by Lisa Jordan
Josie’s breath caught in her windpipe. She pressed a palm to her chest. She looked at him, waiting to see if he had anything else to say.
Just say them—three little words.
After a minute of him watching her with that hopeful expression on his face, she guessed he was waiting for an answer without adding anything else.
What about love?
He hadn’t said he loved her. She loved him. But she wouldn’t commit to a man who couldn’t love her back. She’d rather spend the rest of her life as a single mother than end up divorced like her dad.
Nick talked about helping her with the shop and being there for Hannah, but what about her? How did he feel about her? She wanted him to love her. Not just for Hannah or for old time’s sake, but the new and improved Josie.
This wasn’t about her at all. This was about him needing to save everyone, fixing their problems.
*
He was so sure she would have said yes. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have blurted out the proposal like that. What did he say that had her snagging Hannah and darting to her car like a rabbit being pursued by a fox?
He should have kept his big mouth shut. Then he wouldn’t be sitting on the end of the dock with his daughter’s barrage of questions echoing in his ears because her mother was too much of a coward to face what she was really feeling.
She didn’t say no.
In fact, Josie said nothing.
She helped Hannah shove her toys in the bucket and left, leaving behind the kite and the lunch he had packed. Hannah’s bewildered expression was imprinted in his head. Now he looked like a jerk to his daughter, too. What had Josie told her? Probably not the truth.
Or maybe she did. That would cause a rift between father and daughter. Was that Josie’s plan all along—once she didn’t need him for the transplant, get his daughter to turn her back on him, too? Josie wasn’t like that.
She was scared. He saw it in the deer in the headlights look she gave him.
Nick gripped the edge of the dock, not caring about the splinters that speared his fingers. Pain clawed his chest, begging to be released.
The wind picked up, ruffling his hair. Clouds bullied away the sunshine. The bluish-gray water lapping at the buoys separating the beach from the boating area slid into a metallic silver-black. Gulls screeched overhead.
Across the lake, spindly pines shouldered skeletal trunks. Their budding limbs stretched out spiny talons, beckoning in the gusts that scalloped the water’s surface.
Nick felt like a kite that had been dropped in a down wind. He pulled out the velvet box and tossed it back and forth in his hands. He had spent an hour looking at rings until he’d found the one, knowing it would look perfect on Josie’s finger. If she said yes.
Which she hadn’t.
But a tiny strain of hope tugged on a corner of his heart—she didn’t say no, either.
Pushing to his feet, he trudged across the dock. A gust of wind sent Hannah’s kite careening across the sand. Raindrops bulleted the water.
He picked up his pace. The kite and basket were going to get wet.
Destroyed.
Like his hope of a family with Josie and Hannah.
Nick jogged through the rain and snatched the kite before it could trip across the sand again.
One of the butterfly wings separated from the support. The tail ripped. The kite could be repaired, but it would be scarred. Like his heart.
Did God even care?
Shoving the kite under his arm, he gathered the blanket, the soaking wet remains of the picnic, and dropped the mess in his truck’s trunk.
Chapter Seventeen
Josie wanted a clone—someone who could do her job as well as she did so she could stay in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin while she watched mind-numbing reality TV for at least a week.
She added more flour to the board and kneaded the smooth, warm dough until her muscles ached. The scent of yeast took her back to when she was Hannah’s age and watching Nonna make bread when Nonno managed to annoy her. Some weeks Nonna made a lot of bread. But she and Nonno always made up with a kiss.
She wiped her cheek on her shoulder, erasing the memory, and glanced at her bare left hand.
Nick had a ring.
And apparently planned the whole crazy proposal thing. Maybe even set Hannah up to ask if they were going to get married. What had he been thinking?
Every time she closed her eyes, the look on Nick’s face when she didn’t give him an answer to his proposal swam into view.
She grabbed the greased loaf pans and smacked them on the counter next to her bread board, disturbing a puff of flour.
“Mercy, somebody’s got her fireballs all lit up with no place to throw ’em.” Agnes carried an airpot into the kitchen and set it next to the coffee makers.
