4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
“ H ey, Jackson, what are you doing here?”
“When’s your mother coming back?”
“Jackson, what are you doing with the old restaurant?”
The next day, Jackson smiled and greeted the residents of Bayberry. He had forgotten how inquisitive the citizens of Bayberry could be. Almost every person he passed on his way to get a cup of coffee from the Steaming Brew asked about him and his mother. Some were more forward than others. He did his best to give friendly but vague answers.
The biggest problem was that responding to one question only led to another question. With each inquiry, the questions grew more personal and more uncomfortable for him. He couldn’t blame them for being curious. After all, it had been years since he’d spent more than a week in Bayberry. Until this emergency happened, he’d been so focused on his rising career that he had lost sight of his roots. Guilt heaped on to his already burdened shoulders.
But he couldn’t tell anyone where his mother truly was. He’d promised her that if she got treatment, he would keep it a secret. She was keeping up her end of the agreement, so now he had to keep up his end of it. The only way for him to do that was to keep to himself—and to straighten out her finances to the best of his ability.
The sun was barely above the horizon as he made his way back to his rental car with a cup of hot coffee in hand. He was curious to see Carrie’s chocolate shop. Sure, he’d been past it numerous times since he’d been in town, but now that he knew it was hers, he would give it a closer look.
When he approached the front of the building, he glanced in the rearview mirror. No one was behind him. He pressed the brakes.
He noticed how she’d had the exterior painted a warm chocolate brown. The sign above the front door was done in shades of brown, pink, and gold. He wasn’t normally a big fan of pink, but in this case, he really liked it. It was classy. And it reminded him of Carrie because pink was her favorite color.
His gaze lowered to the showroom window. It was there he found a collage of chocolate displays. It was quite artistic and made him want to take a closer look.
There was a big shelving unit with square openings. In each one, she’d displayed the chocolate in various ways. In one there was chocolate on a small plate next to a china cup. In another, there was an open book next to a tea cup on a saucer with chocolate on the edge of the saucer. Near the top of the display were red foil-covered heart-shaped boxes of varying sizes. They were each filled with chocolates. There was so much to choose from it was really quite impressive.
Maybe an even closer look was in order. He pulled off to the side of the road and parked. He crossed the road and moved toward the front door. When he reached for the handle, the door wouldn’t budge. It was only then he noticed the Closed sign. He sighed as he lowered his hand.
He turned and headed toward the vacant side of the building. As he made his way around to the back, he told himself it was probably for the best that the chocolate shop was closed. The less he saw of Carrie, the better. Because all of the time apart hadn’t gotten him over her. And his visit was complicated enough without trying to deny his feelings for her—feelings she’d never reciprocated.
He had to stay focused on helping his mother. Because come February 15, he was headed overseas once more. When his mother finished her treatment, she would come join him in Europe so he could be there for her, and there wouldn’t be a repeat of this disaster.
When he reached the alley, he paused at the backdoor to grab his keys. It was then he heard a woman’s voice. She was singing along with the radio. Could it be Carrie?
His list of things to do slipped to the back of his mind as he strolled over to the door that was cracked open. He peered inside to find Carrie with her back to him. He couldn’t make out what she was working on, but she had a large bowl on the stainless-steel counter, and she was stirring the contents.
Beep. Beep. Beep...
She rushed over to one of the ovens and opened the door. At that moment another timer went off.
Maybe this wasn’t the best time to disturb her. As much as he wanted to talk to her, he quietly walked away. He felt like he’d been walking away from a lot of things in his life. His excuse, as always, was that he didn’t have time for a personal life because of his demanding job.
And his career had been great. He’d worked his way up in the software company, and he was now the boss in their biggest European office. He had everything he could want, except for one thing—a family.
When he was so busy fulfilling his five-year plan, there was never time left for a wife and children. He told himself he’d get to it someday, but he felt as though he were running out of time to make it happen. Sure, he knew that men could have children well into their senior years, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to be young enough to throw the ball around, to play tag in the backyard, and to carry his children around on his shoulders. He intended to be an involved parent.
Every time he thought about what type of partner he wanted to settle down with, Carrie’s image came to mind. She was kind and thoughtful. She had always been the first person to cheer him on when he faced a challenge, and she had provided a sympathetic ear when one of his grand ideas blew up in his face.
Even if she hadn’t rejected his kiss all of those years ago, it wouldn’t have worked. The problem with them being anything more than friends was that his career took him away from Bayberry. And Carrie loved this small town. She loved the traditions and routines. Just seeing her now in her chocolate shop, he had never seen her look happier.
He unlocked the back door to the vacant shop. He just needed to concentrate on fixing his mother’s life before he had to return to London.
Buzz. Buzz.
He sighed. His phone had been ringing all morning since London was five hours ahead of Bayberry. He’d been answering the calls, but this time he sent the call to voicemail.
He grabbed his tools. When the world felt out of control, working with his hands let him feel in control of something—no matter how small it might be.
Right now, his personal world felt as though it were spinning out of control. He had no idea his mother had been spiraling. She had become quite good at hiding what was going on in her life. He had a feeling his mother even hid the severity of her situation from herself. Well, she had until the ramifications of her situation were unavoidable.
Even with the lights on, the old restaurant was full of shadows. Luckily, he’d planned ahead and had bought a couple of standing work lights. He plugged them in as well as his old boombox. After adjusting the lights, he turned on the music and adjusted the radio station. Music from when he was a teenager with the world ahead of him began to play.
