by Olivia Miles
He suddenly wondered what had happened to Bonnie, and shame bit at him when he realized he hadn’t even said a proper good-bye.
Maybe his sister was right. Maybe his life was unraveling.
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that I—”
Now it was her turn to hold up her hand, even if it did clutch a balled up and soggy-looking tissue. “I know, I know. Don’t worry. I’m not here to harass you into being neighborly. I wanted to let you know that I received some mail for you. At least, I think it’s for you. It has your apartment number on it, but it’s addressed to someone named Violet.” She tipped her head in question, and Ben felt his body stiffen in defense.
“Yes, that’s for me, then. I mean, for Violet.”
The girl’s eyebrows pinched slightly. “I don’t know why I thought you lived alone. But then, I just moved in and I’m rarely here on evenings and weekends.”
And when you are here, you’re busy making petitions, Ben thought to himself.
The girl disappeared behind the door for a minute and came back with a small box in her hands. It was the necklace he had ordered for Violet’s birthday. “Thank you,” he said gratefully.
“Well, that’s what neighbors are for,” the girl said, and with a purse of her lips, began closing her door.
“Wait,” Ben said, and then clamped his mouth shut, cursing himself. He knew the type. Outgoing. Happy. Fun. Eager to be involved, to rally people together. She was looking for some big happy family, and he . . . well, he’d had that. Lost it. “Is . . . everything okay?”
Well, now he’d done it. Gone and done the right thing. Next thing he knew she’d be stopping by to borrow sugar, not that he had any.
She blinked at him a few times, her cheeks reddening. “It’s just . . . It’s been a bad day.” She gave a watery smile.
Ben gave a small grin. “I’ve had a few of those myself,” he admitted.
Her smile was a little easier. “I’m Mary, by the way.”
“Ben,” he said, but she was already nodding.
“I know.”
Of course she did. She’d swept into the building with an eager smile, full of cheerful hellos and good-nights, a friend to everyone from the garden level up through the second floor within a week. Alarm bells started to ring in his head. Time to leave, Ben. Time to go. End this politely, step inside your apartment, and shut the door behind you. And lock it. “Well, good night, then. And thank you.”
“As I said. That’s what neighbors are for.” She smiled, a sight so sweet, with those full pink lips and rosy cheeks and bright eyes that he felt himself waver.
Ben clutched the box tighter in his hand, thinking of his daughter, the tears in her eyes when he’d moved out, and tightened his resolve. There were lots of pretty girls in this city. Didn’t mean he was looking.
He only needed one girl in his life from now on. And she was five years old.
***
Could this day get any worse? Mary stared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror and watched as another tear slipped down her mascara-stained cheek.
Nope, she decided. It couldn’t.
Had she known that she looked like something out of, well, a horror movie, she might have thought twice about opening the door and handing over the package to her oh so hot and oh so aloof next-door neighbor. Here she’d convinced herself that her cheeks were probably just nicely flushed from crying, and it hadn’t felt right to withhold the package, especially when she rarely crossed paths with the man and didn’t know when she would again. She didn’t like the idea of knocking on his door—he hadn’t been very receptive the first time she’d done that, giving her a long, borderline menacing stare that made her heart speed up and her words stumble, when all she’d been hoping to ask him for was the code to the storage locker in the basement—and not knowing the contents of the package, it didn’t seem responsible to leave it on his doormat.
So instead she’d done the right thing. And made a complete fool of herself in the process.
She sniffed again and then flicked off the light. Oh, well. So the guy was good looking and no doubt thought she was unstable or something. He was also, she knew from experience, a total jerk. And hadn’t she dealt with enough of those lately? It didn’t matter what he thought of her. Not when she didn’t think too highly of him herself.
Besides, he apparently lived with someone named Violet. He was probably married.
Mary wandered into the kitchen and filled the kettle for tea. Then, on second thought, she plucked a bottle of wine from the fridge instead. One drink, she thought. One drink and then she’d sit down with her bills, clean up this apartment she could barely pay for, clear up this mess she’d created for herself.
On the bright side, she thought, she’d been so busy worrying about the shop all day, she’d barely even thought about Jason.
She rewarded herself with a piece of chocolate for that. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
Chapter Two
Everything always looked brighter in the morning, at least that’s what Mary always believed. But today, the sun was stubbornly hiding behind thick grey clouds, and the loud, determined grind from the snow plow woke her long before dawn.
Mary was the first customer of the day at Corner Beanery, the Lincoln Park café run by her friend Hailey Wells. She stomped the snow off her boots on the mat in the window-framed vestibule and then pushed open the door into the warm and cozy room, still shivering the last of the winter chill off her shoulders.
“It’s a cold one out there!” Hailey remarked as she set a plate of oversized blueberry muffins on the counter.
Mary tried not to let her expression show just how much this observation bothered her. While the snow had stopped—for now—the temperature had dropped, and the wind was fierce. Mary had worn a long-sleeved shirt under her wool turtleneck sweater, but even her down parka, scarf, hat, and gloves did little to keep the warmth inside.
Of course, the fifteen-minute walk hadn’t helped either.
