Chapter 18
18
A SURPRISE PACKAGE WAITED on the back steps of the café. It was Monday morning, and I’d just returned from dropping Hayley and Emma off at school. A yellow Post-it note with my name on it stuck to the side of a brown paper gift bag. I toted it inside, greeted by Harry Connick Jr.’s smooth voice flowing from the speakers and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Walking past the short hallway to my office and the restaurant bathrooms, I stopped in the main dining room, scanning the space, confirming our readiness to open in fifteen minutes. Jonathan and Penny moved with purpose, Penny ensuring the tables were set for the first customers of the day, and Jonathan checking the server station. Meg, the hostess on shift, lined up the menus at the hostess stand.
“Good morning,” I called out. “Do y’all need anything?”
Greetings and no ma’am s followed from them, along with a yawn from Meg.
I approached Jonathan. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Better.” He wiped down the espresso machine. “Her fender bender wasn’t as bad as we thought. She’s got some bruising and a sprained wrist. Has to take it easy a few days.”
“That’s great news it’s not serious.”
He nodded, the circles under his eyes hinting at the toll the worry for his mother had had on him. “Thanks for asking.”
“If you want to take off to care for her, I can cover your shift.”
“Thank you, but I think we’re okay.”
With everything seemingly in control, I made my way to my office, leaving the door open.
I placed the mystery package on my desk. Peering inside the bag, I found a book and a folded sheet of paper. I retrieved the book, finding another sticky note on the cover with one sentence in a masculine scrawl.
Bat Boy would approve .
I pulled the Post-it off, revealing a red apple held by pale hands. Twilight ? A laugh broke free, and I shook my head at Micah’s ridiculousness.
“What’s so funny?” Mayté appeared in the doorway.
I shoved the book into the bag. “Nothing.”
She gave me a you’re-not-fooling-me look, but didn’t press. “One of the fryers is acting up again.”
My stomach clenched. “The same one?”
“Yup.”
“Is it the thermostat again?”
“Pretty sure. I’ve put in a service call.”
A dull ache began at my temples. This had been the third time in the past six months the equipment had acted up. New fryers typically lasted ten to fifteen years, but I’d purchased this one secondhand to save money. Though buying pre-owned appliances negated extended warranties and factory support, I’d negotiated a guarantee. Unfortunately, that had ended long ago. With all the beignets we made, our fryers were essential, and they needed to be reliable. “Okay.” I rubbed the side of my head. “I’ll evaluate biting the bullet and purchasing a new fryer or taking a chance on another used one.” That trip to Hawaii slipped further out of reach.
“Sounds good.” She shifted to leave.
“Hey, can I ask what you were planning for me and Hayley’s dinner tonight?”
“Lasagna. I prepped it yesterday. Just have to bake it.”
“Can you send Jonathan home with it instead? His mom’s out of commission for a few days.”
“Sure thing.” She disappeared, no doubt heading for the kitchen to give the ailing fryer a swift kick to its shin.
Taking a seat in my leather chair, I pulled the book back out, setting it on my desk. I removed a sheet of white printer paper that was folded in the pages, finding a handwritten note.
Reason #2 for why you won’t date me:
I drive a flip-prone vehicle.
You wouldn’t be able to control yourself around me.
Another laugh erupted, dampening the qualms of running a business. Oh, Micah. Why do you have to be so cute? And determined? I continued reading.
P.S. The balance on the gift card to the bookstore will cover the rest of the books in the series. My sister swears they’re addictive.
I snorted and peered into the bag. Sure enough, the gift card to the Garden District Book Shop lay at the bottom. Glancing at the paperback, I wondered if I could return it and reload the money onto the card. It was the right thing to do considering that tank of gas I now drove around on. But how would I give the gift card back to him without actually seeing him? After our convo at City Park this past Saturday, I’d planned to avoid the man until the next event in three weeks. I could mail the gift card or simply leave it on his porch. Nah. Those avenues seemed too predictable.
A lightbulb clicked on in my brain, and a sneaky type of joy slid through me. I bit my bottom lip and my growing smile, knowing exactly how I’d accomplish my task. But first, I’d get my application for the federal SBA loan submitted today, and send up a huge prayer with it.
The next afternoon, I parked on the side street next to the library. The handful of spots in the meager lot had all been taken, which suited me. In keeping with avoiding Micah, I’d planned to text Hayley and have her meet me at the car anyway. Since yesterday, I’d reread his note an embarrassing number of times. And each time I slipped the note into my desk drawer, I’d reminded myself of the pitfalls of romantic relationships. Of the high probability of history repeating itself.
