Almost Home (19 page)

“Oh, dear God, give me strength.” Stef rolled her eyes heavenward. “You did not just say that.”

“How else to explain the steady stream of eligible—and dare I say hot?—guys less than a week after I—”

“—after you read some random words from a dusty old book that an old woman stashed in her attic
a million years ago. Come on, Ness, you don’t believe in any of that.”

“Well, I admit I didn’t use to. And I certainly didn’t last week. But you have to admit it’s strange timing.”

Stef held up one finger. “Wade stopped over to bring me a ladder because he wanted to help and because, well, because there’s some unfinished business between us.” She held up a second finger. “Jesse stopped over because I’m his client and because he doesn’t know many people his own age here in town and he figures friendship with me could lead to some sort of social life for him because I know everyone within a fifty-mile radius of St. Dennis.” A third finger went up. “Clay stopped over to thank me because I gave his orchard a little free advertising last week.”

She wagged all three fingers in front of Vanessa’s face.

“No spell, Ness. Just coincidence.”

“Grady always says there’s no such thing as coincidence.”

“Grady was in the FBI for a long time. He learned to interpret things logically. Which is exactly what I’m doing.”

“You say logic, you say coincidence, I say spells.” Vanessa fought a smile, then closed her eyes and waved one hand slowly back and forth in front of her face. “I see … I see another tall, handsome man in your future …”

“I see … one bat-shit crazy woman.” Steffie laughed and headed for Scoop, thinking that Vanessa’s occasional wackiness aside, having a best friend who could almost make you believe in magic wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

I
T’S
one thing to be in demand,” Steffie told Tina “but it’s something else entirely to be overextended. There’s just too much going on right now. If I’m lucky, I may get some sleep by Halloween.”

“So bring in a few more part-timers,” Tina suggested. “You already have Claire, and I’m available for full time for as long as you need me.”

“You’re hired.” Steffie pulled up the shades in the windows that faced the Bay. “How ’bout your daughter? What does she have going on after school?”

“Not a whole lot right now. She’s off the field hockey team since she injured her knee, so she’s free in the afternoon. How many extra hands do you think you’ll need?”

“Maybe two or three, and I’ll only need them for ten days.”

“I’ll check with Heather and see if she and one or two of her friends could come in.”

“Great. As long as I can get a few hours each day.” Steffie turned the “Closed” sign to “Open.” “I leave it in your hands. I’ve been so busy these past few days,
I haven’t even gotten to stop at my house.” She smiled dreamily. “My glorious house …”

“Bit off more than you can chew?” Tina opened the cash register for the day.

“Well, you make the call.” Stef opened one of the windows to let in some fresh morning air. “We have chocolate, vanilla, and chocolate mint for the run on Saturday, and the lavender honey for the one hundred fifty or so guests who’ll be attending Dallas’s birthday party the following week. My brother wants that to be a surprise, so I’m not supposed to tell anyone I’m making it.” She rolled her eyes. “And I still have to make my daily supply for the shop.”

“I’m almost afraid to remind you that you agreed to make chocolate monster mash for the annual St. Dennis Halloween Parade.”

“Arrgghh! Someone just take me outside, stand me up against the wall, and shoot me.” Steffie pretended to pound her head on the cooler.

“Oh, can I have Scoop?” Tina’s sister, Claire, asked brightly as she reported in for the morning. “Waterfront anything is so pricey these days.”

“And if you’d leave me your new house, I’d be really happy,” Tina added. “I could sell it and use the proceeds to pay the tuition bills. Did I mention that my daughter Amanda wants to go to law school?”

“Sure.” Steffie tossed a container of vanilla beans onto the work station. “And feel free to dance on my grave after the will is read.”

“Will do.” Tina grinned, then added with due solemnity, “Respectfully, of course.”

