Alicia burst out laughing. “She’s got you tied up in knots, doesn’t she? Don’t try and deny it. She’s on your mind night and day, and, little brother, you don’t need to tell me you’re missing her. I don’t know why you’re sitting here like a bump on a log when you’re clearly wishing you were with Josie.”
I could deny it, but it wouldn’t do any good. Thankfully, I was saved from answering when Drew, Alicia’s husband, entered the kitchen, still dressed in his pajamas. Barefoot, he walked over to the coffee machine.
“Morning,” he said, yawning as he opened the cupboard and reached for a large mug. He set it on the counter, wrapped his arms around my sister’s middle, and kissed her neck.
“Drew,” she protested, “I’m getting the bird ready to put in the oven.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he teased, as he continued to nuzzle Alicia’s neck.
I noticed how my sister tilted her head to the side and sighed as her husband hugged and loved on her.
I had to look away, but not because their open display of love and affection embarrassed me. Watching them together made me yearn for Josie even more. I would have welcomed the opportunity to love on Josie in the mornings the same way Drew did my sister.
Breaking away from Alicia, Drew poured a cup of coffee and joined me at the table while my sister remained busy prepping the turkey and getting it ready for the oven.
“Before you came into the kitchen, I was asking Palmer about Josie,” Alicia said, picking up the conversation that I was trying not to have.
“Josie’s in Seattle. She loves her job and she’s happy there.”
“You sure about that?” Drew asked, taking a drink of his coffee.
“Yes.” She’d said as much any number of times, despite the stress of the job. I stopped questioning the long hours or extra responsibilities, because every time I did, she went into a detailed explanation about what was expected of her.
“What have you done lately to let her know you love her?” my sister asked.
“Huh?” Josie knew how I felt. I told her every chance I could.
“You heard me,” Alicia insisted. “Sure, you text her and you chat now and again.”
Drew leaned back in his chair, taking in the whole conversation while continuing to drink his coffee. “Trouble is, living the way we do in Alaska, men seem to lose a few of the finer social niceties that women are accustomed to. Women want us to give them exotic flowers and French chocolates and say all those sweet words they read in those romance books. They need to hear that we couldn’t possibly live without them, and a bunch of stuff like that.”
Alicia shook her head. “Would you kindly stop? That isn’t what I meant. Josie doesn’t need gifts. She needs my brother.”
I wasn’t sure what my sister was getting at. I wanted to go see Josie in the worst way. I would be in Seattle this very minute if she wasn’t involved with the restaurant 24/7.
“Took me three tries to get Alicia to agree to marry me, you know.”
I was familiar with their courtship. Alicia and Drew met when she was in college studying criminology. Drew was an electrician doing work on campus in the bookstore where Alicia worked part-time. A few days after they met, he’d asked her out and she’d accepted. At the end of their first date, he proposed. Alicia had been shocked and immediately turned him down. Drew was persistent, though. Two months later he asked her to marry him again, and for the second time, Alicia refused. He waited a year from the day they met and asked a third time. Alicia agreed. They were married three months later, and in the last ten years they’d had two children.
“You aren’t giving up on Josie, are you?” Drew inquired.
“No way,” I insisted. “She’s the one who walked away. She knows I’d marry her in a heartbeat. She needs to be the one to tell me when she’s ready. I’m not going to rush her.”
“Well, you could help push her along with her decision, don’t you realize?” Drew added, not letting up.
“Would you two stop trying to fix this thing between me and Josie?” I snapped, growing irritated. “Josie and I know what we want, and for now, I need to give her time.”
“Time? Really, Palmer? And how’s that working?” Alicia asked, assuming the role of Dr. Phil. She seemed to want to hammer away at my misery.
Drew shook his head, frustrated with me. “You love this woman or not?”
“I’m not in the habit of asking random women to marry me,” I returned sarcastically.
“Look at me, Palmer,” Alicia insisted. “I’m your sister. I know you better than anyone. You’re in love and you’re miserable. Josie’s in Seattle, and you’re in Ponder. You need to fix this.”
Alicia made it sound easy.
“I have to give Josie this chance to work with Chef Anton and run this new restaurant. It’s what she wants, it’s what she deserves, and I’m not taking that away from her. You want me to show her that I love her? Well, that’s how I’m doing it.”
My sister went quiet and I noticed Drew had as well. It seemed I’d finally reached them. Was I happy to be separated from Josie? No way. Did I think she was working too long and too hard? Yes. Did I miss our phone chats and extended text messages? More than I was willing to admit. But I couldn’t say or do anything until she made her decision. I’d give her a year, and if at the end of that time she was still happy with her life in Seattle, I’d cut my losses and move on. Until then, I clung to the hope that she would have a change of heart and marry me.
“You do love her,” Alicia said into the silence, as though she found it hard to believe. “You’re sincere.”
“Of course I am.” This was too important to mess up because I was impatient or unwilling to give Josie the time she needed.
