Chapter Two
Linus found a parking space and pulled up in front of the store. The dog next to him fidgeted, hanging his tongue out the window, and started to bark when he spotted Lake getting off her bicycle near the double doors.
“Down, boy,” Linus stated in a whisper. “Even if she is wearing my favorite yellow dress with thosepurple daisies, there’s no need to make a scene. Calm down, Farley. Don’t embarrass me.”
Without meaning to, he continued to stare at the lanky librarian—at least five-seven—until she caught his gaze, smiled, and waved back. He was amazed when she started walking toward his pickup truck.
Linus climbed out only to have Farley whimper loud enough that Lake tried to comfort the canine by sticking her hand through the open window to let the dog sniff her fingers. “Hey, Linus, how’s Farley doing?”
Standing next to her, Linus realized her eyes were more of a teal color rather than the shade of blue he remembered. He could get lost in those eyes.
“Hello, Linus, are you okay?” she asked again.
That brought him out of his muddled stupor. “Sure. I wish I could say fine. But we’re having a few issues. He’s not happy about being left alone so much. And he’s not that thrilled with getting dropped off at daycare when I’m working. How’s Scout doing?”
“She’s not quite as dramatic as this guy. But she has Jack to keep her company.”
“Jack’s your terrier mix, right?”
Lake nodded. “Jack was completely out of his puppy stage when Cord found him abandoned in a ditch outside San Sebastian. Cord estimated his age at about nine months. But even though he’d been abandoned, Jack had a sweet disposition. I urged Cord to let me name him after Jack London.”
“Ah, I get it. Scout is named for the little girl in Harper Lee’s book To Kill A Mockingbird,” Linus supplied. “I should’ve known. So, Keegan didn’t name the labradoodle puppies at all? You did.”
Lake nodded. “Using literary names or characters. Farley for Walter Farley, the man who wrote The Black Stallion and the other thirty-four books in the series. I can’t take credit for naming all the pups in the litter, just the two that became available when Keegan got in touch. I jumped at the chance to get Scout. And then you were so sweet to adopt Farley.”
“Can I just say that I don’t know how you manage with two dogs? I can barely keep Farley happy.” Linus glanced back over at the dog, trying to chew the edge of the window in the truck. “Stop that. See? He finds something to gnaw on even if I’m standing next to him. Funny how I never see you at doggie daycare.”
“That’s because my dogs have a doggie door where they can come and go while I’m at work. When I brought Scout home, Jack helped her learn the ropes. While I’m at work, she just follows Jack through the flap to get outside, where the two play in the backyard until they get tired and come back in on their own to eat or drink. They keep each other company.”
“That sounds so simple.”
Lake smiled in empathy. Feeling sorry for him, she heard herself say, “Why don’t you bring Farley by Sunday, and we’ll see if Jack can settle him down, too?”
“No dog at the daycare has been able to make that happen,” Linus cracked. “But I’m willing to try anything. Thanks. What are you here to pick up?”
“Coffee. You?”
“Cereal and milk. Some kibble for Farley. And eggs. Jeez, I might need coffee, too.”
“Sounds like this isn’t just a quick trip to the store,” Lake noted as she turned to step through the glass doors. She picked up a plastic basket for her goodies and added, “Maybe you should think about getting Farley some extra training.”
“Did you train your dogs?”
“I worked with Jack. He was easy. I will admit that having a labradoodle poses certain challenges. I had hoped Scout would lean heavier on the side of Labrador versus poodle. But her DNA shows that she’s seventy-five percent poodle, thirteen percent cocker spaniel, which we all know is a very stubborn dog, and twelve percent Labrador.”
“That almost sounds like Farley’s genetic makeup down to the letter,” Linus said, snapping his fingers and grabbing a grocery cart. “I just remembered I also need a bag of dog treats.”
She angled toward the coffee aisle and stopped. “I have several books about working with labradoodles that you might find helpful. You could stop by tonight and pick up a couple if you want. They’re mine, so you’re welcome to keep them for as long as you like.”
“I’ll do that. Is eight-thirty too late? I need to get Farley fed first.”
“No problem. While I’m here, I’ll pick up some ice cream for dessert. Who can say no to Pelican Pointe’s own ice cream maker when Murphy now carries it in pint-sized cartons these days?”
“Not me. What’s your favorite flavor?”
“I’m a sucker for butter pecan. You?”
“Not a bad choice, but I like Rocky Road or anything with chocolate and nuts in it.”
“You can never go wrong with chocolate, but I’ll see which flavors Murphy has on hand. Last time I was here, he had completely sold out of all Daniel’s flavors.”
“Hey, if you need to pick up more than coffee and ice cream, I can always give you a ride back home if you have trouble carrying groceries on your bike.”
“Thanks, Linus. I appreciate that.”
They split up, going their separate ways to pick up the items on their list.
Linus headed for dog food while Lake went straight to the coffee aisle. While Linus veered to the dairy section to grab milk and eggs, Lake got stuck mulling over ice cream flavors in the frozen food section. It didn’t take long to realize that Daniel Cardiff had changed marketing strategies. His artisanal ice cream now came packaged in colorful cartons under the label Sandcastles Ice Cream. Right away, Lake could see that Murphy had sold out of Rocky Road and butter pecan. She had to settle for birthday cake and spicy chocolate, two flavors she’d never tried.
The pair met again at checkout with Linus eyeing her basket piled high with additional items like bread and milk.
“You’ve been busy,” Linus noted.