*   *   *

Stef had wisely moved her alarm clock into the bathroom on Friday night so she’d be forced to get up and turn off the noise, which grew ever louder between the time it began as a soft buzz until it was silenced with a smack. By the time she made it to the bathroom, it had reached jackhammer level. Grumbling and groaning, she showered and dressed in a T-shirt that had
RUN FOR NATALIE
on the front, and a picture of Nat before she began treatments screened onto the back. According to Grant, they’d made several hundred dollars on the sale of the shirts during the two weeks since they’d been selling, and he expected to double that by selling them at the registration table.

“By the end of the day, we should have a very nice check to donate for leukemia research,” Grant told her when he called her on Friday night. “Did you know that Sips is donating half their profits tomorrow? When Carlo at Cuppachino found out, he said he’d match it.”

“I did hear that.” Steffie had nodded. “I also heard that Olivia is having a ‘Buy a Rose for Natalie’ special all day. She’s selling single pink roses and donating all the receipts. I love the way everyone has taken to this fund-raiser. Mom and Dad are really touched that so many people in town have stepped up to participate.”

“So, got enough ice cream?” Grant asked.

“Only by the skin of my teeth and the help of Tina’s daughter and one of her friends.”

“Training the competition, are we?”

“Only in the basics, like cleaning the machines between batches and making sure there are cold canisters and chopping mint and vanilla beans and stuff
like that. For the actual brewing, you need the master’s touch.”

“Since when do you
brew
ice cream?” She could almost see him smirking.

“I’m hanging up on you now. But be warned that I plan to take you tomorrow,” she told him. “I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line when you crawl across it.”

“You wish,” he snorted, and hung up.

Stef
was
waiting at the finish line on Saturday when Grant crossed it, but not because she’d beaten him. As it turned out, she was only ten minutes into the race when she remembered that she hadn’t unlocked the back door at Scoop. The volunteers who were going to set up the ice-cream tables would need to get into the storage room to bring out the boxes of plastic spoons and paper cups and napkins. Reluctantly, she jogged back down Kelly’s Point Road to her shop. By the time she’d opened the building, helped to bring out the supplies, and took a shortcut back to Charles Street, the first runners were just crossing the finish line. She took a bottle of water from the table that was set up to supply the runners and twisted off the cap, poured a bit into the palm of one hand, then with her fingers, spritzed her face, arms, and neck.

She was in the process of trying to make herself look sweaty when Wade crossed the finish line.

“Hey,” he said as he doubled over momentarily to catch his breath.

“Hey back.”

“You showering or are you trying to cool off?” he asked, his breath ragged from exertion.

“What?”

“The water.” He gestured toward the bottle. “I saw you sprinkling it all over you.”

“Oh. That.” She bit the inside of her lip and tried to think fast.

He walked off to cool down and get his breathing under control.

“Wow, you really did it,” Grant exclaimed when he finished the race. “I can’t believe it, but there you are. How’d you do it?”

“Training and superior athleticism,” she told him.

“When did you have time to train?” He grabbed a bottle from one of the volunteers. “And when did you become an athlete?”

“I’d have expected you to be a more gracious loser,” she said solemnly.

“I smell a rat.” Grant narrowed his eyes. He saw Wade leaning against the table, a grin on his face. “Were you here when she crossed the line? Did you see her finish?”

Wade shrugged. “She looks pretty sweaty to me.”

“You will never stop underestimating your little sister.” Stef smiled and poked Grant in the ribs. “I’ll see you down at Scoop.”

“Did she cross that finish line?” she heard him asking one of the volunteers as she walked away. “Did you actually see her …?”

“Stef, wait up,” Wade called to her, and she half turned to see him walking toward her. “What are you up to?”

“What do you mean?”

He laughed and gestured toward Grant, who was still trying to find someone who saw Stef finish the race.

“Just a little sibling fun. Thanks for not blowing the whistle on me.”

“Anything to get in your good graces.” He came closer, close enough for Steffie to see the beads of sweat—real sweat—on his forehead.

“You mean you’re sucking up to me?”

