Fudgeballs And Other Sweets (5 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

BOOK: Fudgeballs And Other Sweets
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She pushed against the floor with her slippered feet and nudged the rocker in motion again. Sometimes life was downright complicated.
 
DAVE CLOSED the cash register, then sacked the customer's purchases. On the other side of the wall, he could hear Dory screaming at the top of her lungs. Teething, he decided. Lower incisors. Always an ugly experience. Then upper incisors. Really nasty.
Jake sent up a loud howl as Dory screeched. Darn that dog. He'd started sympathizing with the baby's wails, making the situation worse. Tourists steered clear of the racket.
Dave stepped to the door. “Knock it off, Jake!”
Jake looked up, lifted his head and howled louder.
“Thanks.” The customer pocketed his change. “That dog out there sure can howl.” The fiftyish man looked in the sack before closing it.
“I'm afraid my dog's decided he's in love with the baby next door.” Grabbing an empty foam cup, Dave followed the patron out the front door. The man continued down the street as Dave made a ninety-degree turn into Fudgeballs. Jenny glanced up as he entered.
He lifted the foam cup. “Ran out of coffee. Have an extra cup?”
“Just made a fresh pot.” She motioned toward the back room. “Help yourself. Are you aware your dog is howling like a banshee?”
“He's sympathizing with Dory.” He walked over to tickle Dory on the belly. “What's all the crying? Is she teething?”
“I haven't the slightest idea. She's been like this all morning.”
Dave frowned when he saw the dark circles shadowing Jenny's eyes.
“Rough night?”
“No, Dory slept like a—”
“Baby?” Dave guessed.
Jenny nodded. “It was shortly after breakfast when she turned militant.”
Dave poked a finger in the corner of the infant's diaper. “She's dry.”
“Dry, fed, pampered, rocked—I'm at the end of my list.”
Grinning, Dave picked up Dory and put her on his shoulder. This he could handle. When Megan was little, he took care of her more than Nancy did. Nancy was more concerned with her bridge club and country club than motherhood—all in the pursuit of networking, she'd insisted. At least her lack of interest in their daughter had taught him the finer arts of fatherhood. Arts he dearly missed. He hadn't given the smell of baby powder and formula burps much thought until Dory brought memories of Megan. Talking baby gibberish, he waltzed Dory around the room until her frantic screams dissolved into soft, hiccuping snubs.
Wiping her hands on her apron, Jenny came around the counter to stare at him. “How'd you do that?”
“Practice. Megan cried the entire first year of her life. Dory's definitely teething. Heard anything from Rob?” Dave gently patted Dory's back as her eyelids started to droop.
“Not a thing.” Jenny returned to stirring the boiling kettle.
“Where's your hired help?”
“Mrs. Wilcox is due in any moment.” She dumped sugar and corn syrup into a second kettle. “The baby's been cranky, and I'm so behind it's scary. Sorry I can't take time to visit.”
Dory was fast asleep, and he tenderly lowered her into the carrier. Outside, Jake's howls faded to simpering whines.
“Thank goodness,” Jenny said in response to the blissful silence.
“You don't like my dog, do you?”
“About as much as you like mine.” She grinned.
Moving quietly away from the carrier, Dave motioned toward the back room. “Should I take her back there?”
“Would you?” She was afraid she looked so grateful he felt sorry for her. “Put her where I can see her—and be sure and wrap her blanket tightly around her little feet so they won't get cold.”
“It's summer. She'll get too hot.”
“I don't want her coming down with the sniffles.”
Dave returned a moment later with a cup of coffee. Leaning against the counter, he took a sip as he watched her work. She looked cute in the oversize T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It hung loose to the bottom of her Bermuda shorts, covering the small waistline he'd admired more than once. Strands of hair fell from the ponytail to caress her neck, something he'd like to do himself. “What do you intend to say when people notice Rob and Teensy are gone, and Dory's with you?”
“The truth. Rob left Dory with me while he and Teensy took a few days off.”
Dave shook his head. “You really think they're coming back?”
“I don't know—I haven't the time to worry about it right now.”
He followed her to the front case where she slid in a pan of maple walnut. “Think you can get away for a few minutes after work?”
“I don't know—why?”
“I talked to a Realtor this morning. He says there's a building in Mackinac City for rent. Perfect location, good retail space. How about it? Want to look at it with me?”
She picked up a bolt of blue ribbon and moved to the worktable. “You think it sounds promising?”
“It sounds promising.”
“And you want us to look at it? Together?”
He shrugged. “Recalling our earlier conversation about wanting to expand...”
He was trying to make this easy for her. His conscience wouldn't let him take her space without knowing she had a place to go. He'd contacted a Realtor in Mackinac City, and now he hoped nature would take its course.
