Hello Love

by McQuestion, Karen

  He had behaved horribly during their divorce, but he was right on that count. As far as she knew, he’d divided their possessions fairly. Besides the ring, there was nothing she owned or wanted that hadn’t come with her to the condo. The Jaguar was his most prized possession. In his mind, everything else could be replaced. She sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at noon at the coffee shop,” she said. Then, realizing her tone was antagonistic, added, “Thank you.”

  “Oh, and you might want to leave the dog at the office,” he said. “For some reason she doesn’t like me.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that.” Andrea looked down at Anni’s adoring upturned face, her deep-pooled eyes, smooth snout, and panting tongue. “She doesn’t seem to like you at all.”

  Marco exhaled audibly. “Okay then, Andrea. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” Andrea said. “At noon. Don’t forget the ring.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  When the friendly barista delivered the coffee to his table in a real mug, it struck Dan as a nice way to do business. “Here you are, sir,” she said with a smile. “Enjoy!”

  “Thanks,” he said. What a change from Starbucks, where you stood and waited for your drink and it came in a disposable cup with writing on the side. This place was much smaller, homier. More like the coffee shops of the 1960s, where the coffee was secondary to the soups, sandwiches, and baked goods. Everyone seemed to know Joan, the woman behind the counter, and she was quick to greet them by name, rattling off their usual order. The Café Mocha. That was the name of the place. He’d have to remember it and come again, although he didn’t get to this side of the city very often. He wouldn’t even be here now if he weren’t trying to kill time before an appointment. He’d arrived way too early, always a bad habit of his, one that could be problematic when it caught people off guard.

  Today his meeting was with the head of a midwestern grocery chain that owned thirty-seven stores in Wisconsin, Ohio, Michigan, and Minnesota. If the meeting at their corporate office went well, the stores would be stocking his company’s beer in the near future. He’d talked to the CEO on the phone, and it seemed like a lock, but he’d brought samples in the cooler in his truck to seal the deal.

  Arriving too early would make him seem needy, so Dan had driven around for a while, weighing his options; when he saw the coffee shop, he pulled over, getting a space right in front, luckily enough. There were worse places to kill half an hour. He had his phone and could people watch. Before he knew it, the thirty minutes would be up.

  It was late morning and the lunch crowd was starting to drift in. A few college kids who looked to be just a bit older than Lindsay jostled each other on their way up to the counter. Joan kidded with them about keeping the noise down or she’d fine them for being rowdy. A senior citizen couple sat stone-faced across from each other, eating chicken noodle soup, the kind with fat noodles and chunks of carrots. Another couple, a man and woman as elegant and good-looking as supermodels, finished up their drinks and vacated a table by the fireplace. One of the college girls saw the couple prepare to leave, and ran over to hold the table for the rest of her group.

  There was a lot of energy here, the college kids making their way to their table, laughing as they set their backpacks at their feet. A woman walked in with a dog on a leash. The dog, a chocolate lab with his tongue hanging out, led the way to the counter. Joan called out, “Hey, Mavis and Roger, two of my favorites,” and then she leaned over to give the dog a treat. Witnessing the interactions of all the people here lifted his spirits. Maybe Doreen was right and he should get out into the world a little more often.

  Dan took a sip of his coffee, his eyes on the door, watching as people arrived out of the cold, stomping the snow off their boots, using their teeth to pull off their gloves. Each one following a universal pattern, all the while thinking they were unique. When a woman walked in wearing a camel-colored coat, her eyes sweeping the place in search of someone, he was hit with the impulse to stand and wave her over. The urge was so strong that he had to clamp his arms to his sides to keep from embarrassing himself. He knew her. He watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear, glanced at her phone, and then went up to the counter. “Where’s your sidekick?” Joan asked the woman, and Dan strained to hear the answer.

  “Back at the office today,” the woman said, and then rattled off her order, which he didn’t quite hear.

