Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dean set down the tool he’d been using and wiped his hands on his mechanic’s jumpsuit. He frowned, wanting to ignore the fact that his hands ached and they were trembling slightly. He hadn’t overworked himself at all that day, since he was supposed to go to the cabaret with Noelle that night, but he’d pushed himself too hard the day before, and it seemed he was still dealing with the consequences of that.
But I’ve got to finish this car, he thought, picking up the tool again. The customers are going to be here to pick it up in fifteen minutes. I’ll be okay.
He went back to work, trying to treat his hands gently in hopes that the shaking would go down. He was soon so immersed in concentration on his task, however, that he’d forgotten all about his hands. He barely noticed their ache and he forgot to take it easy, using his tool to tighten parts of the car carefully.
Before long, the car was finished, and he stood up with a sigh. It was then that he noticed how much his hands hurt, and how lightheaded he was. He grimaced, feeling a rush of dismay. He didn’t want to feel exhausted during his important date with Noelle. He wanted their night out together to be fun and special, and he’d been hoping to have plenty of energy for it.
He rubbed his hands together, willing himself to feel better. He shut his eyes, trying to picture the cabaret, and getting to eat dinner with Noelle. He felt that if he reminded himself how much fun it was going to be, his body might produce enough adrenaline to mask his symptoms.
Instead of making him feel better, however, imagining the date made him feel worse. He felt disappointed that he didn’t feel full of energy like he’d been hoping he would. He knew that he was going to struggle through every minute of the date, as much as someone would if they were violently sick with the flu or some other sickness that created body aches.
I can’t disappoint Noelle, though, he thought, gritting his teeth. Not again. And we have so many things to talk about and catch up on.
“Boss?”
Dean opened his eyes to see Keith looking at him with an expression of concern. He straightened, trying to look less ill.
“What’s up, Keith?” He smiled briskly.
Keith shook his head. “You really don’t look good. You’re pale—paler than I’ve ever seen you before. And look at how much your hands are shaking.”
Dean looked down at his hands, which were indeed visibly shaking. He pressed his lips together as a wave of fatigue passed through him, making his head reel. He was practically unsteady on his feet, and he wondered if he was safe to drive such a long distance.
Maybe he could ask Noelle to drive them there instead of him. That would probably work. But what if he fell asleep in the car? Maybe he could?—
“I think you should go home, boss,” Keith said gently. He patted Dean’s shoulder. “You’ve got to take care of yourself, you know? No plan or project is more important than that.”
The truth of Keith’s words sank in. Dean nodded, his heart sinking.
“You’re right. Thanks for looking out for me. I’ll go home in a minute here, but first I’m going to make a phone call.”
“Sounds good. Let me know if there’s anything I can pick up for you.”
“No, I got this car finished. Thank you.”
Dean went into his office and sat down behind his desk. For a moment, he just held his head in his hands, wishing things were different and he didn’t have to disappoint Noelle. She didn’t deserve to have him let her down. She deserved someone who could be there for her whenever she needed it, and he wished he had the strength to be that man for her.
He cleared his throat, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Noelle’s number, realizing that his heart was thumping as he listened to it ring.
“Hey, Dean!” She sounded eager and happy, and his heart ached, knowing he was about to disappoint her. “What’s up? I’m so excited about our date tonight.”
He winced. “Noelle, I—I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to go to the cabaret with you tonight.”
There was a long pause, and Dean held his breath. He wished he knew what she was thinking, or even that he could see her face in that moment.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft. She sounded as though she was trying to conceal her disappointment, or perhaps trying not to cry. “Are you feeling okay?” She sounded so disappointed when she said it that he swallowed, worried that his condition was pushing her away from him.
“No, I’m feeling okay,” he lied. “It’s just that we’re so busy in the shop tonight. We had a couple of emergency requests come through today, and we’ve got to get them done before tomorrow. People need the cars for work, and it’s safety issues, like brakes.” There was a pause, and when she didn’t say anything, he added, “I’m so sorry, Noelle. I really wanted to go with you tonight.”
“Can’t the other mechanics fix the cars?” she asked. “Or—you have those loaner cars, right? For the people whose cars have to be in the shop for a while? Can’t they use those?”
“Well, they asked us to do them tonight, and—” He cleared his throat. “I hate to ask the other guys to come in on a night they weren’t scheduled and—” His voice trailed off. He’d been hoping she would see the car repairs he’d invented as important and a proper excuse for missing their date, but it was clear she didn’t.
“That’s fine, Dean,” she said in a tone that made it clear she didn’t think it was fine at all. She sounded close to tears. “I understand that your work is very important to you. You can give me a call back when you’re able to make time in your schedule to actually connect with me.”
