by Addison Cole
He cherished those memories.
He picked up his pace when he came to a couple walking hand in hand. When Evan was younger, Caden would fall into bed at night too exhausted to think about being with a woman. But there were times when he’d pass a loving couple whispering to each other, or nuzzling on a park bench, and part of him ached for a lasting, intimate relationship. But they were only flashes of longing for what he’d never allow himself to have, and after a few minutes, the urge would pass and his life would be whole again. Spending time with Bella brought those lonely times to the forefront. He was no longer a kid raising a baby and building a career. He was a man with a teenage son.
A teenage son.
He couldn’t imagine how the time had passed so quickly, and he didn’t want to think about a few years from now, when Evan would be off to college, and shortly thereafter, be the age Caden was when Evan was born. His mind drifted back to Bella, to the look in her eyes when they were talking up in the fire tower and the love he felt radiating from her when they’d kissed. He’d sent her a text when he arrived home last night with the picture of them he’d taken, even though he knew she probably wouldn’t check it until the next time she needed to make a call. He couldn’t help himself. It was a simple text, but he hoped it brought a smile to her beautiful lips.
He ran back down the beach the way he’d come, and when he reached the access road, he ran toward home. He reached up and touched his cell phone in the armband he wore when he ran and wondered what it would be like not to be tethered to it every minute of the day. He’d noticed that Bella and her friends didn’t carry their phones everywhere like most people did. He’d never had the pleasure of feeling so free. He wouldn’t want to. He liked being only a phone call away from Evan—and now from Bella, as well.
The house was quiet when he arrived home. He did a few sets of push-ups and sit-ups in the living room. Still warm from his workout, he filled a glass with ice water and went outside on the deck to cool off. His cell phone vibrated, and Bella’s name appeared on the screen, spurring another quickening of his pulse.
A picture popped up on the screen, and he laughed out loud. Bella was standing in a colorful beach cover-up with her hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Her hands formed the shape of a heart in front of her chest—thumb to thumb, her knuckles bent and pressed together. To her right, Amy held a sign with a red arrow across the top that pointed at Bella. The sign read SHE MIGHT. Beside her Jenna held a sign that read WANT TO, on Jenna’s other side, Leanna held a sign that read DATE YOU.
When he’d sent her the photo of them last night, he’d given it the caption, FUTURE DATERS. He thought it might make her laugh, but this…this made his heart so full he thought he might burst.
He texted back, I like my girlfriends in leather and lace, no boots required, and hoped she’d get the reference to her handyman comment the evening before. He paced the deck as he waited for her response. When it didn’t come right away, he worried that he’d sent the absolute wrong message.
After fifteen minutes, he went inside to take a cold shower and mentally orchestrated an apology. He could drive over and explain face-to-face that it was a joke. The last thing he needed was for her to bring up the whole fetish thing again. He knew she’d been kidding about the fetish stuff, but he also knew he had been out of the real dating realm long enough that he was probably behind the times with what was appropriate and what wasn’t when texting a woman. He probably would have been better off sending a stupid naked selfie. The thought made him cringe—he’d never understand the fascination with sending pictures that anyone could hack into.
He showered and changed, and when he came out of the bedroom, Evan was standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of cargo shorts and a troublesome grin—and staring at Caden’s phone.
“Uh, Dad? I thought you and Bella weren’t dating.”
“We kind of are now. I think.” Caden reached for the phone.
“I’d say you are for sure.” Evan laughed as he poured himself a bowl of cereal.
Caden glanced at the phone. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the fact that he was getting turned on by Bella’s selfie, or knowing his son had just seen his girlfriend wearing nothing but a pink lacy nighty and a pair of knee-high leather boots.
WHEN BELLA HAD taken on the summer project, she’d thought local businesses would jump at the chance to hire high school students. They were cheap labor, they needed to get good grades to graduate, so they were likely to be responsible, and the business owners would be helping the kids to be better prepared for their future. It was with those hopes that she set out that morning to meet with three separate business owners. Her first stop was with Wellfleet Automotive, a company that had not only been on Bella’s list of possibilities because she’d read an interview with the owner in an archive of the Cape Codder newspaper, but also one that was on Wilma’s list. From the article, he seemed down-to-earth, and since he’d gotten his start in the business as a teenager shadowing his father, who had owned two auto shops at the time, Bella hoped he’d be open to the idea of joining the work-study program.
Wellfleet Automotive was located off of Route 6, making it easy for kids to get to whether they were driving, biking, or taking public transportation. The one-story building was built at the bottom of a long, sloped driveway. Bella stepped from her car and smoothed her dress as she assessed the property. A bank of tall trees shaded the parking lot. The temperature was cooler in the shade, which was a welcome relief to the warm morning. The lot was lined two cars deep. That has to be a good sign. They aren’t hurting for business. The building had three bays, two of which were open. Two men were moving about in the center bay, and in the far bay, she saw a pair of jeans-clad legs sticking out from beneath a truck.
