by Olivia Miles
Sometimes he worried what would happen if Dana decided to suddenly return, the impact it would have on Violet, on himself. Would she expect to uproot Violet again? And would Violet want to go live with her mother?
But then he remembered that Dana had decided to sell the house. That she had made no mention of returning any time soon. There was no doubt in six months or a year she’d be back, expecting a few gifts to make up for her absence, for things to gradually go back to normal. But this was the new normal. Him. Violet. He’d fight hard to ensure that. His daughter had experienced enough change for now.
“You like Mary, don’t you?” Violet asked, her eyes focused on her ice cream bar, which was quickly melting all over her hands.
Ben leaned across the table to wipe her mouth with a napkin. “I do,” he said. “Do you?” But he already knew the answer to that.
“I love Mary!” Violet corrected, smiling broadly. Just as quickly, a little wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “She’s not going to leave us too, will she, Daddy?”
Ben opened his mouth to reassure Violet and then stopped. He couldn’t make a promise he wasn’t in control to keep. And no matter what he said or what he believed, there was always a chance that things wouldn’t work out, that Mary would leave, and that Violet’s heart would be broken. Again. That her world would stop making sense. That she’d lose the ability to count on anyone, to trust.
“Is she your girlfriend now?” Violet asked, not waiting for a response. “Isabelle’s daddy has a new girlfriend. She buys Isabelle presents and lets her wear her lipstick!”
Ben’s smile felt brittle as his mind began to race. He’d been planning on telling Violet that yes, Mary was his girlfriend now, that they’d be spending time together, holding hands, being affectionate. But now . . . Now all he could think about was the risk he was taking, at Violet’s expense, not just his own.
“She’s just a friend, honey,” he said firmly, taking the last bite of his snack. “Our next-door neighbor.”
He stood up and tossed his wrapper in the trash and jammed his hands into his pockets, turning his back to that blinding sun.
She couldn’t be anything more than that. And shame on him for thinking she ever could.
***
The next morning, Mary set the stack of pancakes on the table and eyed Ben carefully as she took her seat next to him. She’d thought it would be fun to have their brunch outside, maybe on a picnic blanket in the park, but as luck would have it, the first rainfall of the spring had started overnight, and it hadn’t stopped all day.
Mary suppressed a sigh. Chances were she wouldn’t have many customers today. She struggled with the thought of going into the shop at all, when she could be spending her time here, with Ben and Violet.
She glanced at Ben again. He’d been very quiet all morning, since Violet first came bounding across the hall, showing off her fruit salad. Mary had hovered in the doorway, waiting for Ben’s lead, but he hadn’t kissed her as she’d hoped.
He has a child, she reminded herself for the fifth time since they’d arrived. He probably wanted to take it slow. There would be time for displays of affection later, when they were alone.
“These are the best pancakes I ever ate!” Violet exclaimed happily, and Mary beamed at the compliment. “Don’t you think so, Daddy?”
Mary noticed that Ben hadn’t eaten much, and his coffee mug was still full. “Everything okay?” she asked quietly, as Violet doused her next pancake in syrup.
“We can talk it about it after,” he replied, and Mary felt the cold, icy grip of fear knot her stomach.
So there was something wrong, then. She’d sensed it. But what? Why?
She struggled to finish her own plate, and was relieved when Ben finally suggested that Violet could be excused from the table to play.
“I’ll just leave both of our front doors open,” he said, glancing at her to confirm that this was okay.
Violet thought it was a brilliant idea. She skipped across the hall to play, and then poked her head back to look across the hall. “It’s like one big house that we all share together!” she cried.
Mary felt her heart begin to tug, but when she met Ben’s eyes, she saw that he wasn’t smiling. Instead, his jaw was tight, his gaze distant, his brow pinched.
“Okay,” she said in a voice soft enough that Violet wouldn’t be able to hear, even if she grew curious. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” Ben said, shaking his head. He blinked at the floor a few times, as if contemplating something.
“Well, something is clearly up,” Mary insisted. “We had this brunch planned, and then you barely spoke to me the entire time you were here.”
“I’m just . . . worried.” Ben briefly met her gaze. “About Violet.”
Mary felt a flicker of relief. He was worried about his daughter. She could handle that. She almost laughed at herself, at how silly she’d been, worried that something had changed between them, that Ben had had a change of heart.
“Did something happen?” she asked, feeling a bit of concern herself. “She seemed in good spirits.”
“She is in good spirits. That’s just the problem.” Ben blew out a long breath, raked his hands through his hair. It was sticking out in various directions, and Mary reached out to fondly pat it down. She felt him stiffen under her touch; saw the pulse in his jaw, the flash in his eyes.
“Something is going on,” she said firmly. Her heart was hammering. “Just say it, Ben.”
Ben eyed the open door, and on instinct, Mary did the same. But Violet was already in her room, having an imaginary pancake breakfast with her dolls. Mary smiled sadly at the sound of her little voice, muffled by the distance.
