Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books!

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Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books! Page 131

by Joanna Campbell Slan


  Suffice it to say, I’ve been a wee bit skittish around men ever since. Jason was hoping to have an exclusive relationship. But I didn’t have any experience with intimacy except for my brief marriage—and to call me “scared” was a vast understatement.

  I was petrified.

  My marriage not only cost me my self-esteem, but the resultant legal fees and impact on my parents’ business cost me my freedom. Guilt compelled me to keep working at the restaurant and doing exactly what my parents asked of me. To the outside world, it looked like I had tremendous freedom, but in actuality I had none. Year after year, my only goal was to be a good daughter, to do anything and everything asked of me. How else could I make things right? How else could I atone for mucking up my parents’ lives?

  Relationships are a messy business.

  While I did my mental walk of shame, Jason waited patiently for me to tell him more about my early morning adventure on the beach. He tucked my hand under his arm as we ambled down the sidewalk toward the restaurants that dotted the streets of Downtown Stuart.

  “Yes, I found the woman who washed up on the beach. Can you believe it? That started my day on the wrong foot. I was primed for a nice walk with Jack, but after stumbling over the mermaid—”

  “Mermaid?” Jason frowned as he pulled me closer so we could let other folks get by. As we walked, women’s heads turned. No doubt about it, Jason was major league eye candy. His sandy blond hair was sun-streaked from surfing. His shoulders were broad and his waist tiny. Not only was he well-built, but his chiseled features were well-balanced.

  “Mermaid. That’s my private name for the woman I found. See, when I spotted her, she looked like one of those sand sculptures people leave on the beach. I didn’t realize she was a real person until she moved.” Trying for a light-hearted tone, I added, “Skye has been telling me I need glasses. She’s probably right. Of course, it was break of dawn. The mist made things blurry.”

  We came to a crosswalk, and my date held my arm snuggly against his. “Cara, what were you thinking? Wandering around on a beach by yourself in the dark?”

  “Don’t you start! Poppy has already chewed me out. Jupiter Island is the safest community in the country. Our ratio of law enforcement officers—”

  Jason interrupted. “Don’t give me that baloney. You didn’t have a cop escort, Cara. You could have been hurt. Seriously hurt. Someone could have overpowered you.”

  “So I’ve been told. Repeatedly.”

  “Promise me you won’t endanger yourself like that again.”

  I almost snapped at him. Almost. But a tiny voice inside me said, Your first husband couldn’t have given two hoots in a handbag about your safety. But this is how real men act. They want to protect the people they love.

  Instead of getting huffy, I stopped and kissed Jason on the cheek. We had almost reached the Lyric Theatre, one of our city’s loveliest sights. “I think you’re going overboard. Um, excuse the pun.”

  Jason walked me backwards into an alcove festooned with playbills. Putting both hands on my shoulders, he gently pinned me against the wall. “Cara? Ever since I took that job up in Jacksonville, I’ve come to realize how much I care about you. You mean the world to me.” Moving slowly, he leaned in for a kiss.

  It wasn’t a friend-to-friend sort of smooch. It was long and deep. Fireworks exploded throughout my body. A shower of sparks set me tingling. Even though we were standing there on a public street, I heard a moan escape my lips.

  “Whoa.” I pushed him away. His eyes had a gleam that could only be described as hungry. “Jason, that was, um, intense. I’m not ready for it. I mean, there’s our age difference.”

  He tossed back his head and laughed. “Okay, Grandma.” With a tug at my hand, he pulled me toward the open sidewalk. “Let’s see if you can make it to the restaurant without your walker.”

  17

  The next morning I woke up when Jack licked my chin after chewing on a bully stick.

  “Yuck. Your breath is disgusting,” I told him. My head hurt a little, because Jason and I had shared a wonderful bottle of Malbec wine with our dinner.

  In the bathroom mirror, my reflection showed whisker burns on my neck. Jason had kissed me repeatedly until my knees were as weak as overcooked spaghetti. I probably would have toppled over except that I’d been leaning against my car.

