Instead, she pushed the sugar container toward him. “Sugar?”
“No, thanks.” From his expression, he wasn’t in the bakery to make a social call. “Are you sure I’m not interrupting?”
“Positive. We can talk while I―” She was usually cleaning off the tables and pouring coffee, which reminded her of the sullen teenager. She had completely forgotten their order. Her face went hot. Andy walked in and she couldn’t even remember to pour the coffee. “Oh, my goodness. Just a moment.”
She rushed to their table with two mugs and the coffee pot.
“And the sugar and cream?” The girl was wrinkling her nose as she spoke. Mamere always bought Beau Monde coffee, the best coffee the South had to offer, but the way she brewed it wasn’t for the weak.
“Right. One sec.” Roxie rushed back to the counter and grabbed the creamer. The little sugar container was empty. Of course. She darted into the back and scooped sugar out of the large container.
“Everything okay out there, sha?” Mamere looked up from where she’d been decorating the morning batch of cupcakes.
“Perfect,” she said, trying to look confident.
“It’s too bad Raylene is feelin’ under the weather this week but it’s good to know we can still run this place by our ourselves.” Mamere smiled over her shoulder as she went back to her work, murmuring to herself. “Now, if I could just remember where I put that bottle of blue food dye.”
By ourselves. It was clear by the state of the kitchen that they weren’t really managing by themselves. Not a single customer had gone hungry, but the clean-up took hours. Roxie had been driving Mamere home after closing, promising that cleaning the kitchen would take no time at all. In truth, every day that week she’d fallen into bed after midnight, and then crawled out of it only a few hours later. She couldn’t let Mamere start up the fryers and ovens alone anymore. Not the way she was forgetting.
Roxie headed for the front, but caught a glimpse of her reflection in the little mirror near the swinging door. A gasp escaped her as she surveyed her reflection. Her hair had almost completely escaped its ponytail, she had dark circles under her eyes, and the blue ball point pen stuck out like a short feeler. The place had made her into an old waitress in just a few weeks. She yanked out the pen and tightened her ponytail, but there was nothing she could do about the dark circles.
She delivered the sugar dispenser to the grumpy teenager and hustled back to the counter. “So, how can I help you?”
He stared into his cup and looked as if he were searching for words. She gently took it from him and filled it again.
“Thanks.”The corners of his mouth tilted up. It was a start.
“Amazing what a good cup of coffee can do.”
Andy nodded, but the brief glimpse of the regular Andy was gone. The new, serious Andy was back. “This is going to sound odd but I wanted to let you know I’m having a visitor, an out-of-town guest for several weeks.”
A few dozen thoughts flew through Roxie’s mind and several looped around to hover prominently. The most obvious possibility was a girlfriend. A guy like Andy must be fending off half the eligible women in New York. But a visiting girlfriend would surely elicit a happier attitude. Maybe a parent he didn’t really get along with was coming to stay. She knew exactly what it was like to spend time with relatives. It was why she lived above By The Book in the first place. But he could simply put up overbearing relations at the Judge Porter or Violet Hill.
“Not a chef, I take it.” It had to be a friend. One mysterious, complicated friend. That was her best guess. “Planning on throwing some loud parties?”
“Parties? No.” Andy took a sip of coffee and for a few seconds Roxie wasn’t sure he was going to say anything more. “My brother Mark is coming and everything should be fine. No problems at all.”
He seemed to be talking to himself. “But just in case, I wanted you to know he was there. In case he needed anything.”
“Of course.” Roxie struggled to make sense of what he was asking. This brother was probably the black sheep, always causing issues. Andy seemed to be such a good guy, it made sense that his sibling would be the rabble rouser. “Where does he live?”
“In a group home.”
“A… group home?”