“Don’t start with me.” Josie cut the dough, shaped it into loaves and dropped them in the pans.
“Hey, I ain’t lookin’ to lock horns with you.” Agnes streamed dark roast into one of the airpots, unleashing its rich scent.
Josie breathed deeply, filling her lungs. Every pore in her body begged for the indulgence. Oh, how she craved to pour a cup, wrap her hands around the mug, savor its warmth and sip. But then she’d spend the rest of the day in bed with a migraine to keep her company and a bucket nearby. Needing to care for Hannah trumped her own desires.
Agnes carried the full pot back to the dining room. After one final deep breath, Josie covered the bread pans with a towel and washed her hands.
She scrubbed the flour and bits of dough off the counter and sanitized it, then picked up a piece of paper to see what was next on her baking to-do list.
Agnes poked her head into the kitchen. “So how much longer you going to hole up in here?”
“I have work to do.” Josie filled the sink with hot, sudsy water.
“You’ve been stomping around back here like someone stole your best biscuit recipe. And you haven’t set foot in that dining room since you snuck in the back door this morning.”
Josie whirled around, bubbles clinging to her hands. “Are you complaining about being worked too hard, Agnes?”
“This isn’t about me, Sugar Pie, so don’t get your knickers
in a twist.” Agnes flounced through the door, giving Josie that “I’m not leaving until you tell me” look. “What’s going on with you?”
Josie exhaled, gripped the edge of the sink, locking her elbows. “Yesterday…Nick proposed.”
“Well, ain’t that a kicker. And that just sticks in your craw?”
“He doesn’t love me. He talked about being there for Hannah, helping me with the shop, blah, blah, blah…but he didn’t say anything about loving me.” Josie caught her reflection in the curve of the faucet. Her frown appeared to be half a mile long. And that was how she felt. Distorted.
“Sugar Pie, that cowboy’s been tryin’ to tie his horse to your hitching post since he came to town.” Agnes pushed away from the counter and moved to the sink. She tucked a loose curl behind Josie’s ear. “He’s been showing it every day since he rode into town. You’re not listening with your heart.”
Josie’s stomach twisted, remembering the way Nick had reorganized her kitchen while the storeroom was being repaired. She remembered his gentle way of consoling Hannah after she overheard their argument. The way he kissed her. But it wasn’t enough. “I want the words, Aggie. Is that too much to ask? I want to be swept off my feet. And I won’t settle—even if it means staying single for the rest of my life.”
*
Lime-green and bright pink balloons bobbed against the ceiling, their curling ribbon tails swaying with Justin Beiber’s crooning from Josie’s docked iPod.
Hannah and four of her friends huddled on the living room floor around an American Girl magazine. Glancing up and spotting Josie watching them, Hannah widened her eyes and jerked her head toward the kitchen.
Okay, so maybe she was hovering. Just a little.
Swallowing a sigh, Josie hea
ded for the kitchen as the oven timer dinged. She gloved her hands and lifted homemade pizzas out of the oven, setting the round baking stones on wicker mats. Bubbles of cheese puffed across the top, then popped.
She cut both pizzas and carried them to the dining room table. Her grandmother’s crocheted tablecloth had been replaced with a lime-green plastic cloth printed with hot-pink hibiscus flowers. Raffia skirted the table.
Grace ladled tropical punch into plastic coconut-shaped cups. Her dad inserted colored straws and fruit kebabs speared with colorful paper umbrellas before setting them on the table. Lindsey held leis Hannah and Josie had made for each of the girls.
Josie fisted her gloved hands on her hips and surveyed the table. “We’re missing something.” She wanted this to be the perfect party for Hannah. Her daughter deserved it. And she prayed it wouldn’t be her last. She wasn’t going there today.
Grace filled the last cup and handed it to Josie’s dad. “The girls?”
Josie smiled. “Can’t have a party without them.” She walked to the doorway and called into the living room. “Okay, girls, pizza’s ready.”
Her dad plopped a ratty straw hat on his head, spread his arms out wide and greeted the girls in his best island native voice, “Welcome to the island, mon.”
