The Café between Pumpkin and Pie

by Marina Adair

  “I play hard, Hannah. I’m a daredevil and a risk taker.”

  “I pack a safety net.”

  His dimple flashed. “I like learning about you.”

  “Same for you.”

  He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Full disclosure, I’ve had moments of questionable behavior.”

  “How questionable?” A crime, probation, jail time?

  “Nothing too terribly wrong,” he assured her. “I should’ve done one thing but instead did another.”

  “Did you lie about it?”

  “A slight twist of the truth,” he reflected. “But for a good reason. I had a football scholarship to college. Wide receiver. My father nudged me toward Business Administration. Work hard. Work smart. While on campus I dated an English literature major. Charlene Wells belonged to a highbrow book club and dragged me to a discussion at her professor’s home.”

  “She must’ve been hot,” Hannah mused. Jake didn’t look like the reading group type. Unless intellectual stimulation led to sex. That she could believe.

  He conceded, “Char was smokin’, but she quickly cooled toward me. I claimed to have read Ulysses by James Joyce, the entire book, but actually I just started it, got bored, and took a nap after forty pages. I went on to watch the 1967 movie instead. Needless to say, my comments and observations didn’t resonate well with the other book club members. They dissected the themes while I barely scratched the surface. Charlene was embarrassed by me. I spent more time at the refreshment table than listening to the discussion. I split after several chicken salad finger sandwiches, three chocolate brownies, a handful of cream cheese mints, and a cup of tea.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I ate a doily.”

  No way. “The lacy circle under the food?”

  He nodded. “Those fancy thin papers are pure decoration and not to be eaten. I hadn’t noticed the doily stuck to the bottom of my brownie. I didn’t realize there was a little china dish on the table to discard them. I’d chewed and swallowed. Mine was in my stomach.”

  “Did anyone see you eat it?”

  “Only the caterer. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. I lacked the sophistication of the other members.”

  “Oh . . . Jake.” She felt both sympathy and amusement. Her laughter won out. This very hot motorcycle man had eaten a delicate doily. She crossed her arms over her stomach and laughed until her belly hurt. He chuckled too, at his own expense. “That’s quite the confession,” she finally managed. “Tell me, was there a second date with Charlene?”

  “Not a chance. She considered herself an intellectual and me an illiterate biker.”

  “That was harsh.”

  “The situation taught me not to lie to get laid.”

  “And to look at the bottom of a brownie before you put it in your mouth.”

  “That too.”

  “We have a similar history,” she confided. “We’ve both met Ulysses. You through a book club, me through Library Week. Moonbright promotes and celebrates literacy in April. A time when both young and old are encouraged to read. My gram suggested that Lauren and I take part in the accompanying lectures. We agreed, to please her. Those involved would give five-minute speeches on a particular genre chosen by the librarian.

  “A big meeting was held in the conference room. I arrived late and sat in the back. Lauren was there too. I crossed my fingers, held my breath, and hoped to speak on women’s fiction or mysteries. Regrettably, all categories had been assigned. My sister got children’s books. Lucky her. Only modernist literature remained. The media specialist handed me Ulysses to review. Awkward for me. I hadn’t a clue as to the avant-garde of the early twentieth century, but then neither did anyone around me. I received pity looks and sympathetic mumbles. Junior college hadn’t prepared me for Ulysses. I initially wanted to bail on Library Week.”

  He sat up straighter and said, “I feel bad for you even now. The book is a tomb. Over seven hundred pages. It’s not a pleasure read. Even scholars would’ve struggled.”

  “I managed.”

  “Damn, I’m impressed.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be. The dust jacket confused me. The book itself was unreadable. For me, anyway. Not wanting to disappoint my grandma, I took a shortcut, much as you did with the book club.”

  His grin was immediate. “You’re a lady after my own heart. I’m liking you more and more.”

  He gave her a high five then. Their palms touched and he gently squeezed her hand. Their fingers unexpectedly twined. They were now holding hands. His grasp was warm, callused, relaxed. Pleasant. She waited for him to release her. He did not. Instead he lowered their hands to the table. Their connection felt good. Natural. Genuine. Right.