“You could always beg,” Drew continued, sounding completely serious. “I would have bent down on both knees if it meant Alicia would agree to marry me.”
“You did get down on your knees, didn’t you?” I inquired.
“One knee,” Drew corrected. “If it had taken both knees, I would have gladly done it. Pride is important to a man, but it isn’t everything. When it comes to the right woman, a man needs to be willing to swallow his ego every now and then. Not often, mind you, but when the occasion calls for it.”
I chuckled, loving both my brother-in-law and sister, and grateful for their support.
* * *
—
Later we lingered around the table after sharing a delicious Thanksgiving dinner complete with turkey, stuffing, and all the fixings. We’d gone around the table and each shared what we were most grateful for in our lives that year, and I’d mentioned my family and friends, including Jack and Josie. Because Alicia had spent most of the day cooking, the rest of us went to the kitchen to wash the pots and pans and load the dishwasher.
“What are you the most thankful for, Uncle Palmer?” eight-year-old Andrew asked.
“You helping me with the dishes,” I joked, handing him a dishtowel.
“Are you ever going to get married?” little Katie asked. She was six, in first grade, and as cute as a button.
“I hope so,” I told her.
“I’d like a girl cousin, okay? Mom and Dad said I can’t have a baby sister, so I need you to get me one.”
I grinned. “I’ll do my best.” I could hardly wait to mention this to Josie. On second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.
Drew handed me the last of the pots he’d washed by hand. “The pressure is on,” my brother-in-law muttered under his breath. “Not only is Katie looking for a girl cousin, but your parents are looking for more grandchildren. The ball is in your court. Alicia and I have our family.”
I swatted the wet towel at his backside. “Josie has to agree to marry me first.”
“Will Josie be my aunt?” Andrew asked.
“I do
n’t know yet,” I told him, but if I had anything to say about it, then she would be, and soon.
After the dishes were dried and put away, we sat down in the living room, too full to consider pumpkin pie until later that evening. The kids were busy playing a board game, as they were allowed only a certain amount of time on their tablets each day. Sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace, they involved Alicia in their fun.
Drew and I were caught up in watching the football game when he leaned over and said, “You need a plan, you realize.”
I glanced at him and assumed he was talking about Josie and me. “A plan,” I repeated. “What sort of plan?”
“To convince Josie to marry you.”
“Well, your plan took a while, right?”
“It did, but then, Alicia is stubborn.”
“Hey, I heard that!” my sister called from her position on the carpet with the two kids.
I grinned. Being stubborn was a family trait. “Not sure how having a set plan would work with Josie.” Pressuring her was the last thing I wanted to do.
The Seahawks scored a touchdown and Drew let out a loud whooping cheer, then added, “All I’m saying is you need to confront this thing with Josie as you would any problem. Have a plan and stick to it.”
I smiled. “Is that so?”
“Sure thing. My plan and my persistence paid off with Alicia.”
“Drew, I swear if you say another word,” my sister interjected, “I’m going to find an excuse to arrest you. Leave my brother be. He’s got this under control. Let him figure this out on his own without any help from you.”
Drew sighed dramatically. “Yes, dear.”
My sister tilted her head back and groaned. “You know I hate it when you say that.”
“Yes, my love.”
“Better.” Alicia got up from the floor and walked over to where Drew reclined in his chair and climbed into his lap. Looping her arms around his neck, she asked, “You know what I’m most grateful for this year?”
He arched his eyebrows. “Your romantic husband?”
“Guess again.”
“That it’s almost Christmas and you found me the perfect gift?”
“Wrong.”
“Okay.” Drew sighed. “I give up. Tell me what you’re most grateful for this year.”
“That my brother has finally fallen in love.”
“Aw, Sis,” I said, checking my phone, hoping to find a text message from Josie. My heart sank. There wasn’t one.
* * *
—
I waited until the football game was over and reached for my laptop to go online. Because we communicated daily, I hadn’t ever thought to look at Josie’s Facebook page, but seeing something new about her life might give me my “Josie fix.” I suppose this showed how desperate I was, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even know if she’d had any time to make posts since beginning work at the restaurant. Alicia happened to walk by, and she paused when she saw that I had logged on to Facebook.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Checking Facebook.”
“For Josie?”
I nodded.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked.
Now, that was a curious question. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” she said nonchalantly. I instantly put two and two together and realized that Alicia had been following Josie. The tone in her voice also told me that something was on there that my sister didn’t want me to see.
“Do you have something you need to tell me?” I asked my sister.
Alicia exhaled slowly. “You might as well look. You’ll find the photo soon enough.”
The photo.
It didn’t take long to uncover the post Alicia was referring to. The instant I caught sight of it, my stomach clenched.
I should have guessed, should have known.
The photo was of Josie and Chef Douglas Anton in front of the newly opened restaurant, Chez Anton. Chef Anton had his arm around Josie. They looked like a couple.