  “I need to get home,” I’d protested. “I have to work tomorrow.” After helping me load up my pets, climb in, and buckle my seatbelt, Jason had insisted on driving me to Jupiter Island. After making sure I was safely ensconced in my house, he’d used his Uber app to get a ride back to his Porsche, which was parked behind my store.

  Jason was a gentleman. He sighed and protested just a little but when the black sedan arrived from Uber, he quickly hopped in. I felt a tinge of regret as I watched them pull out of my driveway. Was I crazy, sending away such an adorable man?

  All in all, Jason and I had a terrific evening. After a wonderful meal at Riverwalk Café, we’d walked around Downtown. Our stroll took us to the Eisenhower Bridge, and on a whim, we decided to take it all the way across the St. Lucie River. Thanks to the bridge’s steep incline, we were both slightly winded on the way back, so we stopped to rest against the concrete buffer while we watched the lights of boats cruising up and down the waterway. The air was rich with the smell of Sargasso, mud, and salt water.

  “How old is Tommy?” Jason had asked.

  I guessed why he was asking. Immediately, my stomach twisted. “Eighteen. He’ll be nineteen in March.”

  “Have you ever thought about having more kids?”

  There it was, the question I’d been anticipating and dreading. As often as I’d rehearsed it in my head, I couldn’t spit out a cogent sentence. “Yes. But I would be an awfully old mother. If I got pregnant today, I’d be fifty-seven by the time my child was ready to go to college. That’s practically a geezer.”

  “Really? Look at your grandfather. He’s incredibly active at seventy-nine. Honora’s seventy-six, right? People are living longer than ever. You take good care of yourself, Cara. Besides, a child would keep you young.”

  “You say that because you’ve never been a parent. Babies wear you down. They are wonderful—don’t get me wrong—but tiring. Exhausting. If you get one who has colic, you never get any sleep. Tommy had a mild case of it. My mother and father took turns holding him. Without them, I can’t imagine…” My voice cracked. I brushed a tear from my eyes as Jason put an arm around me. “My parents were such a big help. Maybe it’s not because of my age. Maybe I can’t imagine having another child because I can’t imagine my parents not being a part of my child’s life.”

  “Babe,” he said, as he pulled me close. I buried my face in his tee shirt, inhaling the pungent fragrance of fresh sweat that mixed with his cologne. “They wouldn’t want you to forgo having a child because they’ve passed over. Besides, you could tell your kid about your parents. Tommy could tell his little sister or brother about them. Poppy could, too. You never met your maternal grandmother, but Poppy has told you a lot about her, right? In fact, the best way to preserve your parents’ memory is to have another child, isn’t it?”

  I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

  “Of course it wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be wonderful.” He kissed the top of my right ear. “Cara, I want a baby. I want to be a dad. And I want—”

  I reached up and put my fingers over his lips to shush him. “Stop. Please. Not right now. I’ve had such a weird day. I’m overly emotional. Let’s not ruin a wonderful evening by letting it get heavy.”

  He dipped his head down to kiss me tenderly. “You’re right. My timing stinks. Promise me you’ll think about it. Okay?”

  “I will.”

  In the cold light of day the next morning, I did.

  I thought about having a baby as Jack sprinted across my yard, as I raced to keep up with him, as I twisted my ankle in a hole in my lawn, as I limped back into
the house, and as I explained the situation to Luna, my cat. She stared at me with those lemon-yellow eyes. Both animals watched me carefully as I set the kettle on my stove and turned the knob to high heat.

  “I am way too old to have another baby. End of discussion.”

  18

  Once I had a cup of coffee in hand, I called Treasure Coast Memorial Hospital to see if I could get an update on my mermaid. The receptionist quickly cut me off. “No comment,” she said. “The hospital administration is giving regular press briefings. You’ll have to get your news that way.”

  “But I’m the one who found her! Come on! I’m wondering if we did the right thing by reviving her!”

