by Mary Campisi
Harry Blacksworth nodded. “Damn straight on that one. Can I interest you and your lady friend in a bottle of our finest wine? Compliments of the house.”
Lady friend? Harry Blacksworth was a sly one. She could tell by the way he looked at them that he thought something was going on… Something that had to do with emotion, and lots of it.
“We’ll take the wine, but not on the house.”
Harry shrugged. “If you say so, but if the waiter forgets to put it on your tab, well…” He adjusted his tie, smiled at Grace. “There’s not much on the menu not to like. My wife’s the brains of this operation and she selects the menus. I’m just the taste-tester. Now let me see about that wine…”
When Harry left, Grace leaned forward, lowered her voice, “I’m guessing Harry’s a lot more than a taste-tester?”
Max’s lips pulled into a hint of a smile. “He is, but he’ll never admit it. The guy’s loaded, too, but all he cares about are his wife and kids.” He paused, rubbed his jaw. “And fashion. Harry loves his clothes.”
“I noticed how his tie matched the handkerchief in his breast pocket. And the cufflinks?” she said, referring to the onyx and gold ovals she’d spotted. “Very classy.”
“That’s Harry. I heard he didn’t own a pair of jeans until he got married and inherited two step-kids. Seems he had to learn the hard way that you can’t climb a jungle gym in a suit.”
Grace laughed at the visual, and Max joined in. “Kids keep you real, that’s for sure.”
The laughter faded, replaced by Max’s next words. “So I’ve heard.”
It was the gentleness in his tone that made her pulse triple, forced her to look his way. There were questions in those blue eyes, so many of them, pulling her toward him. If she weren’t careful, she might start to imagine all sorts of things, like a life with him, one that included her children… Because she was desperate to find a topic that had nothing to do with them or their past, she latched onto the next question that flitted in her head. “Is it true the town’s mayor is a woman?”
Max nodded. “Mimi Pendergrass, mayor of Magdalena and proprietor of the Heart Sent, bed and breakfast.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“Mimi’s a dynamo. She runs the best bed-and-breakfast in the area. There’s even a honeymoon suite with rose petals sprinkled on the bed. I guess it’s every bride’s dream.” He blushed, his eyebrows pinching together. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard. Who knows?” Max toyed with his butter knife, traced the design on the handle. “I respect Mimi because she never quits, no matter what blows she’s dealt.” His gaze slid to hers, held it. “And she’s been dealt some tough ones. She lost her son when he was a teenager, then her husband, and she’s been estranged from her daughter for years. But she never gave up on the daughter, and word has it Mimi’s about to reunite with her.” His gaze grew darker, more intense. “How’s that for destiny?”
9
Mimi Pendergrass had waited ten years for this moment, imagined it so many times, and now it was finally here. Her daughter stood within arms’ reach!
How did a mother know when her heart was going to burst with happiness? Did it come upon her in a swoosh of surprise, fill her with a joy so great that if she drew her last breath, she would know true peace?
In some ways, Jennifer looked the same, the eyes, the hair, the complexion, and yet, in others, she was different. There was no defiance or anger in her expression, no blame or resentment, or Dear Lord, hatred. Mimi sensed a calmness about her, layered in a self-assurance that can only be obtained through living and making choices that did not end with accusations and blame. The defiant young woman of years ago was gone, replaced with a more mature version who appeared quiet, peaceful, almost sad. Had their parting done that? Had Jennifer’s heart been as sad and empty as Mimi’s?
Jennifer closed the distance between them, worked up a hesitant smile. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, my dear, sweet child.” Mimi opened her arms and her daughter fell into them, clutched her around the waist with a force that spoke of longing and need.
Jennifer sniffed. “I’ve missed you so much.” The tears came then, followed by shoulder shaking and gasps.
Mimi opened her mouth to speak, struggled with the words. “My dear Jennifer. My soul, my heart. My joy.”
“I’m so sorry.” More gasps. “So very sorry for what I’ve done.”
“Shhh.” Mimi stroked her daughter’s back like she had when she’d been a child and couldn’t sleep. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right. You’re here now.”