He reached for the Sawzall. No sooner had he started the saw when the power went out. The whole storefront was plunged into total darkness. He couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face.
He muttered under his breath as he stumbled around, tripping over one of the light stands. He caught his balance before he hit the floor. It looked like this place was going to need more work than he could do on his own. He would be calling an electrician once he got the power on again.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. His fingers moved rapidly over the screen. And then there was light.
At the same moment, the back door swung open. He turned to see who it was.
“Hey! You’re blinding me,” a female voice called out.
Jackson lowered his phone. He’d know that voice anywhere. It was Carrie. He also heard a note of annoyance in her tone.
“Sorry,” he said. “The lights went out.”
“I know.”
He approached her. “How do you know?”
“Because the power is out in the chocolate shop.” She crossed her arms and frowned at him.
“Oh.” So, this electrical problem was worse than he thought. “I wonder why it affected your place.”
“Because the two shops share the same breaker box.”
“No. That doesn’t make any sense.” It was impossible. No one would wire the place like that.
“Well, it’s true. It’s over here.” She led the way.
He knew where it was, but he quietly followed her. Before he could reach to open the breaker box, Carrie opened it.
“Shine your phone over here,” she said.
He wasn’t quite sure where she wanted him to aim the light, so he stepped right up behind her. He was so close, in fact, that he got a whiff of her strawberry shampoo. Mmm… He inhaled deeper. He knew he’d never smell strawberries again without thinking of her.
“Hold up the light.” Her voice drew him from his meandering thoughts.
He raised his arm higher. Trying to keep his thoughts from her and how beautiful he found her, he stared at the breaker box. It was huge—far bigger than any he’d ever seen in a house.
“They aren’t marked,” she said.
“I don’t understand why your store shares a breaker box with this store.” He had a feeling there had been a lot of shortcuts taken with this very old building.
“I don’t know either. Once I figured it out, the remodel was over. I was told it would cost a fortune to rewire the chocolate shop. I never thought anyone would be moving in to this space, since it’s falling apart, so I let it go.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he remained quiet. He stood there while she checked the breakers one-by-one. At last, she found it. She flipped it back on. The room once more lit up and then plunged them into darkness once more.
“Here,” he said. “Let me give it a try.”
Carrie hesitated before moving aside. She let out an audible sigh. In his mind, he imagined her pressing a hand to her hips just like she did when they were teenagers and she got frustrated with him.
He flipped a breaker. The room lit up, and the music came blaring out of the boombox. “There,” he said, “all fixed.”
She frowned at him. “Nothing is fixed.”
“What do you mean?”
When she wordlessly turned and ran out the door, he was hot on her heels. He had no idea what the problem was, but he wanted to help if he could.
He followed her to the back door of the chocolate shop. She rushed over to the ovens on the far wall. She flicked on the oven light and looked through the glass.
He stepped up next to her. “What are you making?”
“Graham crackers.”
“Really? I thought this was a chocolate shop, not a bakery.”
“Yes, really. I came in early to make them, and now I have to hope this doesn’t ruin them.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just buy a box or two of them?”
She frowned at him. “Of course, it would, but I want to make as much of the products from scratch as I can.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is, but it’s totally worth it.” She moved around the kitchen, checking on this and moving that. She was totally in her element.
“You’re really happy here?” It wasn’t until the words crossed his lips that he realized he’d vocalized his thoughts.
She set a timer and then turned to him. “Of course I’m happy. This was my dream.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “But don’t you ever wonder what it would have been like if you’d have made another choice? You know, like moving away from Bayberry?”
“Why would I do that? I love it here.” She studied him. “What’s going on with you? Why are you over there demoing the old restaurant? And why are you visiting when your mother isn’t even in town?” She studied him, as though trying to read his mind. “Something is going on with you.”
He’d wondered how long it would take for the probing questions to start. The part that surprised him was that he wanted to open up to her, but he knew once he told her the awful story, she’d blame him as much as he blamed himself for what happened to his mother.
He wouldn’t even know where to begin the terrible tale. Perhaps the story would start when the bank contacted him because his mother wanted a second mortgage. Since he was the secondary signer on the account, he’d been alerted. Still, his mother had written off the incident as a silly mistake. He believed her. Why wouldn’t he?
Or maybe he should have suspected something when she started taking all of those bus trips. Instead, he thought it was good that she was getting out of the house and enjoying her retirement. How was he supposed to know those trips were to casinos, where she’d spent all of her savings and cash advances on her credit cards?
“Jackson?” Carrie’s voice drew him from his troubled thoughts.
He blinked and then looked at her—really looked at her. How was it possible that Carrie grew more beautiful each time he saw her? But her beauty started deep inside with her compassion and understanding. Would she understand this?
He cleared his throat. “Carrie, there’s something I need to say—”
“Carrie, I was just thinking about the peanut butter cups.”
The two voices spoke over each other. Jackson stopped speaking and turned to find a young woman at the entrance to the kitchen, shrugging off her winter coat. She looked to be a little younger than Carrie and himself.
When the woman lifted her head and found Carrie wasn’t alone, her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.”
“It’s okay,” Jackson said. “I have to go.”
While the women talked, he slipped out the back door. The interruption had saved him from making a grave error by telling Carrie how he’d failed his mother. Carrie never would have looked at him the same way, and he wouldn’t blame her.
But he would fix this. He would take his mother to Europe with him. He would find her a nice place close by his, and he would help her deal with her addiction to gambling.