  His view was of her backside, brown hair falling past her shoulders, a belted coat, a trim purse held at her side. Her voice was familiar and a picture formed in his head of her standing next to a car. The woman from the parking lot at Bodecker’s on Main, the one he’d talked to after leaving Desiree at the table.

  When Joan said, “I’ll have that out for you in a minute, Andrea,” it clinched the matter. Andrea was her name. He tried to remember everything he knew about her. She had a dog, which she had to go home to feed. In the restaurant she’d been sitting with the redhead who knew Desiree. The connection to Desiree, however tenuous, didn’t speak well of her, but in the redhead’s defense, she didn’t seem to like Desiree, which probably was true for Andrea as well. Poor Desiree. Obnoxious and unlikeable. Not having to see her anymore had made Dan think more charitably of her.

  All of the tables were occupied. When Andrea walked through, searching for a spot, Dan couldn’t suppress it any longer. As she came past, he said, “I’m leaving soon, if you want this table.” He’d gotten her attention. She glanced down and saw the empty chair on the other side of the table. “Just give me a few minutes,” he said, holding up his cup of coffee. “And I’ll be gone.”

  She pulled out the chair and sat, her coat still on, the purse swinging off her shoulder. The recognition came a second later when her brown eyes widened in amazement. “Dan?”

  “You remember me?” He was oddly thrilled to hear her say his name.

  “Well, of course.” She grinned. She’d said it as if he were very memorable. “You’re Dan, Dan, the parking lot man. The one who had lunch at Bodecker’s on Main.”

  “Yeah.” He found himself grinning back, his head bobbing in agreement. “That’s exactly right. You have a good memory.”

  She tilted her head toward the window at the front of the shop. “So that’s your truck out there using up two spaces?” Dan glanced at the window and started to apologize, when she gently said, “I’m only kidding. It is a really big truck, though.”

  “I’m not compensating for anything,” he said hurriedly.

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  They grinned at each other, the easy camaraderie of two people who clicked on some unseen level. The silence was fine, until it wasn’t. Dan cleared his throat and said, “I definitely remember you. Even before I saw you in the parking lot, I noticed you eating lunch with your friend at the restaurant. The red-haired woman.”

  “And you were having lunch with Desiree. But it wasn’t a date.” She set her purse under the table by her feet.

  She knew Desiree too, then, and her tone implied a definite dislike. He explained, “Definitely not a date. My aunt thought we should meet. She sort of set the whole thing up. I’m not even sure why, really.”

  “Wow.” Andrea shook her head, an amused look coming over her face. “Does your aunt like you?” She loosened the belt on her coat and began to unbutton the front.

  He chuckled. “I thought she did, but after that lunch I did wonder. How is it that you know Desiree?”

  Andrea sighed, a heavy exhale as if the thought of answering the question made her weary. “It’s a long story and it’s not that interesting. She’s not a friend, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” Dan remembered the red-haired woman dipping down to give Desiree a hard stare and then asking if she was enjoying her lunch date, like she’d caught her in the act. But what exactly that could be, he had not a clue. He took a sip of his coffee and realized he’d dow
ned the last of it. Soon enough he would have to go to his appointment. But he wanted to talk to this woman a little longer. For the first time he’d met a woman who intrigued him, someone who was easy to talk to and definitely easy on the eyes. He knew what Doreen would say. She’d say he should ask her out for coffee or lunch. That it didn’t have to be a date but that he should be out in the world, meeting people, doing things, socializing. But the thing was, they barely knew each other, and he didn’t want to scare this woman off. He cleared his throat again and asked, “Do you work around here?”

  “About a mile away,” she said. “I’m the office manager for McGuire Properties. My boss owns more than a hundred rental properties, most of them residential, and I take care of, well, everything, really. He’s not in the office much.”

  “He’s lucky to have you,” Dan said. There was a long pause where they just sat, quietly looking at each other, both trying to decide what to say next. He was sorely aware of the time limit and was about to ask if she’d want to meet for lunch some other time, because he really had to go, but he was stopped before he even started, because the friendly woman from the front register now stood in front of them, holding a tray of food. She ceremoniously placed a salad and silverware in front of Andrea, as well as a large glass of lemonade.