“Just stocking up on a few necessities I decided I needed,” Lake replied with a sheepish smile. “You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I do. Running in here for one thing and grabbing six more.” He glanced at the carton of spicy chocolate ice cream in Lake’s basket. “Is that for me? Trying to spice up my life?”
Lake laughed, a warm, melodic sound that echoed through the store. “Well, I thought you might enjoy trying something other than Rocky Road. Besides, who can resist a little heat mixed with chocolate?”
Linus grinned. “You make a compelling argument. I can’t wait to give it a try.”
“Besides settling for what Murphy had in stock, I picked up a few extra treats for the dogs. Jack and Scout don’t get that many guests. I wanted to make Farley feel right at home.”
Linus chuckled and let her go first through the line. “Did I mention Farley chews everything he sees? In other words, he’ll eat anything. He’s not that picky.”
“Whenever he starts chewing something, you should try subbing it for a toy. How much time have you spent training him again?”
“All my days off,” Linus replied. “It’s not like I haven’t tried every chew toy to break him of the habit.”
Sensing his frustration, Lake paid for her groceries with a debit card and glanced back at Linus, hoping to make him feel better. “Maybe being around Scout and Jack will make a difference.”
“I’m willing to give it a shot,” Linus said as he emptied his cart onto the conveyor belt, except for the large bag of dog food.
“Why aren’t you stocking up on bags of kibble?” he asked as he swiped his debit card through the reader.
Lake lowered her voice. “Because I buy my dog food from an online supplier who delivers my order twice a month to the house. The dogs love it.”
As they made their way out of the store, Linus sighed, scratching his head thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m feeding Farley the wrong food. Sometimes he does turn up his nose at his dish.”
“That doesn’t sound like either of mine. They both lick the dish clean and look at me like, ‘Don’t I get more?’ Tell you what, I’ll give you a sample bag of the stuff I order and see if Farley likes it as much as Jack and Scout do.”
“Okay. It’s just that I see other puppies all over town, and they don’t chew on things the way Farley does. And you say you don’t have that problem with Scout, and she came from the same litter.”
“Who knows? Maybe changing his diet and socializing more with other dogs will help Farley relax and feel less anxious when he’s left alone. Sometimes, all it takes is the right companion to change their personality. Doesn’t he get plenty of socializing at doggie daycare, though?”
“Not really. Ellie says he doesn’t always do well with the other dogs. Sometimes he stays in his kennel while the others go outside and play.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. I guess we’ll see how he interacts with Scout and Jack. Bring him with you tonight when you pick up the books.”
“I was already planning to do that versus leaving him home alone. Let’s grab your bike and I’ll drop you at the house.”
After loading up her bicycle, the two added their groceries into the backseat with Farley sniffing each bag of goodies.
She pulled the seatbelt around her as Linus backed out of the parking lot and turned down Beach Street. The sun was starting to set, creating shade across the neighboring lawns.
The engine hummed softly as he maneuvered the pickup along the familiar streets. The rhythmic whirring of the tires on the concrete mirrored the beat of Lake’s restless heart.
For three long years—ever since noticing him at the bank one afternoon during her lunch hour—she’d tried everything she knew to get him to ask her out, even flirting with him at the library. At least, she thought she’d been flirting. Nothing she did seemed to work, which told her she was terrible at role-playing a seductress or trying to be any type of femme fatale. Or maybe, he just wasn’t attracted to her.
But she was here now, sitting in his pickup. Her gaze lingered on Linus, tracing his strong jawline and tousled light brown hair, her mind filled with a variety of hopeful possibilities. For so long, she had played the silent spectator, stealing glances from behind her desk at the library, dreaming of a love story that seemed to exist only in her imagination.
As they passed by rows of bungalows with blooming flower beds, Lake’s mind drifted to the countless conversations she had rehearsed in her head. She imagined each word she longed to say, planning meticulously for the day when Linus would finally notice her. Yet, time and again, her courage faltered at the last moment, leaving her tongue-tied and flustered.
Tonight, however, everything felt different. Wisps of courage coursed through her veins, emboldening her spirit. After all, she was sitting beside him in his pickup. She refused to let another day pass without taking this opportunity and running with it. Gathering her resolve, Lake steadied herself and mustered the strength to speak up.
“I love springtime,” she said. “It’s my favorite time of year. The days get longer, which means more time to spend outside doing the things I love.”
“Your front yard tells me you like to garden. Me? I kill every plant I come in contact with.”
“You just have to read up on how to take care of certain plants,” Lake reasoned. “Every plant requires something different. And I’m surrounded by a library full of gardening books, which helps. You don’t read much, do you?”
Linus frowned, an eyebrow arching in question. Sparing her a sideways glance, taking his eyes off the road, he corrected her. “What are you talking about? I love to read. Why do you say that?”
“Because you hardly ever come into the library and check out books.”
“I’m there at least once a month,” Linus insisted, not wanting to admit that coming in more often than that would certainly have given away how he felt about her, which he realized now was sort of dumb. “I come in as often as I can. When I’m not working, I’m always on call.”
“There’s a shortage of paramedics,” Lake interjected. “There was an article in the newspaper about it.”
Linus nodded, weariness in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s been a challenging time for us. The demand keeps growing, and we’re constantly stretched too thin. But I love what I do. I like to think I make a difference.”
Lake’s admiration deepened. She realized that beneath his stoic exterior, there was a compassion that fueled his work. Suddenly, her insecurities about her own unrequited feelings seemed insignificant. “I can’t imagine the pressure you must face,” she said softly.
