know what I’d do if I ever saw him in a tie.

  He was waiting for me to answer, waiting with patience and kindness and genuine interest. I only wished I knew what to say.

  “I guess I’m happy about the baby. Dad is thrilled, like over the moon excited. And this is Holly’s first baby, so she’s very excited, too. But since she’s over thirty-five, the doctor is concerned—”

  “Hang on a sec. I’m glad your dad is happy, and I’m happy for Holly. But I didn’t ask about them, with all due respect. I asked about you. You have a tendency to absorb other people’s emotions and talk about them like they’re your own.”

  This slammed me back in my chair. “Wow. That sounds terrible.”

  “It’s not terrible! You’re a good person. A good, kind person.”

  “You made it
sound like I’m some co-dependent loser.”

  “Emma…” His eyes slid closed. “I meant nothing like that. I only want to know how you feel. What you’re thinking. Not in relation to your parents or your sister or anybody else. Just you. How do you feel about this new addition to your family?”

  I resisted the impulse to squirm in the chair. The fact was, his questions made me acutely uncomfortable. This was always going to be a thorn for us, I suspected, the way he made me look at myself even when I didn’t particularly want to.

  Was he right about me?

  He had to be, since it was way too much of a challenge, coming up with something to say that came only from me. “Uh, well, I love babies. I look forward to taking care of him or her.”

  “That’s a start,” he grinned.

  “I know Holly will make a good mother, and I already know how good Dad is at that sort of thing. So I’m not worried about what the baby will be born into.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “I do wish Darcy would come around, and no, this isn’t about her. I want the baby to feel loved.”

  “I’m sure it will, even if one of its older sisters isn’t super enthused.”

  “I guess.” The more I thought about it, the deeper my discomfort. “I might be a little jealous.”

  “Jealous?” His eyebrows shot up. “Of who? Holly? This is a left turn.”

  “No, not of Holly. Of the baby. It’s so weird.” I decided to look out the window at the brilliant sunset over the bay.

  “Why, Emma?”

  “It’s dumb. I feel so stupid for even saying that.” I waved a hand, still looking away.

  “I really do want to know. Not to make you feel bad, but to see if I can help you feel better. You know you can trust me, right?”

  Trust. What a funny word. I used to think I could trust a man, and look where that got me. Though life had hardly turned out badly, I was still timid when it came to trust. “I envy the baby because it will get more time with Dad, I think. If it weren’t for the baby, he wouldn’t want to retire. He’d probably work until his last breath. Now? He has a reason to step back, collect his pension, and spend his time with this new person. And that sorta sucks, to be blunt.”