  “There you go, Andrea,” she said, turning so Dan could see the name tag identifying her as Joan. She set a dog treat next to the plate. “And here’s something for you to take back to your little—”

  “Andrea!” A man’s voice rang out. Behind Joan towered a dark-haired guy, as bulky and wide as a linebacker. “What’s going on? I thought you were meeting me,” he said, giving Dan a hard look. Joan, seeming to sense an awkward situation, scooted around this interloper and made her way back up to the front, allowing herself one last curious glance back as she went.

  Andrea raised her chin. “You’re late.”

  The string of tension between Andrea and this guy was so strong, Dan felt like he could reach out and pluck it. He scrambled to his feet and said, “I was just going.” He grabbed the empty mug so that his side of the table was clear, and gestured. “All yours.” He was referring to the chair, but even as he said it, it occurred to him that it sounded like he meant Andrea.

  “See you later, Dan,” Andrea said, looking up at him almost regretfully. Her lips stayed parted a split second longer like she was going to say something else, but Marco slid into the vacant seat and started blathering about the drive over and getting stopped by a train, so Dan just nodded, took his mug up to the counter, and left for his appointment.

  THIRTY

  Marco always did have terrible timing, Andrea thought, when she spotted him looming over their table, giving poor Dan a death-ray glare. Joan had just delivered Andrea’s lunch and was in the process of presenting her with a dog treat to take back to Anni, which was so like her. Joan had a kind heart and was extremely thoughtful. This would have been the perfect opportunity to talk about Anni and see how Dan felt about dogs, which would be really telling. If he was a dog person, that would have elevated him in her mind. But she never got the chance because Marco had to come lumbering in, the Neanderthal that he was, trapping Joan in front of the table. She’d had to maneuver to extricate herself.

  “What’s going on? I thought you were meeting me,” Marco had said, his tone practically accusatory, like, what was Dan doing with his woman? Which was weird, because the divorce had been his idea, and he’d never been that way, even when they were married.

  Dan didn’t waste any time getting out of there. Who could blame him? She’d only managed to sputter something about talking to him later. And then he was gone. If he was interested, maybe he’d come to the coffee shop some other time. Unlikely, though, given the way Marco had acted. Dan’s backside as he walked out the door was probably the last she’d ever see of him.

  Her attention went back across the table to Marco, who was talking about the difficult drive over. She supposed it was a backhanded apology for being late without having to actually apologize. The story was that he’d had to stop for a train, and then had trouble on the expressway. “They have I-94 down to two eastbound lanes for about three miles. Good Lord, the traffic was unbelievable. I was at a complete stop for fifteen minutes. And then they had the ramp closed. Really inconvenient for me.” He shook his head.

  “Just for you?” Andrea asked, joking.

  “What do you mean?” His face was blank.

  “I mean, it was convenient for everyone else?” He still wasn’t getting it. She tried again. “It was a joke. I was trying to point out that everyone going that way had to deal with it.”

  “Well, yeah, but I don’t care about them. I don’t even know them.”

  “Right.” Andrea didn’t even try to hide her smile. He never understood when she was kidding. This lack of communication had been a hurdle when she was legally bound to Marco. Now it was just ridiculous.

  “So who was that guy you were talking to when I got here?” Marco asked, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

  “Dan,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Dan who?”

  “My friend, Dan. That’s all you need to know,” Andrea said. Knowing Marco, he’d friend Dan on Facebook or figure out they had a mutual friend. Next thing she knew, they’d be golfing or meeting for darts. No, even if she never saw Dan again, there was no way she’d want that asteroid hitting the planet.

  “Okay, have it your way.” He glanced around the coffee shop. “What does a guy have to do to get a cup of coffee around here? She was just here a second ago. Jeez.”