  “Oh,” and then a pause. In a whisper, I heard: “She’s still alive, but pretty messed up.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I slapped on a bit of makeup and hurriedly got dressed while Luna and Jack ate their breakfast. I put on a cute Lilly Pulitzer-inspired top and a khaki skirt. It was a darling outfit, but that new Lilly dress called to me like the sirens beckoned to Ulysses. Would I ever get to wear it?

  “Job One is finding out whether I can keep that dress,” I said as I loaded Luna and Jack in my Camry and headed north toward Stuart.

  Poppy showed up at the store only minutes after I’d put on a pot of coffee, my second of the day.

  “I’ll go back home and pick up Sid before your doors open. I wanted to let the boy sleep in as long as possible. He was plumb tuckered out after coming to the store yesterday. He totally underestimated how banged up he is. What that boy needs is rest, rest, and more rest so he can heal.”

  I took two scones out of my refrigerator and pointed at them. “Heated?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  After they were in the microwave, I asked, “Did you find your computer?”

  “Nope.”

  A frisson of frustration wiggled through me. “Did you get the chance to look for Sid’s backpack?”

  “Yup. Did it last night. Found it under his bed. But it was empty. His paycheck was missing, too.”

  A sinking feeling hit me. “You have to be kidding.”

  “Nope. I turned that there house of mine upside down. Looked high and low. Quizzed that boy good. Then I called the hospital. They said I’d have better luck if I talked to the nursing supervisor.”

  “We’ll go do it together. I want to drop off flowers for my mermaid and get back here before the store opens.”

  “That can wait until after I eat one of them scones.”

  The nursing supervisor wore her short red curls sprayed into a helmet. She was prone to repeating everything we said. “Sid? The boy hit by the car? Are those flowers for him?”

  “Actually, these are for the poor woman who washed up on Jupiter Island,” I said.

  “So you’re the media?”

  “No, sirree, young lady.” Poppy gave her a wink. “My granddaughter found that poor woman yesterday morning on the sand. She’s been worrying herself sick, wondering if she did the right thing, reviving her. It was a near thing, as you can imagine.”

  The nursing supervisor echoed, “I can imagine.”

  “Can I give these to her? Is she okay? I figure she’s all alone, and she’s had a hard time of it.” I held out the flowers.

  She shoved her open palm toward me. “I’ll take them.”

  “But is my mermaid okay? Did I help or hurt by reviving her?” Responding to the woman’s narrowed eyes, I added, “It’s been preying on my mind.”

  “Mermaid? Harrumph. You gave her a chance,” said the nursing supervisor as she relieved me of the flowers. But her expression didn’t match her words. Her face had turned mulish. “Now it’s up to God. So why are you asking about that boy if you really care about the immigrant? What are you two trying to pull?”

  “Not one blessed thang,” said Poppy in his best down-home twang. “That there boy, Sid, he works for Cara. You might remember that I’m the one who picked the boy up. Brought him home to live with me. But he cain’t find his computer nowhere. He thinks he mighta left it here, but he ain’t too sure. What with his head injuries and all. It’s powerful important to him.”

  “I’ve been here every day.” I remembered seeing Red Curls, even if she didn’t remember seeing me. “You’re always so busy.”

  “That’s right. I remember you now,” Red Curls said as she frowned. With a half-turn of her body, she blocked me out and addressed her remarks to Poppy. “You’re looking for his computer, and you picked him up the day of the discharge. Didn’t he have it then?”

  “He thought it was still in his backpack. I didn’t check when I put it in my truck. I do remember how sweet you were to him. A regular angel.” Poppy gave her the smarmiest smile. I ached to poke him hard in the ribs. He was definitely shining the woman on.

  “It’s my job.” She preened.

  “No, miss, it ain’t. A lot of people working here wouldn’t give that kid the time of day, on account of his holes in his face and all that metal. But you was something special. He went on and on about you. Of course, I remember ‘cause each time I came to visit you was taking care of him so careful like.”

  “Well, I try.” She gave him a shy look from under her lashes. “By the way, my name is Zelda Monahan.”

  “He really is recovering well,” I said, but no one was listening.