Andy shook his head. “I’m not explaining this well. Let me start over. My brother Mark is mentally handicapped and he’s coming to visit. He usually lives in a group home so he has a little supervision, but he does really well on his own. He’ll be with me most of the time but if anything comes up where I need to go out for a few hours, it should be fine. He’s pretty happy by himself. He watches ‘Free Willy’ and eats Pringles. That’s his thing. Oh, and he bags groceries at a little supermarket near him. And he likes dogs. I don’t have a dog, but he likes dogs.”
He opened his mouth to say more, but then seemed to decide against it.
She took a few seconds to absorb the information. “Pringles are good. I used to love those when I was little.”
“Sour cream and onion flavor. He doesn’t eat any other kind.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Never liked those. Well, I should meet him as soon as he arrives, so he knows me. That might make it easier if he needs to come get me.” She held up a hand. “No, this may not work. I’m not home all the time. What if you go out, and he needs help, and I’m here at the bakery.” Where she was spending eighteen hours of every day.
“Alice and Paul have said they’d be glad to help out. I really don’t think it’ll be a problem. I’ve shuffled my schedule for the next week and like I said, I’ll be with him most of the time.”
“You’ll be on vacation? That’ll be okay, then.”
“Sort of.” He frowned into his coffee cup. “Technically I’m the chief financial officer and Paul’s the chief executive officer, but our roles are pretty fluid. We both put in way too many hours. It seems like we’re running from meeting to meeting.” He looked up. “I’m not complaining. I know exactly how great we have it. Especially me.”
Roxie nodded. “I get it.” She really did. Raylene had a schedule. She came in when her shift started, and left when it ended. But Roxie’s never ended. She never clocked out because there was no time card.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about him, before he gets here, just in case the occasion ever came up…” His voice trailed off. “Honestly, I feel like I’m setting the stage for a big disaster. I’ve got to really think about this.”
“Maybe we can work out a better schedule if you wait a little. Is he not happy where he is?”
He looked up at her. “I’m not happy where he is. I thought it would be fine. But it’s not. I can’t tell how he’s doing just by a phone call. The housemother said she’d let me know if he needed anything but I spend most of my time worried that something has happened and nobody noticed.” He glanced over her shoulder, through the little window where Mamere placed the orders from the kitchen. “You understand.”
She did. She knew exactly what he meant. Reaching out, she took his hand. “Bring him here. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
“Thank you,” he said. He seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he dropped his gaze to their hands and stayed silent.
Roxie let go and reached for the coffee pot. She poured a little into his mug, just for something to do.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Of course.” Roxie’s mouth went dry. Not the cupcake. Please.
“What do they mean?”
She didn’t understand until she followed his gaze to her bracelets. “Oh, they’re just… it’s silly.” She wanted to stomp on her own toes. It wasn’t silly at all. It was simply that she’d forgotten how to talk to anyone about poetry, or words that had touched her soul and that she wanted to carry within her forever.
He met her gaze and waited.
“I’ll tell you another time.” She felt a twinge of shame at her rudeness. “Well, I won’t bore you with all of them. Jus
t pick one and I’ll tell you about that one.”
He reached out and touched them one by one. “The flame.”
“In the Divine Comedy, Dante wrote that a great flame follows from a tiny spark,” she said.
He turned the charm between his fingers, silent.
She had never told anyone about the meaning behind the charms. No one had ever asked. “It’s a reminder to me to keep working toward what I want in life. Nothing comes easily. And sometimes what we work so hard for doesn’t even arrive in our lifetime. Sometimes our best work is enjoyed by the people who come after us.”
Just when she thought he wasn’t going to respond, he nodded and sat back. “Thank you for explaining.”
She wasn’t sure where the conversation was supposed to go from there. “So, you’re leaving soon?”
“I’m flying up to get Mark tomorrow. We’ll be back in the evening. So, if we could―”
“Of course. Just let me know the time and I’ll pop back to the apartment. Or you could bring him here. Is he okay with crowds?” As soon as she asked the question she felt her face go warm. “That was probably a dumb question. You said he was mentally handicapped, not autistic.”
