Hometown Love (4 page)

“Yeah, Grace wanted to come.” The person in front of him at the concession table moved and Mack stepped forward. He glanced over the freshly-made donuts. “I’ll take two of the apple cider and two of the powdered, please, Mrs. Mitchell.”

“I was so glad when I heard you were moving in next door, Matthew,” Mrs. Mitchell said.

Although everyone else in his life called him Mack, Mrs. Mitchell insisted on calling everyone by his or her true name.

“Where’s your daughter?” she asked, looking around.

“With Jessie.” He pointed in their direction.

“Grace does love my granddaughter,” Mrs. Quinn chimed in. “If your mom brings Grace to quilting club, she doesn’t leave Jessie alone.”

Mack accepted the donuts, surprised he was hearing about all of this now. To the best of his knowledge, Grace had never mentioned Jessie. Mack moved down the line to pick out drinks and pay.

Before he left Mrs. Mitchell called out to him. “If you ever need anything, please just stop in, Matthew. That’s what neighbors are for.”

Mack nodded.

“And what can I get you, Alfred?” He heard Mrs. Mitchell ask his friend, and for half a second he wondered who she was talking to. He, like just about everyone else in town, had called his friend Striker so long, he’d forgotten his real name.

Next to him, Striker grumbled a response but didn’t correct the old widow. No one in town ever did. 
Man it’s good to be back.

“Anything else, Mack?” Mrs. O’Brien, who sat with the other two women, asked.

Mack held out a ten. “Two bottles of water, please.”

With a nod, Mrs. O’Brien grabbed two waters from the cooler. “The same goes for me, Mack. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call or come over.” She handed him his change.

“Thanks.”

Mack waited for Striker to pay for his food and then they walked back toward Jessie and Grace.

“I don’t know why she does that. Not even my mother calls me Alfred.” Striker opened his water bottle.

Mack couldn’t blame his friend. He wouldn’t want to be called Alfred either. “You could always correct her.”

Striker threw him a 
get-real
look.

“Do you want to join us, Alfred?” Mack asked when they stopped at the table.

Striker elbowed him in the ribs. “Another time. Nicole’s waiting for me.” He gestured toward a woman seated at another table.

Mack tried to place Nicole as he put down the food.

“Who’s Alfred?” Grace asked from the other side of Jessie.

“What?”

“Who’s Alfred?” Grace asked again as she reached for a donut.

“Just giving Striker a hard time. His real name is Alfred.” To make the conversation with both his daughter and Jessie easier, he took a seat on the other side of the table.

Grace considered his answer as she started on an apple cider donut. “Why do you call him Striker?”

“It’s a nickname. Like you calling Jessie Jessie, when her real name is Jessica.”

“But Striker doesn’t sound like Alfred. I thought a nickname sounded like your real name.”

He could understand how she’d reached that conclusion. “Sometimes, but not always.”

“Striker is his last name,” Jessie added.

Happy with the answers, Grace fell silent as she munched on her snack.

Before Mack could continue his conversation with Jessie, she raised a hand and waved at someone.

“Maryanne and Kelsey just got here. I’m going to say hello.” She pushed back her chair, prepared to leave. “I know you have your mom and sister to help out, but if you need anything, let me know. I’m always around.”

“Thanks.” Mack watched Jessie walk toward Maryanne and Kelsey, both life-long North Salem residents, and was again surprised by the physical changes in her. Maybe everything in North Salem didn’t always remain the same. Jessie Quinn certainly hadn’t, and he wasn’t the only one who noticed how great she looked tonight. He saw several other guys watching her as she walked away and he understood why.

Jessie turned the corner just in time to stop the blue painters’ tape with her foot before it could roll any farther down the aisle. Then she turned the cardboard display, which held the tape, upright again.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Tina Adams said as she bent to help Jessie pick up the rolls now covering the floor. “Gabe, help Miss Jessie pick up this mess.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tina. It was an accident.” An accident most likely caused by Gabe, who still stood with both hands on the handle of his baby brother’s stroller.

Tina haphazardly stacked a few rolls of tape on the shelf. “Gabe likes to help me push his brother,” she said confirming Jessie’s suspicions that he’d knocked into the display.

“This thing gets knocked over at least once a week.” Jessie exaggerated a little. Actually, in the two months it’d been up, only one other person had knocked it over. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to fix it. You can finish your shopping.” 
And head home before your son causes any more damage
. Jessie watched as Gabe took off down the aisle, pushing the stroller as fast as he could, his baby brother laughing the whole time.

“Thanks, Jessie.” Leaving the mess behind, Tina hurried after her sons.

With a little shake of her head, Jessie finished putting the display back together and then continued on toward aisle six, her original destination. Earlier that morning, Phil Larson had called looking for ten more cases of slate tiles. She’d promised to check and get back to him. Although a simple task, this was the first time all day she’d had the opportunity to check.

