Chapter Four
F inally.
Jovi settled with her family around their favorite table beside the front window at Trailside, Evergreen’s iconic diner.
The brutal trip from Kansas City, including navigating last night’s storm with the persnickety rule-following Burke Solomon, had been worth it.
Because she’d been reunited with her favorite people.
There wasn’t an empty booth in the dining area or a vacant stool at the L-shaped counter.
Conversation ebbed and flowed as the servers hurried from the kitchen to tables, serving up hearty breakfasts, coffee and fresh pastries.
Yawning, Jovi reached for the steaming mug of coffee Mom had filled from the carafe, then cast an appreciative glance around the restaurant. “What do you know about Lois and Mac Phillips’s nephew?”
Mom’s spoon clattered to the speckled beige Formica table, spattering droplets of coffee on Dad’s plaid flannel shirt. Isabel, Mom and Dad exchanged pensive looks.
Huh. Interesting.
“Sore subject?” Jovi paused with her coffee halfway to her lips.
“Grammie and Lois were the best of friends,” Mom said quietly, dabbing a paper napkin against Dad’s sleeve.
Jovi swallowed the first sip of the rich house blend, letting it warm her insides. “So I’ve heard. But I never understood why they stopped speaking, although that might be the reason why I didn’t know Lois and Mac had nephews.”
Isabel’s phone hummed on the table. She glanced at the screen, huffed out a long breath, then scooped up the device and deposited it in her handbag.
“Everything okay?” Mom asked.
“That was Mason. He’s… Never mind.” Isabel’s tight smile and dismissive shake of her head earned a curious arched eyebrow from their mother. Ignoring her, Isabel shifted her attention back to Jovi. “What brought this on? Your interest in the Phillips family, I mean.”
“I rode into town with Burke Solomon last night,” Jovi said. “He mentioned fond memories of his childhood visits to Evergreen with his aunt Lois and uncle Mac.”
Dad leaned back as their server brought their order to the table. Once she’d departed, they joined hands, and he offered a quick blessing.
After he finished, Jovi unwrapped the paper napkin and cutlery. “Do you remember anything about Mac and Lois’s nephews?”
Dad added a dollop of butter to his toast. “Vaguely. I think they came with their mother, often around Christmas or to celebrate the New Year.”
Isabel topped off her coffee. “The older brother is named Shane.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Charlie Schumacher is their family’s point of contact.
” Isabel sprinkled pepper on her scrambled eggs.
“I was in line behind him at the grocery store before Christmas and overheard him talking on the phone. Then he hung up and told his girlfriend that Mac and Lois’s nephew planned to move into their cabin after the holidays. ”
Jovi sliced her utensils through her ham and cheese omelet. “So what you’re saying is, if I want more details, just hang out at the grocery store?”
“The electric company might be a better option,” Isabel said. “Those ladies know everything.”
“Burke and his family must not have visited often, because he didn’t know how to drive in the snow, and we can’t recall seeing them around town,” Jovi said. “Which is odd, because his whole reason for moving here seems to center around his nostalgic memories.”
“For as long as I’ve been alive my folks made it clear we weren’t supposed to speak to Lois, Mac, or anyone at their house,” Dad said. “My mother was adamant Lois could not be trusted.”
“But Lois and Mac volunteered at church and kept score at basketball games. People around town really seemed to love them,” Jovi said.
“And they lived down the road from your parents for years, so how did Grammie and Lois go from being best friends to not speaking to one another, when they were neighbors?”
Dad shrugged and plucked a slice of bacon from his plate.
“I realize Grammie isn’t her usual self,” Jovi said gently. “I would never want to do anything to upset her or make her memory loss more traumatic, but this guy moving here as a single dad because he remembers good candy and homemade marshmallows… It’s super intriguing.”
Thoughts of Burke’s piercing gaze and Darby Jane’s grateful expression when she’d been reunited with Bobo at the airport spooled through her head. Two highlights from an otherwise miserable travel day. She quickly diverted her attention to her scrumptious breakfast.
“Where did they move from?” Dad picked up his glass of orange juice. “And what does he do for a living if he can afford to move here?”
“Good questions.” Jovi swallowed a bite of her omelet, then set her fork down and pulled her phone from her purse. “They came from Charleston, South Carolina. I meant to do some investigating last night, but I was way too tired.”
“South Carolina?” Isabel’s brow furrowed. “That’s a long way to go, especially with a kid. Is the wife coming later?”