  “Tell me, Hannah, what was your alternative to reading the book?” he asked.

  “I bought the CliffsNotes, which made my eyes cross. James Joyce may have been one of the most influential writers of his time, but I found him tiresome. Draining. I next turned to Wikipedia. I memorized several pertinent pages.”

  “The perfect five-minute abridged version.”

  “Pretty much so. I’m good at retaining information. I was the last to speak and incredibly nervous. I complimented my audience, noting they were smart and progressive and that Ulysses would provide a life-changing experience. That caught their attention. I mentioned that Joyce’s modernist experiment was hailed as a revolutionary work of genius by T. S. Eliot and Ernest Hemingway. Many readers were familiar with Eliot and Hemingway.”

  “A good comparison.”

  “I somehow managed to push forward. Those in the media center were attentive. Although I doubt they fully grasped my speech. But then neither did I. There were both confused and awed expressions. All wide eyes and dropping jaws. Heads were scratched when I tossed out phrases like ‘scandalously frank,’ ‘wittily erudite,’ ‘mercurially eloquent,’ ‘resourcefully comic,’ and ‘generously humane.’ Tongue twisters. Sounding smart without really understanding what I was talking about.

  “I finished and silence grabbed the room until Gram clapped. She was so proud of me. She called me gifted. High praise for a cribbed speech. The question and answer period followed. Fortunately, no hands were raised.”

  “You were brilliant,” he commended. “Innovative in finding a way to give a speech on a tough topic.”

  “I did cheat.”

  “I see you as clever. You were resourceful, lady. You gave a solid review. Not many people could recite five minutes of Wiki, especially on such an academic level. I’d have given you a standing ovation.” He paused, curious. “How did Lauren do with her children’s books?”

  “Lauren wore a fuzzy bear outfit that she’d rented from Charade, the local costume shop. She spoke well and read a few pages from one of the Berenstain Bear books. Her audience ranged from toddlers to ten-year-olds. The kids loved her. Children’s books are heart-warming. Youngsters get attached to characters. Curious George, the Velveteen Rabbit, Winnie-the-Pooh, or even Fancy Nancy. There were lots of smiles.”

  “What did you wear?”

  She blinked. “Do you honestly care?”

  “Merely fantasizing, babe. I can picture you as a brainiac. Hair in a bun, small rectangular reading glasses, buttoned-up white collared blouse tucked into a plaid pleated skirt. Saddle shoes.”

  She corrected him. “Your imagination’s more schoolgirl than scholarly. Substitute the plaid skirt for a black A-line with short heels and you’ve got me.”

  “Still hot.”

  “I was going for professional.”

  “I’m sure you succeeded.” He rubbed his thumb along her wrist, warming the soft skin. “Lauren might have proved entertaining, but you were thought provoking.”

  “More like mind-numbing.” She suddenly smiled over a memory. “I’ve checked out a lot of library books over the years. I used to leave positive unsigned notes in the pages for future readers.”

  “Nice gesture. What are you reading now for fun?”

  “A mystery s
et in the South.”

  “I just picked up the latest John Grisham.”

  A companionable silence joined them at the table. Their attraction was strong. Tangible. They looked at each other, really looked, and formed an invisible bond. Unintentional but evident. Scary yet reassuring. She’d never felt so in tune with another person. All in a very short time.

  He grinned, a sexy uptick of his lips. “No matter what else happens in our lives, we’ll always have Ulysses between us.”

  That they would. Be that as it may, his words gave her pause. He could leave tomorrow and return to Bangor. His visit would undoubtably be short-lived. In that moment she decided that while he was in town she would enjoy his company, his friendship. Maybe even a kiss, should he be so inclined?

  “You work, you read, what else, Hannah?” he asked.

  “At the end of my shift, I often head upstairs to quilt, but it’s not something I do well. The last comforter I made didn’t land on my bed, but found its way to my sofa. Irregular in size, it’s more triangular than square.”