“Actually, that was a good question. For a long time we didn’t know exactly what Mark’s diagnosis was and it didn’t seem to matter much.” An expression crossed his face but it was too quick for her to catch. Maybe sadness, or anger. “He has several different issues and one puts him on the autism spectrum. He really needs his routine. But at the same time, if he’s not rushed too much, he likes to get out and see people. I’m not really sure how he’s going to handle this trip. But I want to try.”
“And if it doesn’t work out?”
“I’ll head home to New York City. I don’t want to come to the end of my life and regret not having spent time with him.”
Roxie nodded, not knowing what else to say. A week ago, she still thought she was going back to Philadelphia. She just hadn’t known when. Now it was clear that she was stuck in Natchitoches until― She brushed away the thought.
“That must have been hard to tell Paul.”
His eyes were sad. “We met in college, freshman year. We’re like brothers. And if this doesn’t work out with Mark…”
“You’ll be choosing between them.”
“No, I’ll be choosing Mark. He needs me more.” Andy straightened up, glancing around the bakery. “Lots of people have to move for their jobs. It happens. They Skype or call. We can visit.”
Roxie knew he was trying to convince himself. “How old is Mark?”
“Thirty-four. He’s two years older than I am. He has a heart murmur. It’s never caused him any trouble but...” Another statement meant to reassure himself but seemed to do the opposite.
She swallowed hard. Mamere was losing her memory, but she had lived a full life. Mark had never been independent, never married or had children. He might be at the end of his life already. Roxie didn’t know which one was worse. They were both awful.
“Tolstoy,” she said without thinking.
“Excuse me?”
Roxie shook her head. “Tolstoy. He said happy families were all alike but each unhappy family was unhappy in its own way.”
“That’s about right, isn’t it?” Andy said. “I don’t want you to think he doesn’t enjoy life. He’s very happy with what he has. He understands he’s not like everyone else but he doesn’t struggle with it.” He met her eyes. “I love him, just the way he is. I wouldn’t ever wish for a life where he didn’t exist. Some people might say that’s selfish but I see the joy in his eyes and I know he’s glad to be here. And I’m glad he’s here, too.”
He’d read her thoughts on her face and she felt the correction in his words. Roxie had never considered herself one of those people that judged a person’s value on how intelligent they were, or what they could contribute to society, but clearly she held an extreme prejudice without even knowing it. Roxie wanted to ask him to disregard anything she said, that she was lost, floundering around the topic, and she would surely say a few more terrible things before the week was over, but she didn’t.
“I should get going. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.” He stood up. The bakery was half full but by some miracle, no one had needed anything while they’d been talking. Roxie suspected that most of the customers were watching intently and didn’t want to interrupt the drama. Andy walked to the cash register a few feet away and took out his wallet.
“Oh, no, that’s on us.” Roxie waved him away. “And if you can wait just one more second.”
She darted into the back, searching for the freshest beignets. Mamere had just taken some from the fryer a few minutes before and was sprinkling on the powdered sugar. Roxie grabbed a pair of tongs and a paper bag, and filled it to the top.
“We should use the ones in the front display, sha.” Mamere wandered over to Roxie. “These will be nice and fresh for the late afternoon crowd.”
“Special order,” Roxie said and kissed her on the cheek.
Mamere peered out toward the counter. “Ah, it’s your young man. Better take another bag.”
“He’s not mine and I think one bag is enough.” Roxie hurried to the door. “No need to come out. He’s already―”
“Good morning, Miss CeeCee.” Andy peered through the little window and waved into the kitchen.
“Good to see ya, Andy. I heard about your cookin’. You come in every morning, ya hear? We’ll set you up with coffee that will carry you through the day. Keep that brain runnin’ at top speed.” Mamere tapped her temple. “Not that ya need any help, I’m sure.”
His mouth twitched. “I need all the help I can get.”
