Chapter 2 #2
Paul couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this confused about a woman.
It reminded him of high school, when everything having to do with girls had been a mystery to him.
They’d all seemed to like him—and his brother—but he’d felt awkward around them until he’d grown into adulthood and finally figured out the secret to getting laid regularly.
Except for lately, that is. Lately, he’d been so overwhelmed by running his family’s business and taking care of his mother that he’d forgotten everything he once knew about how to handle himself around women.
Ugh, what if she quit over this? His worries kept him awake for the remaining time he had to sleep.
At six, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, standing under the hot water to wash away the cobwebs.
He took the time to shave and was standing in the kitchen drinking coffee when Hope came in with Ethan, who was scowling and dragging his backpack behind him.
“There it is.” Hope pointed to a book on the counter. She looked tired and frazzled and seemed to go out of her way to avoid looking at Paul.
Ethan retrieved the book, stuffed it into his backpack and headed for the front door with his mother following behind him. She walked him out to the bus stop every morning, even though her son had told her she didn’t have to. He was almost eight after all.
Paul remembered having the same conversation with his parents around that age with the same results.
One of their parents had put him and Alex on the bus until the middle school kids started making fun of them and they’d begged them to stay home.
He hadn’t thought about that in years, and the memory made him smile.
Since Alex and Jenny would be getting up any minute, Paul decided to meet Hope on the way back from the bus stop. There was no way he was letting that middle-of-the-night kiss fester all day. He had to make sure they were okay, that she wasn’t planning to quit or anything else equally unimaginable.
This was exactly why his father had told them to keep their hands off the employees.
Alex had once asked their dad what he would’ve done if he’d met their mother when she came to work at the store for a summer.
George had famously said, “I would’ve waited until the day the summer ended and then chased after her until she agreed to be my girl. ”
That’s what he should do, too. He hated to think of the day when Hope would no longer be in their employ, because that would mean his mother had passed away or required more care than they could provide at home.
They weren’t just talking about a summer in this case.
His mother could live for years yet, and Paul wanted that.
So if he was interested in Hope, was he supposed to wait until his mother died or moved out and Hope no longer worked for them?
He couldn’t help but think that even his late father would find that a foolish waste of valuable time, especially when Paul wasn’t getting any younger and felt like his life was slipping away while he was held captive to his many responsibilities.
On her way down the long lane from the main road, Hope stopped when she saw him coming.
Paul held up his hands. “I come in peace.”
That drew a small smile from her. She folded her arms into that protective pose she preferred and dropped her gaze. “I’m so sorry, Paul. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You aren’t going to quit, are you?”
Gasping, she looked up at him. “Do you want me to?”
“Hell no, I don’t want you to quit. We’d be lost without you.”
“It was very unprofessional of me to kiss my boss like that.”
“Your boss kinda liked it.”
“Oh. Um…” She seemed to force herself to look at him. “You did?”
Paul nodded.
“Still, it was extremely unprofessional.”
“No, it wasn’t. You were upset, and it just happened. We’re in an intense situation here dealing with my mom’s illness and the isolation of the island and everything that goes with it. I’d like to think this isn’t your typical job.”
“It’s not. It’s the best job I’ve ever had, and I’d hate to do anything to mess it up.”
“Then let’s not allow it to mess things up for either of us.”
“Thank you for being so nice about it.”
He smiled, hoping to reassure her. “It was no hardship to kiss you, Hope.”
“It’s been a really long time since I’ve kissed anyone. I probably suck at it.”
“Ahhh, no, you definitely don’t suck at it.” Something compelled him to take a step closer to her, closing the small distance that remained. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that kissing is just like riding a bike? You never forget the fundamentals, no matter how much time passes?”
“I, um… Your mom. I should get her up and ready for her appointment this morning.”
Startled to realize he’d been on the verge of kissing her again, Paul took a step back. “Leave at eight forty-five?”
Hope nodded.
“I’ll be ready.”
She started toward the house, and Paul fell into step with her. The early morning sunshine beat down upon them as another crystal-clear September day began.
“Is this going to make everything weird between us now?” he asked.
“No,” she said quickly—almost too quickly. “At least I hope not.”
“I won’t let it if you won’t.”
“Deal.”
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God… Those three little words had been on the tip of Hope’s tongue since the early morning hours when she’d lost her mind and kissed her boss!
After crying all over him. Oh. My. God. The crying was understandable in light of Lisa’s sad death, but the kissing?
In no way was that understandable or acceptable or justifiable or any other –able word that she could think of.
After everything she’d been through to start a new life for herself and Ethan.
To risk it all so foolishly… It made her feel queasy as she went through the morning routine of getting Marion up and showered and dressed, all while answering a million questions about why she was there and who did she think she was helping her into the shower.
Different day, same questions. Such was the sad routine of working with dementia patients.
In her old life, she’d worked at a memory care facility that specialized in dementia in all its many forms. She was used to the questions, the outrage, the indignity and the despair of the relentless disease that stole people from themselves and their families.
In a few months of working with Marion, Hope had become fond of her and her sons, both of whom were endearingly devoted to their mother. As the mother of a son, she could only hope that Ethan would care as much about her if such a fate should befall her someday.
God forbid.
She helped Marion with her breakfast, served her coffee exactly the way she liked it and navigated the morning battle of getting her meds into her, while Marion accused Hope of trying to poison her. She was used to it, as they had the same conversation three times a day.
“Mom, be nice to Hope,” Paul said when he emerged from the shower wearing a button-down shirt and jeans and looking far too handsome for her own good. “She’s trying to help.”
“I don’t need help from a stranger, George. I’ve told you that.”
Every time Marion mistook one of her sons for her late husband, Hope watched the light in their eyes go dim. It chipped away at both of them.
Hope poured a cup of coffee for Paul and pushed it across the counter to him.
His grateful smile for the small gesture tugged at her. He had so much on his shoulders, so many people counting on him, and at times Hope wondered who he counted on. Who did he turn to when it all became too much?
Not that she was paid to psychoanalyze her boss or his family. It’s not your problem, Hope. You aren’t being paid to worry about him. He’s a grown man who can take care of himself. Except—
“Are you ladies ready to go?” Paul asked.
With her thoughts interrupted by reality, Hope glanced at Marion, who muttered to herself as she perused the Gansett Gazette, her cereal gone soggy from inattention.