“Ooh. I can see that. But now?”
“I’ve been swinging by the bakery again in the afternoons. We chat and have fun—it’s almost the same as it was before. There are a few awkward pauses. So I asked if he wanted to come down and see you with me. I thought—hoped—maybe a day trip together would get things moving. I was sure he knew about the divorce, though. So when he said no—I figured maybe he’d changed his mind.”
Ruth closed her eyes. “I swear the two of you are going to drive me to an early grave. Just talk to him. Tell him. Even if he does know—which I don’t think is the case—he’s going to need to hear it from you.”
“Okay. I...thanks.”
Ruth glanced over at Gloria’s plate. “Are you going to eat?”
Gloria shook her head.
“Let’s head upstairs then. You can hold the baby.” Ruth grinned. “That always makes me feel better.”
Gloria stood and reached for her tray. She wasn’t positive holding a tiny baby was going to do anything other than stir up feelings she wasn’t ready to deal with, but spending a little more time in Ruth’s soothing presence was what her soul needed.
13
Jonah paced the length of the kitchen. He hadn’t been to church in two weeks. Skipping seemed easier than working to avoid Gloria. With Ruth and Corban in Boise and Micah and Serena in L.A., bailing out of hosting a family lunch had been easy enough. He’d heard from Corban that Gloria had been to visit Ruth. His heart panged. He could’ve gone with her. Seen Ruth and his nephew.
Spent the day with Gloria.
And that was the problem. He wanted that. Too much. She belonged to someone else.
His hands clenched into fists.
Oh, sure, Frank had seemed like a nice enough guy. But if she wanted him, why hadn’t she gone with him when he left? Why didn’t he stay? How could Frank be married to someone as amazing as Gloria and not appreciate it?
She’d been coming by the bakery, off and on. He’d made Malachi man the front and spent his time hovering by the kitchen door. She’d asked after him. The first couple of times, Mal had come back and tried to get Jonah to come say hi. He’d pleaded work.
He ached to see her.
She’s not free.
He wasn’t big on tattoos, but maybe that was something he ought to consider having permanently inked on his arm as a reminder to his wayward heart. Or...his friend in D.C. had called again last night. Maybe leaving was the better course of action. For everyone concerned.
Malachi slammed through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the front of the bakery and started signing furiously.
“Whoa. Slow down.” Jonah held up a hand and tried to focus on his brother’s wildly moving hands.
Malachi stomped his foot and started over. When he was finished, he pointed at the door and raised his eyebrows.
Jonah swallowed. Gloria was here and apparently his brother was done running interference for him. “Fine.”
Gloria looked up as Jonah entered, a hesitant smile on her lips. “Hi. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Malachi that angry.”
Jonah tucked his hands in his pockets and hovered behind the cash register. “It doesn’t happen often. But he can be a force to be reckoned with when he wants to. What can I get you?”
“I just wanted to say hi. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me. And...I have some things I’d like to say.”
“So do I.”
“Okay. Um. Do you want to go first?”
He nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. “Micah should be back tonight. I’ve got a couple of high school students coming in before and after school to help with the baking. They’re working out well enough. As long as someone’s here to keep them focused and on point. Micah and Malachi are both capable of that. So. I’m taking a job in D.C.”
Gloria’s lips parted and she drew in a sharp breath. She clamped her mouth shut and glanced to the side. “Wow. No wonder Mal’s mad. I...you’ll be missed.”
Were those tears in her eyes? Jonah fought the urge to leave the safety of the counter that separated them and pull her into his arms. That way led to madness. Even if she’d been going to say she’d miss him. It could only be as a friend. “I’m sure I’ll be back to visit. My whole family’s here. What did you want to say?”
“I’m not sure it’s relevant anymore. I’ll let you get back to work. I’m sure there must be a hundred things you need to do before you go. When do you start?”
A hundred and one if he counted actually telling his friend in D.C. he was taking the job. “We haven’t firmed those details up yet. Why don’t you let me decide if it’s relevant or not?”
Gloria hesitated, one hand on the door. Finally she gave a small nod. “Frank divorced me. It was final on Valentine’s Day.”
Jonah’s breath caught in his lungs and a thousand thoughts all clamored for priority in his brain. By the time he’d gotten a handle on the racing chaos, Gloria was backing out of her parking spot. Should he run after her? And tell her what? How much did this really change?
“If this is an April Fool’s joke, you need to have your sense of humor recalibrated.” Micah stomped into the living room of the farmhouse and stood in front of Jonah’s recliner, hands on his hips.
Jonah took the time to slip his bookmark between the pages of his latest read—ordered online, because he wasn’t sure just how long he was supposed to stay away from Page Turners—and set it aside. “Welcome home. You just get back?”
“Serena’s in the car. She checked her voicemail as soon as we landed and lo and behold, there’s a message from Gloria asking why no one had told her you were moving.” Micah’s scowl etched lines in his forehead. “As you can imagine, we were both wondering the same general thing.”
Jonah rubbed the back of his neck. He’d been avoiding calling his friend in D.C. As much as he missed cooking real food, the more he thought about going back to the city, the more his stomach hurt. “It’s not a firm decision yet.”
