Forever This Time

by Maggie McGinnis

  “I’ll help, Ike. What time can you be here?”

  “Well, garage opens at seven, and I got a big engine rebuild I gotta do in the morning. How’s six o’clock sound?”

  “A.M.?” She winced.

  Ike chuckled. “Family businesses got different hours from city-girl businesses, honey.”

  “Six it is. I’ll bring the coffee.” Josie squeezed her eyes shut as she hung up the desk phone.

  “I’ll take cream and sugar with mine.” Ethan’s voice made her jump.

  “I’m not fixing your coffee.” She shuffled papers into alignment, then pushed them to a different spot on the desk. Dammit. She’d been hoping to disappear before he got back to the office. Two could play this game.

  “Who were you talking to?” Ethan walked past her and sat down at his desk, leaning back with his hands casually behind his head.

  “Ike. He’ll be here at six tomorrow morning with a load of ice.”

  “Really?” Ethan stayed relaxed, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. “And you’re going to unload it?”

  “Unless you want to.”

  “It’s all yours.” He shook his head. “And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’m down an elf tomorrow. Remember how to walk in curly shoes?”

  “You don’t need another elf.” You just want me out of your office.

  “Not true.”

  “We have plenty of elves. Speaking of which, there’s one who has to be pushing a hundred and twenty. Why is Dad still making her do the elf thing?”

  “That’d be Ruthie, and your dad’s not making her do anything. She loves her job. Says it keeps her young.”

  Josie shook her head. “It’s too hot out there for someone her age.”

  “She’ll stop when she’s ready. She likes it, and the kids love her.” He leaned back in his chair, arms returning to their spot behind his head. “So how’d it feel to be back in the office today?”

  “Cooler than walking around as Sno-Cone Sally.” Josie straightened the papers on Dad’s desk, then lined them up again. “It was fine.” But only because you weren’t in here tormenting me with that after-shave … and those eyes.

  “Anything else I need to know before you go? Arrange for any other deliveries without my—”

  “Permission? I was only trying to help, Ethan.”

  “I was going to say advice. But that’s fine.” He rocked the front legs of his chair back down. “Have fun with that ice delivery in the morning.”

  Really? That was it? He was going to just sail in here, put her in her proverbial place, and dismiss her? Like he hadn’t kissed her silly twenty-four hours ago?

  Yes, she was the one who’d spouted the No kissing rule this morning, but dammit, he didn’t even look like he cared. He’d avoided her all day, and now he was just itching for her to get out of the office. She gathered her purse, fumbling with the straps as she headed for the door.

  Fine. Tomorrow she’d show him all of the stuff she’d done today. Tomorrow she’d play it as cool as him. Tomorrow she’d try not to give a damn if he disappeared for the whole flipping day.

  She squared her shoulders. “Good night, Ethan.”

  He gave an absent wave. “Night, Josie.”

  Five minutes later, Josie sat in her Jeep, half relieved to be out of Ethan’s orbit, half annoyed that she’d felt the need to escape. Her stomach growled and she realized she had forgotten to eat lunch earlier. And maybe breakfast. She needed to find some real food before she headed to the hospital, and Mom’s selection of yogurt wasn’t going to do the trick.

  She plugged the key into the ignition and turned it, but all she heard was a click. Tried again, and click.

  She dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel, swearing silently. The mechanic at the garage in Boston had warned her five thousand miles ago that her ignition was going, but she so seldom drove the Jeep that she’d kind of forgotten about it.

  She turned the key back to the left and counted to twenty, then twisted it again.

  Click.

  There was only one other vehicle in the parking lot—a dark green truck that had to be Ethan’s. Mom was at the hospital, Ben was … who knows where, and Josie felt a growing pain in her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger.

  She was alone. Really alone. There was no one she could call for help in this town.

  “You forget how to get home?” Ethan’s voice made her jump. She turned toward him, hating the way her insides went all quivery at the sound of his voice. His eyes were crinkling in amusement as he gave her a quick once-over. “You okay?”