Josie nudged him. “Wrong island, Dad.”
The girls covered their mouths and giggled as Lindsey placed the leis around their necks. An inflatable coconut tree swayed in an imaginary breeze as the girls skipped past and found their seats. They chattered like myna birds, oohing and aahing over the decorations.
Josie retrieved the docked iPod, plugged it in behind the buffet, then scrolled to the island music she and Hannah picked out. Strumming ukuleles and gourd drums played in the background.
Grace and Lindsey moved their hands and hips in time to the music. Their impromptu hula generated applause from their audience.
Even though the thermometer hadn’t budged past fifty, all three women dressed alike in tank tops and floral-printed sarongs tied at their hips. Josie had worn a long-sleeved, button-down white shirt over her pink tank top and knotted it at the waist. She dug around in her closet for last summer’s flip-flops and glued on some of the leftover silk flowers she and Hannah had used to make the leis.
Josie caught Hannah’s attention and winked. Hannah’s smile reinforced Josie’s decision about letting her have the party. Her daughter was happy. That was the important thing. The girls turned their attention more to each other and the pizza than the goofy grown-ups.
Her dad whispered something in Grace’s ear. Pink tinted her cheeks, and she gave him a playful smack on the chest. He waggled his eyebrows in response.
Josie turned away. Not because their playfulness embarrassed her, but because she was afraid of releasing the sigh whispering in her heart. She returned to the kitchen. Lindsey leaned against the counter, munching on a cookie. “Okay, so you definitely win the Mom of the Year award. Very cool party, Josie.”
“Thanks, I just want Hannah to have a great time. She’s been looking forward to this all week.” Josie nudged Lindsey aside and reached for the covered circular cake carrier. She removed the lid and inserted ten lime-green candles into a hot-pink frosted flip-flop-shaped birthday cake.
“You have yummy food, cool tunes—for them, anyway—
and lots of activities planned.” Lindsey peered over Josie’s shoulder. “And with that cake, you’re definitely Cool Mom.”
“Hannah and I are ready for some sunshine. A luau-themed party was the way to go for us.” She swiped a stray blob of frosting off the tray and stuck it in her mouth, her taste buds dancing as the sweetness melted on her tongue. “Warn me if I’m hovering too much.”
“This is good for Hannah. And for you, too.”
“She was a mess a couple of weeks ago when she didn’t go to Ashley’s birthday party. That’s when I told her she could have one of her own. And then I’ve been a freak about germs. What if one of them has a cold or something?”
Lindsey gripped Josie’s shoulders. “Relax. It’s going to work out.”
“You’re right. I’m worrying for nothing.” Josie set the cake on the island and craned her neck to see if the girls needed anything. Grace refilled punch cups and served more pizza. Josie noticed Hannah had barely touched hers. No cause for alarm. Yet. “Hey, are you still okay with giving the girls pedicures later? The nail polish smell won’t make you sick?”
“I’ll be fine.” Lindsey pulled the clear wrap off the dessert plates, grabbed plastic forks and set both on the wicker serving tray next to the cake. “I’m surprised you let Hannah get her ears pierced.”
“If you think I’m bad now, you should’ve seen me at the mall. I asked the girl about a hundred times if her gun was sterile. And Hannah didn’t even flinch.” Josie dug through the drawer for her cake server and grabbed an ice cream scoop.
“Considering the pokes and pricks she’s had in the last six months, I’m not surprised.”
“I splurged on the diamonds. Every girl deserves diamonds, especially one who’s gone through what Hannah has.”
“The wig looks adorable on her.”
“I owe Natalie big time for that. Her wig-maker friend worked double duty to get it done on time. They sewed in a soft liner so it’s not as itchy. Hannah feels a lot more confident now, especially around her friends.”
As if to punctuate that statement, Hannah’s giggles wafted into the kitchen, sweetening Josie’s heart like cake frosting. She blinked several times to hold back the moisture building behind her eyes.
Lindsey looped an arm around Josie’s shoulders and gave her a side hug. “You’re a great mom.”