Bella walked into the center bay and was surprised when neither the tall, dark-haired man in blue coveralls manipulating a wrench, nor the short stocky man peering beneath the hood of a car, greeted her. When she’d called to make the appointment with the owner, Mr. Healy, he was a little gruff, and since he’d put her on hold three times during their brief conversation, she’d written it off to the call interrupting his busy schedule. Now she wondered if the entire staff was less than friendly.
“Hello?” Bella called to them.
Both men looked up at her, then went back to work.
Nice.
The bay smelled like oil and gasoline and felt ten degrees colder than just outside the door, but that might have been from the creepy vibe of Jay and Silent Bob.
“Excuse me. I’m here to see Mr. Healy.” She walked toward the man with the wrench.
He had a thick middle and jowls that jiggled when he turned. He nodded toward a door to the right.
“Thank you.” Bella was beginning to wonder if she’d made a big mistake.
Inside the waiting area a young couple sitting in vinyl chairs against the far wall glanced up from the magazines they were reading, gave her a quick once-over, then turned their attention back to the magazines. Bella stepped up to the counter and rang the silver bell. Heavy footsteps sounded before she saw the giant man who owned them come through the door, hulking toward her. He had to be six seven or taller, with linebacker shoulders and a square head that reminded her of Lurch from The Addams Family.
He splayed the largest hands Bella had ever seen on the counter. “Help you?”
The combination of Mr. Healy and this being her first time giving her spiel made her stomach knot up. She glanced at the couple, who were still engrossed in catching up on the latest gossip, giving her a second to gather her courage.
“I’m Bella Abbascia, here to see Mr. Healy.”
A smile softened his weathered cheeks and gray eyes. “I’m Healy. Come around the desk and follow me.”
She followed him through a door at the back of the cramped reception area and into a surprisingly neat office with a window facing the woods.
“Have a seat,” he said with his back to her as he went to the ot
her side of the desk and lowered himself into a leather chair that conformed to his large body.
Bella sat in the chair across from him, noting the dust-free bookshelves, the neat stack of papers on the desk, and the lack of mechanic’s stench that the bays and the front office seemed to be drenched in.
“Bella Abbascia.” He had a smoker’s voice and followed his words with a loud sigh. “Is your father Milton Abbascia?”
Bella tried to hide her surprise. “Yes.”
He smiled. “Concord station wagon, Buick LeSabre.”
She furrowed her brows as he rattled off the cars from her youth.
“Some people remember faces; for me it’s names and cars. I worked with my pop before I took over. Your name isn’t common, so I looked through the old records, and yup. The guy I remembered—tall, rail thin, serious minded. I assumed he was your father.”
Relief swept through her. Her father was all those things, plus a careful and meticulous man. If he trusted the Healys, then she knew she could as well.
“He’s driving a Taurus now.” She crossed her legs and drew her shoulders back, concentrating on, and pushing past, the nervous energy that had her fidgeting with her purse.
“Mr. Healy, I know you’re busy, so I’ll try to be succinct. As I explained on the phone, I’m working with the school system to put together a work-study program. Have you hired a teenager as an apprentice or mentored any of the local kids?”
His eyes grew serious again. “We hired a kid a few years back. Rat stole two hundred dollars.”
Great. “That’s unfortunate, but not all kids are like that. The program I’m putting together is geared toward helping those who can’t afford to go to college, or perhaps don’t have an interest. I’m asking local businesses to help these kids learn trades and responsibility. We’re talking only about fifteen hours a week at minimum wage.”
He leaned forward and rested his massive forearms on the desk. “Bella. Is it okay if I call you Bella?”
“Yes, of course.” By his serious tone, she knew she was about to be turned down, and she fought to keep the irritation from her face.
“Bella, what you’re doing is commendable, but winters around the Cape are very different from summers. It’s pretty desolate, and kids aren’t as inclined to ride their bikes to a job they’d rather not be doing in ten-degree weather.”
“You’re on public transportation.”
“True, but they have to pay for that transportation.” He lifted his thick, graying brows. “I could give you ten practical reasons why a kid would do a crappy job or not show up for work, but you’re a smart woman, so I won’t play that game. I’ll give you one honest answer.
“I’m not willing to spend time training kids that I don’t know and trust. I’ve had the same employees for the past eleven years. We run an efficient business, and as much as I want to help the kids around here, I’ve been burned once, and that was enough.”
“Mr. Healy, you got your start working with your father. Many of these kids don’t have that option, so I’ll ask you this. What options would you have had if your father hadn’t owned this shop?” Bella held his gaze, hoping he’d soften to her plight.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “Great question, and one I’ve thought about a million times in the last twenty years. I’m not sure what my options would have been. But I’ve spent a lot of years building a business people can trust. The residents here rely upon me to do business fairly and to provide quality work.” He shrugged as if he’d provided an answer.
“How does hiring a student who can learn and grow from your efforts hinder that business?”