Linus grinned. “Sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is on our shoulders, and no one appreciates what we do. Take this afternoon, for example. I found human remains at an accident site near that old bridge south of town. The bones had nothing to do with why we were called out to the scene. I followed procedure and called the sheriff’s department to come out, but when the deputy arrived, did he listen to what I had to say? Not at all. He shooed me off the beach like I had no right to an opinion or a theory.”
“They didn’t want your input. Why on earth not?”
“We’re supposed to leave the investigations to law enforcement and hope they don’t botch the evidence. That includes car accidents, too. And believe me, I’ve seen plenty of times they didn’t even get their measurements right on a routine traffic accident. That comes up in court sometimes. It bothers me they could mess this up the same way.”
“The area around that bridge is beautiful. But it can be downright spooky at night. I know because I used to drive over it almost every day, commuting to UC Santa Cruz. I still hear stories about strange encounters. Every woman I know avoids crossing that bridge, especially in the evenings. There are all kinds of stories about the area being haunted.”
Linus nodded. “I’ve heard the nurses at the hospital say the same thing. Do you believe in ghost stories?”
“I believe in ghosts,” she stated. “Everybody knows that Scott Phillips was killed in Iraq, but people still see him around Pelican Pointe. How do you explain that?”
“I can’t.” Linus pulled up into the driveway at Lake’s house and started to open the door to help her with the bike.
“This is crazy,” Lake blurted out, not wanting the conversation between them to end. “Why don’t you and Farley stay for dinner? Why wait until the weekend? You’re here now. And I have leftover spaghetti that I can heat up. You can pick up the books while you’re here.”
Linus didn’t wait for her to change her mind. “We’d love to stay for supper, but what about my groceries?”
“I do have a refrigerator,” Lake pointed out with a laugh. “There’s room for anything you bought.”
Linus chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “All right then. I’ve never been inside this place before, but I’ve always wondered what it was like.”
“It’s old,” Lake cautioned. “But to me, it’s always been home. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
He turned off the ignition and stepped out of the pickup, hurrying to the back to assist Lake with her bike.
“You get Farley and your groceries,” she suggested. “We’ll go in through the garage and into the back of the house.”
After wheeling the bicycle up to the corner of the house, she punched in a few numbers on a keypad that opened the garage door. “Dad installed a security system back when we had a rash of bike thefts. That’s before Brent Cody became police chief.”
“Are you saying he’s cleaned up the town since he took on the job?”
“I’m saying that Chief Cody takes petty crime seriously. In fact, maybe you should mention those bones you found this afternoon to him. Who knows? It could solve a missing person’s case or something.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Linus said as they walked past a VW beetle parked on one side of the garage.
“This area wasn’t part of the original floor plan,” Lake said. “It was added on in 1946 by my grandfather when he came back from the war. Prior to the war breaking out, he worked in a lumber mill as a kid, then afterward became a carpenter. Granddad knew all about the various kinds of wood available to the area. According to my grandmother, one day he got tired of his tools getting rained on out in his pickup and decided to do something about it. He wanted more space for a workshop, so he sort of combined the two ideas. An artistic, soft-spoken woodworker, that was my grandfather. He did a lot of the carved wood inside on the fireplaces, the railings, and all the doors.”
“You’re saying he put up his own garage? Did he also do the spoon-carving on the front doors?”
She raised a brow. “Not many people know about spoon-carving. But yes, he carved that for my grandmother.”
She opened the door to a large mudroom, walking past a front-loading washer and dryer set up on pedestals, a counter with cabinets, shelving, and a sink. After hanging up her keys on the peg, she bobbed her head for Linus and Farley to follow.
Linus couldn’t help but feel a wave of excitement in his chest as he stepped into the house for the first time. He had spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to have dinner with Lake, to share a meal and talk about anything and everything. And now, it seemed like his fantasy was coming true. The prospect of spending an evening with her was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. This moment had been a long time coming.
When Lake opened the door to the sunroom, a small brown and white terrier leaped off his bed with his tail wagging. In a race for attention, Jack’s speed beat the larger dog as both barreled their way in a contest to see who could say hello first.
She tittered with laughter as Scout—the apricot-colored labradoodle—skidded on the scarred maple floor past the terrier. But when both dogs spotted another buddy, they had to sniff each other until Scout yapped at her brother Farley.
“Look at that, Farley,” Linus noted. “Scout recognizes her sibling.”
Farley woofed and nuzzled the other dogs as they wrestled on the floor of the sunroom in a playful tussle.
The solarium itself offered a place to bask in the sunshine. It had floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides and not one but two stain-resistant, sink-in outdoor couches. A pair of Shaker-style bookshelves, packed with old magazines, was used as a sofa table, creating a perfect cozy spot for reading. Two huge lemon trees—grown from seeds—flanked the couch next to the window, creating shade for the dogs. Scattered throughout the room, various plants were lined up on the side tables.
At the end of the sunroom, Lake threw open a pair of French doors and led the way into a spacious kitchen that had been renovated maybe fifteen years earlier. A bank of windows on the back side of the house guaranteed plenty of morning light would reach every nook and cranny.
What had once been vintage and outdated now gleamed with stainless steel appliances. The white cabinets offered a charming focal point, but the wooden countertops, the large farmhouse sink, and a long narrow island stationed in the middle of the room promised functionality. Near the windows was the eating area. Six mismatched chairs were tucked under an old, scarred farmhouse table made from pine.
“Wow. This is larger than I thought,” Linus said, looking around.