I stared at it for a long time, looking for any indication that Josie might have been uncomfortable with how close he was next to her. As far as I could tell, she appeared to be fine with it.
“Palmer,” Alicia murmured. “Say something.”
“What’s there to say?” I asked. I was the one who’d asked her not to let me know anything about her interaction with the great-and-mighty chef. It all made sense now—why Alicia and Drew insisted that I needed to make my move before I lost Josie. They might be right after all. The phone calls had diminished; the texts were rushed and minimal now.
Then again, maybe I was too late. I might have already lost her and just didn’t know it yet.
CHAPTER 10
Josie
I couldn’t wait to get home. I was exhausted and overwhelmed and miserable. It was Thanksgiving Day and I’d spent the last sixteen hours in a hot restaurant kitchen, directing staff, cooking when needed, and inspecting plates before they were handed over to the servers. Chef Anton had departed an hour after we’d opened and left me in charge.
To be frank, Chef Anton had been a huge disappointment. He flitted in and out of the restaurant, although he’d made a commitment to his investors to be a continual presence in the restaurant for the first year at this location. If he did happen to be on-site, he most often was holed up in his office, resenting any intrusion or interruptions, and rarely participating in the day-to-day operations.
I suspected this behavior might be a way to get back at me because I wouldn’t return his advances. Almost from the first day I’d returned from Alaska, Chef Anton had hinted that he was looking for something more from me than a normal employee working under him. I made sure he understood I considered this a professional relationship and that I wasn’t interested in anything beyond that. It disappointed and discouraged me to realize it wasn’t my culinary skills that impressed the chef as much as my bra size. I hated the looks he gave me. Thankfully, his behavior had never progressed beyond those initial remarks. Obviously, I hadn’t mentioned any of this to Palmer. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in hearing anything having to do with Chef Anton, and that turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as my mother would say.
What surprised me was how intuitive Palmer had been about him. And all Palmer had seen was his photograph. One look, and Palmer had read the man like a mystery novel.
I opened the front door to the small home where Mom and I had lived from the time I was born, near the Queen Anne area of Seattle. I was grateful to be home at last and eager to connect with Palmer, despite the late hour. Having to miss Thanksgiving with Mom and my aunt and uncle and their family had been a major disappointment, especially since I’d been in Alaska for close to seven months and had not seen them for so long.
“You’re home.” Mom sat on the sofa with her feet propped up. “And much later than I expected.”
“I know.” Flopping down next to my mother, I rested my head against the back cushion and closed my eyes.
“You’re exhausted.”
I didn’t bother answering, figuring it was obvious. I’d left the house early that morning, one of the first to arrive at the restaurant and the last to leave, which was often the case. Since I was the sous-chef, it was expected.
“Did you manage to find time for dinner?”
This was the crazy part. I worked around food all day and rarely got a chance to eat. “Not hungry.”
“Josephine Marie, you’re skipping far too many meals.”
“Yes, Mom.” If she could find time in that hectic restaurant kitchen for me to sit down to a meal, then I’d eat. Chef Anton was a hard and unreasonable taskmaster. Already, the station chef had quit without notice, unwilling to take Chef’s explosive behavior. The prep cook was the next to go, and two o
f the waitstaff had quit rather than endure his tirades. The restaurant had been open not even two full weeks and there were already major problems brewing.
“I brought home a plate from your aunt Lucy and uncle Paul’s. I had the feeling you were going to go without dinner again.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I’d eat later. I was far more interested in talking with Palmer. I knew he was spending the holiday with his sister and her family in Fairbanks. I’d texted him before I left the restaurant and was surprised not to hear back from him. In the past he’d always been quick to reply.
“Everyone missed you.”
“I missed them, too.” I hated not being there with my family for Thanksgiving, even though I knew this was one of the negatives of my career choice.
“What time did you get home?” I asked, hoping to keep Mom talking. Her voice soothed me.
“Around five, I guess.”
She hesitated, as if there was more she wanted to say. I’d noticed a change in her since my return. I could be imagining it, though, as I was preoccupied with both work and Palmer.
“By the way, you have a message on the phone,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “It’s from Jack. I think it might be the friend you mentioned from Ponder.”
My eyes shot open and I bolted upright. “Jack called?”
Mom stared back at me, wide-eyed. “I believe that was what he said his name was.”
My heart sped like a race-car engine. How I missed Jack. I’d taught him how to use his phone to text me, and he did every now and again, mainly to tell me he was hungry and missed my cooking. Palmer mentioned him occasionally, too. He held a special place in my heart.
“I’d like to know how he got the phone number to the house,” Mom commented, as we had an unlisted number.
Mom kept the house phone active because she didn’t always have her cellphone close at hand. When I’d applied for the job at the lodge, I’d listed the home phone as my emergency contact number along with Mom’s cell number, but I’d written in the house number first. Anyone needing to reach her would have more luck with the house phone. That didn’t answer the question of how Jack had obtained access to it, however.
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