She rested her head on her stepsister’s shoulder. “So are you. Hope Ty wasn’t disappointed he couldn’t come to the party.”
“Are you kidding? He still thinks girls have cooties. I hope he stays that way for a long time. He’s fine with waiting until Sunday when we have the family get-together. You don’t think two parties will be too much for Hannah?”
“I’ll just make sure she takes it easy tomorrow.”
Grace carried the empty pizza stone into the kitchen and set it on the stove. “Ready for round two. I had forgotten how much food a houseful of girls could go through. I remember Lindsey’s sleepovers.”
“Thanks for helping out tonight, you two.”
“I’d do anything for my girls. You know that.” Grace hugged Josie, which brought tears to her eyes. Marrying Grace was the best decision her father had made. Grace went out of her way to include Josie and Hannah in her family. And Josie loved having a sister for the first time in her life.
Someone rapped on the back door. Josie looked over Grace’s shoulder as Nick poked his head inside the door. “Can I come in?”
“Nick. Hi.” Josie’s heart ricocheted against her rib cage. She hadn’t really seen him since the disastrous proposal last weekend. He’d tutored Hannah at her house, but had left as soon as Josie came home. Their conversations had been limited to overly polite comments regarding their daughter and nothing more. She missed him.
Nick stepped inside the kitchen, carrying a large square package wrapped in funky flowered paper and crowned with a loopy purple bow. “I probably should’ve waited until Sunday, but figured I’d drop this off today in case Hannah wanted it early.”
Josie pointed toward the living room. “Have a seat in the living room. The girls are just about done eating. Hannah can open her presents in a couple of minutes.”
“If you’re sure.”
No, she wasn’t sure. Every time Nick was around, his smile chipped away at the wall around her heart. Seeing him with Hannah made her yearn for what would never be. And now she felt as awkward as a seventh grader talking to the cute boy at the school dance.
She nodded.
Nick slipped off his loafers and strode through the kitchen into the living room.
As soon as he was out of sight, Josie released a breath. “Could that have been
any more awkward?”
Grace squeezed her shoulder. “Give it time, honey. Things will be back to normal soon.”
“I’m not even sure what normal is anymore. Nick and I haven’t been normal since the moment he set foot in the shop.” Sighing, Josie herded the girls from the dining room into the living room. She grabbed her camera off the stairs landing and waved for Grace and Lindsey and her father to join them in the living room. Just in time to hear Hannah squeal.
Surrounded by colorful gift bags, Hannah sat Indian-style on the carpet with torn wrapping paper and a box lid by her side. She held something rectangular with a pink cover. “Mom, Dad bought me an iPad! Isn’t that, like, the coolest thing ever? I can listen to music, watch movies and even read books on it. And I won’t be so bored in the hospital.”
“Sweetie, that’s fantastic.” She hoped she mustered enough enthusiasm.
“And look what else? He found the bunny from The Velveteen Rabbit. And I have Birthday Celebration lotion and lip balm.” Hannah held up each item, then dropped them back in the box at her feet. She jumped up to hug Nick. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”
Lindsey leaned over and whispered in Josie’s ear. “I thought you were going to buy Hannah an e-reader.”
“I did.” She thought of the rectangular box hiding in her desk drawer at work.
“I’m sorry.” Lindsey squeezed her shoulder.
“I can return it and get her something else.” She wouldn’t think about the hours she spent searching for Hannah’s favorite authors and preloading the books. She’d try to find time tomorrow to come up with something else for Hannah.
“Mom, smell.” Hannah stuck a bottle of lotion under Josie’s nose. “It really does smell like cake and ice cream.”
“Isn’t he so thoughtful.” Josie smiled, but inside she wrestled with the flaming tail of the green-eyed monster uncurling in her stomach. Parenting wasn’t a competition, but why did Nick get to come in and be Cool Dad?
She’d practically begged Nick not to buy expensive gifts for Hannah. And, of course, he didn’t listen. Nick did exactly what he wanted.
Nick frowned at Josie’s words, but she looked away. “Excuse me. I need to check something in the kitchen.”