“When I was in my teens, Dad remodeled. He drew up the plans himself inspired by an architect he bumped into at Ferguson’s Hardware. Those two put their heads together and decided to get rid of the maid’s quarters and install more floor-to-ceiling windows to get some light in here. It looked like a dungeon before the redo. He added a pantry using the combined space from the old scullery and a utility closet. The renovation turned the outdated, dreary kitchen into a place where you actually wanted to cook and then hang around to eat a meal.”
“Sounds like a big improvement,” Linus muttered as his eyes landed on the back staircase located to the right of the stove. “Didn’t those kinds of stairs used to have doors that hid the entrance?”
“Absolutely. I’m told for the first fifty years, that door always stuck, especially after an earthquake. Eventually, when my dad was a child, his dad got rid of it entirely. That’s about the time my grandfather built that railing out of wood he got for free. Notice how the oak doesn’t quite match in places.”
“You hardly notice the difference.”
“I guess it’s noticeable to me because I’m familiar with it. Anyway, when I was a kid, that staircase became the best way to secretly raid the cookie jar after midnight. I used to sneak down here and get snacks from the kitchen or scuttle around the study hunting for books to take back to bed.”
“I’m sure your dad used it for his own reconnaissance missions.”
“Oh, he did. But he didn’t admit to it until I was twelve or so.” While Linus was still taking it all in, she went to the wide commercial-size refrigerator with triple doors and pulled open the bottom freezer drawer, putting the ice cream within easy reach. From the refrigerator side, she took out a jar of homemade spaghetti sauce and placed it on the spotless counter. “You can put whatever you need on the second shelf. There’s plenty of room.”
Peering over her shoulder, Linus had never seen a refrigerator so organized. There were plastic bins and tubs for everything, and they were all neatly labeled. He felt a mixture of awe and slight anxiety. It was a stark contrast to his own attempt at keeping things in their proper place. “And I thought my OCD was a problem.”
Lake looked embarrassed. “I have this uncontrollable urge to orderly file everything away, including my fruits and vegetables. My stellar filing system is what makes me a good librarian. In keeping with full disclosure, I don’t deal with a messy, chaotic space very well. I have a place for everything and everything in its place.”
He unloaded the stuff from his grocery sacks that needed to stay cold. “Full disclosure, I can’t imagine ever achieving this level of tidiness.”
Lake’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s a gift. Or a curse, however you choose to look at it. No one’s perfect, right? Let’s get the dogs fed first and then I’ll start dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Lake reached around his body, so she could pull out the dog food from the fridge. It was a little hard to believe this man was standing in her kitchen. She did her best to switch gears. But his physique was hard to ignore. For a long time, she hadn’t tried very hard to ignore Linus Canfield, so why would she choose to do that now?
But there were other more pressing matters. Holding up the special subscription dog food, she showed off its contents. “This is the stuff that comes in pre-portioned bags. But I mix it together with a blend of dry food—vet-approved, by the way—that comes with plenty of vitamins, including all the omega-six fatty acids for a healthier dog. There’s no wheat, soy, or corn in here that just adds fillers. And by mixing them together, it doesn’t break the bank. With two dogs to feed, it makes sense to use both.”
“Show me how it’s done.”
She took out a large stainless-steel bowl from underneath the cabinet and slit open three bags, which she dumped into the bowl. Using an oversized measuring cup, she scooped out the special dry blend—enough for three dogs—and added it to the mix. Taking out a spatula from the drawer, she stirred everything together before heading back to the sunroom where she kept Jack’s and Scout’s food dishes. After dividing the portions into three servings, she stood back and watched them eat. “Farley can use the bowl as his food dish.”
He loved watching her move. She was so relaxed. Her love of dogs sparkled in her eyes. There was no worry about Farley eating out of her shiny mixing bowl. She seemed to take it all in stride.
A skeptic, Linus crossed his arms over his chest to wait for his finicky dog to turn up his nose at the food. He was stunned to see Farley gobble up the special dinner as if he hadn’t eaten in four days. “Wow. I think I’m going to sign up for the delivery. After tonight, he probably won’t eat the stuff I just bought at Murphy’s anyway.”
“Nothing against Murphy but I found that Jack wasn’t in love with any of the kibble there, especially with his stomach issues left over from his abandoned dog days. I did ask Murphy to order the dry brand that Cord suggested, but he said I’d be better off pricewise, ordering it from PetSmart in San Sebastian. So, that’s what I do.”
“How soon do you think they’ll deliver?”
“As soon as you set up your account, you’re good to go. Just make your shipping choices sooner rather than later.” She moved closer and patted him on the chest. “Now, it’s our time for dinner.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Plop down and wait, or you could play with the dogs. Keep them from underfoot. Scout tends to lurk when I’m in the kitchen.”
“I could set the table.”
She started meal prep by running water into a large pot to boil fresh pasta. “Sure. That cupboard above the silverware drawer is for the plates. The candlesticks are on the buffet behind you.”
He found the location of everything couldn’t be a coincidence. “Organization, no doubt.”
“You bet. You take fewer steps that way when the utensils and plates are right there. Napkins are in the drawer to the left.”
By the time he’d gotten the table set and the candles lit, the fragrant aroma of simmering sauce filled the air with a comforting scent, making Linus’s stomach growl in anticipation. He stared at the stove. “I thought you said you had leftovers. That’s fresh tomato sauce.”
Lake smiled. “It’s no big deal. Every year I can jars of this stuff. I grow my own tomatoes.”
“You’re kidding?”