“Right.”

“For what purpose?” Her eyes narrowed and she tried to ignore just how good he looked in running shorts, a tank top, and sweat.

“I’d think it’s obvious.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Ice cream, of course. I crave it. You’ve got it.” His expression was solemn but his eyes danced.

“Which flavor?” she deadpanned.

“I kinda liked the stuff I had that first night I was here.”

“Ah, yes. Chocolate monster mash.” She nodded. “The favorite of little boys everywhere.”

He laughed and she told him, “Stop down at Scoop sometime. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

She knew he was watching her as she walked away, could feel his eyes on her back and her legs and her backside. She wondered if he liked what he saw, and she wondered it he’d lost as much sleep these past few days thinking about kissing her again as she’d lost thinking about kissing him.

“Stef.”

She paused at the sound of her name, and turned to see Wade jogging down the path toward her. “Wait up.”

She took the cap off her water bottle and took a long drink.

“I’ll walk down to Kelly’s Point with you.” He met
up with her on the path where she waited. “So this is the back door between Scoop and the end of the race.”

Steffie laughed. “I’m surprised Grant didn’t figure it out. The path runs right behind the police station and comes out at the top of the hill. Everyone in town knows it’s there.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s because the municipal building wasn’t there when you lived in St. Dennis. It’s only about six years old.”

“When I was growing up here, the police station was at the end of Charles Street on the way out to Cannonball Island.”

“I remember.”

The path narrowed, forcing them to walk a little closer. Their hips grazed as they made their way down the hill, their hands brushing against each other’s. Where the incline was steepest, she stumbled slightly, and he grabbed her hand to keep her from falling.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yes. Sorry. I need to watch where I’m going.”

She had righted herself, but he hadn’t let go of her hand. That small gesture, the casual mingling of their fingers, felt like a promise yet to be fulfilled.

“Where’s the little guy?” she asked.

“He’s with Berry and Dallas. Cody was going to try to run with Clay and Logan. I doubt they made it to the finish line.”

“Bring Austin over for ice cream later.”

“Will do.”

They’d reached the end of the path, and when they rounded the municipal building, a line had already
formed for ice cream. It snaked from the tables set up near Scoop right along the edge of the parking lot.

“Holy crap,” she exclaimed.

“Looks like you’re going to be busy for a while.” He stopped at the end of the parking lot. “Do you need any help?”

“I think I’ll be all right, thanks. I brought in extra hands for today.”

“Guess I should let you go, then.”

“Guess so.”

“I’ll see you later.” He released her hand.

She nodded and made her way through the crowd to the tables, where her employees were already hard at work.

“Wow, do you believe this crowd?” Stef said as she approached the table.

“People have been lining up for the past ten minutes,” Tina told her. “This is going to be a long day.”

“Won’t be if we run out of ice cream,” Stef said from the corner of her mouth.

“I think next year we go with three tables,” Tina whispered, and headed back to the freezer for another container of chocolate.

“I think next year we go to Jamaica,” Stef muttered, and picked up her scoop. “I hope we have enough to finish out today.”

Forty minutes later, there were still people in line.

“How’s it going?” Jesse Enright appeared at her left elbow.

“My wrist is killing me, if you want to know the truth,” she told him.

“Here, let me spell you for a little while.” He stashed a water bottle and a T-shirt under the table,
and then reached for the scoop she was holding and took it from her hand. “I worked in a deli when I was in college. I sling a mean scoop. Give yourself a little break.”

“Maybe just for a few minutes.” She handed over the scoop gratefully and rubbed her wrist, and watched him dish out the next few cups of ice cream. Satisfied that he was up to the job, she excused herself for a moment and went inside for some ice for her wrist. She knew that a minute wasn’t near enough time to do much good, but the ice felt really great while she held it on there and she popped a few Advil before grabbing an extra scoop and going back outside. She stepped next to Jesse at the table and shared the duties with him for the next forty minutes.