4. Caleb
Caleb
After running back home and grabbing Noelle’s art stuff, I stopped by the bed-and-breakfast to do a repair on the garden gate for Fiona.
She often refused my help, but after getting locked out of her garden, she relented and let me build her a new one.
My last task was installing the lock. When I finally made it to Bar, Nicky had already stocked the coolers and wiped down the counter.
School approaching meant busy nights were ahead.
Everybody was trying to hold on to summer’s reign.
Fridays seemed like everybody twenty-one and over made their way to Bar. I was grateful because owning a business, especially a small business, was not for the faint of heart. Like Ms. Kenzie pointed out, I was haggard as a result.
A few of the regulars were already here, including Dirty Al, who was a retired baseball player.
He was a bigshot pitcher in his prime, had million-dollar deals and his whole life ahead of him until he tore his UCL.
Dirty Al refused to get Tommy John surgery and faded out of the spotlight.
He blew through his money and had no family to fall back on.
Apparently, all his friends from baseball didn’t want to know him once he quit the league.
He retired early to Grand Haven, bought a house at the end of the hill, and now frequented my bar daily to drown his sorrows.
Nora was sitting in her corner eating a burger and fries with a soda before her night shift at one of the factories. I also waved to Mr. Jones, who swore up and down that our Bloody Marys were the only thing that cured his migraines.
“Late start today?” Nicky asked as I stepped behind the bar and grabbed a rag to wipe down the espresso machine. Dirty Al would have one after his beer, no doubt.
“Noelle forgot her paints. I also installed that lock at Fiona’s and she insisted I have coffee with her. Of course, I had to go to the coffee shop and get it, but now I’m here. I brought you a cinnamon roll.”
He smirked. “Sounds rough, CJ.”
Nicky was a taller guy with a muscular build.
He had a buzz cut and always wore polos.
His vibe was preppier than the rest of us.
While Nicky’s face was serious, when you got to know him, you’d learn he was actually very kind, although he was still soft spoken.
I always teased him about his shy demeanor.
“You have no idea.” I leaned against the bar, watching as Mr. Jones turned a page in his newspaper. “Anything I need to know?”
“Yeah, that band is coming in tonight. Remember you told them they could do a set?”
I threw my head back and groaned. “That’s tonight?”
Nicky nodded. “I don’t know why you agreed to have an amateur band play on a Friday night.”
“A group of high schoolers cornered me outside the coffee shop, asking for a chance. They are seniors. It will be like a welcome back gift.”
“Charity is more like it,” Nicky said and headed toward the walk-in.
By mid-afternoon, the bar had settled into its usual calm before the storm. The regulars nursed their drinks, the jukebox hummed along softly in the background, and I found myself falling into the familiar rhythm of wiping down glasses and making small talk.
My mother and Noelle strolled in around four, carrying a plate of food. At her insistence, my mother brought me a homemade dinner.
“Hi, honey,” she greeted, leaning to kiss me on the cheek with her peach-colored lipstick. “Noelle helped me make chicken pot pie.”
As I thanked my mother, Noelle settled into her usual corner booth, flipping through a book.
Every so often, she’d glance up and watch the room like she was cataloging everything—who came in, who left at what time, what drinks they ordered.
She got that from me. Always watching, always paying attention.
Watching her learn the world around her was special to me.
I couldn’t imagine not being there for my daughter, even if I had to give up certain experiences.
Before Noelle was conceived, I was in a master’s program on track to get a business degree.
After I graduated high school, I went to Grand Haven’s Community College and worked at Bar before Owen, the previous owner and my mentor, encouraged me to try business school.
He had some kind of sixth sense that I would benefit from the experience.
I was twenty-two years old and in the big city alone for the first time in my life.
Not long after classes started, I met Roxy, who was also a business major.
Our relationship started as friends with benefits, but we soon spent so much time together, it only made sense to use the titles boyfriend and girlfriend.
Despite becoming exclusive, we never had plans to start a family.
There was a reason people always said, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.
” Right before Roxy was about to take a job on Wall Street, she found out she was pregnant and all those plans had to be adjusted.
If she didn’t get pregnant, we wouldn’t have made it another month. We wanted different things. She wanted the fast-paced city life and I longed to own a business in Grand Haven. After talking things over, Roxy decided we could try small-town living at least until the baby was born.
Things were rough. We moved in with my mom.
Money was always an issue, despite me working round the clock at the bar.
To help save as much as I could, I also did odd jobs around the town, learning any skill I could to make a buck to support our baby girl.
Roxy insisted she try her hand at being a stay-at-home mom.
When I suggested she work part-time, she said I was doubting her capabilities and assured me that she was top of her class and “good at everything.” So I supported her fully.
When she had bad morning sickness during her pregnancy, I worked more to cover the bills because she sacrificed a lot by moving home for me.
Noelle arrived on Christmas Day during a bad snowstorm.
Luckily, Nicky used his plow to dig us out so we could make it to the hospital.
After Noelle was born, Roxy and I fought constantly.