  “My car won’t start.”

  “Need a jump?”

  Good God, why did everything the man said sound like a sexual innuendo?

  Did it, actually? Or was she just superimposing innuendo on his perfectly innocent question?

  “No. The battery’s fine. Something’s wrong with the ignition switch. I’ll just call Ike.” Right. Ike! He’d help her, wouldn’t he?

  “He won’t answer after five.”

  Josie wracked her brain. Ike was the only mechanic she knew. “Is there any other garage in town that might be open?”

  “Nope. Sorry.”

  Josie blew out a frustrated breath. Ten years later, the entire flipping town still shut down at sunset. She was stuck, and Ethan knew it.

  And, by all observations, was kind of enjoying it.

  “I hate to ask, but is there any chance you could give me a ride out to my parents’ house? Or maybe over to the hospital?” She pointed up the mountain. “I probably shouldn’t sleep here. The bears are starting to fatten up for winter.”

  “It’s August.”

  “We could have some early planners.” She waved vaguely at the open sides of her Jeep. “And I have no doors.”

  Ethan shook his head, looking around the empty parking lot. “Have you eaten today?”

  “Not really.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Starving. “I could eat.”

  “I was going to stop at Bellinis for a burger. Want to join me?”

  Josie’s mouth watered at the thought of Mama B’s burgers, but this was obviously a pity invite.

  “You know, I’m actually fine. I’ll call Mom and see if she can come get me.”

  Ethan shook his head. “Are you that afraid to see Molly?”

  “No. Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t about—Molly.”

  Right.

  “Does she still work with her parents at Bellinis?” She tried to keep the question light and breezy.

  “Among … other things, yep. Still here.”

  “And you don’t think it’d be awkward to show up there tonight? With me?”

  “Not for me. I’ve got the sympathy vote, remember? You’re the one who left.”

  He was right, of course. As far as anyone in town knew, he was the innocent groom dumped practically at the altar. It was she who’d need to brace for flying tomatoes if she walked into Echo Lake’s busiest pub.

  “So what’ll it be?” He started to turn toward his truck. “Is a Bellini burger worth the pain of being with me for an hour?”

  “It’s not painful—” She growled internally. It was totally painful. Just not in the way he meant. But she was sort of out of options here. It wouldn’t be fair to drag Mom away from the hospital.

  She grabbed her purse and slid out of the Jeep, following him across the parking lot. “If you’re sure…”

  He slung his workout bag and sneakers into the truck bed, then opened the passenger door for her. “I’d hate to try to explain a bear-mauling to your father, that’s all.”

  He closed her door and walked around the front of the truck. When he slid into the driver’s seat, Josie had a flashback of the hundreds of times he’d done that when they were dating. Back then, he’d always lean toward her for a kiss before he put the key in the ignition, but tonight he just slung the seat belt across his body as he started the truck.

  Did he even remember
their old ritual?

  Ten minutes later, they were seated on vinyl stools at the pub’s counter. She plucked a menu from between the metal napkin holder and the Parmesan cheese shaker. “Please tell me the Bellini Burger hasn’t changed.”

  “Not much has, Josie.” His words fell like little shards of granite.

  She looked toward the booth in the corner where the two of them had shared French fries, milkshakes, and lots of smoldering looks, and felt herself bite her lip. Ethan’d headed right for the counter stools when they came in, but maybe that’s just where he liked to sit these days. Maybe he wasn’t actually sending her a message with his seating choice.

  He definitely was.

  She looked down at the menu, and it was as if time had stood still here at Bellinis. Fish-and-chips on Tuesdays, spaghetti specials on Wednesdays, beef stew on Thursdays. Hunting season specials were still listed on the back.

  “Are you trying hard not to say something about how the menu hasn’t been updated since Noah built the ark?” Ethan leaned subtly her way.

  Josie looked at him, feeling her cheeks color, but he kept his stare on the television. “Of course not.”

  “Right.”