She approached the counter, her eyes drifting over the croissants and scones piled high in wicker baskets. A cup of coffee would do her good. Not that she hadn’t already had two cups this morning while she compiled her list of plumbers to call first thing this morning, just in case her regular contractor didn’t give her an answer she liked. She patted her pocket, making sure the list was still there. Surely one of them would offer a quote she could afford. If not . . . Her heart began to pound. Well, she’d just call another.
“You’re in early today,” Hailey commented as she poured Mary’s favorite blend of coffee into a mug and handed it to her.
“Oh, the plows woke me up early.” Mary handed over a few dollars and dropped the change into the tips jar. Ever since she started working at Sunshine Creamery, she knew how far a tip went for morale. Even if it was just a few dimes, the intent always lifted her spirit a bit and reminded her why she was doing this in the first place.
Most people she knew would balk at the thought of taking over their grandfather’s ice cream parlor. But Mary couldn’t have imagined it any other way. And she knew her grandparents couldn’t have either. They’d built that place out of love and hard work, and even if they hadn’t gotten rich, they were happy.
She could only begin to wonder what they would think of her now. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to picture their smiles, the sound of their voices. Sunshine Creamery had been in a rut when she’d taken it over. It hadn’t been lucrative for them, and no doubt they’d had their share of struggle, too. It couldn’t have survived much longer, even if Gramps was around, but even then, he’d begged her to hold onto it, to see it through, keep it going.
She’d make it work; she’d promised herself that. She’d promised her grandfather, too.
“How’s business?” Hailey asked conversationally as she started foaming milk for a customer’s latte.
“Oh . . .” Mary untied her wool scarf and settled onto a counter stool near the es
presso machine. “A bit slow, but it’s winter, so I expected that.”
“Well, spring is almost here,” Hailey said brightly, and Mary gave a weak smile in return. She kept her back firmly to the window. She didn’t need to see just how far from the truth that statement felt. “I have some interesting news, actually,” Hailey offered.
Mary perked up, happy to shift topics. “Oh? A new guy in your life?”
Hailey barked out a laugh. “More like a new girl in my life. My cousin Claire is staying with me for a while.” Hailey leaned across the counter and whispered, “She was supposed to move to San Diego with her boyfriend. She quit her job, subleased her apartment, everything. The guy broke up with her a week before the moving trucks arrived.”
“That’s terrible!” Mary shook her head. “And here I thought I was the one with bad luck with men.”
Hailey lifted an eyebrow. “Name someone who doesn’t.”
Mary thought for a second. “Lila,” she said, thinking of how happy her sister was with Sam, cozily sharing a beautiful new apartment and walking together to their small advertising agency each morning. Their entire day, from morning to night, was a team effort.
She and Jason had never been part of a team. He couldn’t understand why she had to work weekends, why she cared so much about Sunshine Creamery. His eyes would glaze over when she talked about new flavors.
It hurt. It still did.
Hailey started an espresso for the next customer. “You’re forgetting that it wasn’t always so wonderful with Lila and Sam.”
Mary tipped her head. “True.”
“What’s this about Lila and Sam?” Lila called out from the doorway. Mary turned to see her sister, her cheeks flushed from the cold, her grey eyes bright with what she knew to be happiness.
“We were just talking about how unlucky we are with men,” Mary said. “But then Hailey pointed out that you and Sam found your way back to each other. There may be hope for us all.”
Only she wasn’t really so sure about that anymore. And she wasn’t so sure she was willing to take the risk to find out, either.
“So I restored your faith in men, did I?” Sam grinned as he appeared over Lila’s shoulder.
Mary had to smile. Sam was as charming as he was handsome. It was easy to see why Lila had never gotten over him after he’d broken her heart years back, when she was still living in New York. She watched as Sam bid his hello and good-bye in one greeting, claiming an early conference call. He gave Lila a kiss on the lips before darting back out into the snow, and Mary couldn’t help it, she felt a pang of . . . longing. The way Sam looked at her sister, you’d think they wouldn’t see each other again for hours, days even, when in fact, Lila would be down the street at their office in about twenty minutes.
She took a sip of her coffee. No use feeling sorry for herself. From where she stood, men were nothing but trouble, and she had enough of that on her plate, thank you very much.
“You look a little tired this morning,” Lila commented after she’d told Hailey her order.
“Gee, thanks.” But Mary knew her sister hadn’t meant any harm. She was tired, she couldn’t deny it. And she probably couldn’t hide it forever, either. She looked out the window at the people bundled in hats, scarves, and coats on their walk to the bus stop, their shoulders hunched against the bitter wind, and winced. She’d be lucky to see one customer today.
“You know I’m just concerned. Is the shop still keeping you so busy?” Lila added cream and sugar to her coffee, blissfully unaware of Mary’s troubles, and, if Mary had anything to do with it, it would stay that way.