“If you don’t believe me, take a look in the pantry. Just don’t panic or judge me. I’m not a hoarder or a prepper. I’m just very frugal. I don’t throw away what I grow. I either give what I can to my dad and my stepmom or to the neighbors. And I always manage to find a use for three different kinds of tomatoes in soups, salads, or something.”
“I noticed you do love to garden,” Linus said as he went to the pantry, a door with a sign on it that said pantry and peeked inside before gaping at the overstocked shelves. There were jars of spaghetti sauce, green beans, six different flavored jams and jellies, assorted pie fillings, and jars of homemade vegetable soup.
She came up behind him. “Are you starting to worry that I’m a vegetarian? Because I am. Except for bacon. I love bacon.”
“You don’t eat meat other than bacon?”
“Not usually. Is that a problem?”
He tried to sound serious when he said, “I’m trying to picture life without a cheeseburger. I have to be honest. It’s scary. And troubling.”
She sputtered with laughter. “I’ve been a vegetarian since I went to work for our new fledgling school district at a starting salary that doesn’t provide for too many luxuries. And since my student loan looks like the national debt, I stay home a lot. Plus, have you seen the price of meat lately?”
“You don’t eat out much?”
“No, not really. I bring my lunch most days and eat my sandwich sitting somewhere along the pier.”
“Ah. That explains the Snoopy lunch box I saw in your basket. What kind of sandwich is vegetarian?”
“Now I know you’re kidding. I’m vegetarian, not vegan, there’s a difference. I eat eggs and drink milk. So there are all kinds of sandwich possibilities besides avocado or bean sprouts. There’s grilled cheese, egg salad, fried egg sandwiches—those are the best—but I also make a mean veggie slider with roasted red peppers, artichokes, and mozzarella.”
“And you grow all this yourself?” He’d only seen her working in the flower garden out front. But now he realized somewhere in the backyard had to be a very large vegetable garden. He tried peering through the bank of windows, but it was too dark to make out anything. “I’m not sure I’ve ever dated anyone who’s a vegetarian. My last girlfriend—”
“That would be Jessica.”
When he looked panic-stricken, she added, “It is a small town.”
“Then why do I never hear anything about who you’re dating?”
“Hmmm. Probably because I don’t date much. The last time—although I wouldn’t call it a date exactly—was a Halloween party in San Sebastian. A friend from college talked me into going. Full disclosure, I’m not a big fan of the bar scene or getting wasted or spending money on funny-sounding cocktails that cost eight bucks a pop.”
“Good to know. So who owned the lunch box?”
“My dad. It’s from 1965. There are a lot of things in this house that get recycled from generation to generation. For example, I made my Halloween costume out of one of my grandmother’s dresses from the 1930s. Used her sewing machine, too. It’s ancient but it got the job done. And there’s a box in the basement with old Coca-Cola bottles from the 1920s, the kind you return to the store. My mother also left a bunch of old clothes when she took off that I use for rags. Speaking of parents, how is your mother? Cooper Richmond came into the library yesterday and told me your mother had heart surgery a week ago. I had no idea.”
“She did. Sort of. They put in a stent. She’s doing fine.”
“I’m glad she’s recovering. Isn’t Cooper your best friend?”
“Pretty much. When I first met him, he was a globe-trotting photojournalist. We lived in the same Sausalito condo complex. That must’ve been almost thirteen years ago. After he settled down here with Eastlyn Parker—hard to believe he owns a toy store now—he talked me into leaving the Bay Area. I was never going to be able to buy a house in Sausalito anyway, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check out a new town. I wandered down here one weekend and fell in love with the place. My mother followed five years later after my dad passed away.”
Lake couldn’t imagine losing her father. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“That first year without him was tough on Mom. But the move down here helped. In fact, it helped both of us. I’m a homeowner now. And lucky for me, the area needed paramedics.”
“And still do,” Lake added as she popped dinner rolls into the oven. “I usually don’t keep wine on hand, but I have a bottle that Hannah gave me for Christmas. We could have that with our pasta if you want.”
“Sure. Are you saving it for a special occasion, though? You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
“Starting to regret your decision to come for dinner?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just that you’ve worked all day. I like watching you move around the kitchen.”
“You do?”
At her reaction to that, a sense of reassurance enveloped him. He found himself captivated by her every gesture. He was about to move closer when Scout bumped his legs and he almost fell over.
“Scout, go to your bed. Now, Scout,” Lake directed, snapping her fingers. “Go on. Go to your bed.”
The dog trotted off toward the connecting sunroom with her head down and her tail between her legs.
Linus looked toward the dogs and realized Farley was stretched out next to Jack. “I’ll be damned. I’ve never seen him so calm. What’s in that food?”
“I don’t think the company’s recipe includes tranquilizers if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I guess not. Could he like the food that much?”
“Maybe it satisfies him in a way that his normal food doesn’t. I don’t know. All I know is that Jack really settled down after he started to eat better food.”
The timer on the oven dinged. “Time to take out the rolls. You sit. I’ll bring everything over.”
Once he settled around the table, his first taste of Lake’s cooking won him over. “This sauce has the tenderest tomatoes in it,” Linus remarked. “I mean, this is the best sauce I’ve ever had.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. “Come on. Get real.”
“Old family recipe? I’m serious. Do you make lasagna with it?”
“When I make lasagna, sure. But it’s not an old family recipe. I got it out of a 1970s cookbook along with the canning method.”