  Before she could come up with a retort, the swinging door to the kitchen blasted open, and Molly came through with three towering plates. Josie had just a couple of seconds to take in her flaming red hair and green eyes before her view was blocked by the pile of plates. Apparently Molly didn’t see her, either.

  “Hey, Eth. I’ll be right with you.” Molly started toward a couple at the other end of the bar, but stutter-stepped when she spotted Josie. “Oh!” Her lips formed a startled circle, then a thin line as she delivered the steaming plates and handed ketchup and silverware over the bar. She stopped three times along the way back toward Josie and Ethan, ostensibly checking on guests, but Josie suspected she was stalling.

  Finally she made her way back to their end of the bar. “Ethan. Josie. What can I get you?” Josie saw her step backward as she raised her order pad, and felt guilty for making her feel defensive. Her voice was frosty. Like, penguins-in-Antarctica frosty.

  “Hi, Molly.”

  Molly sent her eyebrows upward, like she couldn’t believe Josie had dared address her in public.

  Josie looked back at the menu, trying to make her hands stop shaking. “I’ll just have a burger, please. With fries. Thank you. And pickles, if it’s okay.” Josie knew her voice sounded stiff and formal, but she couldn’t help it. She had no idea how to speak to Molly anymore.

  “Same for me, Mols.” Ethan smiled almost apologetically. Josie’d be willing to bet he’d get an earful from Molly once Josie was elsewhere.

  “Two burgers! Fries! Side of pickles on number two!” Molly hollered into the kitchen as she pushed through the swinging door, letting it whack the wall as she did so.

  Josie propped her arms on the bar, hiding her trembling hands. “Did she say side of hemlock?” She looked around the pub, taking in the same dark-paneled walls, the red vinyl booths in the back, the bulletin board near the door, full of index cards and eight-by-ten handwritten announcements.

  One of the papers advertised a benefit dance at the Grange hall this Friday night for Teddy and Grace. As she looked at the crude handwriting, it struck her that most of the people who passed through the front door of Bellinis not only knew Teddy and Grace, but knew why they needed help. Sure wouldn’t see that in her Boston neighborhood.

  She turned back toward Ethan. “So do you still hate pickles?”

  “Still ask inane questions when you’re nervous?”

  “I’m not nerv—Fine. I’m nervous. Sue me.”

  He smiled, eyes still on the TV. “Yes, I still hate pickles.”

  “How about raspberries?”

  “Them, too.”

  “Math?”

  “I’m in charge of your dad’s park finances. You’d better hope not.”

  “Good point.”

  Ethan turned toward her—reluctantly, it seemed. “Do I get to ask some?”

  “Sure. Fire away. Just no hard ones.”

  “Why counseling?”

  “I start with pickles and you start with my career choice?”

  He nodded, eyebrows playful. “I don’t want to waste my questions.”

  Josie looked down at the napkin she’d inadvertently started stripping into pieces. “I guess it just seemed … right. Given … everything.”

  “So you focus on kids?”

  “More the families of the kids. Moms, mostly.”

  “Why not kids?” Ethan’s eyes met hers, and for a moment Josie felt like they were orbiting in the same universe again.

  Then she broke his gaze.

  Because kids … kids kill me inside, that’s why.

  She shook her head. “You—um—jumped your question. It’s my turn. Tell me one thing that’s really changed in town.”

  “There’s a new drugstore on the corner of Main Street where the old creamery was.”

  “Not buildings. Tell me something real that’s changed.”

  There was a long pause as his eyes searched hers. “What answer are you hoping to hear, Josie?”

  Then he sighed as he turned back toward the television over the bar.

  “What if nothing really has?”

  Chapter 18

  At practically dawn the next morning, Ike’s ice truck chugged into the parking lot and through the service gate, stopping at the shed with the big walk-in freezers. Josie had the shed doors open already, but the only reason her eyes were open this early was because she’d had to unearth her old bike at dawn, find a pump for the flat tires, and then pedal the five miles to Snowflake Village. After an awkward burger at Bellinis last night, Ethan had dropped her off at her parents’ house with a quick wave and a See ya tomorrow.