“That’s sure not what Gloria thinks.” Micah crossed his arms. “What’s going on?”
“Go home, Micah. You’ve got to be tired from traveling. Serena’s out in the car. Just let it ride, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow at the bakery.” Maybe by then he’d have some idea what to say.
“Seriously? How long have you been a part of this family?”
“Too long.” Jonah winced as the words slipped out.
Micah’s expression turned to stone. “I see. In that case, I guess I will go.”
“Micah, wait.” Jonah pushed the footrest down and stood, striding after his brother. “Hold on. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh, really? How did you mean it? I get it. We’re always in each other’s business. Sometimes it’s a royal pain in the rear. But I always remind myself it’s because we care—really care—about one another.” Micah jerked open his car door. “If you can’t see that—don’t understand that? Then maybe you should move to D.C. Who knows, maybe Melissa will take you back. I’m sure her latest relationship has ended badly by now.”
The knife cut straight through Jonah’s heart, just like Micah intended, most likely. His blood began to heat. “You have no right—”
“I have no right?” Micah snorted. “That’s rich, man. You know what? If you’re gonna leave, just do it. If you can’t see what you have here, then maybe we’re all better off without you.”
Micah slammed the car door and tore out of the driveway like a rocket. It was a minor miracle he didn’t leave tire marks in his wake. And also a good thing the road leading to Jonah’s house was generally empty.
Jonah watched his brother speed off into the evening and sighed. Was it really so wrong to want to get back to the career he trained for? His shoulders sagged. He could try and spin it that way, it wasn’t as if there was no truth to it, but if he was honest with himself he’d have to admit it was only the tiniest piece of the puzzle.
Gloria.
Jonah went back insi
de and picked up his book. She was divorced, sure. But that meant what? In two years they could start dating? Wasn’t that what conventional wisdom said? Wait two years after a divorce before dating? How was that any help at all? Two more years loving her and being unable to do anything about it was pretty close to the best definition of misery he could imagine.
No. He couldn’t sit around pining for Gloria another two years. And it was clear he wasn’t able to stay in Arcadia Valley and move on. Which meant D.C.
Didn’t it?
“Mal’s out sick today, you’re going to have to run deliveries when the baking’s done.” Micah slid muffin tins into the oven and glanced over his shoulder at Jonah.
“Why can’t you do them?”
“Because I’m not the one leaving, which means I’m in charge.”
Jonah frowned. “I’m still here. I’m pretty sure you’re not in charge yet.”
“Just do the deliveries. There aren’t many today. A couple of houses in town and L’Aubergine.”
“Micah. I—”
“I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Neither is Mal.”
“Mal knows?”
“Of course he knows. We stopped by last night after I talked to you. The only person who doesn’t know is Ruth, because I’m not going to be the one who ruins her day when she’s spending all her time in the NICU with our nephew.” Micah took a bowl down from the shelf and set it on the counter.
“Look. My mind isn’t as made up as it sounded. I don’t know what to do.” Jonah ran a hand through his hair. “This thing with Gloria is killing me. I’ve been trying to get over her, really trying, for three months. If anything, I want her in my life more today than I did in December. So I thought a change of scenery might be just what I needed, you know?”
“Sort of. Serena said she’s divorced now, though. Doesn’t that change anything?”
“I just found out yesterday. And I don’t know if it does or not. Isn’t the standard advice that you should wait at least two years before dating and remarrying? So you have time to grieve or whatever? I can’t face two more years of her right in front of me but completely out of reach.”
Micah blew out a breath. “Maybe. But it’s not like Gloria had a normal marriage. She’s been estranged from this guy for how long? Like eight years, right? Surely she doesn’t need two more.”
Jonah shrugged. How was he supposed to know? “I guess someone needs to ask Gloria.”
“Someone.” Micah laughed. “Not someone. You. You need to talk to her. Until December, the two of you talked about everything. Constantly. Then the whole thing with her marriage happened and it’s like the whole communication structure between you disappeared. How many of your problems could’ve been avoided if you’d just kept talking?”
It wasn’t completely his fault. Sure, he’d contributed to the problem, but it wasn’t as if Gloria was forthcoming either. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
“Do that. You can do all your over-thinking while you’re out making deliveries.”
Jonah sighed. “Fine. But don’t think you’re in charge for real. Turns out, after having to pull your weight as well as my own, I could do with a little time outside the bakery.”
14
Gloria carried two large to-go cups of coffee up the stairs of Serena’s deck and tapped on the glass door.
“Hey. Oh, you’re a life saver. We were planning to stop and get some groceries on our way home from the airport, but your voicemail kind of derailed that.”
“Sorry.”
Serena waved off Gloria’s apology. “That’s not what I meant. Come in and tell me everything.”
Gloria sipped from her cup and followed Serena inside. She flopped onto the sofa and sighed. When Serena had called, it had seemed like a good idea to come by and unload. Now? She had no idea where to start.
“So?” Serena settled at the other end of the sofa and tucked her legs under her. “What’s going on? Any idea why Jonah’s suddenly leaving?”