“If I could be assured they were here only to learn, that would be one thing.” He pushed to his feet. “Come with me.” He led her out the office door, through the reception area to the parking lot, where he pointed to a car. “See that red Corolla?”
“Yes.”
“It was broken into two nights ago. The radio was stolen, along with some CDs. The checkbook the customer had in the glove box was left behind. That tells me kids were involved, because a practiced thief would have taken the checkbook and known what to do with it a few towns away. Letting teenagers in is giving them an open door to scoping out inside jobs.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Like I said, I’ve been burned once. It’s been a long time since I was a kid, and I know every generation says the next is worse than theirs was.” He shrugged. “I can’t do it, but I appreciate what you’re trying to do, and I’ll tell you what. Let’s see how the first year of the program goes. If the businesses don’t end up with more trouble than they asked for, I’ll consider it for the following year. Maybe some of the larger companies can hook you up this year.”
Bella drove straight to the Chocolate Sparrow and bought a hunk of fudge. She needed a dose of sugar to chase away the ills of reality. She sat outside the little white shop with a thick chunk of peanut butter fudge, silently giving herself a pep talk. Of course she’d run into this type of thing. Why would she think otherwise? Teenagers were teenagers. They weren’t wired to be well behaved all the time, but if they didn’t have the opportunity to focus on more productive ideas and challenge themselves in ways that were conducive to a responsible future, then what did people expect? Idle hands…
She closed her eyes for a second and tilted her head up toward the sun, thinking about Caden. In a few hours, he’d be at her cottage installing extra locks to ensure her safety. She still thought the locks were unnecessary, even with the recent break-ins. There had never been any trouble at Seaside. Someone was always home, and they were tucked away from the main road. She felt safe there. But she loved that he cared enough to do it, and she was excited to see him again.
After his comment about calling her, she made a point of bringing her cell phone with her today. She pulled it out now, and her cheeks flushed with the thought of the selfie she’d sent him. The first racy picture she’d ever sent a man. Boy, he sure was tugging her toward the edge of Love Mountain. She looked at their picture, which she’d set as the wallpaper on her phone.
Bella was nothing if not practical, and as she stared into his dreamy eyes and ran her finger over the image of his windblown hair, she knew the feelings that were making her feel warm all over were coming too fast. They went against her plan to figure out her life, but, boy, did she like Caden Grant. He was about as committed as they came, having raised his son alone for all those years, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d be as committed to her. Or even if he started out as such, that he’d remain that way. She knew men didn’t come with guarantees, the same way she didn’t come with one.
Her mind drifted to Evan. He was a sharp, respectful kid, and she could tell by the way he interacted with Caden that they had a good relationship. Mr. Healy’s adamant rejection and Wilma’s speculation about wayward teens fueled her desire to get the program off the ground for kids like Evan, who wanted to do and learn more than what was readily available to them. She finished her fudge, which took the edge off her frustration, and headed to her next appointment with rejuvenated hope.
Almost three hours—and three rejections—later, Bella drove down the back road that ran parallel to the ocean on her way to Seaside. Four kids on bikes came flying out of Payton’s Campground directly into her path. She slammed on the brakes, and with her pulse racing, she recognized Evan’s mop of chestnut hair and long, skinny legs as he pedaled away. After the initial shock of almost running them over subsided, a flood of childhood memories came rushing back. She and the Seaside girls pedaling their own bikes to the beach, flaunting their bikini bodies, waving to cute boys, then spending all day in the sun. Evenings spent gathered around the pool, rehashing their long afternoons in the sun, and sneaking out to sit in the darkness and whisper about things they hoped to do when they were older. Not much had changed. They were still the same close-knit friends they’d always been, and she hoped, as she drove into Seaside and parked in front of her cottage, that Evan was
building the same type of cherished memories.
“Hey, girlfriend.” Leanna waved from her deck as Bella stepped from her car. She held up a muffin. “Come over and try my newest creation.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took the warm muffin from Leanna. “Somehow the peanut butter fudge I bought from the Chocolate Sparrow didn’t hold me over. I’m starved.” She took a bite and her eyes widened with the delicious burst of banana and cranberry melting in her mouth. “Leanna, this is…” She swallowed the last of it. “Scrumptious.”
“Hmm.” Leanna crinkled her nose. She wore a pair of cutoffs and a tank top streaked with red jam and muffin batter. “Jenna said it was orgasmic, so I’m thinking that scrumptious is a level below that.”
“Was Pete here when she said it?” Bella asked.
Leanna’s eyes widened. “Oh, right. She was talking about Pete. I swear, you guys are always much quicker on the uptake with things like that than I am.”
“Nah, it’s just that it’s Tuesday, and every Tuesday morning, Jenna’s thinking about Pete and orgasms she hopes he’ll one day induce.”
Kurt came out of their cottage. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to hearing you guys talk about men like we’re here only to pleasure you.” He wrapped his arms around Leanna from behind and kissed her neck.
“Mm.” Leanna reached up and stroked his cheek. “Why? Because you hate doing it so much?”
