She did. You never knew. Maybe it would come true. Maybe things would, somehow, work out for them.
And maybe that whole shooting-star thing was totally bogus.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cass, Charley and Samantha often met for coffee on a Monday. It was a day off for Charley and Cass, and Samantha could always manage to get away for lunch or a latte.
This Monday they’d gathered at Bailey’s tearoom, which was closed, to give their opinions on the chicken-curry-salad croissant sandwiches Bailey was thinking of adding to her menu.
“Thumbs up,” Cass told her.
“I think you’ve got a winner,” Charley agreed, making Bailey beam with pleasure.
She looked to her big sister. “What do you think, Sammy?”
“You already got the experts’ opinions, but I agree.”
That clinched it. “I’m going to definitely include it,” Bailey said. “It’s actually Beth’s recipe. It’s in her new cookbook.”
“I can hardly wait for that to come out,” Charley said. “You should do one,” she said to Bailey. “I’d pay the price simply for your lavender sugar cookie recipe.” Her sunny expression clouded over. “Melody loved those.”
Cass laid a comforting hand on her arm.
“What happened to her sucks,” Bailey said with a shake of her head.
“How are her parents doing?” Samantha asked.
“They’re struggling,” said Charley. “Talking about moving. I can’t say I blame them. I’d want to get away, too.” She broke off a piece of croissant and crumbled it. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“Short of bringing back their child, there isn’t anything,” Samantha said. “Other than to let them talk about her. Probably the worst thing is feeling like people have forgotten that person you lost. I know Mom felt that way after Dad died. Everyone turns out for the funeral, but then people get on with their lives.”
“Well, and people are afraid to talk about the person who died for fear of upsetting the family,” Cass added. “But then I think the family themselves start to feel forgotten.”
“I don’t want her parents to feel that way,” Charley said.
“How about some gesture to let them know you’re still there for them?” Cass suggested. “Like flowers.”
“Oh, yes,” Bailey agreed. “Say it with flowers.”
“That sounds like an ad,” her sister said.
“It sounds like a good idea,” said Charley.
So after lunch she and Cass left Bailey working on her menu and sent Samantha back to Sweet Dreams to keep the town supplied with chocolate while they made their way to Lupine Floral.
Heinrich Blum, the owner, was putting a summer arrangement in the cooler when they walked in. His partner, Kevin, was ringing up a sale for Brad.
“Oh, look! Beauty times two,” called Kevin.
“You’re so full of it,” Cass told him, then said to Brad, “Roses, huh? You going for the good-husband award?”
Brad’s cheeks turned almost as red as the roses, and she instantly regretted her cheeky comment. She hadn’t meant anything by it, but he probably thought she was alluding to his naughty behavior during the great remodel war.
“You’re a good husband,” she added, hoping he’d get the message that she’d never taken sides. Brad hadn’t been the only one misbehaving.
“Thanks,” he said, his cheeks still red.
“Stef will love them,” Cass assured him.
“I hope so. Well, better get going,” he said and hustled out of the shop.
“And what did he do, I wonder,” Kevin said and looked hopefully at Cass.
“Honestly, Kevin, just because a man buys flowers for his wife it doesn’t mean he’s in trouble,” Charley said.
“Nine times out of ten it does,” Kevin insisted. “I’m sure he’s done something.”
Cass wasn’t about to feed Kevin’s curiosity. “Never mind him. Charley’s looking for a nice arrangement for Melody’s parents.”
Kevin immediately sobered. “That’s sweet of you. Those poor people. I can’t even begin to imagine what they’re going through.”
“Me, either,” Charley said, slipping a hand to her belly.
Heinrich came over with the arrangement he’d put in the cooler. “How about this? I just made it.”
“That will do the trick,” said Charley. “It’s beautiful and you are a true artiste.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but he’s a retiring artiste,” said Kevin.
“What? You’re too young to retire,” Cass protested.
“Dear girl, I’m fifty-eight. I’m ready for a change.”
“We’re off to San Francisco,” Kevin said and began to croon the famous song about leaving his heart there.
“Why would you want to leave Icicle Falls?” Charley wondered.
“How about for a nightlife?” countered Kevin.
Charley frowned. “We have a nightlife at Zelda’s.”
“You know we love you all,” said Heinrich, “but this crazy thing wants to get back to a big city. So what could I say?”
“Oh, you could have said any number of things,” Kevin quipped. “But lucky for you, you didn’t.”
“What about the flower shop?” Charley asked.
“Sold it,” Heinrich said. “To a nice woman from Seattle. She was here this last weekend looking at houses. I think she looked at one over on your street,” he told Cass.
“Griffin’s house?”
“Maybe. Anyway, she’s planning on making an offer.”
“That’ll make Griffin happy.” And it would make Stef sad.
Charley turned over her charge card and Kevin promised to deliver the arrangement that afternoon.
He turned to Cass. “And how about you, Miz Gingerbread? What would you like?”
For Grant Masters to show up on her doorstep with or without flowers. The chances of that happening were about as high as a blizzard in Hawaii.