  “You have to go to the counter and order,” Andrea said. “But before you do that, where’s my ring?” She held her hand out, palm up, and raised her eyebrows.

  “I’ll get to that.” Marco gave her a wry smile. “Impatient, much?”

  “Seriously, I want my grandmother’s ring, Marco.” Was he jerking her around? A lump of fury rose in her throat. She shouldn’t have to jump through hoops to get something that belonged to her in the first place. And it wasn’t just any possession; it was a family heirloom.

  “You’ll get it, you’ll get it. I’ve got it right here.” He patted the outside of his jacket. “Just let me get my coffee first.” And off he went, sauntering up to the front like he had all the time in the world. Deliberately infuriating as only Marco could be.

  Andrea watched him up at the counter, laying his charm on Joan. They were both looking in her direction now. Marco smiled and gave her a little wave. He was probably giving Joan the inside scoop on their failed marriage. Meeting him here was a bad idea, but then again, she couldn’t have anticipated running into Dan, and she’d honestly thought Marco would hand over the ring and leave. She should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. Sighing, she picked up her fork and took a stab at her salad. Her other hand rested on her thigh, fiddling with nothing where a leash should have been. It was odd to be here without Anni at her feet. Having the dog nearby always calmed her. Plus, Anni might have growled at Marco, and he’d have given her the ring right then and there. Funny that the only time she showed her teeth was with Marco. She was usually such a gentle, sweet dog.

  When Marco returned to the table, he was all smiles. “That Joan is super nice!” She’d forgotten his habit of using the word “super” as an adjective for everything. “I told her we used to be married and she thought it was great we were still on good terms.” He took a sip of his coffee. He’d gotten a ceramic mug instead of a disposable to-go cup. Obviously, Marco thought they would be visiting for a while. It occurred to her to argue that they weren’t on good terms, but she was tired of playing verbal tug-of-war. She’d only agreed to meet him for one reason.

  “The ring?” She held out her hand again. This time, though, he nodded and pulled the box out of his inside jacket pocket.

  “See, I told you I’d give it to you.”

  Sh
e flipped open the lid and saw the ring pillowed in the middle, exactly as she’d remembered it. What a relief. She’d been planning on going to see her grandmother soon, maybe tomorrow night after work. Would seeing the ring prompt her memory? Unlikely, she knew, but she wanted to try. Andrea reached out and touched the stone, reassuring herself that it was secure in the setting.

  “Put it on,” he urged. “You always did like that thing.”

  Bossy, that’s what Marco was. Always having to manage every situation. Still, she was pleased to finally have the ring in her possession, and it would be easier to keep track of if she were wearing it. Andrea took the ring and slipped it onto her finger. She and her grandmother had the same size hands, petite with slim fingers.

  Marco must have been thinking the same thing, because he said, admiringly, “You always did have skinny fingers. Not too many women could even get it past their knuckle. That’s a really tiny ring.”

  Not too many women could even get it past their knuckle. Andrea had a sudden realization, one she didn’t like. She blurted out the accusation, somehow knowing it was true. “Oh my God, you let Desiree try on the ring.”

  He tilted his head. “What? What are you talking about?” He said it like an actor in a play who’d been unjustly accused. A really bad actor, who wasn’t all that convincing. She’d been married to him long enough to know when he was lying, or trying to deflect, anyway.

  She snapped the case shut. “I can’t believe you let her wear my grandmother’s ring. Have you no sense of decency?”

  “It’s not like she wore it,” Marco said. “I mean, she really couldn’t. It’s like child-size,” he added hastily. “She saw it when I brought it home, and before I could stop her, she picked it up and tried it on. Right away I told her to put it back. She only had it for a second.”

  “I thought the two of you weren’t even together anymore,” Andrea said. “You said that it didn’t work out, that she was a mistake.” He’d also said he wanted to get back together with Andrea, but she didn’t even want to say the words out loud because it might be taken the wrong way and she didn’t want to encourage him. He had no idea who he was dealing with now. She and Marco? Not happening.