“Oh.” She started wrapping fudgeballs. “You want me to look at it with you.”
“I can get away—can you?” He noticed a blush colored her cheeks, and she refused to look at him. How much easier did she want it? He usually didn't go to such lengths to accommodate a former tenant, but she was different. His gaze slid over her breasts. Unfortunately, dammit, a lot different.
She finally glanced at him with a coy smile. He didn't know her well, but she was acting strange. Was he imagining the spark between them? No, he definitely felt something—something that spelled trouble. The casual businesslike rapport he'd tried hard to maintain seemed to be slipping.
“I can get away shortly after five-thirty—if that's not too late?”
“No,” he said, then repeated, “no. Five-thirty would be great. I'll call the Realtor and let him know we'll be there a little after six.”
“We'll have to take Dory.”
“No problem. If you're game, we'll get a bite to eat when we're through.” Getting her settled would take a load off his mind, and it would be nice to have a dinner companion.
“I'm game.” She straightened, working a kink out of her lower back. “It's awfully nice of you to move so quickly on this.”
“Don't mention it. I know you want to expand as soon as possible.” She looked relieved, and he was glad he'd taken the initiative.
“I do—and I really appreciate you taking time to help out, especially since you're busy, too.”
Dave waved her gratitude aside, eyeing the wisps of blue ribbon littering the work table. “Is that the Floridian blue you promised?”
She glanced at the bolts of ribbon and mounds of yet-to-be-wrapped fudgeballs, sighing. “Yes.”
“It's none of my business, but isn't that closer to Indiana purple?” he joked.
She took a closer look at the ribbon. Cripes. Of course it was wrong. Why hadn't she noticed the purplish cast? “It's Federal blue,” she said, appalled at the mistake.
“Really?” He picked up a fudgeball and examined the cellophane wrap. “I was thinking more like
Nightmare on Elm Street.”
Her face fell. “It is bright, isn't it?”
“What's it going to be used for?”
“A debutante's coming-out party.”
He took a sip of coffee. “If you want to get another color, I'll watch the store until your help gets here.” He smiled. “There's going to be one unhappy debutante if you stay with that color.”
“Mrs. Sagan-Meyer would kill me if it was anything other than what she ordered.” She hurriedly stripped off her apron. “What about the kite shop?”
“I'll hang a sign saying I'll be back in half an hour.”
Giving her appearance a once-over in the mirror, she smoothed her hair, then reached for her purse. “I won't be long.”
“Take your time.”
He watched her leave and sipped his coffee. He was pleased with himself. If all went well, his troubles were over. He could expand the kite shop with a clear conscience, knowing Fudgeballs would continue to thrive in the new location. He wasn't an ogre, just a businessman. It was satisfying to know he and Jenny would part as friends.
He smiled at his brilliance. He knew how to handle women, with the notable exception of Nancy. He sobered. A Sumo wrestler would have a tough time pinning her to the mat.
The expansion was proceeding like a well-oiled piece of machinery. By tonight, McNeill would have her new floor space, and he could get on with his plans.
If he could only find Megan, things would be perfect.
4
F
IVE-THIRTY that afternoon, Jenny carried Dory aboard Shepler's ferry for the sixteen-minute hydroplane ride to Mackinac City. Dave struggled behind, loaded down with a diaper bag, stroller and a folded baby blanket big enough to cover half of Mackinac Island. Jenny was afraid the baby would be cold on the ride back.
They stood at the railing, laughing with Dory as she delighted in the outing.
The wind whipped their hair as the boat skimmed across the top of the water. Jenny smiled. It was the first time she'd ever seen one strand of his dark blond hair out of place. She tried to hold down the bottom of her sundress. It would be embarrassing to have it blow in her face. She hated dresses, but she was glad she'd kept one in the back room for emergencies. For once she felt like a lady next to him. He'd always seen her in shorts and T-shirts, and she wondered if he'd even noticed her dress. In the distance, Mackinac Bridge, one of the largest suspension bridges in the United States, glistened in the sun.
Dory reached over and latched onto Dave's hair, yanking it. He rewarded her with a playful yelp, and she yanked harder, showing two reddened spots on her lower gums where the beginnings of a tiny new tooth had suddenly appeared.
“Oh, Dave, look!” Dory bucked and squirmed, averting her head as Jenny tried to probe the new addition. “Her first tooth!”
Dave steadied the baby's head over squealing protests as they examined the tooth with parental pride.
“It's going to be so straight!” Jenny exclaimed.
“Have you ever seen an eight-month-old in braces?”
“No, silly—but it looks exceptionally good, don't you think?”