She knew that Lila and Sam were the two people that could probably help the most, given their expertise in advertising as well as their financial position, but Lila had already helped enough, and it just didn’t sit right with Mary to lean on her sister anymore. Lila was busy planning her wedding, enjoying her time with Sam, getting her new agency off the ground. No, this was Mary’s problem alone. She had been the one who insisted they find a way to keep the family ice cream parlor, and Lila had supported that dream by offering an investment to get it running again. To tell Lila how bad things had been lately would be like a slap in the face. Mary couldn’t do it. She felt sick at the mere thought.
“Oh, a bit slower than usual, but it’s giving me time to come up with fresh flavors for the summer. What do you think about cherry cheesecake?” she asked, hoping her smile didn’t look as strained as it felt.
“Sounds delicious!” Lila said. “But I might have to cut down on my ice cream consumption if I’m going to fit into a wedding dress!”
“Have you found one yet?” Mary asked. They’d been to many stores, but Lila was still undecided as of their last shopping trip.
Lila shook her head. “There’s time.”
Not much, Mary thought, considering the wedding would be at the start of summer. It seemed so soon and yet, in her situation, so very far away.
By June, people would be lining up to sample her flavors; children would be licking cones on the benches she set up on the sidewalk, couples would be stopping by for a dessert after their dinner. But by June, there was a real possibility she might already be out of business.
She glanced at her watch. Her contractor had given her a two-hour window that started in twenty minutes. It would be quicker to take the bus to the shop, but she needed the walk, and besides, every dollar counted right now.
She looked guiltily at her coffee cup.
“I’d better run, actually,” she said, sliding her gloves back on her hands.
“So soon?” Lila looked puzzled. “But you don’t open for hours.”
“Oh, you know me,” Mary said quickly. “I thought of five new flavors just sitting here that I want to try out before the customers start flooding in.” Her cheeks were hot and she struggled to make eye contact with her sister or Hailey as she walked to the door, waving back at them.
She didn’t calm down until she was two blocks away, the cold air giving her a new perspective. Who knew, maybe she was being fatalistic. Maybe the contractor would tell her it was a quick fix, no biggie. Maybe she was worrying for nothing.
She crossed her fingers inside her pockets. Maybe.
***
Ben flicked off his computer monitor and leaned against his chair to stretch his back. It had been a long work day, but a busy one, and he was grateful for that. What he wasn’t grateful for were the worried glances from his father’s assistant, or the lunch break phone call from his sister, who had the name of yet another therapist he might want to try, since, she’d told him more than once, it wouldn’t work for her to treat him herself.
As if he’d ever asked for her professional opinion.
He groaned. Working for a family business had its benefits, but he longed to get home, even if it was a far cry from his former one, and pretend for a few hours that everything was okay, that his wife hadn’t surprised him with a divorce, that the life he’d planned and thought he’d been living hadn’t all shattered before his eyes.
“Heading out?” his father asked when Ben stopped by his corner office.
Ben nodded, and let his eyes drift out the windows onto the illuminated Chicago skyline, the same view that had enthralled him as a kid when he’d come by the office with his mother. Sullivan Construction had occupied this space since his father first started the company in the seventies. It was nice to know that unlike other areas in his life, some things didn’t change.
“You should come for dinner soon,” his father continued. “Your mother would like that.”
Ben nodded noncommittally. No doubt his mom had heard about another single daughter from one of her friends in bridge club. The last time he’d driven to the suburbs for a family meal, he’d been surprised to find a thirty-year-old blond woman with a bright smile and hungry eyes, who just happened to stop by for a drink. He’d spent the entire evening dodging his mother’s meaningful stares from across the table, made a polite excuse and an early ex
it.
His phone vibrated against his leg. Without reaching into his pocket, he cursed under his breath. “That will be Emma. Again.”
“Don’t be so hard on your sister,” his father remarked. “She’s just worried about you.”
Ben gritted his teeth before he said something he’d regret. It had been years since the split. What would it take to make his family start treating him like normal again? Ben’s lips thinned as he settled on the answer to this question. A woman. They thought that all he needed to be happy again was the love of a good, strong woman.
They couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning.” Ben held up a hand and wandered down the hall, nodding good night to his coworkers on his way to the elevator bank.
By the time he reached the lobby, his phone was ringing again. Emma could be persistent. Chances were she wouldn’t stop trying until she’d reached him.
He dragged out a sigh as he pulled the device from his pocket, preparing himself to firmly remind his sister that she didn’t need to check up on him so often, and that he wasn’t one of her patients, when he saw the name on the screen.
He stopped walking, and barely even noticed when the crowd gathered around him, one man knocking his shoulder as he hurried to the revolving doors. There were three missed calls. And none of them were from Emma.
They were all from Dana. His ex-wife.
***
For the second night in a row, Ben exited the “L” at his old stop—only this time it wasn’t by mistake. The snow was still falling steadily as Ben rounded the corner onto the street he’d once lived, dusting his shoulders as he quickened his pace. Dana had been cryptic on the phone, only reassuring him that Violet was fine, but that he needed to come over. Tonight. And no, it couldn’t wait.
He stopped for a second to take in the pristine line of brick townhouses tucked behind iron gates, some old, some, like his, renovated from the ground up, and then forced one foot in front of another, his body leading his path on autopilot, his mind trailing.
