Chapter 18 #2
“It’s what Jace Morgenstern says all the time. ‘Duh!’”
He didn’t want to talk about the Morgensterns.
All the food in his cupboards, fridge, and freezer mocked him, but he decided on the fly to take the easy way.
“How would you like to go to Greta’s for lunch?” Love You Bakery was the official name of the local café, but everyone in town just called it Greta’s, after the owner and founder.
Harriet squealed with glee.
“It’s their rush time, kiddo. We might have to wait in line for a long time.”
“Can we eat at the counter?”
“Only if there’s room.”
“I can be patient and wait.”
Hah. Right. He knew her definition of patience was three seconds, but he also knew he had ten hours with her ahead of him, and if he did something fun like this, it would make the day better.
Plus, who wanted to turn down a hot Love You Bakery brunch?
“We’ll go to Greta’s on one condition,” he announced.
“What’s a condition?”
Requests for word definitions were becoming increasingly complex, he’d noticed, always marveling at how Harriet seemed to just grow on her own.
“It’s a stipulation,” he replied, realizing that didn’t help. “A rule.”
“What’s your rule for going to Greta’s?”
“We have to walk.”
“That’s not a rule! That’s fun!”
It was too cold to bring Jester and make him sit outside while they ate brunch, so he gave the old boy some fresh water and food, and soon he and Harriet were on their way, walking hand in hand. As they reached Mrs. Petrinelli’s house, he braced himself.
She would be offended by Kylie being Nicole’s replacement.
“Luke! Luke!” Waving hard, she came onto the porch, coat clearly thrown on in haste, half open as she squeezed it together. “How are you?”
“Doing great. You?”
“I see you have a new nanny.”
“We do.”
“She’s Mark Hood’s daughter. Poor dear.”
The mention of Kylie’s dad’s name took him back. Way back. The Hood family had been part of Luview since Mark Hood’s dad bought a summer home long ago. It’s where Kylie and her family lived fifteen years ago, after the summer cottage had been fully winterized and expanded.
Kylie was a townie because she’d been born and raised here, but long-time townsfolk considered Mark an outsider because he’d taken over his father’s vacation home.
But everyone still knew all their business.
And Mark Hood had cheated on Kylie’s mom. Talked about it openly at Bilbee’s Tavern. That’s why they’d moved so fast.
“Kylie’s a grown woman with a life of her own, Mrs. Petrinelli,” he reminded her, hoping to head off gossip but knowing the gesture was futile.
Had to try anyway.
“I see you’ve noticed she’s a grown woman.”
Did the old lady just wink at him?
“We’re headed to Greta’s and don’t want to miss getting a seat. Need anything from there?” he called out as they kept walking.
“No, but thank you! I already got my apple fritter and my Sunday newspaper.” She waved back and went inside, her daily dose of town dirt like drinking a cup of morning coffee.
As he and Harriet made their way to Main Street, it hit him: This was life now.
Everyone would ask about Kylie.
He had to accept it. Reality couldn’t be wished away.
Not that he wished her away. Just the busybody intrusion.
“Can I get a chocolate chip waffle? And bacon?” Harriet asked as they reached Greta’s, which occupied an old, three-story house, now converted into a café.
The outside was done in painted lady style, a perfect combo of white, pink, and red, with hearts carved out of all the trim, the shingled sections of the siding cut into heart shapes, too.
Love You Bakery looked like Cupid puked all over it.
The third floor was an apartment, but the first and second floors held the kitchen, hostess area, and dining areas. Each room was painted in bright colors, with comfortable recliners in corners for people to sit and sip coffee.
Sundays were busy. Every seat was taken, and about ten people waited in the foyer.
Which was a light crowd.
In February, the lines were half a block long.
“Luke!” Wolf, Greta’s son, gave him a hearty greeting, a nod for Harriet enough to make her wave back. A beefy guy with short hair and two gray stripes running down his beard at the chin, he hummed to himself as he worked the hostess station, jotting down names without asking.
Party of two, Luke and Harriet.
As always.
“Hey, Wolf. What’s the wait?”
He looked at the counter. “Got two seats if you want ’em, but first I have to check with Joe.” He turned to someone Luke didn’t recognize, a rarity in Luview, though Greta’s was well enough known that out-of-towners came for Sunday brunch.
“Hey Joe–you still want to wait for a table?”
Joe looked to be about ninety, with a wife not much younger, both smiling.
Joe patted his cane. “No counter. Bones too fragile. Go on and give it to them.” Friendly smiles were exchanged, and soon Harriet and Luke had their heart-shaped, red-vinyl-covered counter stools, right near the noisy cash register, but seats were seats on a Sunday at Greta’s. Maple and sage filled his nose.
