Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2) (11 page)

“I miss her.” Prim stared at the card in her hand. “I wish I could talk with her now.”

Ami placed the tray on the table, handed Prim a mug, then nudged the plate with the bars closer. “It’s hard when there’s something in your life you want to share with her. I think of all those confusing feelings I had when I first met Beck. I really wanted her at my wedding.”

“We were lucky to have had her for our mom.” Prim sighed. “We could talk with her about anything.”

Ami nodded. After taking a slow sip of coffee, she wrapped her hands around the cup.

“I used to believe that things would make more sense when I got older. I’ve discovered sometimes life just gets more confusing.” Prim ran her finger around the edge of one of the recipe cards, her thoughts returning, as they had all morning, to Max.

“Mom may be gone, but you can talk to me. About anything.” Ami reached over and gave Prim’s hand a squeeze. Instead of releasing it immediately, she held on, those green eyes steady on Prim’s.

“I think I’m falling in love with Max,” Prim blurted out. “Or maybe I always have been, just a little.”

If the admission shocked Ami, it didn’t show.

“He’s so great. So good to me and the boys. We share so many interests and we have fun. He seems to genuinely like spending time with me.”

“Of course he does, why wouldn’t he?”

“Rory didn’t.” Prim dropped her gaze to the recipe cards. “Or, he did, but not as much as he liked his adventures with his friends.”

“Max isn’t Rory.”

“I know, but I’m still scared.”

Ami’s fingers tightened on her hand. “Tell me what you’re scared of?”

“That Max will grow tired of me.” Prim whispered the words though she and Ami were alone in the house. “That I won’t be enough to keep his interest.”

“Oh, honey.” Ami reached up with her free hand to brush a lock of hair back from her sister’s face, the gesture reminding Prim of something their mother might have done. “You’re a wonderful woman, and any man would be lucky to have you in his life.”

“I’m scared, Ami. It’s not just me this time, it’s Callum and Connor who’d suffer if things go bad.”

“They’ll also benefit from having a father in their life.”

“I’m not sure if Max even wants a serious relationship.”

Ami sat back, startled surprise blanketing her features. “What makes you say that?”

“He told me he doesn’t do casual relationships with single moms.”

Ami brought a finger to her mouth. “I believe the key word here is ‘casual.’ Max isn’t the kind to go in and out of a child’s life. He knows what that feels like.”

Prim was embarrassed to admit the thought gave her a spurt of hope. She flipped the recipe card over in her hands.

“And it isn’t as if you’re walking down the aisle tomorrow.”

Prim dropped the card to the table as if it had suddenly turned red-hot. “I didn’t say anything about marriage.”

“First comes love, then comes marriage . . .” Ami said in a singsong tone, her eyes dancing before turning serious. “All I’m saying is give it time, trust your heart.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.” Prim began riffling through the loose recipe cards. “We’re looking for the recipe for lavender cookies with rose water icing, right?”

Ami sighed, obviously sensing the heart-to-heart had come to a close. She picked up one of the recipe books but didn’t open it. “I’ve been through these dozens of times. I’m hoping it’ll be like that bottle of ketchup you’re searching for in the grocery store aisle you can’t find. You ask for help and discover it’s been right in front of you all along.”

The cookies had been Sarah Bloom’s favorite. Though Ami and their mother had made them every year together, once their mother died, Ami had struggled to recall the exact ingredients. None of the variations she tried measured up to the original.

For several minutes, the two women worked in companionable silence as they pored through the books and individual cards.

“I hope you found a way to suitably thank Max for coming to your rescue last night.”

Seeing where this was headed and knowing she couldn’t stop it, Prim set down the cards in her hand. “I said thank you.”

“That’s all?” Ami put a hand to her chest and adopted a faux-shocked expression. “You pull the guy out of bed in the middle of the night and all he gets is a peck on the cheek and a thank-you?”

“It was a nice kiss,” Prim muttered.
A very nice kiss.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Curiosity danced in her sister’s eyes, and for a second Prim was reminded of the nosy older sister who was always trying to steal her diary. “Open mouthed or closed?”