“But…Dad.” Her daughter’s voice cracked, split open with pain. “I never knew…I should have been here…”
“He knew you loved him, sweetheart. He always knew that.” Mimi had been the target of Jennifer’s anger while Roger had been steadfast, calm, and logical, no different than he’d ever been. But his allegiance to his wife had made him collateral damage, and that weighed heavily on Mimi. Still, she could not sit by and watch her daughter being taken advantage of without speaking up. The man who claimed to love Jennifer also seemed to love her bank accounts, her car, her parents’ cash. When Mimi tried to reason with her daughter, Jennifer took off, and just like that, the ten-year gap in their relationship began.
But not again. Never again.
“I did love him.” Sniff. “So much.” Pause. Another sniff. “I love you, too, Mom. So very much.” They clung to one another as the years fell away and forgiveness swirled about them, seeped into their hearts.
Several minutes passed before Jennifer pulled back, looked into Mimi’s eyes. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Yes.” Mimi nodded, swiped at her tears. “Yes,” she said again.
“I want things to be different between us.”
Oh, dear Lord, yes! “I want that, too.”
Jennifer touched one of the dangle-ball earrings she wore. “I never take these off.” She glanced at the pair Mimi wore; silver and blue, same shape, same size. “I think in some subconscious way, they made me feel close to you.”
Mimi blinked hard, fought fresh tears. “When you were a child, you loved to take my earrings from my jewelry box and line them all up by color. Do you remember?”
Her daughter’s smile melted the sadness between them. “I do,” she said in a soft voice of remembering. “They all dangled, and there were so many colors, even earrings for each season.”
Mimi nodded. “Your father bought me my first pair for our second anniversary, said they reminded him of me: eye-catching balls of energy and spirit.” She swiped at her eyes. “How’s that for a declaration of love and devotion? It was the sweetest thing he ever said to me, and from that day on, I never took them off. Your dad made sure he bought me new ones for my birthday, Mother’s Day, Christmas…” She fingered the dangle ball on her left ear. “When I wear them, I feel close to him. In some ways, it’s like another wedding band.”
“That’s…beautiful.” Her daughter’s eyes glistened. “Maybe one day, I’ll know that feeling.”
They’d talked about the man she’d married, the one who hadn’t minded sucking up her money but wasn’t interested in being a father or a responsible human being. Jennifer had learned that lesson in a brutal, heartbreaking manner, but she’d survived. “If you find it in yourself to open your heart again, you will.” Mimi didn’t add, Maybe you already have found it with the man in the next room, because Jennifer had been very stingy with her comments about her friend, Oliver Donovan. Time and a face-to-face introduction would tell the real story.
“I have some people I want you to meet.”
And that time has arrived!
“I’ve dreamed and wondered about this moment even before I knew you had a child.” She clutched her daughter’s hand, held her gaze and said in voice clogged with emotion. “Thank you for letting me back into your life.”
“We have so much to talk about.” Jennifer worked up a smile, her lips quivering. “But it’s going to take a lo
t longer than a day or two.”
“I hope it takes a lifetime,” Mimi said.
Jennifer leaned forward, kissed her cheek. “I think it will. And before we head back to Reunion Gap, let’s plan a time for you to visit.”
Mimi nodded. “I’d love that. Now, how about you introduce me to Hope and Oliver, and then we’ll have a glass of hibiscus tea and a double fudge brownie or two?”
Her daughter raised a brow. “Double fudge brownies, huh? Oliver’s very good in the kitchen and they’re one of his specialties. I can’t wait for him to try yours.” She paused, her expression soft, hesitant. “And I can’t wait for Hope to try one, too.”
“Neither can I.” A year ago, Mimi never would have dreamed she’d see her daughter again or meet her granddaughter and the man in Jennifer’s life. But miracles happened every day, and she’d just been gifted her very own miracle. They made their way into the living room, stood side by side, Jennifer’s hand clasped around Mimi’s arm. The man and the young girl looked up from the photo album resting on the man’s lap. He offered a smile; the young girl did not.
“Hope, this is your grandmother.”