From that point, their conversation flowed without much effort in a blur of laughter and connection. When they talked books, they covered the gamut, discussing classics in the vein of Nathaniel Hawthorne and Thomas Hardy, touching on the likes of William Golding and Cormac McCarthy.
“I already know your favorite genre,” Lake boasted. “It’s non-fiction.”
“I do enjoy reading about history and historical characters. But I do read a lot of—”
“Dan Brown,” she provided, adding quickly, “especially his Robert Langdon series. Rumor has it that he’s supposed to be working on a new Robert Langdon book.”
He knew she was smart, but now he realized that she had a quick wit. There was so much more to her than he had ever imagined. “You’re a fascinating wealth of information. I’ve never met anyone who actually read Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic America.”
“I love books about journeys. What better journey than a father and son facing a bleak landscape when they have absolutely nothing? The book isn’t for everyone, though, is it? You have to be in the right frame of mind to get through it, otherwise depression manifests like no other book I’ve ever read.”
“Agreed. But I’m just amazed that you actually got through it. But then you’re a librarian. You probably have read every book on the shelf. Which prompts the question, what’s your favorite book of all time?”
“You mean this year, don’t you? I couldn’t possibly pick one book from everything I’ve read. This year, though, I loved The Boys in the Boat. It’s uplifting and inspirational. Moving. And sort of sad, I guess, because they won the gold in 1936 but didn’t get the recognition they deserved when they beat the Germans in front of Hitler.”
“It’d be interesting to learn what books you haven’t read. How did you get a name like Lake anyway?”
Lake winced. “Your name is Linus and you’re asking me about Lake? Okay. Fair question. But you have to promise never to tell anyone. Not ever, even if you’re tortured and tempted to spill.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yep. My entire name is Blossom Lake Marigold.”
Linus tried to stifle a laugh. “Blossom? The first thing that comes to mind is that character on that 90s TV show.”
“Duh. Exactly. My mother was a huge fan of that show.” Lake shook her head. “I don’t know what she was thinking. In my defense, she was a bit of a hippie back then before she realized that lifestyle didn’t put money in the bank. Back when I was born, her first thought wasn’t about money. That came later. At the time, she thought Blossom Lake was cute. Can you imagine going through life with people calling you Blossom? Do I look like a Blossom to you?”
“Not really. Kids must’ve teased you constantly.”
“They teased me enough with the name Lake. They never knew about Blossom. After my mother left us, my father had the foresight to go to court and change my name to something simpler. Because he started out as a fifth-grade teacher, he knew kids would crucify me to no end, so he did something about it. He was right. Kids found something else to tease me about.”
“Don’t they always? Does your dad still teach?”
“Sure. But he went to grad school at UC Santa Cruz, commuted like I did to get his doctorate, and became a mathematics professor at Cal Poly. He lives in San Luis Obispo with his new wife, Gillian, an English professor. Now your turn. Why Linus?”
He picked up his wine. “What can I say? Annette Canfield loved Peanuts, Snoopy, and Linus Van Pelt. There must be something weird about the generation of mothers who picked their kids’ names from TV shows.”
“You know, even when I didn’t go by Blossom, kids still made fun of my name,” Lake admitted. “Sometimes I had to stand my ground surrounded by bullies.”
“Same here. I bet I got into more playground fights defending my name than the norm.”
“Unusual first names. Something we have in common.” Lake picked up her wine glass and stared at the man sitting across the table. She could picture him in his dark blue paramedic outfit saving someone’s life. “How did you even decide you wanted to go the paramedic route?”
“I joined the Army right after high school. I wasn’t there five minutes before they decided for me that I would make a good medic. The military trained me, so when I got out after four years, it was the only thing I knew how to do.”
“You saw combat?”
“Yep. Afghanistan. Two tours. A messy, chaotic time in my life where I’ve seen and done things I never want to talk about. But I learned a lot about keeping a cool head under duress.” He looked past her into the sunroom, where the dogs had quieted down. “Do Jack and Scout always sleep downstairs?”
For some reason, Lake found herself bristling at the question. “You’re asking a single woman where her dogs sleep? That’s kind of personal. This is a big ol’ house that creaks and groans, especially at night.” When she saw a streak of mortification appear in his eyes, she grinned. “I’m just kidding you. They always sleep in my bedroom if not on the bed. I can’t imagine getting a decent night’s sleep without them.”
Linus held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that Farley doesn’t like me closing him off from the bedroom at night, so what usually happens is I let him flop on the bed when there’s thunder.”
More at ease, she finished off her wine. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I find curling up with them helps me sleep. Ready for dessert?”
He cracked a sly smile. “I’ll settle for the ice cream. See what I did there?”
She couldn’t help it, a giggle escaped. She scooted her chair out and stood up. “You’re very clever. But for now, spicy chocolate is all you’re getting. Although maybe I can jazz it up a little.”
As she walked past him, he reached out and took her hand. “Dinner was great. Thank you.”
She surprised him by leaning down and placing a kiss on his cheek. “It’s not over yet.”
Lake went over to the freezer drawer and took out the ice cream. She dished up two bowls of the spicy chocolate and topped it with her own fruit spread made with sweet cherries.
When she brought it to the table,Linus couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. The creamy chocolate and vibrant cherries looked like a work of art in a bowl. “It reminds me of a chocolate version of cherries jubilee.”
“If only. I promise there’s no brandy in my fruit spread. But maybe next time.”
As they indulged in the decadent dessert, silence hung in the air. Linus savored each bite. The two sat in her cozy breakfast area, the soft flush of candlelight dancing across their faces created a tranquil ambiance as though they’d eaten together a thousand times.