  She hadn’t slept.

  “Mornin’, Sunshine!” Ike hopped down from the cab, his springy step belying his seventy-five years as he wrapped her in a bear hug that threatened to cut off an airway or two. “It is some good to see you, girl!”

  “You too, Ike. Thanks for coming out this early.”

  Josie held out a coffee mug full of dark brew from Ethan’s Keurig. She figured if he wasn’t going to help with the ice, he could at least provide the coffee.

  “Want some coffee?”

  Ike took it. “You betcha.” He took a swig, then set the mug on the stone wall and opened the back doors of the truck, hopping in like a much younger man. “So how’s your dad doing?”

  Josie set down her mug as well, then turned to catch the first bag of ice Ike threw down, stacking it on a handcart she’d dragged out from the shed. “He’s—” How was he, really? “I don’t know, Ike. He’s taking his sweet time waking up. It’s—scary.”

  “Well, these things can take time. Anybody tell you about my sister?”

  “I don’t think so.” She pulled the ice into the shed and stacked the bags into the walk-in freezer, then came back out for more. “Is she okay?”

  “Is now. Had herself a stroke, too. Took her sweet time, too, just like your dad. But one day, she opens up her eyes and says, What’s everybody fussin’ about?”

  “Seriously?” Josie hauled another load into the freezer.

  “Dead serious.”

  “And she really was okay?”

  “Yep. That was six years ago. Last I talked to her, she was heading out dancing—said not to call her too early in case she had too many martinis.” He shook his head. “Think we’ll get this all unloaded before the park opens?”

  “How much did you bring?”

  “Five hundred bags.”

  Josie felt her eyes go wide. “Five hundred?” On the hottest day of the year, they probably used two hundred, absolute tops. Or at least they used to. But she couldn’t very well say that, not after he’d gotten up at the crack of dawn and loaded his truck full of ice for her.

  “That’s what fits in the truck. And I figured if you called, you must be in pretty dire
straits.”

  Josie wiped her sleeve across her forehead. “I’m pretty sure five hundred will get us through till at least noon, Ike.”

  An hour later, Josie grunted as she tossed the last bag to the top of the freezer. The temperature outside had risen at least fifteen degrees already, and alternating between the freezer and the sizzling pavement was making her dizzy. She could tell her hair was rocking some serious frizz, and her polo shirt was sticking to her in all the wrong places. She wondered if she had time to run home for a shower … then remembered she’d have to do it on her bike.

  Never mind.

  She locked the freezer door and went outside once again, only to find Ethan leaning on the ice truck talking with Ike, a funny smile on his face.

  She picked up her coffee, now lukewarm. “Well, good morning, Ethan. Your timing is exquisite.”

  The tiny dimple in his right cheek made an appearance as he looked her up and down. Great. She must look even more frightful than she imagined.

  “Nice work,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I get time and a half for this, right?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll pay you double what you’re currently making.”

  Ike stepped toward Ethan, scratching his pen on a metal clipboard. He ripped off the invoice and handed it to him with a smile. “Appreciate your business. Nice to have a chance to come by.”

  “Thanks, Ike. Good to see you again.”

  Josie felt her eyebrows draw together. “Why are you two talking like you never see each other?”

  “Well, we don’t as much anymore.” Ike cocked his head. “Not since Ethan finally convinced your dad to get one of them industrial ice-makers. Which was fine with me, because these old bones don’t agree so much with crack-of-dawn deliveries anymore.”

  Ike looked at Ethan. “You got someone coming out to fix it?”

  Ethan pressed his lips together, but Josie could see the corners creeping up. “It’s not broken, actually.”

  Ike put his hands on his hips. “Then why in tarnation am I out here at six o’clock in the morning bringing you a load of five hundred bags of ice?”

  “You brought five hundred bags?”

  “That’s what the truck holds.” Ike looked completely mystified, but Josie felt steam building behind her eyes.