She wanted to move back to the city. She hated that we lived with my mother, so I did handyman jobs along with working the bar to save extra money for a house.
She thought small-town life was too boring, and her worst fear was getting stuck here.
Roxy was always saying how being in Grand Haven plateaued her potential and robbed her of the opportunities her friends were experiencing.
I wanted Noelle to have a similar childhood to my own and I didn’t have any jobs lined up in the city.
We had help and support in Grand Haven. Her parents lived on the West Coast and they weren’t close.
She would often say how she regretted her decision of moving for me and eventually resented both me and Noelle for it.
Being a hotshot with a corner office was all she longed for, and she secretly applied for jobs while Noelle napped.
She wanted a life I couldn’t give, one filled with money and excitement.
Roxy was gone by the time Noelle was six months old.
She got her dream job working on Wall Street and popped in once a year.
The bell rang, breaking me out of my thoughts. Ms. Kenzie entered the bar, carrying a tray covered in foil. “Anne, I’ve called you all morning. Where the hell have you been?”
My mother rolled her eyes. “We spoke this morning, Kenzie.”
“I’ll have an Arnold Palmer, CJ,” Ms. Kenzie said over her shoulder as she bickered with my mother about old age and forgetfulness.
Once my mother left to help one of the artists at her gallery, I asked Ms. Kenzie, “What’s in the tray?”
She set it on the counter with a satisfied sigh. “Berry cobbler. Figured you might want some.”
I shook my head, amused. “You do realize this is a bar, right? Not your bakery?”
Ms. Kenzie gave me a pointed look. “Funny. I already brought the extras from the bakery to the shelter, but we had a lot left over. Why let it go to waste?”
She ran a homeless shelter with an iron fist one town over. Seeing people struggling to survive wasn’t an easy feat, after all.
Volunteering was something my mother instilled in me.
She’d taught me that even at our lowest moments, somebody always had it worse, so we had to do whatever we could to help those in need.
Over the years, I’d made it a habit to take Noelle at least twice a month to the shelter.
I wanted to show her the value of hard work and how to treat others with kindness and not judgment or entitlement because of their circumstances.
It wasn’t all work, though. She’d also socialize with some of the children, bringing toys or art supplies to share.
I didn’t want her to take anything for granted.
Noelle perked up when she heard Ms. Kenzie’s voice. “Can I have a piece?”
“Of course, sugar. You’re my official taste-tester.” She scooped some cobbler onto a paper plate and handed it to her.
Noelle grinned and dug in, making a satisfied hum after the first bite. “So good. Nicky, come taste a piece.” My daughter ran off to give Nick some cobbler.
Ms. Kenzie patted my arm. “CJ, when are you gonna let me set you up with someone?”
I groaned. Here we go again. “Come on.”
“Oh, please. A man like you shouldn’t be alone.” She winked. “And don’t argue with me. I have a list!”
“A list?”
Ms. Kenzie smirked. “A whole list of eligible women in this town who’d be lucky to have you.”
Noelle ran up to us with a mischievous look on her face. “Nicky said he doesn’t like berry cobbler.”
“Nicholas!” Ms. Kenzie went to give poor Nick a piece of her mind, and cobbler.
Jena popped into the bar a little while later and gave her mother house keys she apparently forgot at the bakery. She spotted me and marched right over.
“Well, if it isn’t the town’s most eligible bachelor,” she teased, stopping in front of me.
I sighed. “Not you too. I thought you were on my side.”
“Semantics. You’re going to get set up whether you like it or not.”
I crossed my arms. “Pretty sure that’s not how dating works.”
“Have you met my mother?”
Before I could respond and warn her that Ms. Kenzie had an inkling about her and Keith, Noelle ran over to give me a hug. “Bye, Daddy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I bent down to kiss her cheek. “I love you. Have a good time and be good for Ms. Kenzie.”
“CJ.” Ms. Kenzie nodded and headed for the door. “Jena, help Noelle gather her things. I’ll meet you guys in the car.”
Before I knew it, every stool was occupied, the booths were full, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air.
Nicky walked out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of food. “Hope you’re ready for your next special. Pizza bites!”
I grabbed a pizza bite and got to work, pouring drinks and running food orders, barely catching my breath between customers.
Somewhere in the middle of it, the energy in the room changed. A shift was clear and I couldn’t quite place why. I didn’t notice her right away, not until Max burst into the back stockroom, grinning from ear to ear, like a schoolboy with a prepubescent crush.
Curious, I followed him back to the front, and that was when I saw her.
She stood in the middle of the bar, clearly out of place.
Like she had fallen in the middle of Grand Haven from somewhere more glamorous than this.
Her hair was a golden shade of blonde, cascading down in messy yet soft waves.
It was as though she stepped out of a magazine.
Her clothes were too fancy, tailored and no doubt expensive, not practical for my small bar setting.
Her posture was sophisticated like she was trained to be intentional with every movement she made.
It seemed like she didn’t even realize how many people turned to chance a glance at her.
I had no idea who she was or what she wanted, but somehow, I knew life was about to get a whole lot messier.