Movement on the property’s west lawn caught my attention. There, in the small reading garden, stood Micah at the little free library, opening the glass-paned doors. Today’s Hawaiian shirt featured fish in an array of species. An inkling of fondness tugged up the corners of my lips. But then I noticed the slump of his shoulders, his downcast expression. The warm fuzzies that had been building cooled. Without thinking, I exited my vehicle, my focus trained on him.
He glanced over. A hesitant smile crossed his face, then dimmed. He lifted his hand, gesturing me near, and returned to sorting through the books before him.
My heels clicked against the concrete as I followed the path toward him. Carefully trimmed camellia shrubs lined the walkway, their soft pink blooms kissing the air with a delicate fragrance. The walkway deposited me into an area canopied by a live oak. Two benches and the little free library completed the area.
Normally, the enchanting spot would hold my attention, but not today. No, it remained on Micah. On his glum features and weary posture. Concern for him grew with every step. He appeared so different from the man who’d flirted with me at City Park three days ago. I wasn’t even in a relationship with him, and the sensation we were about to be thrown for a loop twisted in my gut.
I stopped several feet away, leaning on my toes to keep my heels from sinking in the dirt. “Everything all right?”
Micah shut the doors on the tiny lending library. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay.” Hefting my purse strap higher on my shoulder, I struggled to keep my mind from taking off in multiple negative directions. I glanced at the library, where Hayley was. Had he discovered something bad about her?
“I didn’t think this was a big deal, but ... in light of what I found out yesterday afternoon...” He palmed the back of his neck, his gaze earnest. “It involves why I returned to New Orleans.”
My worry eased, and I moved to one of the benches, carefully sidestepping the protruding roots from the oak. I took a seat, setting my purse aside.
“It was to help look after my dad.”
The air held captive in my lungs released, more tension slipping free.
Micah’s hand dropped from his neck. “I hadn’t initially mentioned it, because ... well, like I said, I didn’t think it was a big deal.” He paced a few steps away and stopped. “After all, my sister’s been here all these years. Cutting his grass, helping him around his house, caring for him when he was sick.” The muscles in his back expanded with a full breath. He turned, facing me. “The last time I visited, I realized how involved she’s had to be, especially with him not driving anymore. So I decided to move back to give her a break.”
The rest of the tightness within me loosened, and another positive quality filled on Micah’s pro-con list. “I’m sure she’s grateful to have you here.” I studied him, trying to make sense of why helping his dad in those simple ways constituted such seriousness.
“When you were sick, I was going to tell you, but then you’d shared about your grandma. Even though my dad’s care was nothing like hers, it didn’t seem like the right moment.”
My mind snagged on his usage of was . And his first words returned to me. “In light of what I found out.” I leaned forward. “What happened yesterday?”
“My dad sprained his ankle.”
“Oh.” I could hear the relief in my voice. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Is he okay?”
He nodded. “He injured it so easily, though—just going down one step—that Renee and I began wondering if something else was at play. The X-ray they took of his leg at the doctor’s office showed weakened bones. During the appointment, my dad fessed up to the back pain he’s been having and agreed to additional testing.”
I fidgeted with the purse strap on my lap. Oh, Lord, please don’t let it be serious. Micah’s already been through so much with his mom.
“We’re waiting for the results from a bone density scan, but his doctor said all symptoms point to advanced osteoporosis.”
“So it’s his bones?”
“Yes.” He stared at his shoes. Sunlight snuck through the massive oak’s leaves, dappling Micah and the ground around him.
“If it is advanced osteoporosis, are there medications or treatments?”
“There are,” he said. “But if it’s too advanced, there’s no reversing it. It comes down to preventative care.”
“I’m sorry this is all happening.”
The traffic moving along St. Charles Avenue hummed in the background, an approaching streetcar adding its own clanking rhythm.
Micah studied his hands clasped before him. “I don’t know what the future holds with my dad and what his care may look like, but given what you went through with your grandma, I wanted to be up-front.”
I stilled, and a chill pricked my skin at the thought of Mawmaw and those final years. I hadn’t been faced with anyone close to me being put in a caregiver role and what that would entail. My shoulders curled forward, uncertainty slowing the breaths in my chest. I lifted my gaze to the oak’s thick branches jutting over us. Lord, please help me have the right heart in this.