Prim’s lips twitched. “MYOB.”

“Open. Good.”

Prim laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I don’t know how your husband puts up with you.”

Ami leaned forward. “I’m great in bed.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes.”

“Don’t be such a prude. And don’t tell me having sex with Max didn’t cross your mind.” Ami’s tone invited confidences.

Prim flushed. “Regardless of how, ah, enticing that might sound, you forget I have two little boys in my house.”

“You forget you have a sister in town.” Ami shot her a sunny smile. “Anytime you get the urge, bring them here. Beck and I would love to watch them while you have sex with Max.”

Prim rolled her eyes. “Ami . . .”

“I’m serious. It’s time to put all those lascivious thoughts into action.”

Prim swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat at the thought. She lifted the mug to her lips, took a long drink, and picked up a recipe card.

C
hapter
E
leven

“Finally.” Beck dropped the plastic utensils in his hand on the table and rose.

“What is it?” Max kept his eyes focused on the task in front of him. Who knew rolling silverware took such concentration?

“The womenfolk cometh.”

Max’s heart gave a lurch. He scrambled to his feet to stand beside Beck. He’d been waiting all morning for Prim to show up.

Maybe it was the blue-green color of her dress or the way her hair hung loose around her shoulders, the hints of red in it as vibrant as the rising sun, but as Prim made her way across the courtyard, she reminded him of a sea goddess rising from the mist.

“If they didn’t keep stopping to talk to everyone and their dog, they’d be here by now,” Max sputtered. “How many times can two women stop and start?”

“The problem is, between the two of them they know practically everyone here,” Beck said in a resigned tone. “They have to stop and say hello.”

That may have been true with all the others, but they did more than simply say hello to David and Clay Chapin. Granted, Prim spent a minute speaking to Brynn, David’s young daughter.

But when she shifted her attention and smiled at Clay, a tightness gripped his chest. Clay had always been popular with the ladies. You’d never see the high school principal spending time on a sudoku puzzle or a magic cube. For a second, Max forgot he considered Clay to be a friend.

Beck slapped Max on the shoulder and jerked his head toward Prim and Clay. “They make a nice-looking couple.”

Two could play this game.

“David and Ami?” Max slammed the ball neatly back into Beck’s court. “They do look good together. Too bad they’re both married.”

Beck’s scowl had him grinning. When he saw Prim walk away from Clay, he relaxed and returned his attention to rolling plastic silverware into paper napkins.

Despite staying focused on the task, Max knew the instant Prim walked up. He inhaled the fresh citrus scent he was coming to associate with her and lifted his head.

She stood before him, two spots of color high in her cheeks. “Hi, Max.”

“Hi.” He searched her face. “How are you feeling this morning? I hope you were able to get some sleep last night.”

“I’m fine. I, ah, had a little difficulty drifting off.” She waved a vague hand. “All the excitement and everything.”

Her gaze met his, and he found himself wondering, hoping, some of that difficulty was because of him.

Prim turned to her sister. “I know you’re making the pancakes. What’s my assignment?”

Before Ami could respond, Beck stepped forward and greeted his wife by pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly. “I missed you.”

Ami looped her arms around his neck. “I missed you, too.”

Max made a gagging sound. When they turned to him, he lifted a hand to his mouth, as if covering a cough.

Beck scowled.

Ami looked amused.

Max swore he heard Prim chuckle.

Beck kissed his wife’s forehead, then stepped back. “While you make pancakes, I’ll supervise the sausages coming from the kitchen. Dakota is going to be the roving troubleshooter. She’ll let us know if any position requires additional help.”

Beck turned to him. “You’re in charge of adding sausages to the pancake plates.”

Max shrugged. “Wherever I’m needed.”

Ami picked a clipboard off a nearby table, frowned. “Prim is on the list to supervise the refreshment table.”

“Okay.” Prim glanced around.