Before he could say anything else, she hung up. Dean sat at his desk feeling stung and guilty and disappointed. His hands shook as he set his phone down, and he sank deeper into his chair, feeling heavy with fatigue.
He felt bad that he’d lied to her, especially because it had made her feel as though she just wasn’t as important to him as his work was. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but he’d been afraid to confess the reality of his exhaustion to her. He was worried that her knowing that his illness had made him too tired to go on their date would make her pull away from him.
She might not want to be with someone who was so frequently hindered by physical ailments. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of her, or unable to do basic, easy things like go out to dinner and watch a show.
Slowly, he stood up and made his way out of his office. He drove home carefully, wrestling with his thoughts until he’d gotten into his pajamas and climbed into bed. The moment he closed his eyes, he was sound asleep.
“What about the breaded shrimp? Try it with some of the secret sauce.”
Vivian chuckled as Julia pushed a dish of breaded shrimp toward Alexis, who was eyeing it doubtfully. The three of them were seated together at a booth in The Lighthouse Grill. They’d been working together that afternoon, and it had been a long and hectic day, although also a fun one. Now that the pub was closed, they were eating dinner together, and Alexis had started working on one of her handmade jewelry projects.
Although Julia and Vivian had regular meals in front of them—Vivian had a bowl of clam chowder and a turkey sandwich and Julia had a grilled cheese with a side of coleslaw—Alexis was surrounded by lots of different small dishes. She had a side of peas, a side of fries, a side of breaded shrimp, a side of mashed potatoes, a side of nachos, and a cup of tomato soup, among other things. So far, she hadn’t found the thing she was mysteriously craving.
“Should we take a picture of you working for your jewelry website?’ Vivian asked. “Or your Instagram?”
Alexis laughed. “Yes. Me, surrounded by various snacks, since I can’t decide what on earth it is I want to eat.” She dipped one of the breaded shrimp into a dish of the secret sauce and tried it. Her eyebrows rose appreciatively. “Hey! That’s really— no, it’s not right. Almost, but I’m craving something else.” She sighed.
“Too bad we ran out of peanut butter,” Julia teased, shaking her head.
Alexis made a face at her sister. “Oh, come on. Wait, did we run out of peanut butter?”
“Not just the pub, the whole of Rosewood Beach. There’s no more peanut butter anywhere.”
Alexis threw a balled-up napkin at her sister.
Vivian laughed. “I’m not joking about the picture, I think it might be a fun addition to your website. It shows people how dedicated you are. Besides, you look very pretty with your flushed cheeks. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy glow or the fact that you got so much exercise helping all those customers earlier.”
Alexis shrugged. “Who knows? Thanks for the compliment, Mom. You’re right. Let’s take a picture. My Instagram followers would love to hear about my struggles with cravings, I’m sure. Maybe they’ll even comment and give me some advice.”
Vivian took a few pictures of Alexis smiling while she made her jewelry. Although her smile was warm and genuine, Alexis’s years of modeling work were apparent because she immediately “turned on” for the camera.
“Those look great,” Julia said eagerly, looking over Vivian’s shoulder. Julia was seated next to her mother since Alexis’s side of the table was crowded with snack dishes and jewelry-making supplies. “And it’s a good shot of the earrings you’re making too. They look beautiful.”
Alexis flushed at the praise. “Thanks, Julia. This is my most popular style. I’ve sold more earrings than anything else, although the necklaces and rings are popular too.”
Vivian patted her daughter’s hand. She was proud of the way Alexis had turned her jewelry-making hobby into a side business. Grayson, who had a great head for business, had helped Alexis out a great deal, but Vivian knew it was her daughter’s knack for creating beautiful things that had really made her online jewelry store so successful.
“Ah, I loved a grilled cheese.” Julia closed her eyes and savored the taste of her grilled cheese sandwich, which had been filled with tomato slices, basil leaves, and fried onions. “I saw a recipe online for one with apple slices in it, and I think it sounds divine.”
Alexis perked up. “Apples?” She looked over all of the snack dishes she had in front of her until she found a dish of apple slices drizzled in caramel. She bit into one of them, looking hopeful. In the next moment, she sighed. “No. That’s not what I want either.”
Julia chuckled. “I guess we get to help Alexis finish all these yummy snacks, Mom. At least, once she knows what she wants, that is.”
“I may never know.” Alexis laughed. “I think I’m going to be grazing indecisively from now until the baby is born.”
For a while, the three of them sat in companionable silence, munching their food. Julia took out the local newspaper and started to read it, and Alexis continued to work on her earrings. Left to her own thoughts, Vivian’s mind wandered to Alan, and she found herself reminiscing about the last time he’d been in The Lighthouse Grill.