Roxie pushed open the door and handed him the bag. “A few for the road.”
“I really should pay―”
“Please. You really helped us out the other night.”
He took the bag. “Warm, too. I guess this settles your debt.”
She tried to keep a straight face. He never would have called in the favor but it made her feel good that he’d come to her about Mark.
“Yes. We’re even steven now.” Except for the drink the first day they met. There were some kindnesses a person couldn’t repay.
“See you tomorrow?”
She loved that he made the sentence a question. He could have marched in to the bakery and assumed she had all the time in the world to talk, but he asked for a few minutes. When he brought up Mark’s needs, he could have assumed she’d be available whenever they might need her. Even now, he could simply remind her that they were meeting tomorrow, but he was asking.
“Tomorrow,” she said, and stood there long after he’d walked out the front door.
Roxie had always rolled her eyes at the overly romantic depictions of someone in love, especially the anatomically impossible descriptions of hearts dropping, swelling, or skipping beats. But looking at Andy, Roxie felt her own heart move inside her, reacting to his words without her permission, just like it had at their first meeting. Finding out she was one of those romantics who believed in insta-love was like finding out she was a mermaid when her whole life she’d thought she was regular girl. She had fallen in love with him in minutes, and the connection had never wavered. Her heart was irrevocably changed.
Chapter Nine
Home, nowadays, is a place where part of the family waits
till the rest of the family brings the car back. ―Earl Wilson
Andy flipped through a few more printed sheets. He had already sent copies of the presentation material to his top team members but liked to leave several paper versions, just in case there was a technology glitch.
The sun was shining in the long glass windows of the top floor. Andy considered getting up and hitting the button for the automatic blinds but didn’t want to take the time. The boardroom wasn’t the easiest place to work, but it was the quietest. He found that if he stayed in his office, the phone never stopped ringing and there was a never-endi
ng line of visitors at the door.
Men are wretched things. Homer must have written that when he was hungry. Breakfast had been forever ago and he should really order up a sandwich from the cafeteria downstairs. He thought of Roxie listing all her favorite food and his stomach growled. If only there was a great Thai place in town, or even Indian. They could go together and… Andy pushed the idea away. There would be no dates with Roxie, whether on a search for good food or not.
In two hours, he’d take the jet up to New York and bring back Mark. They’d talked about it over the phone but that didn’t mean Mark understood exactly what this trip would entail. Mark’s housemother had promised he’d be packed, but it was possible that Andy could get there and Mark would refuse to leave the house. Very possible. That would leave Andy with only one other option.
There was a knock at the door and just as Andy decided not to respond, it opened. Paul walked in, carrying a paper bag in one arm and Aurora in the other. She waved her arms and squealed when she saw Andy. She had on a little pink T-shirt with a bouquet of brightly colored flowers with “For Algernon” printed underneath. He reached for her and she latched on to him like a starfish to a rock.
“Hey, I thought you guys were at the bookstore today.”
“Miss Bookworm tried to rearrange the classic science fiction section again and her mama decided we needed to visit my office.” Paul smiled as he sat down across from Andy. He pushed the bag toward him. “Got you some ribs and biscuits at The Red Hen. I knew you’d be in here, preparing the reports and doing last minute prep before you left.”
“It’s kind of creepy how well you know me.”
Paul grinned. “I lied. Mrs. Connors called me. She said you’d been in here for hours and if I was coming this way, I could just pick up some lunch for you.”
“That woman is a saint.” Andy opened it, inhaling the scent of barbeque. He thought he’d had his fill of ribs in the last few months, but they looked very edible at the moment.
Aurora reached for a rib, a hopeful expression on her face.
Paul scooted the bag out of her way. “None for you, sha.” He pulled out a bag of Cheerios and she reluctantly took it. “The part about Alice was true, though. She refuses to consolidate that back room and make it into a play area. She thinks the customers will be horrified to find their paperbacks have gone missing.”
Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series Page 87