Mimi took in the pale face, the glasses, the mass of red curls. But it was the way the child held herself, shoulders back, lips pinched, as though it were difficult to be in the room. Mimi knew enough about Hope and her shyness to give her space and not approach her. Oh, how she wanted to hold out her arms, pull the child into an embrace that would let her know she had nothing to fear. But shyness didn’t work that way. Hope didn’t want to be the focus of attention, didn't want to be touched or have her personal space invaded. Jennifer had provided insight and instructions regarding her daughter and Mimi must respect them. Maybe one day, she’d be able to gain the child’s trust and then Hope would include her in her circle of important people.
But not today. And that was enough. It had to be.
Hope glanced at Mimi, her gaze skittering to the red-and-blue dangle earrings Mimi favored. “Nice to meet you.”
Her voice was soft and quiet, and there was no mention of Grandma. Mimi pushed aside her disappointment and said, “Hello, Hope. I’m certainly glad to meet you.”
“I’ve been sending your grandma pictures of you these past few months,” Jennifer said, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “But there’s nothing like the real Hope Merrick.” She smiled at Mimi, gestured toward the tall lanky man standing next to Hope. “And this is Oliver Donovan.”
Ah, so this was the man who’d caught her daughter’s attention. Not that Jennifer had admitted anything, but she’d certainly referenced the man enough times to get Mimi’s radar up. Oliver was good-looking in an old rock-’n’-roller sort of way. Tanned, blue eyes, ponytail, and an earring, he wore faded jeans, boots, and a T-shirt. Mimi would not have guessed he’d be Jennifer’s type, but what did she really know about her daughter’s likes and dislikes when there’d been a ten-year gap in their relationship? Maybe she liked long hair, earrings, and older men. Did any of that matter? No, absolutely not. Jennifer said Oliver Donovan was a good man, with a kind heart. Trustworthy. Honorable. A friend to her and Hope.
But maybe he was something more to Jennifer, or maybe he wanted to be. “I’m so happy to meet you, Oliver. Jennifer’s told me so much about you. Welcome to Magdalena.”
The blue-eyed man with the long ponytail stepped forward, grasped Mimi’s hand in both of his, squeezed. “I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things,” he said with a laugh. “Jenny said this place is a lot like Reunion Gap and I’m anxious to see it for myself. I’ve heard the sunset and the mountains are something to see.” His smile spread. “The people, too.”
Mimi let out a laugh, her dangle-ball earrings bouncing back and forth. “Oh yes, the people are indeed something to see. Or should I say characters? All interesting, all worth knowing, especially the Godfather of Magdalena, Angelo Benito. He’s someone you’re going to want to meet, and I’m sure he’ll want to meet you, too.”
The man Mimi believed her daughter might be sweet on nodded. “Looking forward to it.” When he slid a glance at Jennifer that lingered a second too long on her lips, the truth slipped out. Oliver Donovan was sweet on Jennifer, too.
Mimi pushed aside thoughts of who was sweet on whom and said in, “There’s someone I’d like Hope to meet. She’s one of my very favorite people. Her name is Lily.”
* * *
When Lily’s mother told her about the girl from Pennsylvania who didn’t like to talk and was staying at the Heart Sent, Lily wanted to know all about her.
What was her name?
How old was she?
Why was she in Magdalena?
Was she with her mom and dad?
And the biggest question of all: why didn’t she like to talk?
So many questions filled her head, swirled around like a milkshake in a blender. Her mother told her the girl’s name was Hope, and she was Mimi Pendergrass’s granddaughter.
Mimi had a granddaughter?
Yup, Mom said she did, and now she was in town with her mother, and a man-friend came, too. Was he a kissy-kissy man-friend? Lily giggled. Why did so many people pretend they were just friends when they were really boyfriend and girlfriend? She bet Max and the lady with the pretty brown eyes were kissy-kissy friends. He got all red when she asked and his lips got all twitchy.
But sometimes she could tell before it even happened. Pop called that intuition, and he said you either had it or you didn’t, and Lily had it. And that’s why Mimi Pendergrass wanted her to meet her granddaughter, Hope, the girl who didn’t like to talk.