  “Nothing wrong with a triangle.”

  “True.” She appreciated his positive spin on the asymmetrical shape. She liked to snuggle deep into the navy and gold pinwheel stars.

  “The rest of your spare time?”

  “I like art. I sketch landscapes.”

  “Stick figures here.”

  Which drew her grin. “I often go to the movies,” she told him.

  “Most recent show?”

  “Double feature. Jaws and Jurassic Park at the Strand Cinema on Spice Street. The owner runs popular oldies. I love the buttered popcorn.”

  “Movies are nice, but I prefer streaming Netflix at home. SEAL Team and cop shows. Stretched out on the sofa. Beer in the fridge. Pizza delivery. A bowl of mixed nuts. When I’ve time to kill, I often choose movies with awful reviews to see how bad they really are. Flicks are subjective—not all of them deserved low ratings.”

  She wondered, “Favorite time of year?”

  “Fall and winter. I like the outdoors. Hiking, camping, ice fishing. I’ve survival skills.”

  “Spring or summer for me. I enjoy daily walks as long as the weather permits. Your grandfather joins me on occasion.”

  “I jog. Maybe I’ll join you sometime too.”

  “We stroll. You’d be jogging in place.”

  “What about Moody?” he asked.

  “He prefers the café counter stool to exercise. He’s a people person. Very social.”

  “Sports?” he posed.

  “Baseball and gymnastics. Watched on TV. I’m not very athletic. You?”

  “I always liked football. However, there were no professional draft prospects after college. Graduation, and I joined my dad’s business. I presently have a younger brother who’s just started working part-time. Janson was a late-in-life baby. He’s conscientious and smart. A good mechanic.”

  “A family business then.”

  “Same as with you and the café.”

  They’d covered a lot of ground. She didn’t know him well, but she knew him better than when they’d marched together in the parade. She liked every aspect of the man.

  She snuck a peek at her watch. It wasn’t terribly late. She wasn’t sure if she should call it a night or continue with Jake. He was a good time. She’d give anything to stay. However, Sunday morning would come too soon. The café would be swamped. She needed a solid night’s sleep. There’d be no pushing the snooze button.

  Her practical side had her rising from the booth. She stood, then stacked their plates and glasses. Jake took the hint and rose beside her, aviators in hand. He was tall. She looked him up and down, smiled, more to herself than at him. “When I was a kid, I was absolutely sure that everyone taller than me was on stilts. I’d eyeball their legs, checking them out.”

  “In elementary school I would enter a room with my left foot first. No idea why. It became a habit.” A grin spread as he remembered. “I’d reinvent myself every day and go by a different name.”

  “How’d that work for you?”

  “Not well. Kids would call out to me on the playground, but I didn’t respond. I’d forgotten the names I’d created for myself. They thought I was a snob.”

  “I like your imagination. I once believed I was invisible in the kitchen. Until Gram accidentally stepped on my toe. She took me by the shoulders and gently suggested I was in the way and should go outside to play.”

  “So much for your superpowers.”

  “I also practiced magic, but my hands weren’t quicker than the eye.”

  “I’m ambidextrous,” he added. “I can write or work with either hand, which drove my kindergarten teacher crazy. She wanted me to print the alphabet only with my right hand. I’d switch.”

  “So much talent.” Such skilled hands. She eased around him. “Thanks for today.”

  “So you’re kissing me good night?”

  “Wishing you a good night,” she corrected. “I’m done for the day. You might not be.” She cupped her hand behind her ear, listened, and then said, “I hear music in the street. People will party well into the night. You could join them.”

  “No need. If you’re turning in, I’m turning in.” She went wide-eyed and he made clear, “Not together, sweetheart.”

  “I wasn’t assuming otherwise.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t.”

  She turned off the dining room lights. The full face of the moon peeked through the window. The emergency lights cast a red glow.

  Jake shadowed her to the kitchen, his steps heavy on her heels. She could feel his heat. She hurriedly washed off the plates and glasses and set them on a drying rack.