With the relaxed atmosphere came a connectivity she hadn’t felt with anyone else. For her, the evening had taken an unexpected turn, transforming a simple dinner with a neighbor into something more meaningful. She looked across the table and noticed his expression—a fusion of delight and contentment—and tried to guess what he was thinking at that moment. She watched him with a fondness she hadn’t anticipated, finding herself drawn to his cool-headed demeanor and gentle nature. They had even shared a few stories from their pasts, peeled away layers of their lives, and discovered a kinship rooted in their commonalities—a first step in getting to know each other better.
When Linus finished his last bite, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Your homemade topping didn’t need a thing, not even alcohol. It paired up well with the spicy chocolate, bringing out the flavors to perfection. You have a real talent for throwing together a meal and making it special.”
Lake felt her face go warm at the compliment; her cheeks blushed with a pinkish hue. “I’ve always enjoyed cooking, especially when I keep it simple, and I have someone who appreciates a good meal.”
Linus smiled, his eyes twinkling with sincerity. “Well, I consider myself lucky to be that someone,” he replied, reaching across the table to gently brush his fingers against hers.
The touch sent a shiver through Lake, stirring a flutter of expectation. Their hands lingered as a comforting silence settled between them, allowing their unspoken affection to deepen. It was as if time stood still in that moment, suspended in the air like a delicate thread. They exchanged glances, their eyes dancing with undeclared words.
“I have to admit,” Linus began softly, breaking the silence, “this evening has surpassed all my expectations. You’re not just an incredible cook; you have this ability to make me feel...seen.”
Lake’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. “You had expectations about tonight?”
“I’ve wanted to ask you out for at least a year and a half.”
Her mouth fell open. “I don’t understand. You never seemed that interested in me when you were checking out books.”
“I might’ve been intimidated by your smarts. You have a Ph.D. I didn’t even go to college.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve been a nerd all my life, a socially awkward nerd. Everybody knows it. That’s why they say mean things behind my back. Besides, you have your own talent. You’ve gone through life-saving training. You’re equipped to use CPR, a defibrillator, and administer IVs. You save lives every day by helping people in all kinds of situations. I can’t do any of that. I don’t even like to look at blood.”
Linus met her eyes and grinned. “You get used to it.”
“I wouldn’t,” she confessed. “I can’t believe I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out, and you didn’t because I’ve been to college.”
“On my salary, I’d never be able to afford this kind of house.”
“What difference does that make? I didn’t build it. Neither did my dad. It’s been in my family for more than a hundred years and passed down to us. A drafty old house with dust in the attic and cobwebs in the basement. Marigold House is a big hit around Halloween.”
“Wait. You’ve been waiting for me to ask you out?”
“Long before Keegan called me that day about two labradoodles available for adoption,” she revealed. “I picked Scout. But when I reached the clinic and walked into the reception area, there you were, signing the papers for Farley. I thought it might be a reason to finally connect.”
Linus chuckled. In a voice brimming with genuine affection, in a tone laced with surprise and delight, he stated, “Why would you remember that day unless fate had a plan for us after all?”
“In spite of ourselves,” Lake replied, her eyes glistening with warmth. “I noticed right away how wonderful you were with Farley. You were giving him a belly rub. It was like a glimpse into your soul.” She paused, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Yikes, that sounds incredibly corny, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t think so. I noticed the same thing about you when Jessica brought out Scout. That was like a peek into your heart. A love for animals is never a bad thing.” His gaze never left hers. “Well, it seems we’ve both been silently waiting for something that was right in front of us all along.”
“I never would have guessed that you felt the same way about me. You always came into the library with such an indifferent attitude.”
“Self-preservation,” Linus corrected. “I didn’t want you breaking my heart.”
“As if,” Lake began, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “you know, a girl of thirty-two should start thinking about settling down, look around town, and determine who out there constitutes marriage material.”
Just as playful, Linus raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “You’re thirty-two? That old? Wow. Don’t let my mother get wind of us talking about marriage. She’s been trying to marry off her thirty-five-year-old son ever since she arrived in town.”
“That’s so sweet and considerate,” Lake teased, leaning forward, her hand still entwined with his. Her face softened into fake concern. “Of course, you’ll need my father’s permission. He’s very strict. He wanted me to marry a zillionaire so he could retire from teaching for good. How much does a paramedic make, anyway?”
“Not even close to zillionaire status. Check my bank account and you’ll see I don’t even have much in savings.”
“That’s a shame. I was already thinking about splurging on a big wedding and going all out on the dress. Come to think of it, we could have the wedding in the backyard. And since I grow my own flowers, I won’t even need to spend extra on a florist.”
They both cracked up at the same time and broke out in a round of silly laughter.
Lake got to her feet, picking up dishes and carrying them over to the farmhouse sink. “I didn’t even see panic in your eyes. I was sure you’d cave first.”
Linus stood up and took his plates over to the counter. “I used my poker face.”
“Then remind me never to bluff.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t underestimate you for a million bucks, Lake Marigold. I’ve seen the way you handle those unruly kids who come into the library looking for trouble. You’ve got a knack for reading people.”
She turned around, her expression playful yet curious. “Is that so?”
Linus nodded, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Absolutely. You have this way of seeing beyond the surface, of understanding what makes people tick. It’s like you can read what’s inside. It was one of the first things that caught my attention about you. You have this innate insight into the soul.”