A breeze swept through, bringing the leaves to life. I focused on their rustling and regaining perspective. Micah’s potential situation with his father was different from what I’d gone through. And most importantly, it wasn’t about me. I took in Micah. His concern not only for his father but his sensitivity toward me. Empathy swelled, overlapping the echo of past fears. I pushed up from the bench and moved toward him. “I’m sorry I painted such a dismal picture of that time with my grandma.”
Micah shook his head. “You don’t—”
I held up my hand. “Despite how hard it was, I never regretted it.” I offered a reassuring smile. “And if it comes to that for you, I have a feeling you won’t regret it either. Plus, you have your sister to help.”
He made a noncommittal noise. “She’s already done enough all these years.”
“If it becomes really involved care, you can’t do it alone. Not long-term.”
Micah nudged a fallen acorn with the toe of his shoe.
“And I hope you know, I’m here too.” My stomach gave a mild quiver. “Even if it’s just to talk.”
His gaze flicked up to mine, and he studied me.
I hoped he saw the truth in my words. Or at least how much I wanted them to be true.
“Thank you.” The weight that had been in his countenance seemed to lift. The spark returning to his green eyes.
Every fiber within me wanted to close the distance between us and hug him. Wanted to ignore my vulnerable heart, if only for a moment.
As if he could sense that battle warring inside me, Micah edged closer, the air between us shifting. Building with meaning.
Sarah McLachlan. I glanced at my feet, breaking our connection. This conversation, and Micah setting expectations for what his life may start to look like, felt as if we were tiptoeing out of friendship and into something more. Walking onto a path I couldn’t tread. And so I took a step back. Literally. My body smacking into the tiny book house. Oof . “Hayley.”
Micah darted forward, but I held up my hands, righting myself on my own.
“Hayley.” His mouth lifted in a playful smile. “As in one of the four reasons you can’t date me?”
“Yes.” I winced. “I mean, she’s waiting.” I grabbed my purse and made my way up the walkway, seeking the safety of the library.
“You know,” Micah called after me, laughter in his voice, “I’m still waiting to see which box you check.”
For four days I’d managed to avoid Micah Guidry. And that streak came to a screeching halt on Easter Sunday. At church. Really, Lord? I thought being single was where it was at biblically. Micah pushed the wheelchair of an elderly man, no doubt his father. My heart pinched, and memories laced with sadness over Mawmaw’s final years rolled through my mind. I forced my eyes from the wheelchair to Micah’s face. My thoughts lightened, a pitter-patter emerging in my chest.
“Well, well, well,” Julia crooned next to me. “Look who switched services.”
“Shush,” I scolded. “And don’t make eye contact.”
“Why? You’re just friends , right?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat and smoothed a hand down the hip of my sleeveless fit-and-flare dress. “Just friends.” I hadn’t had a chance to tell her about Micah’s not-so-subtle hints at the park about wanting to date me, or his surprise gift this past Monday. Based on the meddlesome gleam in her eye, withholding that information had been the correct choice.
“I’m guessing that’s his dad,” Julia said. “What happened?”
“He sprained his ankle.” I also hadn’t yet shared with her my convo during the past week with Micah regarding his father.
We stood in the welcome center, against a wall of windows and out of the way of foot traffic. People spilled from the vast sanctuary, some making their way for the exits, others beelining for the free coffee bar. I kept Julia company while she waited for Samuel to finish his undercover security detail. Hayley had already left with Emma and her parents, where they were having a sleepover since they didn’t have school tomorrow.
I’d let her choose between a crawfish boil at Julia’s house today or going to Emma’s. Given the fact Julia’s collegiate sons wouldn’t be in town (and therefore not in sight to crush on), she’d chosen Emma’s.
I scanned the distance to the women’s bathroom and eased a step away.
Julia’s hand clamped onto my wrist. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing.” My response came too fast.
A glimmer shone in Julia’s eyes, her grasp tightening ever so slightly.
If only I could drink some of that trippy potion from Alice in Wonderland , shrink to the size of Precious, and scurry away.
“Hi, Micah!” Julia waved at him. And not in a small, polite way. No, she’d fully raised her arm and flailed, as if Micah were an airplane, and she held a bright orange stick, directing him to a gate.
I restrained from stabbing my stiletto heel into her sandaled foot.
Micah’s gaze slid between me and my ex-best friend. With a tentative smile, he moved in our direction, carefully weaving his dad through the crowd.
I leaned toward Julia, keeping my voice low. “You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’.”
She sniffed, and finally released her grip. “I seem to remember you wholeheartedly meddling in my love life last year.”