Ben turned back to her. There was a sadness in his eyes she hadn’t seen since that first day he and Violet had come into Sunshine Creamery. “I think this is all moving too fast. Violet just came to stay with me, her mother upped and left her. It’s a lot of change. Too much change.”
Mary swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and willed herself not to cry. She’d known this could happen, that it was the risk she was taking, but deep down she’d thought this time it would be different. That Ben was different.
She stared at his squared jaw, the flat look in his eye. He was hard again, distant, the stranger across the hall putting up walls.
“You know I would never do anything to hurt Violet,” she said. Or you, she thought quietly to herself. Clearly, the same couldn’t be said for him.
“Do I?” Ben asked. He shook his head. “See, that’s the thing, Mary. We can’t guarantee this will work out.”
“I was willing to try.” She fought the urge to take a step toward him, to put a hand on his arm, to reassure him as much as herself.
“If it was just me, it might be different.” Ben paused, his eyes locking hers, and for a moment she thought he was thinking it over, calming himself down. But then she saw that muddy shadow return, and she knew it was no use. “She’s my daughter, Mary. I don’t expect you to understand, but I have to do what I think is in her best interest.”
“And this is for the best?” Mary clarified, crossing her trembling arms across her chest. “Ending things?”
“Before they get too serious . . .” Ben nodded. “Yes.”
“Well then,” Mary huffed. “I’m not going to try to change your mind, Ben. You’ve made your decision and I respect it. I suppose we have nothing left to say.”
“Mary—” His voice was pleading, his eyes pained. “You have to understand.”
Mary felt her heart soften even though it was breaking. “I understand,” she said, holding back her tears. She understood more than she wished she did.
Ben was a good man. A man who loved his daughter. Who wanted to protect her. His heart was in the right place, even if it wasn’t with her.
Chapter Thirteen
The next Saturday morning, Mary sat in Lila’s bedroom, trying to keep the tears in her eyes from fal
ling as she stared at the beautiful ivory wedding gown that grazed the polished wood floor. They’d admired it for so many years when they were younger, but now, seeing it after all this time, knowing its significance, it somehow looked more beautiful than it did in her memory.
“Oh, Lila,” she breathed, blinking hard. “It’s . . . stunning.”
Lila turned to inspect her reflection from the back. “You don’t think it’s too old fashioned?” She smoothed her hands over the satin A-line skirt, which was a pretty contrast to lace bodice.
Mary shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not. It’s classic. Elegant. It’s . . . you.” She gave a watery smile, not sure if the tears were out of guilt, or love, or the loss of something deeper than the past. The loss of hope for the future. It had always been what kept her going. No matter how dark the times, or how hard the struggle, she’d always believed that somehow, if she kept going, kept fighting, and didn’t give up, that in the end things would have a way of working out.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
She plucked a tissue from the box on Lila’s bedside table and dabbed her eyes. There was no use resisting it—the tears were flowing, hot and thick down her cheeks.
“Mary, what is it?” The heavy fabric of the dress swooshed as Lila crossed the room to sit on the edge of her bed. She rested a concerned hand on Mary’s back, which only made Mary cry harder.
“It’s . . . everything. My life . . . It’s a mess. And now I’m going to have to move!” she cried, and then began sobbing into her tissue.
“Move?” Lila’s tone was quizzical, but all at once she seemed to understand. “Mary,” she warned. “This isn’t because of—”
“Ben!” Mary tossed her hands in the air. “You were right about him, Lila. Of course you were right.” She shook her head bitterly. Lila had her life tied up with a neat little bow. She had a beautiful apartment with a view of Lincoln Park. She had a gorgeous, doting fiancé whom she was madly in love with and quite possibly always had been. She was wearing their mother’s wedding dress. She and Sam had more business than they could handle at their advertising agency.
While Mary . . . Mary thought she could handle it all on her own. So much for that.
“What happened?” Lila asked, patiently folding her hands in her lap.
Mary gave an abbreviated version of the story, starting with the first day that Ben and Violet had stopped into Sunshine Creamery. It felt like so long ago. She thought of the sweet little girl with the big blue eyes. Would Ben expect her to keep her distance from Violet now? To just be the friendly neighbor-lady who handed out candy at Halloween and said hello in the hall? She couldn’t bear it. No more than she could bear the thought of occasionally running into Ben as he went down to collect his pizza, pretending that nothing more had ever developed between them, that no connection had been made. That they were just friendly neighbors.
“The saddest part of it all is that I don’t even blame Ben for breaking things off. He did it from a good place. He was just trying to protect his daughter.”
“From you?” Lila pursed her lips in disapproval.
“He doesn’t want Violet to be disappointed again by another woman who can’t give her everything she needs.” Mary rolled the tissue in her hands. “She needs someone who is present, available. Not just someone who would love her.”
“But you’re present and available,” Lila said.
“No,” Mary corrected her. “I work every weekend. Long hours,” she pointed out. “I’m starting to wonder why I bother,” she muttered, as the tears filled her eyes again.
“What do you mean?” Lila’s voice was sharp.
Mary sighed. “Sunshine Creamery isn’t as successful as I’d hoped.”
