The Sugar Queen

by Sarah Addison Allen

Jake knew his father well enough to know that he wasn’t going to leave. He let go of Chloe’s hand and cupped her face. “We’re not through, okay?”

  Her expression was flat now, and he could only guess what was going through her mind.

  “Jake!” Kyle said when Jake took too long.

  Jake reluctantly left her. When he passed by the coffeemaker, he heard the water boiling inside, which gave him a small but precious bit of comfort.

  He crossed the rotunda, his father on his heels. When they got outside, the air was apple-cool, moist and crisp from the snow last week. Jake rounded on Kyle. “Stay out of this.”

  “How can I stay out of it when you’re messing everything up?” Kyle said. “You don’t know what you’re doing. I told you to stay away from her. I told you to let her come to you. And I thought we agreed you would buy that house out from under her. If you had only told me you’d chickened out, I would’ve been able to do it. But no. I called this morning and they’re not accepting any other offers. Now she’s moving out on you.”

  Jake stared at his father. It might not make him much of a Yardley, but Jake had never understood how anyone could withhold approval. If someone did something good, what was the harm in acknowledging it? Kyle was certainly fast enough with his comments when Jake screwed up.

  “I’ve done more things right than I have wrong,” Jake said. “But you’re never going to see it that way, are you? Chloe sees it. In fact, she’s the only person in my life who does. I’m making my choice right now, and I have more faith in her forgiveness than I do in yours. Excuse me.”

  Jake left him standing there and went back inside. But when he got back to her shop, Chloe had gone into the storeroom and closed the door.

  12

  Mr. Goodbar

  Monday night Josey looked in the mirror over her dresser and tugged at her lucky red cardigan. She wore it with a gray wool skirt she rarely went out in because it had subtle red embroidery along the hem and her mother didn’t like it. She didn’t have a turtleneck that matched, so she was actually wearing one of Della Lee’s, a Lycra one that was too small, but if she kept her cardigan buttoned, hopefully Adam wouldn’t be able to tell.

  Her hair was down, her curls tamed. And she was wearing makeup, thanks to Della Lee’s tutelage. Josey finally turned away from the mirror and picked up her coat. When she put it on, her fingers were clumsy with the buttons. She grew impatient with herself and dropped her hands in frustration.

  She walked to her window for the fortieth time. She felt a catch of panic that made her lose her breath. There was an SUV there that wasn’t there before. “Oh, God. He’s here.”

  Della Lee looked up. She was still working on her collage. She’d taken all the images she’d cut from the travel magazines and was using a glue stick to paste them on the flat surface of the lid from her private box. She’d started with the individual letters she’d cut out that spelled BON VOYAGE. “I don’t understand you, Josey. Shouldn’t you be a little happier? I thought this was what you wanted.”

  Josey turned to her. Della Lee had, inexplicably, several pencils in her hair today. “This is what I want,” Josey said. “I just wish I knew what he wanted.”

  “Because asking you on a date is so unclear?”

  “That’s just it. Why did he ask me? Is this just a friend thing? Maybe he only needed a date for this specific function, and any woman would do. Maybe it’s just a pity date. He did make a point of asking about my feelings for him before he asked me out, like he was making sure I knew he was doing me a favor.” She suddenly wanted to go in her closet. She wanted Mallomars and Jelly Nougats and creme-filled cookies. Her eyes went to the wall at the back of the closet.

  “Oh, no. No, no, no,” Della Lee said when she saw the look on Josey’s face. She set aside the collage and put her arms out wide. “Nothing is real in here. Your life is outside. It’s waiting for you.”

  Josey closed her eyes There was only one thing she wanted more than Mallomars and Jelly Nougats and creme-filled cookies.

  Adam.

  She picked up her purse, then hesitated at the door. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’t you?”

  “I’m not going anywhere yet,” Della Lee said. “For God’s sake, smile. This isn’t an execution.”