She pointed to a big bouquet of stargazer lilies in the cooler. “I’ll take that.” A little extravagant but she was worth it. She, too, handed over her charge card.
Once home with her flowers, she set them on the kitchen counter and admired them. Flowers truly were good for the soul.
Lady Gray hopped up on the counter to investigate, and Cass put her back on the floor. “Nice try, but you don’t get to be up there. I paid too much for these for you to be knocking them over. And no rude comments about having to buy my own flowers,” she added as the cat meowed. “I don’t need a man to send me flowers. I don’t need a man, period,” she muttered for what felt like the millionth time. “I’ve gotten along on my own all these years.”
And it looked like she was going to be getting along on her own for a lot more. Darn that chicken Grant Masters.
* * *
Griffin’s house sold to the new owner of Lupine Floral, and now it was time to organize for her big move. Stef and Cass came over to help her get started on her packing.
She was keeping very little. Her high school yearbook, her Jane Austen novels, the teacups Beth had given her...those and her linens and extra clothes she’d take to Oregon for her parents to store until she got settled. As soon as the house closed she’d send Steve a check for his share of the profits, pay her dad back and have a little left over to live on in New York.
Very little. She’d have to be frugal. But that was a skill she’d already honed. You’ll be fine, she kept telling herself. Alone and scared, but fine.
“Take your spices with you,” Cass advised. “They won’t take up that much room in your suitcase, and spices can be expensive to replace.”
Speaking of replacing, she’d never be able to replace these two women, who had been such
good friends to her. “I’m so going to miss you guys.”
Stef’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s not going to be the same without you. But we’ll have a place to stay when we come to New York,” she added with forced joviality.
“Absolutely,” said Griffin.
“You’ve got to be getting excited now that the house has sold,” Cass said.
“I am. I’m a little nervous, too, though.”
“You’ll be fine,” Cass assured her.
“And if you don’t like it you can always come back. Once an Icicle, always an Icicle, right, Cass?”
“Absolutely,” Cass said.
Once an Icicle, always an Icicle. There was a lot of truth in that. This town felt like home. Would she ever feel at home in New York?
* * *
Between working and keeping up with her friends as well as helping Griffin get ready to move, Cass had kept busy. But in spite of her full schedule, in spite of the pep talks she kept giving herself, she was aware of the empty space in her life that could have been filled so well by a certain handyman.
Other than running into Grant a couple of times at Zelda’s, Cass saw little of him. He was always friendly. She tried to tease him the way she had when he’d been working at her place, encouraged him to stop by Gingerbread Haus for cookies.
“I owe you. Remember?”
He’d smile and say he did, indeed, remember, but he never took her up on her offer. And she became increasingly cranky. She actually snapped at Jet for forgetting to lock the door of the shop. And she’d complained when the gang wanted to watch a romantic comedy on one of their chick-flick nights. “I’m sick of romances.”
Charley had pointed a finger at her. “You are in serious need of sex.”
“Well, that’s not happening. Let’s watch something grisly.”
“That won’t be good for the baby,” Charley had said, patting her growing baby bump.
Cass had been outvoted and pouted her way through the entire movie. Romantic comedy, bleh. There was nothing funny about romance.
Griffin’s approaching departure put Stef in a bad mood, as well, and she spent more than one evening over at Cass’s house, mourning the upcoming loss of her friend. “Maybe we need to rename our street,” Cass said one evening as they sat on Stef’s front porch watching Brad and Petey play catch in the front yard. “Instead of Blackberry Lane we should call it Grumpy Gulch.”
“Why are you grumpy?” Stef asked. “Your roof and deck are done.”
That was the problem. No more reason for Grant to come over. “I don’t know,” she lied.
Nobody knew how fixated she was on Grant except her cat. She meant to keep it that way. As far as Stef was concerned, she and Mr. Fix-It were only friends.
But friends saw each other more than she and Grant did. The big coward.
June melted into July, and Cass’s house came back to life with two of her kids back home for the summer. Willie was job-hunting—sending out résumés and vanishing every few days for job interviews. Amber was working part-time at the nearby dude ranch while she waited for fall quarter to roll around. When she wasn’t working, she often had friends over, and Cass found her evenings busy as she baked cookies and sometimes even let herself be persuaded to play board games or cards. She enjoyed her kids’ friends, and having the house full of youth and laughter distracted her from the fact that a certain man was no longer around.
More distraction came when Dani and her family came home for the Fourth of July celebrations. And there would be plenty. On the Fourth, the town would have a parade, which would pretty much be a repeat of the Memorial Day parade. The food booths and arts-and-crafts displays would return, too. There’d be picnicking in the afternoon and fireworks on the river at night. And, of course, everyone would turn out for the annual street dance on the third.
Dancing. Bah. But her kids insisted she go.
“You can’t sit home alone, Mom,” Dani declared, and just in case her daughter started talking about moving her old mom to Spokane again, she donned a denim skirt and red top and her favorite flats and went to the street dance.