  She turned around and found him inches away. She felt time slow down. Awareness nuzzled. Arousal stirred. Impressions surfaced. He seemed to wrap around her, shift into her, and embrace her without touching, in a mystifying oneness.

  Feelings swelled, and untried sensations were exchanged between them. She’d never felt anything like it. His solidness and strength stroked her physically. She wanted to touch him, to press her palms to his chest, to feel his heart pulse beneath her fingers. She suppressed all emotion. Balling her fists, she held them at her sides.

  He sensed her distancing and stepped out of her way. She slipped by him. Their hips brushed and electricity sparked. A simultaneous sizzle. She inhaled sharply. “That was odd.”

  “We generated heat.”

  She wouldn’t have believed it had she not felt it. “I’ve never—” What? Sparked off a man?

  “We have chemistry.”

  She groped for words. Nothing.

  He took her by the hand. “We’re headed the same way. I’ll walk you home.” He led her through the kitchen and into the storage room, where they took the back staircase to the second floor.

  She liked having him see her to her apartment. They soon stood before her door. She clasped her hands before her. His mirrored aviators dangled from his fingers.

  She grasped for something to say. “I like your sunglasses.”

  He slipped them on for effect, grinned. “Wiley X is my brand. Nearly indestructible. I’m prone to setting them down and forgetting about them. I’ve lost many pairs over the years. I’ve gone to wearing them day or night. People have no idea where I’m looking.”

  “Where are you looking now?”

  “At your mouth.”

  “Look away.”

  “Can’t. You have very sexy lips.”

  She went red in the face. Self-conscious.

  He was bold, blunt, and spoke his mind. She liked that about him. Emotion soared. Arousal slipped up on her. She wanted him in her life.

  He apparently wanted her too. His desire came in a kiss. Light and gentle and lasting no more than a heartbeat. Modest and restrained. Sensitive, yet sensationally hot. Memorable.

  Afterward he rested his forehead against her own. Their noses bumped. They both smiled. A seamless bond. A perfect connection.

  She st
ared deeply at her reflection in his shades. She saw herself as he saw her and recognized the hope in her eyes, the optimism in her expression. Her expectations ran high. Time for bed—they would part ways shortly. She wished with all her heart that they might take up tomorrow where they left off tonight.

  An unforeseen jolt stole that likelihood. An awakening zap. The moment took on a life of its own. The Halloween chant echoed in her head. Growing in volume. Jake’s sunglasses gleamed like a polished mirror, then shimmered like a mirage, became muted and dull. Her own image vanished. A new face emerged. The cloudy profile of a man. Her future husband. All cleanly shaved with short hair. Not long-haired and rugged with a sexy dimple. The haze blurred his features. He was unidentifiable. The image faded as quickly as it had appeared.

  Her stomach sank. Numbness overtook her. The stars had not aligned. She felt utterly foolish to have harbored the hope that Jake Kaylor might be her destiny.

  Halloween was not her friend.

  The legend had let her down.

  Her knees buckled. She would’ve collapsed had Jake not grasped her about the waist. He held her for what could’ve been seconds or possibly minutes. His strength flowed into her, along with an undeniable sense of oneness.

  They weren’t one, she reminded herself. Never would be, if the legend was to be believed. Countless women in Moonbright swore by the Halloween reveal. It was now her turn. The sunglasses had introduced her to a new man. Someone who was chosen and meant for her. Despite the fact she’d wished for another.

  Her heart hurt. Her feelings were crushed. She placed her hands on Jake’s forearms and eased back a step. He was slow to release her. His thumbs pressed her abdomen and his long fingers stroked high on her hip. Loss flooded her once he’d fully let her go.

  She felt alone and vulnerable.

  Jake looked as confused as she now felt. The lenses on his aviators were once again mirrored. A solid reflection of her. He tipped them down his nose, his green gaze hard. “What happened, Hannah?” he asked. “We shared a friendly kiss and then you went MIA on me.”

  A friendly kiss? For him, maybe.

  For her, an awakening to what might have been but would never be. The legend foretold that she and Jake would travel separate paths. Painful to say the least.