“Same as always?” Marni asked from behind the counter, slapping two waters, a cup of coffee, and a kid’s orange juice in front of them. Every glass and mug was a heart. Most people drank from the point.
“Chocolate chip waffle and bacon, please!” Harriet peeped, reaching for the cup of ragtag crayons next to the sugar dispenser, beginning to draw on her placemat.
Greta and Wolf included all 64 crayon colors in their choices, unlike Love You Coffee, which took the town’s colors to the extreme: only red, white, and pink crayons for kids.
All of Harriet’s drawings done there had pink skies and red lawns.
“I’ll have an everything omelet this time,” Luke said. “Rye toast.”
Marni was Wolf’s daughter, sixteen and whip smart, with an eyebrow piercing that went up as she questioned his choice.
“You always get the Western omelet.”
“I’m exploring life. Taking risks. Living on the edge.”
“Old people are so weird.” With a sniff, she walked into the kitchen.
If Luke was old, what was Greta?
Speaking of whom…
“Lukey!” The old woman still had a trace of her German accent, enough to notice but not so much that she was hard to understand. She was somewhere north of seventy and knew everyone in town.
Greta was the only person in Luview who could get away with calling him Lukey. Even his mom wasn’t allowed.
Anymore.
Luke stood, bending down to give her a hug. As people grew older here, he noticed, they became more affectionate. Women hugged more. Men shook hands and clapped backs. Grounding yourself in others might be a function of age? He’d find out soon enough.
If he were lucky enough to grow old.
“Heard you lost your nanny to Hollywood.”
“Yeah.”
“But got a new one already.” Greta winked. “Your old flame.”
Oh, no.
“Not an old flame, Greta. An old friend from high school.”
“Don’t try to snow me. I hear everything. You and Kylie Hood are the talk of the town.”
“Then the town must be as boring as people over in Conway say, because I’m not interesting.”
“Says who? You must be blind to how many women are interested in you, Luke.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“If I am, will it get me anywhere?”
“Tutti! Cut it out. Leave the poor guy alone,” Wolf shouted from the grill through the pickup window.
Greta called back something in German that made Wolf wave his spatula at her in mock anger, but the guy grinned as he went back to the grill.
Half the customers laughed, though Luke was unsettled to see more than a few women nodding in agreement with Greta.
It’s not like he didn’t know some women found him attractive.
He just wasn’t interested.
“Speak of the devil… I mean, nanny,” Greta purred, mouth curling into a delighted smile as Luke watched her write the gossip in her mind in real time.
Following her gaze, his heart leapt at the sight of Kylie walking up to the pastry counter and pointing to a loaded brownie.
It was cut in the shape of a heart, with pink cream cheese frosting lining the edges.
She held up two fingers and Marni grabbed them with wax paper and put them in a white bakery bag.
“KYLIE!” Greta bellowed. If Luke had any hope of a quiet brunch with his daughter, it all died with that one word.
Phones came out. Women glared. People huddled. Men grinned.
And Harriet squealed.
Embarrassment radiated from Kylie as she accepted the bakery bag from Marni, her other hand busy paying with her card in a swipe machine. It was clear she wasn’t accustomed to being the center of attention in a crowd.
Though he was certain she was used to plenty of admiring gazes. Something feral in him rose up as he noticed how many men were noticing her.
Too many.
“Hi?” she said back to Greta, voice going up like a question.
“What took you so long to come back?” Greta demanded.
The visible draining of tension in Kylie’s shoulders filled Luke with a warm sense of appreciation, and a dawning realization. She didn’t feel like she belonged here.
But he could tell she wanted to.
“Born and raised here,” he declared, voice meant to carry.
A few nods, some raised eyebrows, and still plenty of attention. Folks were enjoying the spectacle, sizing up the situation as if he and Kylie were an episode of a reality television show.
Love You, Widower Single Dad Edition.
Before Kylie could muster up something to say, she glanced out the window, did a double take, and pointed.
A woman in a long, beige down parka, New England Patriots knitted hat, and reflective sunglasses walked past, an animal on a leash before her.
But it wasn’t a dog.
“Is that a pig? No. Wait. A boar? A–what on earth is she walking?” Kylie wondered aloud.
“Capybara.” Luke couldn’t believe he was saying it, but...
“Sappy what?”
“Capybara.” He laughed, standing up to talk to her. “We’re all used to Mel walking weird things around town.”
The change in conversation seemed to make people look away. Unlike Kylie, they were used to Mel’s antics.