Once in aisle six, Jessie scanned the shelves looking for the right item code. After finding it, she counted the number of cases left. Perfect; they had three here and nine in the backroom, enough to give Phil what he needed and not wipe out their inventory. With one more thing crossed off her morning To-Do list, Jessie made her way back to her small office. As a child, she’d spent countless days in this same office with her grandfather as he managed the store. Now it was hers.

In a way, she knew her grandfather would’ve loved to turn everything over to his only son. Unfortunately, her dad had never been interested in the store. All her life he’d driven tractor-trailers cross-country, sometimes spending a week or more away from North Salem. As a result, she’d been raised more or less by her grandparents, with her father stopping home between runs. These days, he was around more, but he still had no interest in the family business. Instead, he spent his days driving trailers for a New England-based grocery store, which at least allowed him to return home each night. That didn’t mean they saw each other all that much more. Not long after her father had given up cross-country driving and moved back into Blackthorne Farm, her grandparents home, she’d moved into her own apartment.

For the most part, she tried not to resent her father’s decision to keep driving those long hauls after her birth. After all, he had only been twenty when she was born and his wife had died during childbirth. Then the woman he’d married two years later divorced him. Finding oneself as a single parent at that age would be rough on anyone. And her grandparents had given her the love of four parents, but still, it would’ve been nice if her father had been around more.

As if thoughts of her grandfather had conjured him up, he appeared in the doorway. He still came in a few days a week, but it was more of a way for him to get out of the house than because the store needed him. As someone who had worked hard all his life, he found retirement difficult.

“Sean’s out front looking for you, honey. If you’re busy, I can help him.”

“I got it, Gramps. Thanks. But I saw Rex come in a little while ago.” Jessie came around from behind her desk. Rex often stopped in to enjoy the free coffee and talk with her grandfather. “I just made a fresh pot fifteen minutes ago and grabbed some of those crawlers you like from Peggy Sue’s. There were still some left when I checked.” After dropping a kiss on her grandfather’s cheek, she went to the front of the store where Sean stood talking to Brian, a high school student who worked there.

“Sorry I never got here yesterday,” he said, after ending his other conversation. “I had dinner with Taylor and my father,” he explained, referring to his much younger half-sister.

She noticed that when he mentioned his dad, Sean no longer sounded bitter, a huge change from a few months ago. “Don’t worry about it. How’s Taylor?” She’d only met Taylor once since the girl had entered Sean and Charlie’s lives, but she seemed like a nice kid.

“Good. She’s looking forward to skiing this winter.” Sean followed Jessie toward the backroom where special orders were stored.

“This one is yours.” She pointed to the huge box as she hit the button that raised the garage-style door. Sean had picked up enough orders over the years to know he should park his truck near the door.

“Do you want me to get Brian to help you?” She stepped outside for a moment of fresh air.

“I’ll help you with it,” Mack said from the parking spot next to Sean’s truck as he helped Grace out.

“You promised we’d pick out paint,” Grace said, stepping between the two vehicles, a slight whine coming out in her voice.

“We will. This won’t take long. Promise.”

Jessie heard the note of irritation in Mack’s voice and wondered if the father and daughter had a rough morning. “If you want, I can bring Grace inside to start looking. Just close the door when you’re done.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be right in.”

Jessie took Grace by the hand and led her through the back room. “Did you have fun last night?”

“I got to stay up past my bedtime.”

As a little girl, staying up past her bedtime had always seemed like a major event to Jessie, and evidently it was universal for all children. “I’ll tell you a secret. So did I.” Jessie kept her voice low as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

Grace giggled. “Adults don’t have a bedtime.”

“Says who?” Jessie led her toward the display of paint cards.

“Adults go to bed when they want,” Grace answered with authority. “Nobody tells Daddy when to go to bed.”

A vision of Mrs. Ellsbury telling an adult Mack to brush his teeth and go to bed passed through Jessie’s head and she laughed. “I guess you’re right.” Together they stopped, a rainbow of color before them. “Let’s start over here. That’s where all the pinks are.” Jessie pointed to an area filled with everything from pastel to neon.

When Mack joined them a few minutes later, Grace already had several color samples in her hand.

“I see you’ve already found some, buddy.”

Jessie hadn’t noticed last night, but now, seeing Mack next to his daughter, she realized they looked nothing alike except for their eyes. They were the same shape and the same shade of light hazel. But while Mack’s hair was almost black, Grace sported two lopsided strawberry-blonde pigtails. Her skin was fair with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and Jessie suspected she burned easily if she spent too much time in the sun. Mack’s skin was a few shades darker

“These are just the pink ones.” Grace handed her father the cards and moved down toward the purples, her hand immediately going for the brightest, most vibrant shade available.

Mack shuffled through the cards, then looked up at Jessie. “People buy these colors?”

“You’d be surprised.” 
You’re in big trouble, Mack.

“Here, Daddy.” Grace held up another set of cards.

Without a word, he added them to his stack and began sorting them, discarding some on a shelf as he went.

“That’s my favorite,” Grace said when one particular card joined the stack forming on the shelf.