The first image that popped up from her internet search featured a beautiful woman leaving a historic-looking home. Jovi scanned the caption and article. “Whoa. Apparently, he’s a best-selling author. I had no idea. Have you ever heard of him, Dad? He writes thrillers.”
“Nope. Never have.” Dad’s eyebrows slanted. “Last name is Solomon?”
Nodding, Jovi scrolled on. “Hmm. That’s odd. Seems like he’s caught up in some sort of scandal. Evidently, there’s some speculation about him having an affair or something.”
“Well, I’m not surprised.” Dad shook his head. “Like I said, my folks did not trust Lois and Mac or their extended family.”
Wow, he’d jumped to conclusions quickly. Disappointment tightened Jovi’s stomach. “Just because the guy’s had some tough times doesn’t mean that he’s bad news. We don’t know what happened with him or with Lois and Mac and your parents.”
“Since when do you defend somebody that you shared a ride with for a few hours?” Isabel scoffed. “He’s moved as far as possible from his hometown without actually leaving the country, in the middle of winter, with a little kid. That definitely raises some caution flags.”
Jovi hesitated. “You’re not wrong. I just—”
“Let’s get back on track here. Thanks for picking up that part.” Dad patted her hand. “Hopefully, we’ll get it installed, and the pulling machine will be up and running by lunchtime.”
Mom’s phone hummed with an incoming call. She glanced at it. “Oh, this is the administrative assistant for the owner of Schmidt’s Chocolates.”
Jovi’s breath caught. They made phenomenal chocolate. “She calls you, like, directly? How often?”
Mom hesitated, then let the phone remain on the table until it stopped ringing.
“Why didn’t you answer it?” Isabel asked.
“Because I want us to have a conversation as a family before I take another call or schedule another meeting. Your father and I want to sell. Ideally before the first of June.”
Isabel gasped. “This June?”
A knot lodged in Jovi’s throat. Surely they didn’t mean that. June was less than five months away.
“We understand that this will be hard for both of you,” Mom said. “But that’s where we stand.”
“It’s time for us to do other things,” Dad added.
“Like what?” Jovi winced. Boy, that came out harsher than she’d intended.
Dad shot her a pointed look. “Travel without being responsible for processing thousands of pounds of cocoa powder every year, maintaining equipment, or creating a sustainable product line. Life is short, and when health issues arise they can be costly. Selling the company will give us a cushion to pay for your grandmother’s care and set aside extra for our own needs.
We don’t want you girls to have to worry about us.
My father’s death and Mom having to move into the memory care facility have caused us to reevaluate what truly matters.
” He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Mom’s forehead.
“Candy isn’t what makes our world go round. At least not anymore.”
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Jovi said. “But I’m not willing to sell.”
Her sister tipped her chin up, determination flashing in her eyes. “Me either.”
Dad’s expression turned sober. “Here’s the bottom line—declining sales can’t be ignored. Not for two consecutive quarters, anyway.”
Jovi folded her hands in her lap so they didn’t see her trembling. “What if we can come up with a new product? Something that will turn things around?”
Mom frowned. “I admire your optimism, but frankly, I don’t think that’s possible.”
Ouch. “Will you at least give me—” she shot Isabel a quick glance “—give us the opportunity to try?”
Dad and Mom exchanged glances. “All right,” Dad said. “You have until Memorial Day to come up with something and demonstrate through focus group feedback that its popularity justifies declining reasonable offers to sell the company.”
Jovi thrust out her hand. “Deal.”
Something undecipherable flashed in her father’s eyes. Then he smiled and shook her hand.
An icy ball of fear settled in her stomach. What had she done?
* * *
“Daddy, I’m freezing.” Darby Jane tugged the hood of her lavender jacket with the fur trim up over her tangled hair.
Her whole body trembled as she stood inside the doorway of Uncle Mac and Aunt Lois’s dilapidated cabin.
He’d struggled to convince her to leave the warmth and comfort of their motel room where they’d spent the night.
“I know, sweetheart.” He tugged his knit hat down over his ears. “We’re going to make it warmer soon.”
Although he didn’t even know where to begin.
He eyed the black woodstove in the corner of the living room.
How had this place become so neglected? The tipped-over dining room chair with the broken leg, dust on the sheets draped over the sofa, and the uncomfortably cold air chilling his bare face made the beautiful cabin from his childhood memories feel the opposite of cozy.