Gloria shook her head. “I kind of think it’s because of me. Like I said in the voicemail—I did tell him about the divorce.”
“Finally.”
She nodded. Serena wasn’t wrong. “I’m trying to do better. It hit me yesterday—too late, I realize—that secrets were part of our problem. But maybe it’s too little, too late? If Jonah’s leaving?”
“You don’t know anything more?”
“Micah didn’t say anything?”
“He was so mad, I didn’t push. He doesn’t get angry like that very easily. I don’t know if it was the shock or if there was more behind it, but Micah was still stewing when he left for the bakery this morning. Mal didn’t take it very well, either.”
Gloria winced. “You told Malachi?”
“Micah drove to Mal’s after he confronted Jonah. Mal apparently goes the other direction when he’s upset, because he got more and more withdrawn as Micah spoke. Or shouted, as the case actually was. It didn’t bother Malachi, but Ursula and I were happy to escape to the kitchen.” Serena cradled her coffee in her hands. “This is going to kill Ruth.”
“Do you think he’s committed? Is there a chance he’d stay? I—I could probably transfer to another department. I hate to think he’d leave Arcadia Valley just to get away from me.” Her stomach twisted. She didn’t want to leave. This was her home now just as much as it was his. But Arcadia Valley was a small town, and the likelihood of avoiding him successfully for any amount of time was slim.
“No. That’s not the right solution either.” Serena sighed. “I still think the right solution is for the two of you to end up together.”
Gloria’s cheeks heated. “I’d love that. Now that it’s actually possible? I’d give anything to make it happen. But he has to be on board with it, too. And if he’s planning to leave, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about it.”
“Seriously? Fight for him.”
“How? It’s not that I’m opposed to fighting, but what am I supposed to do?”
Serena drummed her fingers on her knee. “You told him you were free. Maybe the next step is to make sure he understands that means you’re interested—and ready—for a relationship with him. You are, right?”
“Yeah. You don’t think I need to wait? All the books—”
“Pfft. Those books are talking about going from arguing to separated to divorced in six months to a year. When was the last time you had any sort of feeling about your marriage beyond resignation?”
Gloria took a long drink of coffee and tried to sort through her thoughts. “A long time. Years. Probably at least five.”
“I still don’t really understand why you didn’t divorce him.” Serena held up a hand. “I know, you were going by that whole First Corinthians thing. And I think that’s admirable, sort of. But I’m not convinced you didn’t take it to an extreme.”
Gloria shrugged.
“Anyway, if you feel like you’re ready, I don’t see the problem. Which means all you need to do is convince Jonah.”
“Oh, is that all?” Gloria laughed. “Piece of cake.”
Serna grinned. “I believe in you. You’ve got the whole Baxter clan in your corner, too, which is nothing to sneeze at.”
“Thanks. Any suggestions on what step one of this master plan should be?”
“I bet if we put our heads together, we can come up with something.”
Gloria smiled. Serena’s optimism was contagious. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance. Please, God. Let this be Your will. And if it isn’t, make that clear. I don’t want to go against what You’d have me do.
Wednesday morning, armed with a list of ideas she and Serena had written out the day before, Gloria stopped by the bakery on her way to the police station to start her shift. They weren’t open yet, but Serena had promised to get Micah to unlock the front door so she could sneak in.
Gloria slowly tugged on the door and grinned as it opened. She slipped through, being careful to avoid rattling the bell, though it
gave a small ding. Hopefully it was noisy enough in the kitchen at the peak of their morning’s baking that no one would notice. Or maybe Micah could keep Jonah from investigating.
She crossed to the cash register and set down a little basket of rosette cookies. They were the only dessert she was particularly adept at, and she’d spent entirely too much time the night before digging through her cupboards for the rosette iron she’d known was lurking in there somewhere. It was the most useful wedding gift her mother had given her, and one of the few things she’d kept. The light, fried dough dusted with powdered sugar was supposed to be a Christmas treat, but Gloria figured there was no law against making them out of season. She should know. She was a cop.
Smiling at herself, she adjusted the note and the bow, said a little prayer, and tiptoed back out of the bakery. She longed to hide somewhere and spy on Jonah’s reaction, but aside from needing to get to work, the plate glass windows across the front of the bakery made it nearly impossible. Gloria checked the time and winced. She needed to hurry if she wasn’t going to be late to work.
At the station, she changed into her uniform and strode to the desk where a pile of paperwork was waiting for her. Joy. “Hey, Felipe.”
Felipe raised a hand in greeting and nodded toward the mass of folders. “Did you lose a bet?”
“I wish. Didn’t you get the memo?”
Felipe shook his head.
“Apparently, despite having filled out reports the same way for the last eight years, I’ve been doing them wrong. Presumably others have as well. But all the forms for the last five weeks have been kicked back to get fixed and re-filed.”
“Your tax dollars at work.” Felipe cocked his head to the side. “You look happier than you’ve been in a while. Did you have that conversation we talked about?”
“Oh, yeah. That didn’t go quite as well as I’d planned.”
Donuts & Daydreams: An Arcadia Valley Romance (Baxter Family Bakery Book 4) Page 12