  Josey walked downstairs and into the sitting room. Helena was sewing crosses into the hem of a new dress, and Margaret was reading a true-confession magazine, which she kept hidden from company under her chair cushion. The television was on in the corner, the volume low.

  Margaret lifted her head, took off her reading glasses, and stared. “What is this?”

  Josey straightened her shoulders. “Mother, I know this is going to come as a surprise, but someone is about to come to the door. I have a date tonight. I won’t be gone long, and Helena will be here for you. Everything will be fine.”

  Helena didn’t look up from her sewing, but she smiled.

  “You’re wearing that sweater again,” Margaret said, as if she hadn’t heard a word Josey said. “You told me you threw it away.”

  “I know.”

  “And are you wearing makeup?” Margaret asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve always told you, with your coloring, makeup only makes you look cheap.”

  “Mother, did you miss the part about me saying I had a date?” There was a knock at the door and Josey felt lightheaded. “There he is. I warned him, but he wants to meet you anyway. Please be nice.”

  “You warned who? What did you say about me?”

  Josey walked to the front door and opened it. He looked wonderful in a cream-colored sweater and leather jacket. He was smiling. But for how long? She took him by the arm before he could say anything. “I apologize in advance,” she said as she pulled him in.

  “Why? You’re shaking.” He walked in and was immediately distracted. “Wow. I’ve never seen the inside of this place. It’s gorgeous.”

  She led him to the sitting room. She started to take her hand off his arm, but he put his hand over hers and kept it there. She could have cried. “Adam, this is Helena. And this is my mother, Margaret Cirrini.”

  “We’ve met a few times before,” Adam said affably. “But it’s nice to be formally introduced to you both.”

  Margaret’s brows rose. “You’re the mailman.”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe it,” she said, laughing. Her bad mood, now over a week old, seemed to disappear. “Oh, Josey, Josey, Josey.”

  Adam looked at Josey curiously. Josey just shook her head and took comfort in his hand on hers. Hold on, she wanted to say. Don’t let go.

  “I apologize for my daughter,” Margaret said to Adam, her laughter fading to a chuckle. “She’s not very schooled in these matters. I’ve always known she liked the mail, but it never occurred to me it was the mailman she liked. Josey honey, he doesn’t come to the door every day just for you. It’s his job. He does it for everyone.” She stood and walked over to them without her cane. She didn’t like to use her cane in front of visitors. “This is certainly awkward. If you’d like to leave now, young man, you may. There is no obligation.”

  “Actually, for years now I have come to the door just for her. Good evening, Mrs. Cirrini.” Still holding Josey’s hand on his arm, he turned and led her out. When they reached the porch, he said, “Can I take it you weren’t kidding about your maid putting curses on people either?”

  Before Josey could respond, Helena herself opened the door and stepped out.

  “Oldsey,” she said, thrusting her hand out to give Josey something. Josey hesitated, not wanting to take her hand off Adam’s arm. But Helena made a jerking motion with her hand. She wanted Josey to hold out her palm. Josey glanced at Adam, then reluctantly took her hand off of him. Helena immediately put a quarter and three small painted stones in Josey’s palm. “Keep you safe.”

  Josey wouldn’t be surprised at that moment if Adam decided to turn tail and run. “Thank you, Helena.”


  Helena turned to Adam and wagged her finger. “Oldsey love mail. Be good,” she said, then turned around and went back in the house.

  Everything was quiet for a moment. Josey stared at her palm. Adam stared at the front door.

  “Should I be scared?” Adam finally asked.

  “Only three orange stones,” she said, lifting her hand. “You got off easy.”

  He cupped her palm and lifted it to better see them. He was touching her a lot. Did that mean something? “What exactly does three stones mean?”

  “That she cares.”