“It's perfect.” He pretended to throw Dory up in the air and catch her. The baby burst into giggles.
“Rob and Teensy are going to be heartsick they missed this moment.” Jenny leaned against the railing, luxuriating in the feel of the wind through her hair. She'd worn it loose for a change, knowing it would never stay in a ponytail during the boat ride. She'd caught Dave staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking.
“You have a camera?”
“At home. Why?”
“A first tooth is—what do they say on television? A Kodak moment?”
Why, the old softy
, Jenny thought.
He's sentimental.
Cocking her head, she smiled. “As in, We'll take a picture so Rob and Teensy can share in the fun when they get back?”
“As in, It's cute. Let's remember it.”
He didn't believe Rob and Teensy would be back. She refused to believe they wouldn't. Her only problem was to keep her role of temporary guardian in perspective, or she would find herself head over heels in love with Dory and be crushed when she had to give her up.
The ferry docked, and they walked the short distance to where a late-model Mustang convertible, hunter green with tan top, was parked.
“Nice car,” she commented.
“Thanks.” He strapped Dory's carrier into the back seat.
Jenny glanced around the car. “I used to keep my Volkswagen Beetle parked here, but I sold it a couple of years ago. I just didn't use it that much.”
It was close to six when they entered Alstairs Realty. Cool air seeped through Jenny's thin cotton dress. A tall, distinguished-looking gray-haired man with a mustache got up from his desk to shake hands with Dave.
“Right on time.”
Dave smiled. “How's it going, Loyal?”
“Can't complain.” His friendly gaze shifted. “And this must be Jenny McNeill.”
Jenny smiled, switching Dory to her opposite hip to shake hands.
The Realtor was all smiles. “McNeill? Were you related to Millie McNeill?”
“Millie was my grandmother. After her death, I stayed on at the cottage where I grew up and decided to open Fudgeballs.”
He chuckled. “What a small world. Millie used to play bridge with my sister, Leona.”
“Leona was your sister? She was Gram's best friend. How is she?”
“Leona's in a nursing home now, but doing pretty good.” His brows lifted.
“Millie could sure tell stories.”
Jenny smiled, remembering. “She sure could.”
“Dave says your fudgeballs rival Godiva chocolates.”
Jenny blushed. “Thanks, but it's hard to beat a Godiva.”
Preliminaries aside, Loyal tickled Dory under her chin. “You've sure got a cute baby. What's this little charmer's name?”
“Dory's not mine. I'm watching her for a friend.”
Loyal took the disclaimer in stride. “Well, I know you're anxious to look at the property. Relocating, huh?”
Jenny glanced at Dave, smiling. “Dave says it's a nice location.”
“A real honey.” Loyal took a set of keys off a peg. “It's only a block away.”
Dave took Dory as they left the air-conditioned office and stepped into the eighty-five-degree evening. Heat shimmered from the sidewalk and crept up her bare legs.
Dave unfolded the stroller and settled Dory in for the short walk. The baby fussed. Jenny had given her a bottle just before they left the shop, but it was getting close to her dinnertime.
Dave tried to cajole away the infant's sudden foul mood by pointing out her reflection in the windowpanes as they passed. Dory was only momentarily distracted.
Loyal unlocked the door of an attractive-looking storefront As they stepped into the building's interior, Jenny visualized colorful kites hanging from the ceiling and tacked on the walls. There was plenty of space for counters and display racks. Her excitement rose. The place was perfect for Dave.
“There's twenty-five hundred square feet, ample lighting—everything a business needs,” Loyal said. “Foot traffic is good, maybe not quite as good as on the island during peak times, but good.”
Dave meandered to the back of the store where a bathroom and two small rooms were located. “There's plenty of room for an office and storage.”
Jenny joined him to peek in the largest room. “I like the layout—good view of the front door.”
“A person could get—what, Loyal? Five or six display cases in a room this size?”
“At least that—maybe more.”
Dave grinned at Jenny. “Room for a lot of fudge.”
“Or kites,” she agreed, laughing. As far as she was concerned, it was the ideal location for him. Even if there wasn't as much foot traffic as the island offered, with the new line of Space Alien kites and word of mouth, Dave would have all the business he could handle.
They wandered around the store, pointing out advantages and disadvantages, but in general agreed the building was ideal for expansion.
“So,” Dave asked, taking Dory out of the stroller. He smiled at the baby. “What do you think?”
Dory gurgled, latching onto Dave's hair again.
“Well, I like it,” Jenny said. “What do you think?”
“I think it's ideal.”
“Good.” Loyal opened his briefcase. “Shall I draw up the contract?”
Dave glanced at Jenny.
She glanced at him.