Lake blushed, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of humility and embarrassment. “I guess spending so much time around books has its perks. I pick up on what sort of books people check out. Then when they come up to the counter, they reveal themselves in a whole other way. I’ve always thought that words and conversations have a way of revealing the hidden depths within us. They can be rude or friendly, miserable or lonely. My friends in college used to say I spent too much time trying to figure people out, that I was too serious.”
“I wouldn’t say serious, more like an old soul. And just like stories, people are multifaceted. We’re all chapters waiting to be explored.”
A comfortable silence settled between them as they continued their choreographed dance around the kitchen, clearing away the dishes and loading the dishwasher.
When they finished tidying up and wiping down the counters, Linus reached out and gently cupped Lake’s face in his hands, drawing her closer.
Her eyes lit up. Her breath hitched. Like two puzzle pieces finally coming together, she put her arms around his waist. When his hands came around her back, she felt his fingers tracing circles up her spine. As he leaned in, she tilted her head. Their lips touched, a gentle meeting at first that spoke volumes without saying a single thing. It was as if the world simply faded away, if only for that one moment. In that brief discovery, they became characters in their own story, an intricate tale of partnering and love. The room buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken longing and uncharted emotions.
Linus could feel Lake’s heart beating against his chest, matching the rhythm of his own. It was a symphony of sensations, blending together in harmony. With every breath they took, the bond between them grew stronger, deepening with each glance into each other’s eyes, lingering with each forward touch.
Their lips played the dance, exploring the contours and nuances of each other’s moves. It was a delicate balance, a delicate unveiling of their shared vulnerability. And as their kiss deepened, they became entwined in a timeless embrace, melting into one another like ink on paper.
For Lake, the kiss was a revelation, a fusion of two souls who had longed to intertwine but had never found the right moment until now. It was as if their passion had been building in the background, waiting for the perfect alignment of stars to burst forth.
Linus felt his heart come alive. It was as if her touch unlocked a hidden dam within him, flooding every corner of his being with an overwhelming sense of belonging.
Lake’s mind whirled with a medley of feelings. The icy walls she had built around her heart began to melt. But fear was the reason she broke the kiss first, stepping back just as all three dogs charged into the kitchen.
Their rambunctious entrance shattered the moment, and Linus and Lake jumped apart, their eyes wide with confusion. The dogs, sensing the shift in energy, wagged their tails excitedly as if they had just accomplished some grand feat by barging into the room at that precise moment.
Linus tried to compose himself, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Um, that was intense.”
“Very,” was all Lake managed to say as the dogs circled them. Her lips still tingling from the kiss, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. Her gaze flickered between Linus and the dogs with uncertainty etched across her features.
Linus said the only thing he could think of to say. “It’s getting late. I guess Farley and I need to hit the road.”
“Okay, sure,” she muttered, sounding like an idiot. “Don’t forget your groceries. Oh, and let me get those books on training labradoodles.”
“Right.” Linus turned toward the refrigerator, a mix of uncertainty and disappointment clouding his eyes. He could feel the lingering heat of their kiss still on his lips as she shoved sacks into his hands before heading off into another room to grab the books.
In a daze, he began to load the perishables into the bags. After transferring everything, he picked up each sack and stood in place. “Come on, Farley, it’s time to go,” Linus said to the dog.
When she returned and stuffed the books into the grocery sacks, he asked, “Which way out?”
“Let me help you with that,” Lake offered, taking one of the bags out of his hand. “The front door’s this way.”
She led him out of the kitchen through a hallway to the left, flipping on lights as she went. The dogs trailed after them as they passed through the formal dining room and then what used to be a parlor with huge tri-paned arched windows and an ornate fireplace. She reached a wide entryway featuring a chevron-patterned floorof alternating mahogany and light wood. The main staircase showed off the same dark wood in the sturdy railing.
Linus took one look at the massive mahogany staircase and said, “How do you find your way around here? Do you ever get lost?”
Lake sputtered with laughter and turned the lock on the double doors. “It’s not the Taj Mahal or Buckingham Palace. It’s just home. I should’ve given you a tour of the place. Next time. In case you’re ever called to this address in an emergency, I keep an extra key underneath the birdhouse in the backyard for backup. A magnetic strip on the underside holds it in place.”
“Clever. Let me guess. Your grandfather built the birdhouse?”
“Nope. My dad. But he always taught me that I should have a Plan B—B for Backup, B for Backyard, B for Birdhouse—hence an extra house key in the birdhouse. Don’t ask—it’s Marigold logic—that made more sense when I was eight.”
In an awkward moment of silence, he took that first step onto the front porch with Farley. “Thanks for dinner.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she replied stoically as she watched him and his labradoodle head for the pickup before coming to her senses. With Jack and Scout on her heels, she followed him to his truck. Before he could open the door, she stepped up to him. “This is silly. You can’t leave without me doing this.”
She took his face in her hands and kissed him fiercely on the mouth. When she finally let him go, she added, “Now that’s a proper goodbye kiss. If you’re not working tomorrow, stop by the library around one, that’s when I take my lunch break. I’ll pack an extra egg salad sandwich for you.”
With that offer, Lake Marigold sauntered back toward the front porch.
Linus stood there dumbfounded at her initiative, her boldness. He stood there in that one spot without moving until the front door slammed shut.
Okay, that kiss had gone a long way in making everything feel less awkward. This meant he was leaving on a high note. And what a high note, he decided, glancing over at Farley in the front seat. “Women. You think you have them pegged. Not Lake Marigold. Not the meek librarian after all. From here on out, something tells me we’re in for a helluva ride, Farley.