  “Zelda. Ain’t that pretty? I’m Dick Potter. This here’s my grandbaby. That boy, Sid, he’s been staying with me. Tires me out taking care of him, but that boy ain’t got no other kin that cares about him.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” Zelda batted her lashes at Poppy. “I made a fresh pot.”

  When he mumbled, “Don’t wanna put cha out,” she pooh-poohed the suggestion and waved us over to where a coffee maker bubbled and dripped. All the fixings were made available to us. I went easy on the pink sweetener and heavy on the 2% milk. While Poppy doctored up his hot drink, Zelda asked Poppy a zillion questions about himself. I watched as the expensive bouquet I’d purchased in the hospital gift shop slowly wilted in her hands. Finally, a buzzing noise from her pocket rescued us. Zelda waved goodbye with a promise to be “back soon” as she wobbled off to check at the desk, where she was sure there’d be a listing of Sid’s belongings.

  Poppy smirked at me. “I ain’t too old to work my magic with the ladies.”

  “TMI, too much information. What about Wilma? That friend you reconnected with over Christmas?”

  “There’s flirting and there’s for real. This here is flirting. Zelda’s got something we want. But Wilma is everything I want. I miss her, and I can’t wait until she’s back in town.”

  It surprised me to hear him speak so frankly. I wanted to ask him what his intentions were toward Wilma, but instead I held my tongue because Zelda was hurrying toward us.

  “I put the flowers in water. A volunteer will take them upstairs.” Zelda only had eyes for Poppy. Cocking her head with a coquettish smile, she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  “Thanks so much,” I said, trying not to sound as sarcastic as I felt.

  “It’s right here.” She underlined a section with a sparkly pink fingernail as she sidled up to my grandfather. “Sid’s mother picked up his computer. See? It was the day before we discharged the boy.”

  Poppy’s caterpillar eyebrows flew up to his hairline, and I choked on my coffee.

  “Is there a problem?” Zelda pursed her lips.

  “His mother?” I tried to keep the incredulity out of my voice. “She’s not his mother. She’s his stepmother and I thought she never visited him.”

  “That’s what I thought, too.” Poppy looked over the form, a tattered piece of paper attached to a clipboard. “She’s signed in here. That’s her name, all right. Amberlee Heckman.”

  “Is there a problem?” Zelda repeated. She was staring at me curiously. As much as she liked Poppy, she wasn’t too sure about me. I needed to convince her I wasn’t the enemy.

  “Amberlee isn’t really Sid’
s mother. Not biologically at least. She’s his late father’s second—and much, much younger—wife. I hate to sound distrustful, but I am, given what I’ve heard about her.”

  “Are you questioning me?” Zelda stuck out her jaw.

  “No, miss, she ain’t. Not at all. I wouldn’t put up with my granddaughter speaking that way to you,” said my grandfather, pushing me aside so she could take Zelda by the arm. “See, I hate to speak ill of any woman. But this Amberlee, she’s a real bad egg. Couldn’t be bothered to come to the ER when Sid was first brought in. According to the boy, she never dropped by to see him. Now you’re telling us that out of the blue, she shows up right before he goes home and takes his computer. It’s perplexing, ain’t it?”

  “Perhaps she couldn’t get to the ER in time to see him there. Things like that happen all the time. But according to our records, she is the young man’s mother,” said Zelda. “Why shouldn’t we have trusted her?”

  “Okay, but where in tarnation is that there computer?” Poppy wondered.

  Zelda’s mouth sank into a deep scowl. “Please understand that I’m speaking to you only as a courtesy. I don’t have to tell you anything. In fact, you two shouldn’t even be on this floor. That said, Amberlee Heckman had every right to visit Sid Heckman. She is the boy’s mother.”

  That last word was said with emphasis: MUH-ther. As if Poppy and I were non-native speakers and might not get the gist. I considered pointing out that Sid had instructed the hospital to call me immediately after he was hit. However, that probably wouldn’t help the situation. In Zelda’s place, I would have done exactly as she had. I would have followed the paper trail and accepted Amberlee as Sid’s kin.

 

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