I grumbled, hating her correctness. “There’s a distinct difference. I don’t want a love life.” I hazarded another glance Micah’s way. His gray slacks and tucked-in white polo highlighted his athletic physique. Darn you, jiujitsu . Even ninety-something Marlene Richards, who Julia had nicknamed Miss Hawaiian Tropics due to her lifelong participation in swimsuit competitions, slowed her motorized scooter, her attention channeling on Micah’s broad shoulders. Shoulders I had rested my head against when he’d carried me from his Jeep to my bed. Heat spread up my neck, no doubt flushing my face.
“If you don’t want a love life, what’s the harm in talking to Micah?” Faux innocence coated Julia’s tone. “P.S. You’re blushing.”
“I’m not blushing. I’m hot from these windows and the sun beating down on me.” I motioned to the glass behind us, instantly losing my argument. The skies outside boasted fluffy clouds, blocking all direct sunlight.
Julia snickered.
Micah neared, his biceps and forearms flexing beautifully as he steered the wheelchair to a stop before us. “Dad, this is Kate Landry and Julia Reed.” He moved to stand beside his father. “This my dad, Gary Guidry.”
We exchanged handshakes, and I was pleasantly surprised to find Mr. Gary’s grip firm. If it hadn’t been for the wheelchair, he’d be the picture of perfect health. “Kate Landry.” His attention rested on me. “The one who owns the beignet joint?”
I smiled at his candid description. “Yes, sir.”
“It’s been years since I’ve been there.” He adjusted the Bible on his lap.
“You’re welcome anytime,” I said. “My treat.”
His cheeks lifted on his kind face. “Thank you. That’s a nice offer.”
“Very nice.” Micah rubbed the edge of his jaw, a mild smirk tugging his lips. Too much flirting infused those two words. He wasn’t honoring the rules I’d put in place on that bench in City Park. The scoundrel.
Julia tucked her brown hair behind her ear. “My husband and I are having a crawfish boil this afternoon, if y’all would like to come.”
I turned my incredulous stare on Julia and began a con-con list on her in my mind. Double-crosser went in the first spot.
“Thank you, but we have plans with my daughter.” Mr. Gary’s gaze shifted between me and Julia, and a twinkle overtook his eyes. “Unless y’all like to play poker. Nothing goes better with crawfish than poker.”
Micah cut a glance to his dad. “Renee’s got a family lunch lined up for us.” He turned his attention to Julia. “But thank you for the invite.”
My shoulders relaxed a fraction, and I drew in a deep breath through my nose. The last thing I’d needed was an entire afternoon of dodging Micah Guidry within the confines of Julia’s house.
Micah scanned the area around us. “I thought I saw Hayley earlier.”
“You did.” I shifted my purse to my other hand. “She left with Emma. They’re having a sleepover.”
Micah’s sweeping gaze halted, his attention swinging my way and locking onto my face. “Really?”
Whimpering whippets. My handbag slipped from my grasp, plopping to the floor. Why had my tongue added that tidbit? Was an internal mutiny happening? What would be next? My appendix? My heart? Uh-uh. No way.
In a flash, Micah retrieved my bag. “So she’s with Emma until tomorrow?” His strong eye contact brimmed with interest.
Clamping my teeth on my traitorous tongue, I gave one brisk nod. He handed me my purse, his fingers purposely grazing mine in the exchange. Landry Mask! Landry Mask! That was two of my friendship stipulations broken! In front of his dad! And at church! With our pastor a stone’s throw away! Didn’t pastors have some sort of sin radar? Or, in this case, a rascal radar?
“Rule breaker,” I muttered.
Smile lines fanned at his eyes.
In my peripheral, Julia’s sharp attention moved between Micah and me, taking note of every detail. Warily, I turned her way. I imagined a handle cranking in her brain like a jack-in-the-box toy, her thoughts churning and ultimately crafting a devious scheme. Her gaze slowly crept from me to Micah, and as though that final crank had rotated, her mouth popped open. “You know,” she said to him, “you could always stop by later for dessert. We’re all just going to be hanging out for a while anyway.”
Betrayer and busybody autofilled on her list beneath double-crosser.
Micah rocked back on his heels. “I may take you up on that.”
Julia wisely shifted away from me. “If you give me your number, I’ll text you the address.”
No. I did not want Julia having Micah’s number. Her meddling would know no bounds. “I’ll send it to you,” I blurted.
One corner of his mouth twitched. “Will you?”
Despite the fire once again blooming in my tattling cheeks, I narrowed my gaze. “Yes, I will.”