  He laughed and folded her fingers over the stones. “Then I like her. Come on.” He led her to his SUV, then he helped her in. Minutes of awkward silence passed while he drove. She kept looking over to him, wanting to memorize everything, at the same time wondering when would be the right time to ask him why he was doing this. Maybe she should wait until the evening was over. Maybe she would know herself by then. Finally Adam cleared his throat and said, “So tell me about your mother.”

  Josey shifted uncomfortably. “What do you want to know?”

  “Is she always like that?”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  “She’s quite a bit older than you.”

  “She had me when she was forty-seven. My father was sixty-nine.”

  He gave a low whistle. “You were either a surprise, or a very long time coming.”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

  “Me too,” he said thoughtfully. “I got a little distracted back there. Did I mention you look beautiful tonight? I’ve always liked that sweater on you.”

  She turned to him. “You recognize this sweater?”

  He nodded. “You were wearing it the first day I met you.”

  Well, if she’d had any doubt before, it quickly disappeared. This sweater really was magic. “Just don’t ask me to take it off.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, no, wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly. “I just meant that the turtleneck under this sweater is too tight. It’s a little obscene.”

  He cut his eyes at her and smiled. “Now I’m intrigued.”

  Josey turned her head away. “I can’t believe I said that. That was one of the things I was not going to say.”

  “You had a list?” he asked. “It just so happens I like obscene women.”

  “You look very nice tonight too,” she said, trying to change the subject.

  “I’ll take off my sweater if you want me to,” Adam offered. “It’s not obscene, but I have some really interesting scars.”

  “Well, I think this is going well so far, don’t you?” Josey sighed.

  But Adam laughed and said, “In case I forget to tell you at the end of the night, I had a great time.”

  The retirement party was held in the VFW hall. There were paper streamers and garlands and tables piled high with fried food and desserts with frosting. Mostly, though, there was laughter. The hall echoed with it.

  It was serendipity that Adam had found this job. He’d only been in Bald Slope a few months, still going to the gym as part of his rehab, when he had a chance encounter with his mailman. It turned out the man was retiring soon and his sub was taking over his route, which meant they were looking for more subs at the post office. Adam figured all the walking would give him the exercise he needed, so he took the test. Later he bid on his own route and became full-time.

  It didn’t take long to learn that the downtown branch of the Bald Slope post office was known among the employees as Ski Bum Central. Over half of the carriers had come to Bald Slope just for the slopes and stayed. And half of those had some injury because of it. They all laughed about it and shrugged it off. Got back on the slopes again. They knew about Adam’s injuries, and he was sure they wondered why he was still there, since he didn’t ski anymore. They didn’t ask him, though. They all seemed to sense how guarded he was about what had happened to him.

  He and Josey drew a lot of interest when they walked in. He figured that would happen. What he didn’t count on, however, was the fact that they had no sooner made it to the punch bowl when Josey was descended upon and taken away by some women at the party. One of the women was Sabrina, a clerk, who prided herself on knowing everything about everyone at the post office. And Adam was her last, and toughest, nut to crack. Josey gave him a questioning look over her shoulder, as if to say, Is this normal? Is this supposed to happen? He smiled and was about to go after her, when Sabrina said something to her and Josey suddenly laughed.

  It stopped him short.

  He didn’t think he’d ever heard Josey laugh, not like that, unrestrained, unselfconscious. It was as clear and pure as water. He spent the rest of the evening watching her from across the hall. She surprised him by socializing with his coworkers better than he did. She was having a wonderful time. Without him.

  Sure, he hadn’t dated in a while, but he was pretty sure the purpose was to spend time together. So what was he doing all the way over here?

  As things were winding down, Adam finally walked across the hall to where she was sitting with Sabrina and a few other women. “Are you ready to go, Josey?”

  Sabrina nudged her with her elbow, like they’d been talking about him.

  They walked outside after they’d said their goodbyes. The stars were out, pinholes in dark fabric. They lingered at his SUV.

  “Want to get some coffee, maybe walk through the park?” Adam asked.