“How come you’re not going with Mr. Masters?” Amber asked as they walked into town.
Because Mr. Masters is a big chicken. “We’re just friends, honey.” And not even friends with benefits. What a rotten deal.
“He’s really nice,” Dani said.
“Don’t be matching Mom up, guys,” Willie scolded.
“Why?” Dani retorted. “You don’t want her to be alone all her life, do you?”
Dani turned to her mother. “Has he kissed you?”
Amber took it further. “Have you guys done it?”
“Aw, jeez. Don’t go there,” Willie said in disgust. “My mom having sex, that’s an image I don’t need stuck in my head.”
“And just how do you think you got here?” Cass teased.
“That’s different. You were young then.”
“Mom’s not that old now,” Dani pointed out.
“Yeah,” said Cass. “And watch it with the insults or you’re out of the will.”
“Ha-ha, we’re the new favorites,” Amber gloated.
Happily, after that the subject was dropped. The last thing she needed was her children poking their noses into her love life. Or rather, her nonexistent love life.
She supposed it was only natural that they’d think she had something going with Grant. She’d brought him to Willie’s graduation. Probably not the wisest move. Still, it had felt good to show Mason that she hadn’t ruined her life forever by divorcing him. That she, too, could actually move on, find someone who’d love her.
Too bad that wasn’t true. She was now forty-six and still alone.
And whose fault was that? It wasn’t as if she’d been actively looking all these years.
But when had she had time? She’d been busy raising her children and running a business.
She had time now, though, and it was extremely irritating that the man she wanted was not cooperating. She’d enjoyed that trip over to Seattle. Grant had fit in so perfectly at the party. They’d felt like a couple. At least they had to her.
She had to let go of her fixation with Grant. Trying to nudge him into taking friendship to the next level was like trying to get a fallen soufflé to stand up again. You couldn’t.
Would he be at the street dance?
Center Street was the place to be, with people of all ages milling around and many already dancing to a popular local band called Good Times. An appropriate name considering the fact that everyone was having a good time. Grown-ups stood chatting, while their kids created sidewalk art with chalk supplied by local merchants. Food booths lined the sides of the street, offering Fourth of July favorites like strawberry shortcake, ribs, hamburgers and corn on the cob.
Griffin had come with the Stahls.
“Where’s Matt?” Cass asked as Brad and Stef joined the dancers, little Petey jumping along behind them.
“He can’t come up. He’s working tonight, and his restaurant has a booth all day for the Fourth of July in Seattle. We need to start cooling things anyway.”
She didn’t lack for men to dance with. Billy Williams, the local doofus affectionately known as Bill Will, came up, convinced her she was in for a treat and hauled her into the growing crowd.
Oh, yeah. It was going to be a great evening standing here watching everyone else, Cass thought irritably. Willie had already found a couple of friends and wandered off. Danielle and Mike were dancing with Emma, and one of the cowboys from the local guest ranch had taken Amber to a food booth for corn dogs.
Well, it was fun to people watch, anyway. Brad and Stef were having a terrific time. Ever since they’d patched things up, they’d been acting like newlyweds, and Stef had reported that this last
anniversary was the best yet. Brad had loved his new game table and she had loved their trip to Victoria.
Tilda Morrison was in her cop uniform, watching the dancers with a vigilant eye. Her husband came up beside her and offered her a bottle of water, and her stony don’t-mess-with-me expression softened into the smile of a woman in love.
Farther down the street, Muriel strolled along with Dot. An old guy came up next to them and, even from where Cass stood, it wasn’t hard to tell he was hitting on Muriel.
Everyone here was coupled up, it seemed. Oh, yeah, Cass was having fun now.
Then she caught sight of Grant, a few bodies down to her left. He’d been cornered by a sixtysomething pudgy woman wearing shorts and a sleeveless red top. She’d accessorized with cat’s eye sunglasses, a floppy red hat and red flip-flops with poufy fake red flowers on them.
Grant looked miserable. Cass to the rescue.
She strolled up to the pair and tapped him on the shoulder. “Did you forget where we were meeting?”
“Uh, yeah. I did.”
“Oh, you’re with someone?” The woman lowered her glasses and frowned at Cass.
“Um,” Grant said.
“He’s with me,” Cass said and gave his arm a tug.
He followed like a reluctant pony. But he had the grace to thank her for rescuing him.
“It’s more than you deserve. Some friend you turned out to be, always dodging me.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy hiding from me.” The band started a slow song, and she looked longingly at the dancers and heaved a sigh.
“That was subtle,” he said.
“I thought so.”
He shook his head, took her hand and led her to the edge of the crowd. “Why don’t you find someone your own age to play with?” he complained as they began swaying to the music.
“I like older men. More mature. Anyway, you know I’ve got a crush on George Clooney and you’re as close as I can come.”
“Funny,” he said sarcastically.
“Listen, Grant. I know you’re bothered by the age difference between us. But what does it matter, really?”
Starting Over on Blackberry Lane--A Romance Novel Page 27