When she saw he seemed to be hesitating, she said, “I don't think you could go wrong, do you?”
“No. It's got all the space a person could want.”
She smiled. “Indeed.” She waited for him to clinch the deal. If he signed the contract now, he could be out of his side of the unit by the end of the month. The timing couldn't be better.
When she glanced up, she saw Dave and Loyal staring at her. Her hand went to her hair, suddenly aware of her appearance. Was there something wrong with her dress? She hadn't worn panty hose, only comfortable sandals. She should have slipped into the bathroom and at least run a comb through her hair. The ferry ride had been windy. Why were they staring?
When no one said anything, the silence grew unbearable.
“Price is right,” she offered, hoping to get on with it. She was hungry.
Dave nodded. “Can't beat it for the floor space.”
Silence.
Clearing his throat, Dave glanced at Loyal. “Why don't I give you a call in the morning.”
“Certainly.” Loyal closed the briefcase. “I'll be in and out all day. Just leave a message if I'm gone.”
They parted outside the building, Loyal going one way, Dave and Jenny the other. Jenny wondered why Dave hadn't jumped on the opportunity. It wasn't the money. That part didn't seem to worry him. Maybe he didn't want to discuss finances in front of her. Retail space like this didn't come along every day. Good location, easy access—she'd given her seal of approval. She couldn't appear overanxious, but he needed to move, and quickly, or he'd lose the location.
“You like Italian food?” Dave's voice jerked her back.
“Sure. Anything. I'm not particular.”
Jenny was amazed by how happy Dave seemed. He sang a song to Dory and laughed as he pushed the stroller to the restaurant on the corner. He held the door for her, then entered with Dory, parking the stroller beside the coatrack.
“I'll take her,” Jenny said as the waitress approached with menus.
Dave handed Dory over with a smile and followed Jenny to the table, his hand resting on her shoulder as they walked. The waitress brought a high chair and they ordered.
“So what do you think?” It was a simple yes-or-no question, but he proceeded to talk nonstop about the positive aspects of the building and how nice it would be to have all that space.
Finally the food arrived and silence prevailed as they ate. Dory enjoyed the bites of spaghetti Jenny smashed into a pulp. Banging a spoon on the high chair, the baby drew an occasional reprimanding look from nearby diners.
Jenny wrestled the spoon away from her, then took her to the ladies' room to clean and change her. When she returned, Dory's head was nodding.
Laying Dory in the booth beside her, Jenny smiled as the baby stared at her with eyes so like Rob's. Her heart turned over. So much for not getting attached, she thought. Dory blinked a couple of times, then dropped off to sleep.
Resting her head on the back of the booth, Jenny closed her eyes. She felt the chill of a wineglass being placed in her right hand and smiled.
“You're going to make a damn good mother.”
“I love children,” she murmured, taking a sip of the wine he'd thoughtfully poured. Dave Kasada knew how to please a woman. Rehashing the subject of the new space crossed her mind, but she decided for once to forget business. She was in the company of a good-looking man, the baby was asleep, the hectic day was finally over. It felt good to drift for awhile.
“Rough day?”
“The worst—but they've all been that way lately.”
“Mrs. Wilcox working out?”
“She eats more than she sells.”
They shared a smile. How long had it been since she'd been alone with a man? She couldn't remember. She'd dated a few times since the breakup with Brian, but eligible men on the island were at a premium. There was Jay Matson, the golf pro. Terry Black, dull but nice. Rick Collier, a man who loved
all
women.
Dave toyed with his glass, obviously at ease with the moment. How many hearts had
he
broken? A few, she'd guess. Had he instigated his divorce, or had it been his wife? Why? Incompatible, fell out of love, outgrew each other? She thanked God for Brian's cold feet. They might have married, and she could be in Dave's position, divorced, hurt, fighting for a child.
“Ever been married, Jenny?”
She glanced up, surprised he was attuned to her thoughts. “No. Came close once.”
“What happened?”
“He couldn't commit. I think he wanted to, but something inside wouldn't let him.”
“That's pretty unbiased for a woman.”
She shrugged, gazing at the bottom of her glass. Candlelight turned the ruby red liquid into a shimmering pool. “I don't think Brian would agree with you. I was pretty hard on him—resented the seven years I lost with him. It hurt then, but I'm getting over it now.”
“Does anyone ever get over something like that?” He took a sip of wine.
Sensing his disappointment, she reached out and laid her hand on his. The contact was warm and assuring. “One mistake doesn't give me—or you—the right to say all relationships are bad.”
He stared at the table. “Philosophy?”
“Bunk.” She grinned and bit into a breadstick. “But it sounds good, doesn't it?”

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