“Well, it’s always been a little slower in the winter,” Lila pointed out.
“Yes, but I hadn’t realized just how slow.” She gave her sister a long look. “I’m starting to understand why the place was in the red when we inherited it.”
“I always assumed the warm weather season sales made up for the loss. I sort of thought that Gramps was happy for a little downtime around the holidays.” Lila frowned.
“I thought so, too,” Mary admitted. “But that building is old. It’s just one thing after another. I’ve started to ask myself if this is worth it. What I’m doing.”
“What you’re doing is fulfilling your dream,” Lila said firmly. “You always loved that place more than I did. You were determined to take it over when Gramps passed away.”
“True,” Mary said begrudgingly. “But Gram and Gramps had each other. It’s different doing it all on my own. I’m not really sure I can turn this around.”
“The first question is whether you want to make it work,” Lila said.
Mary looked at her sister as if she were crazy. “Of course I want to make it work, Lila! That’s why I’ve worked so hard to keep it going all along.”
A hint of a smile curved Lila’s mouth. “Just checking. The next step is to think outside the box.”
“I’ve tried that,” Mary groaned. “I added all those new flavors! And people do like them!”
“I know they do.” Lila tapped her lip in thought. “We’ll turn the place around. I just wish you’d come to me sooner.”
“I can’t take any more of your money,” Mary said, already preparing to stand. It was a mistake to open up to Lila, to worry her, to make this her sister’s problem.
“Oh, I’m not offering any money,” Lila told her casually. “I’m offering up something better. You, me, and Sam are going to sit down together and figure out how to rebrand Sunshine Creamery. You may be running things all on your own, but it’s a family business, and we’re your family.”
That they were, and Mary couldn’t have asked for more. She felt her spirits begin to lift as she considered an idea. “There was one thing I thought of. Well, actually it was Ben’s daughter who made me think of that.”
Lila looked at her with interest. “Back to Ben again, are we?”
“He’s not a bad person,” Mary said, feeling the need to rise to his defense. He just wasn’t the guy for her.
***
Ben knew it was his sister by the sharp rap at the door. Emma wasn’t one for pleasantries, never had been. She was brisk and matter-of-fact; something that fit her well in her professional environment, but not always in her relationships.
Ben smiled to himself as he crossed the living room to let her in. For someone who never stopped giving him advice, she could use a dose of her own. But then, the few times he’d dared to point this out, she’d made it clear that she was happy being alone, whereas he was not.
He pulled in a breath. Maybe she was right.
“How’d you get into the building?” he inquired once he’d firmly closed the door behind her. His heart still pounded after glancing out into the hallway, even though it was early afternoon and Mary was probably at work. A week had passed since their horrible brunch, and he still hadn’t seen her. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed by that. He missed her smile. Missed the way he felt when he was around her. But seeing her would only be complicated, and he still couldn’t push out the image of her face when he’d let her down. The hurt in her eyes, the resignation in her words. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. But not that.
“One of your neighbors let me in,” Emma replied. She dropped casually onto his couch and looked around the room, her nose wrinkling in overt disapproval. “Still haven’t done anything to spruce things up, I see.”
“What? Yes, I have!” Ben strode to the far wall and jabbed at the sole framed print. “What do you call that?”
Emma just gave him a pitying look. “Your shirt’s all rumpled. You slept in it, didn’t you?”
Ben glanced down at his T-shirt, tried to smooth out some wrinkles with his palm. “So what if I did?”
His sister gave him a knowing look. “How’s the pretty girl across the hall these days?”
“Mary?” Ben sh
rugged, hoping his body language passed as casual, but he felt tense and anxious just saying her name. “Fine, I guess.”
Emma didn’t look convinced. “Still seeing her?”
“Oh, now, I was never seeing her. She’s my neighbor, and—”
“And you blew it.” Emma rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
Ben drew a fist at his side. It was only late morning, but he felt like he could go for a beer. Or something harder. Something to take the edge off. Being with his sister was like being on trial. She meant well, but sometimes he wished he just had a sister who was happy to whine about her own life for a change.
“How do you know I blew it?” he asked, taking the armchair in the corner of the room.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” She blinked at him, her blue eyes wide. “Last time I saw you, you were so happy, so lighthearted. I’d go so far as to say you were downright cheerful.”
“Well, that was Violet’s birthday—”
She didn’t let him finish. “And now . . . well, look at you.” Her eyes turned hooded as her mouth pinched. “You’re back to sleeping on the couch with the television blaring all night, wearing the same clothes for days on end. I bet you’ve eaten pizza every night for at least five evenings in a row.”
“Violet lives with me now. Last night we had pasta.” He held her stare, but he knew it was no use. He would have ordered that pizza, and Emma knew it.
Emma dropped back against the sole throw pillow he had come away with in the divorce. He knew he could have fought for more, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t about where he lived or what he had.
“So what happened?” She tapped her fingers against the leather armrest. Ben watched her red nail polish move up and down, and knew that nothing he said was going to make her stop, or leave, or go find Violet in her room, which was her sole pretense for stopping over in the first place.