Lily had never met anybody who didn’t like to talk, unless you counted Nate when he was in a frowny-face mood or had to think. That’s when he wanted “complete silence.” It was hard to wait until he gave the go-ahead to talk again, but she knew his brain needed the quiet to figure out problems. Some people’s brain couldn’t work right unless the whole room was quiet. Nate was one of those people. Pop Benito was not.
Pop could talk and work on problems with the television and the radio blaring, plus he didn’t care if she talked, too, not like Nate did. And sometimes Pop would even sing and dance around the kitchen while he sorted out whatever was in his head. She’d asked Nate why he couldn’t do that, but he acted like he hadn’t heard her like he did when he didn’t want to answer. Lily knew his tricks, and whether he knew it or not, she had a few of her own.
And that’s why she was going to see if she could help Mimi’s granddaughter be not so shy—at least around her. At two o’clock the afternoon after Mimi called, Lily rang the doorbell of the Heart Sent and waited. She’d counted to seven when Mimi opened the door, her dangle-ball earrings bouncing as she moved her head.
“Lily! Thank you so much for coming.”
“You’re welcome.” She held out a small white box. “I made vanilla pizzelles.”
Mimi accepted the box, her face breaking out with a big smile. “Did you make these yourself, Lily?”
She nodded. “Yup. Mom didn’t even double-check me this time.”
“Goodness gracious, but I am impressed. Come on in and let me fix you a glass of lemonade.”
Lily glanced into the other rooms as she followed Mimi into the kitchen. “Where’s Hope?” she whispered.
“She’s outside on the swing,” Mimi whispered back, pointing to the back door that led to the flower gardens. “She’s discovered the birdfeeders and the birdbath.”
“Did she see any finches?” Lily loved to watch the finches dart from the pink flowers to the purple ones, almost like they were bouncing. The hummingbirds were her very favorites, but they usually came in late spring and summer when the flower blooms were wide open.
“I don’t know if she saw them.” Mimi handed her two glasses of lemonade. “Why don’t you carry these and I’ll fix a few pizzelles. I’ll bet Hope’s never tasted a pizzelle before.”
Lily licked her lips, said in an almost-outdoor voice, “Then today’s her lucky d
ay, isn’t it, Mimi?”
“Yes, dear, it certainly is.” She opened the box Lily had given her, set four pizzelles on a plastic plate. “Now let’s go meet Hope.”
Lily followed Mimi out the back door and down three wooden steps to the backyard and what she liked to call “The Magical Garden.” Mimi had all kinds of flowers growing in special beds, but it was all the extra stuff that made the gardens magic. There were four shiny glass globes on small stands, and animals, too. Bunnies, deer, and a little puppy made from something Mimi called ceramics. There were even fake flowers made from the ceramic stuff, painted bright colors, and stuck in the ground on a metal stem. Mimi made all of them, and she let Lily give the animals names. There was Betsy and Georgie, Sally and Benjamin, and—
“Lily, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Hope.” Mimi smiled at them. “Hope, this is my friend Lily. She brought you fresh-squeezed lemonade and some very special cookies called pizzelles.”
Hope stared at Lily, slid her gaze to the lemonade, then landed on the pizzelles. Lily counted to three and when Hope didn’t speak, she decided she would. “Hi, Hope. Did you see any birds in the feeder or the bath?” When the girl shook her head, Lily lowered her voice. “If you sit real still, they’ll come around, but sometimes the squirrels try to get the food.” She paused, thought a second. “Or the mean birds. They’re the blue jays. I think they’re pretty, but I don’t know why they have to be so mean.” She thrust the glass of lemonade at Hope. “Here. Your grandma made it and whatever she makes is really good.”
Hope took the glass, said in a tiny inside voice, “Thank you.”
“Can I sit on the swing with you?” When Hope nodded, Lily scooched onto it, patted the slats between them. “You can put the pizzelles right here. Hope and I will share. We each get two.”
“Sounds like a grand idea.” Mimi set the plate between them, eyed Hope, then Lily. “I’ll be inside, peeling apples for tonight’s apple crumble. If it’s finished before you leave, I’ll send you home with a piece.” She nodded and her dangle-ball earrings bounced up and down. “Let me know if you want more lemonade.”