A pink almost as bright as a highlighter, Jessie cringed at the thought of an entire room that shade.

“Way too bright.” Mack continued to add cards to his rejection pile. “How about this one?” He held up a card and pointed to the third square on the bottom; a shade of pink so light it appeared almost white.

Grace shook her head, her pigtails swinging back and forth. “I like this one.” She grabbed the bright pink card from the rejection pile.

“Sorry, Grace, but we’re not painting your room that color,” Mack said.

Understanding Grace’s displeasure in Mack’s choices, Jessie pointed to the card in Mack’s hand. “I think we have something similar to that, but with a touch more color.” A quick glance over at the display revealed what she wanted. “What about this?” She handed Mack the card, her hand brushing against his. The brief contact sent a spark of excitement up her arm.

“This would be okay.”

“It’s too light.” Grace crossed her arms and frowned.

“I think it is really pretty, and maybe your dad will let you get some decals to decorate the wall. They come off easily so you can move them around when you’re ready for a change.”

Grace studied the color again. “Can I get some?”

Mack nodded just as his cell phone went off. “Grace, it’s work. I have to take this,” he said as he pulled the phone from his pocket.

“I can show Grace the decals if you want.” Jessie figured it would keep the little girl occupied while he took the call.

“Thanks. I’ll be as quick as I can, Grace.”

Mack stepped away and Jessie took Grace farther down the aisle. “We just got in a bunch of new princess decals and I know we have some animal ones, too.”

Grace looked through various decals, picking out her favorites and handing them to Jessie. Soon, Jessie held several packages containing various princesses and one with puppies. “Do you think Daddy will let me get them all?” She handed Jessie yet another package.

Unsure of just how many Mack would get, Jessie was careful with her answer. “Maybe you should pick the ones you like the most for now.”

“Hell.” Mack’s muttered oath had her looking up in his direction. As he came toward them with a scowl on his face, he raised his phone to his ear again. “We need to go, buddy. I’m sorry.” He looked down at Grace, the phone still next to his ear as if waiting for someone to answer.

“But Daddy we didn’t—”

Mack pulled the phone away from his ear. “We’ll come back this week.” He looked away from Grace and at Jessie.

“Have you seen my mother or father today, Jessie?”

“No. Is everything okay?”

“Emergency at work. I need to go in. Erin’s on her way to New York to see her in-laws and neither my mother nor father are answering. I need to find someone to watch Grace.”

Mack worked as a task force officer with the FBI now, and if he was getting called in on his day off, it must be serious. “She can stay with me. I’m leaving here at one when Ty comes in,” she said, referring to her assistant manager.

Mack considered her offer. “I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

“I can keep trying your mom and bring Grace over if I get her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Don’t worry about it.”

Relief replaced the concern on Mack’s face and he knelt down in front of Grace. “As much as I’d rather stay with you, I need to go into work. You be a good girl for Jessie. We’ll get decals and paint tomorrow.”

“I’ll be good. Promise,” Grace answered, all the excitement from earlier exiting her body.

“My cell number is on here.” Mack handed Jessie a business card he pulled from his wallet. “Text me if you bring her to my mom’s house. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll pick her up at your house. Are you still at your grandparent’s place?”

Without looking at the card, she slipped it into her jeans pocket. “No, I live in the apartment building next to the Jade Orient on the second floor.”

“Okay. Thanks again. I owe you one, Jessie.” Then after giving Grace a kiss and hug, he hurried out the door.

Oh, man she’d love to collect on that promise.

***

The phone call that morning from his ex-wife should have given him an idea of how the rest of his day would play out. For the most part, Bethany called every Thursday to talk to Grace and then arranged to see her once or twice a month. Since today was Sunday, he’d known something was up as soon as he saw the call was from her. Sure enough she’d called to let him know she couldn’t see Grace this upcoming weekend as planned. This was the second time in a row she’d canceled. The last time Grace had seen her mother had been almost five weeks ago. Much to his gratitude, Grace had taken the news well this morning, perhaps because Bethany’s behavior wasn’t anything new. Since their initial separation, she often canceled planned visits. Even before the divorce, she’d not been what he’d call a hands-on mother. While during the week they had both worked and Grace had gone to daycare, on the weekend Bethany had often gone shopping or spent time with friends rather than with him and Grace. When Grace had taken swim lessons at the local gym, he’d been the one to take her most Saturday mornings. Yeah, Grace had spent her entire life coming in second place in her mother’s life, which explained why she’d handled Bethany’s absence so well.

Nope, the change in plans hadn’t been the thing to set Grace off into a thirty minute long temper tantrum, a fit that might not have been so bad if she had not gone to bed so late two nights in a row. He should’ve anticipated the meltdown the moment she asked about the dog again. Instead of flat-out saying no, he should have said he’d think about it. Those simple words would have allowed him to bypass the resulting fit. He hated to lie to his daughter though, and while he was open to getting a dog at some point, it was not happening this month.