He’d loved the Monte Cristo sandwich she’d brought him, saying that it was even better than the first one she’d given him. He’d expressed his admiration for the secret sauce again, hinting that he’d love to know how it was made. She’d refused to give him the recipe, but as she sat next to her daughters, swirling a sweet potato fry in the dish of secret sauce, she let herself imagine the two of them in her kitchen at home, cooking together. Maybe then she would let him in on the family secret. Maybe if he was treating her as though he wanted to become part of the family someday…
Vivian was startled out of her reverie by the sound of Julia gasping.
“What is it, honey?” she asked, turning to her daughter with concern.
“Look at this,” Julia said, pointing to an article in the newspaper. “Yet another article about the McCormicks.”
Vivian glanced at the newspaper for a moment, and then shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll bother reading it. I have a good mind not to read the paper anymore, as it only causes unnecessary upset—at least when the McCormicks are involved in the news.”
Julia pushed the newspaper toward her mother. “I understand, but you really need to read this. It says they’re expanding from producing mostly beer to having a full-fledged kitchen and food menu.”
Vivian’s eyebrows rose, and Alexis leaned forward with interest.
“Is that why he wanted our location so badly?” Alexis asked, frowning. “He’d seemed so dead-set on buying it from us when he thought we were in too much financial trouble from Dad’s gambling debts. Does he want a restaurant like ours?”
Julia shrugged. “I guess he wants a restaurant of some kind, anyway. Seems kind of silly to me. The McCormicks are already making more than enough money. Why do they feel they need to expand into a restaurant?”
“Because Judd McCormick has decided he wants to compete with us in every way possible,” Alexis said, making a face. “Honestly, the nerve of that man.”
Vivian simply smiled. “The McCormicks can do whatever they like on their own property and with their own company. It’s none of my business. I have better things to think about.”
“Yeah?” Julia grinned, beginning to look a bit conspiratorial. “Any chance you’re thinking about a certain car salesman who has been frequenting our restaurant of late? A car salesman who has a preference for Monte Cristo sandwiches?”
Vivian felt her cheeks flush with warmth, and she cleared her throat. “What car salesman?”
Alexis laughed. “Oh, come on, Mom! Alan. He seems pretty friendly with you.”
“Does he?” Vivian’s heart leapt up. “I mean, I’m sure he’s that friendly with everyone.”
“I’m not sure he’s that friendly with everyone.” Alexis shook her head. “He seems to always make a point of talking with you, Mom.”
“He’s an attractive man,” Julia said, her eyes dancing. “A silver fox, if you will. He’s got great charisma.”
“Does he?” Vivian cleared her throat again, making a high-pitched noise. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Alexis and Julia looked at each other and started to laugh. Vivian couldn’t help herself and started to chuckle right along with them.
“Oh, you’re right.” She bit her lip, feeling bashful and bubbly. “He is nice. He’s been helpful, and he’s always polite, and?—”
“You like him!” Julia exclaimed, delighted. “Come on, Mom, admit it.”
Vivian bit her lip. “I… admire him. I think he’s a kind, pleasant person.” After a pause, her tone became more earnest. “Does that bother the two of you? The idea of me being interested in someone other than your father?”
“No.” Alexis reached across the table and took her mother’s hand. “It’s weird, I can’t lie about that, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while, actually. I want you to be happy again. You’re still a very attractive woman, Mom, and you’ve got a lot of life left to live. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t find another partner to go through life with.”
Tears welled up in Vivian’s eyes, and she squeezed her daughter’s hand in return. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve been worried it was selfish of me to want to start dating again, but I did have a similar conversation with Hazel, and she said basically what you’re saying. That she wants me to be happy.”
“I agree,” Julia said, giving her mother a sideways hug. “And I’m sure Dean would agree with us. We all want you to be happy. So… are you saying you’re interested in dating Alan?”
Vivian coughed gently. “I didn’t say that. But, well… I suppose I wouldn’t mind if something came of it.”
Alexis chortled and dipped a regular French fry into the secret sauce. In the next moment, her face lit up with an expression of delight. “Hey! That’s it!” Clearly thrilled, Alexis began to chow down on the rest of the French fries, giving each one a generous dip into the secret sauce before popping it into her mouth.
Vivian and Julia laughed, glad that Alexis had finally found something to satisfy her cravings—at least for the moment. Vivian felt a surge of happiness, thankful that she had such wonderful children who were so kind and supportive. She also couldn’t help feeling a little excited about the prospect of what they’d talked about coming true.
What if Alan really did ask her out on a date?