“You’ll be way over there.” Ami pointed to a freestanding oasis a good distance from the food tables. About as far from Max and his sausage duty as she could get. “You job is to make sure we don’t run out of coffee and juice.”

Prim glanced at Max, lifted her shoulders, and let them fall. “Sure.”

Steve arrived with the twins to grab Prim for a few minutes before the pancake feed commenced. Max watched the end of the parade with the Chapin family.

Brynn, David’s daughter, was a pretty little girl with blond hair and big blue eyes. She wore a short, pink ballerina skirt and a T-shirt displaying the face of a princess holding a glittery wand.

“Brynn is looking forward to starting T-ball.” David smiled down at his daughter, then back up at Max. “It was nice of you to step up and agree to coach.”

Max smiled at the child in the frilly skirt eating a wad of rainbow cotton candy.

“Katie Ruth called me three times to ask if I’d volunteer. The last time she said she was desperate.” Max cocked his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t do it. You have a child on the team and you’re more than qualified. If I recall correctly, you played varsity ball in college.”

David glanced at his daughter, who’d stuffed the last of the cotton candy in her mouth, obviously anticipating the candy-tossing clowns who were now less than a block away.

“I considered it, but practice is during a time when I’m usually on a conference call.” David, a successful architect and partner in a Chicago firm, worked primarily out of his home.

“Let Whitney know I can take Brynn to practice when she’s out of town,” Clay told his brother.

“I’m not counting on Whitney. These days she’s gone more than she’s home.” Irritation mixed with frustration in David’s tone. As if he’d said more than he’d intended, he clamped his mouth shut. “I appreciate the offer, Clay. But I’ve already arranged for Camille to take and pick up.”

Max cocked his head. “Camille?”

“Brynn’s nanny,” David explained. “The woman is a gem.”

“I didn’t realize Whitney worked outside of the home.” Max tried to recall what he knew about the socialite whom David had met and married nearly a decade earlier while living in Chicago.

“She doesn’t.” David’s tone was measured and gave no indication of his feelings on the matter. “She travels a lot and doesn’t like being tied down with the day-to-day.”

A voice over the PA system gave a five-minute warning for pancake feed volunteers to take their stations. Max looked for Prim as he took his spot, but people had already begun lining up, and they blocked his view of the refreshment table.

Gladys Bertholf nudged him not-so-softly with one bony elbow. “Those plates are going to need sausages on them.”

Max had been startled when he’d learned Eliza had assigned the ninety-six-year-old to sausage duty. As volunteer jobs went, it was a relatively fast-paced one.

As the feeding frenzy began, he quickly discovered Gladys was more into supervising than doing any actual work. When she wasn’t telling him to pick up the pace, she was socializing.

“See and be seen” appeared to be her mantra.

She definitely stood out in her leopard-print dress and filmy purple cape. No mundane red, white, and blue for the woman with the jet-black hair and bold skunk stripe. But it wasn’t just Gladys’s flamboyant appearance that drew people to her; her vivacious personality made her stand out in any crowd.

She chatted and preened while Max rushed to do her job and his, too. But she was so obviously enjoying the day that he couldn’t hold her lack of initiative against her.

“How’s it going here?” Dakota, holding a clipboard and looking festive in blue shorts and an Uncle Sam tee, took in the situation.

Since Max was on a dead run, Gladys spoke with the girl. After a couple of minutes Dakota nodded and moved on.

“Is she getting another person to help us?” Max asked, grabbing another pan of sausages as the line backed up.

Surprise skittered across the woman’s face. “I think two is more than adequate,” she told him. “Although I did mention to Dakota—isn’t that a lovely name?—that I was getting fatigued.”

Can a person get worn out from too much talking?
Max dismissed the uncharitable thought the moment it arose.

Gladys was elderly—though he’d never use that word within her hearing—and right now her cheeks appeared a bit flushed. Although it might be simply a case of too much rouge.

“I requested Dakota send over another volunteer,” Gladys continued, then stepped forward to greet another friend.

Five more minutes passed. