One Hundred Glances (An Aspen Cove Small Town Romance Book 14)

by Kelly Collins

  “I’m fine. I just ... I haven’t quite gotten used to my situation, and I lose my bearings.”

  He looked past her to the older woman sitting in the booth and lifted his brow as if to ask, “Is she really okay?”

  With a flourish of her hand, the woman said, “Oh, she’s fine. It probably bruised her ego, but she’s got a massive one, so no worries.”

  He rose from his chair and watched the clump of mashed potatoes hit the floor with a splat.

  “Was that your lunch?” Sosie asked.

  He chuckled. “Yep, but I’m sure my aunt will replace it.” He stuck his hand out to shake hers but dropped it and shook his head. “I’m Baxter Black.”

  She cocked her head to the side and opened her eyes wide. For a woman who couldn’t see, she had an expressive gaze.

  “Any relation to Riley?”

  “She’s my sister.” He noticed the gravy on the back of her hand and reached for his napkin. “It seems as if my food found its way to you. Let me help clean you up.”

  She raised her hand as if to look at it. “I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around, and my hand found your food.”

  He wasn’t sure what the right protocol was. Did he wipe off what he saw or hand her the napkin and let her do it herself? Sadly, he failed miserably with caretaking and didn’t have a clue.

  When the tip of the napkin hit her skin, she closed her palm around it and she took over, wiping her hand clean.

  Turning from left to right, she inhaled and huffed. “Can you please turn me in the direction I came from?”

  Maisey rushed over with two plates of burgers and fries. “Haven’t I told you before that there are no food fights allowed in the diner?” She tried to sound firm, but the giggle in her voice gave her away. “Let me wipe the table.” She left to get a wet terry cloth, and once the booth was wiped clean and dried, Maisey helped the woman back to her seat. “Why didn’t you say anything, Sosie? I wondered what could keep you from your art. Now I know.”

  He watched Sosie wince from the statement.

  “Can I borrow that towel?” he asked Maisey. When she handed it to him, he cleaned the surrounding mess but kept an ear tuned to the conversation happening beside him.

  “It’s not something I’m happy about, but I’m coming to terms with what this has done to me and my life.”

  “Don’t let her fool you,” said the lady who was still sitting in the booth. “She hasn’t reconciled with her disability. That’s the problem. She’s in denial.”

  “Geez, Theresa, give me a break. Don’t pretend like you care.” Sosie plopped onto the red pleather bench. She blindly felt the table until her fingers reached the fries. “All you care about is the paycheck.”

  “I’ll be back,” Maisey turned and looked at him. “I’ll get you another plate, Baxter. Hang tight.”

  He pushed his near-empty plate to the side and listened for what would happen with Theresa and Sosie. It was like a late-night drama unfolding in front of him.

  “I’m so tired of your shit, Sosie. You’re blind, not dead. The problem with you is you’re spoiled. Someone has doted on you all of your life. They’ve treated you like a golden child. What you need is some tough love.”

  “Love? You think you’re qualified to give it to me?”

  The older woman tossed her napkin on the table. “You bet your ass I am. You’ll never get past this if people keep fixing things for you. You came to clean out your studio. Do it yourself.” Theresa rose from the table and stomped away.

  Several words passed through his brain. There was the name Sosie, which sounded familiar but add in the word art and studio, and he knew exactly who she was. Sosie Grant, the artist, was back in Aspen Cove, and she was blind.

  He watched as a tear slipped down her cheek. Just as he was about to get up and move into the booth across from her, Wes showed up.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Taking his eyes from Sosie was like trying to separate two fingers stuck together with superglue. It was hard and painful, but not impossible.

  “Hey, Wes.” He pointed to the seat across from him and hoped it was clean. “Sorry for the mess, I had a little mishap.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sosie turn his way. Her mouth opened and closed several times before it snapped shut. Maybe she thought better of confessing. She moved the fries around her plate until she picked one up and took a bite. She stared straight ahead as if her life hadn’t just gone up in flames.

  He turned back to Wes, who had a smirk on his face. “Do you want to be alone?” He shifted his eyes to Sosie.

  “Nope. Let’s get down to business.”

  Wes put a folder on the table and opened it. Inside were several contracts. “With the band in town, and the sheriff hiring a new deputy, we’ve got plenty to keep us busy over the next few months. I’ve got the Lockharts working on the bigger projects. The Cooper brothers did the teardowns and rebuilds, but I thought you’d like the detail work. Since you did such an amazing job on B’s Book Nook, I saved the finishing touches for you.”

  He considered the pile of contracts in front of Wes. It was what he needed and what he dreaded. The work would give him a paycheck, but it would also keep him busy—maybe too busy to complete his home. It was an endless cycle of want and need. He wanted to finish his house, but he needed the money and time to do it. He couldn’t complete one without the other.

  Wes took the papers and spread them out on the table. “Most of the guys in the band are used to modern amenities like steam showers and jacuzzi tubs, and that requires demolition and restoration. Owen has his brothers Paxton and Eli finishing those bigger projects. Sheriff Cooper hired a new deputy named Merrick, who bought the house on Rose Lane. It’s got good bones, but it needs some serious TLC.” He pointed to the number at the top of the form. “Call him, and he’ll tell you what he wants done.”

  “Am I working for him, or for you?” It made a difference only as far as payment went. Wes paid him by the hour, whereas he got paid by the job otherwise.

  “You’re working for me. I built the cost of your labor into the house. I figured that would be better for both of us.”

  “Okay, how do you want me to attack this list? Is there an order of priority?”

  “I’d start with the band, the Coopers Green House builds. They’re doing a Fourth of July concert in Hope Park, besides the annual Fireman’s Fundraiser at the end of the summer. I think it’s important to make them happy since they bring a lot to the town as far as tourism dollars. Start with the Coopers Green House builds. There’s a lot of intricate work like moldings, tile, fixtures, and then move on to Merrick’s place or split your time between the two. It doesn’t really matter as long as it all gets done. Merrick’s house needs to be gutted, but he likes the feel of the old home and wants to stay true to the era.”

  “Basically, it’s a money pit.” Baxter knew what that was like. His bungalow was the same, but there was something nostalgic about respecting the workmanship of a home built nearly a hundred years ago. “I’ll get on this right away.”

  Maisey walked by and put a new blue-plate special on the table in front of him.

  “Can I get you anything, Wes?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m was just heading out.”

  “You tell that wife of yours I’m making her favorite chocolate silk pie this afternoon.”

  Wes nodded. “I will. Lydia loves your pie.”

  Instead of making the rounds of the restaurant like she normally did, Maisey took a seat across from Sosie. An uneaten burger and fries left by Theresa sat in front of her.

  “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  Baxter dug into his mashed potatoes and gravy but kept an ear tuned in to the conversation beside him. The turn of events was fascinating. Not much happened in Aspen Cove that was newsworthy, but a blind painter showing up in town was interesting considering the last time she was here, she could see.

  He knew the name because his sister had
mentioned her studio. When Riley’s workspace went up in flames, she worried that Sosie’s art would be destroyed by smoke or water. Neither happened because Samantha put the necessary safety precautions into The Guild Creative Center that protected everyone. Each studio was independent and had its own safety system. A fire in one didn’t mean water in all.

  “I don’t know where to begin,” Sosie said. Her voice was soft—almost a whisper. “It started with Lyme disease and went on from there.” She moved her hands in the air as she spoke. “They said it wasn’t permanent, or they didn’t think it was. Optic neuritis is what they call the condition. It’s basically swelling of the optic nerve, but it’s been six months, and there’s been no change.”

  Maisey slid her hand over Sosie’s in a motherly way. Or, at least that’s what Baxter thought a mother would do. His mom had abandoned him and Riley at birth, so he wasn’t sure how a mother would nurture a child. His stepmother was kind enough to him, but she often abused Riley with ugly words and disregard. Outside of movies, they had no scale on which to gauge motherly devotion.

  He shook the thought from his mind and focused on the conversation happening between Sosie and Maisey.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Sosie shrugged. “What can I do? I came here with my agent to clean out the studio.”

  Maisey looked around. “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know, but she’ll be back. I can’t imagine she’d actually leave me in the diner. She has a financial interest in what’s left in my studio.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Maisey patted her hand and rose. “I need to get to work.” She looked toward the kitchen. “Orders are backing up, and Ben won’t be happy with me.” She slid from the booth. “You eat while I’ll get you another soda.” Maisey picked up the empty glass and left.

  Baxter finished his meal and left fifteen dollars on the table to cover his bill and a tip. Before he walked out, he stopped by Sosie’s table.

  “Umm, it was nice meeting you.”

  She turned her head and lifted her chin, so she was facing him. Her eyes were full of emotion; he saw despair and hurt and loss deep within those magnetic blue irises.

  “Nice meeting you, too. I promise if we meet again not to toss your food around like an angry ape.” She lifted her hand to her nose. “Mashed potatoes and gravy?”

  He chuckled. “Yep, how did you know.”

  She sat for a long second and licked her lips. “I’d like to say it was my other senses kicking in, but I’m afraid I haven’t learned to compensate yet.” She smiled, and the entire room lit up. “I got a taste when I overturned your plate and your food took flight. I might order that next time.”

  He wasn’t sure what to do. How did he convey his feelings without using expressive body language? If it were anyone else, he probably would have rolled his eyes, but if he did that, she’d miss the gesture.

  “Tell you what, next time you want a bite, just ask.”

  “I will. Nice meeting you, Baxter. Tell your sister, I said hello.”

  He glanced out the front window. “Are you sure your agent is coming back?”

  She sighed. “She’ll be back. I’ve never known her to pass up a payday.”

  “Okay then. Good luck to you.”

  Her lips quivered as she pulled them into a smile. “That’s all I have left.”

  As he walked away, he wondered what his life would be like if he ever lost the use of his eyes, and the only word that came to mind was over.

  Chapter Three

  She isn’t coming back.

  Sosie sat in the booth for hours nursing her soda and her bruised heart. She dug into her second piece of pie, but eating so much sugar only gave her a bellyache.

  “Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?” Maisey asked.

  A dozen things went through her mind, but none of them would solve her current problem.

  “No, thank you. Umm, I should probably vacate this booth so someone else can have it.”

  A hand touched her shoulder. “Oh, honey, you can stay all day and night in this booth, and I wouldn’t care.”

  Sosie laughed to avoid tears. “I may have to. I’m in a bit of pickle here.” She found it funny to have used the saying she’d given Theresa such a hard time about, but it sounded right. She was in a tight spot and didn’t know how to get herself out. “Do you have the number for the bed-and-breakfast?”

  Maisey made a tsk tsk sound that Sosie knew was accompanied by some kind of facial expression that said are-you-kidding-me. Of course, Maisey would have the number memorized because Ben’s son Cannon was with the owner.

  “I know it by heart, but if you’re looking for a room, it won’t do you any good. They’re booked up past September.”

  “Right, that makes sense. It’s the tourist season.”

  “Oh, honey, ever since Samantha came into town, it’s tourist season all year. People drive up just to get a glimpse of my daughter-in-law, and now with the band moving here, it’s pure chaos.”

  “They got married?” Sosie was so out of touch with everyone and everything around her.

  “They sure did. They did it Vegas-style with rhinestones and Elvis. There’s lots that’s happened since you’ve been gone.” The air shifted. “Sage and Cannon got married and got pregnant.” Maisey’s voice came from across the booth. “Sage is due around Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s amazing. You’ll be a grandma again.”

  “I will. We also have a new bookstore where the old Dry Goods Store used to be. It’s called B’s Book Nook, and the owner is Jake Powers, who’s a famous life coach.” She leaned in and whispered. “He’s got Brandy’s kidney.”

  While she didn’t know much about the town or its people, it was hard to avoid hearing stories about Bea Bennett and the death of her daughter, Brandy.

  “Wow, that’s crazy.”

  “Right? But he’s such a good man, and by all accounts, a wizard at helping people sort out their lives.”

  His name wasn’t familiar. “I might need his help.”

  “You just might. He’s with Natalie and her brother, Will.” Plates clinked around her. “You might remember Natalie, she used to work here, but now she runs the bookstore.”

  She figured Maisey was clearing the dirty dishes from the table, and by the sound of them, they were stacked high.

  How many pieces of pie did I eat?

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “It is, but me talking about the happenings in town won’t help your situation. I’d bring you home to our place, but our spare room only has a toddler bed for Sahara. You’re a tiny thing, but not that small.”

  “Is there anyone who can give me a ride to my studio?” Maisey was silent, so much so that Sosie thought she might have left. “Are you still here?”

  “Yep, still here, but it’s getting dark outside. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be there alone.”

  “I’m blind, and for me, it’s dark all the time.” A shudder pushed through her. She’d always hated the dark. It was one of the worst things about her condition.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll learn to deal with it.” Life was handing her an extra helping of trial and error. She had no idea what she would do, but she couldn’t worry about being blind when there was a bigger problem at hand—she was stuck.

  She wanted to laugh at herself. Since when did becoming blind become the lesser evil in her life? Since her agent abandoned her, and she had no place to stay for the night. It was funny how perspective played such a huge role in people’s lives.

  At this moment, her only option was to get to her studio. At least there, she’d be inside. She could crank up the heat and stay the night if need be. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something.

  “Staying in my studio is my only option at this point.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out two twenties. “Can I pay my bill?”

  There was a moment of silence. “How do you know what
is what?” Maisey asked. “I mean, how do you know those are twenties?”

  Sosie had asked the same question not too long ago.

  “I fold them differently, and I carry nothing over a twenty.” She unfolded the bill, which was a quarter of its original size. “Twenties get folded in half twice, once by length and once by width. Tens get a single fold by length. Fives get folded once by width. Ones stayed the same. Coins are easy since they feel different.”

  “Fascinating. That makes sense, but how do you know initially what they are?”

  “I have to trust that the people around me have my best interests at heart.”

  “Well, we do.” Maisey pressed the twenties back into her palm. “Today’s meal is on me—a welcome back gift. As for the ride, let me see what I can do. You can sit tight or stretch your legs.” She stalled for a second. “Do you use one of those canes?”

  “I do.” Sosie reached into her bag and took out her white cane. With a flick of her wrist, she could turn it from folded to ready to use. “I’m not very good with it. I’ve been known to clobber a few ankles.”

  Maisey laughed. “I’d say if someone doesn’t move out of your way, then they deserve a good hobbling.”

  “Deserve it or not, if they don’t move, they’ll most likely get a whack, regardless.” She shifted out of the booth and swung her purse to her shoulder. “Thanks for everything. I’m going to try my hand at finding my way around town. Send out Search and Rescue if I disappear.” She hoped she sound lighthearted, but inside, she felt anything but. She sucked at maneuvering through life. If LightHouse gave a grade on handling her blindness, she would have failed. She was terrified of venturing out by herself but sitting in a booth until someone rescued her wasn’t a viable option.

  “Let me work on a place for you to stay, at least for the night. You’re not sleeping in your studio. Give me an hour and then meet me in the Brewhouse.”

  Sosie pulled her lip between her teeth. “The Brewhouse is across the street, right?” She never spent much time in town when she came for a visit. She stayed at B’s Bed and Breakfast, ate at the diner, and spent her days painting in the studio. She couldn’t recall once going to the bar.