  She was flushed from the heat of the hall, still smiling from being around all those people. She didn’t get to do this often, he realized. She didn’t get to be herself, with people who didn’t know her. She was meant to be a social creature. He held his breath, waiting for her to answer, waiting to hear she actually wanted to spend time alone with him. “I’d love to,” she said.

  “Good.” He opened the passenger-side door for her. She got in, brushing him with the scent of peppermint.

  They got coffee at Dang! That’s Good, the bookstore café downtown. The bookstore, the newly renovated Downtown Inn, and a curving line of other shops surrounded the courthouse and the large open park. All the shops were decorated for Christmas, with twinkling white lights and foil and tinsel. Even the bare trees in the park had lights in them. The downtown library, one street over, rose up behind the buildings, its dramatic arches almost white in the moonlight. It looked like a frosted confection, like God could break off a piece and eat it.

  “Look at that,” he said, pointing to the library as they walked slowly through the park, cups in hand.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said. “It’s been forever since I’ve been in there. I had a tutor named Holly who convinced my mother to let us go to the library to study several days a week. We would spend all day on the Internet there, just goofing around. I loved that. She was the only tutor I had who wasn’t afraid of my mother. She was just here for the ski season, though.” She stared at the library’s arches while she spoke, but then she turned to him with a smile. “I was home-schooled.”

  “I know. Your neighbor Mrs. Ferguson told me.”

  She tucked her chin into the collar of her coat. “I get the feeling you’ve heard a lot about me.”

  He leaned in closer to her, nudging her playfully. “That’s because you’re the daughter of the late, great Marco Cirrini.”

  She lifted her chin out of her coat. “But who are you, Adam Boswell? Even your coworkers don’t know much about you. I think they wanted me to give them some sort of inside information. But I didn’t have anything to tell. Or anything I thought you’d want me to tell.”

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Josey,” he said. “Just ask.”

  She hesitated. “Listen, if tonight was just about needing a date for a function, I understand. This doesn’t have to be anything serious. That night in the snow, thank you for sharing what you did. But you don’t have to tell me anything else.”

  “So that’s what this is all about,” he said, and he
could have laughed at how relieved he was. “Josey, I didn’t just need a date for a function. I wanted a date with you. You. Just ask.”

  She hesitated. “I think I’ve lost my train of thought.”

  “Okay, so I’ll tell you.” He told her about growing up in California and about his competitive skiing days when he was a teenager. He told her about how he ended up here after hearing about Bald Slope’s steep runs. How he hadn’t talked to the friends he’d gone skiing with since the accident. How he got the job at the post office. He told her about his brother Brett, that they had different fathers. He told her about his relationship with his brother, that he called every week telling him to come back to Chicago.

  “But you don’t have any plans to leave,” Josey said.

  “You’ve brought that up before. Why? Do you want to leave?” he asked, just joking. He was completely blindsided by her answer.

  “I want to leave so badly I can’t stand it sometimes,” she said vehemently. “Too many people, particularly the people in my mother’s social circle, see me the way I was as a child. There are too many stories floating around. Ones I’m sure you’ve heard.”

  Adam stopped under the light of an old-fashioned streetlamp and threw away their coffee cups. “What would you do if you left?” he said, staring down at her, something almost like panic in his chest.

  “I’d go everywhere, see everything I could.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “Sometimes it seems like I’m just waiting for her to say she’s finally forgiven me for all the things I did, waiting for her to say, You can go now. Go live your life.”

  “You don’t need anyone’s permission, Josey. You could do it. I can see you doing it. You have the rest of your life in front of you, wide open. I can’t even explain how that makes me feel. It makes my chest hurt. I want to take some of what you have and eat it. I want to feel that way again.”

  “Do you?” she asked. “Do you really?”

  The moon spun a spiderweb of light around her hair. He took a step toward her. “Yes, I do.” He bent slowly, stopping several times along the way to gauge her reaction.