Chapter 5 The Historical Society
The Historical Society
Owen couldn’t focus on the grant application in front of him.
Defeated, he slumped against the faded and cracked leather chair he should probably replace and rolled away from the desk.
He’d sequestered himself in his office at the café to work on the Historical Society renovation grant, but he was no closer to completing it than he was an hour ago when he sat down.
Or even starting it. Owen couldn’t get past the first question.
What is the proposed name of the new business?
While closing on the purchase of the Agatha Building, at no point had he thought about the name of his new business venture. The Early Bird Café was a family business passed down to him. His patrons would’ve rioted if he changed the name.
When it came to a name for a bed-and-breakfast, he drew a blank.
Instead, his mind replayed driving Ava home yesterday.
The lack of a ring on her finger, the curl of hair around her cheek, the pinch between her eyes as she stared out the truck window to avoid looking at him.
The awkwardness of the reunion wasn’t lost on him, yet it was all he could think about.
He sifted his hands through his hair and tied it into a bun. If he couldn’t make progress on the grant, then at least he could pitch in with the café. He closed the laptop with a definitive snap and left the office.
He joined the morning staff behind the counter, accepting a freshly poured cold brew from Clare with a murmured thanks.
“Hey, boss man. Done already?” Clare asked.
“Not yet. Needed a break from staring at the screen. Need a hand?” Owen took a large sip of his maple bourbon cold brew coffee. Damn, that’s good.
“We’re fine back here, but you can hit the floor and clear some tables.” Clare inclined her head toward the dining area.
“You got it.”
Owen washed his hands and slung a clean rag over his shoulder. A mixture of locals and tourists filled the dining area and patio outside. Owen spotted Pete and Harry at their usual corner table overlooking the lake, their empty coffee mugs forgotten in favor of their animated conversation.
“You boys staying out of trouble this morning?” Owen greeted the two men, clapping Harry on the shoulder.
“No more than usual,” Pete said. The two of them chuckled. Both sported long, graying beards and bald heads, though Harry preferred to keep his hidden beneath a patterned tweed cap. Today’s cap was a patchwork of varying blues and greens. It made him look friendlier than his counterpart.
“Speaking of trouble, who’s with your sister on the lake? It’s not anyone we recognize,” Harry asked with a nod at the window.
Owen followed his gaze and spotted two women lounging on the floating dock several yards offshore.
Even with their backs turned, he could pick his sister out of a lineup with her neon orange swimsuit and enormous sun hat.
The blonde beside her in the navy one-piece could be none other than his ex, Ava.
The woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, but who wanted nothing to do with him based on her reaction in the truck yesterday.
He reached for the towel on his shoulder and wiped his hands to disguise his fidgeting. “That would be Ava Hanson. You remember Gavin’s daughter?” The steadiness of his voice surprised him.
“I’ll be damned,” Harry said. He moved his cap to run at the top of his bald head. “Of course, we remember Ava. You tied yourself up in knots when that girl left every summer. Never seen two teenagers more lovesick over each other than the two of you,” Pete said.
Pete’s offhand comment hit Owen straight in the gut.
Is that what everyone in Cedar Falls thought about him?
The lovesick fool hung up on his first love that was never meant to stay?
He closed his eyes to shake off the sudden memory of Ava's accusation yesterday. What happened to leave and don’t bother coming back?
“You all right?”
Owen jolted back to the conversation with Harry’s question.
“I’m fine.” He waved off their concern and cleared his throat.
He told himself not to look out the window again, but his eyes betrayed him.
His gaze flicked to Ava’s silhouette once more.
She threw her head back in laughter, and his heart squeezed painfully.
He needed to stay busy. “You boys want refills on your coffee?”
The two men pushed their mugs toward Owen and stood from their chairs with great effort. Between Pete’s bad knee and Harry’s uneven gait, it was a production any time they had to move. That didn’t stop them from continuing to run the town’s bar, The Mucky Duck, well past retirement age.
“Nope, we should head out. Gotta get to the bar and open up. Take care, Owen.” Harry thumped him heartily on the back and shuffled away.
Pete hesitated at the table a moment longer, leaning against the back of his chair to take the weight off his knee. “For what it’s worth, Owen, we all want you to be happy.” Pete gave him a lopsided smile and patted him on the arm before following Harry.
Owen was glad he didn’t wait for a response, because he didn’t know what to say to that. He was happy. Right? He had his business and Avery. A great co-parent that was more like a best friend and a sister who drove him crazy. That was all he needed.
He dismissed notions of anything missing from his life and avoided glancing out the window while he cleared the empty table.
He worked his way through the tables, making small talk with locals and answering questions from enthusiastic tourists, using the distractions to tamp down the urge to look out the window toward the lake.
After turning over half the tables, he stepped behind the counter to gulp down his coffee and readjusted his hair out of habit.
The prospect of returning to his office to take another stab at the grant application filled him with dread.
He still didn’t have an answer to the first question.
Instead, he took another gulp of coffee and resumed circulating the floor.
“Oh, Owen—there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
Owen searched for the source of the voice, shrinking inward at the sight of Tori Wells waving from the corner table Pete and Harry had vacated. A spread of papers covered the round table, taking the space around her laptop.
Great, she was going to be here a while.
Owen forced an amiable smile. “What can I do for you, Tori?”
“I’ve been told you’re the new owner of the Agatha Building.” Her polished red nails flicked through the papers on the table, hunting for a specific document.
“That’s right. Closed on it yesterday.” He didn’t see how that was any of her business, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“Excellent, and how’s your application coming along?” She paused in her rifling. At Owen’s lack of response, she continued, “The application for the Historical Society renovation grant. You received it, right?”
Owen’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I got the application. Why do you ask?”
“I’m the new executive chairperson of the Cedar Falls Historical Society. You and I, my dear, will work very closely together on the renovation.” She flashed a coquettish smile at him, her dark red lipstick bright against her white smile.
Red was Tori’s signature color. Red hair, red lipstick, red nails—she curated her look to command attention. And it had worked on Owen a few months earlier on a lonely night after a PTA meeting at the school.
This isn’t good.
“Congratulations. I didn’t know Barbara was stepping away from the position,” Owen said.
“Why thank you. It was rather sudden. Barbara’s daughter broke her leg and needed help with the grandkids until she could get around again, so Barb rushed to Florida. Poor thing.” Her slight smile belied her true thoughts on the matter.
“That’s too bad.”
“Yes, it’s really a shame. In any case, I’ll be taking over the current and upcoming Historical Society initiatives, and your renovation is going to require all hands on deck. I hope you’re prepared to see a lot of me,” she said with a smirk.
“I look forward to it, Tori.”
He did not, in fact, look forward to it.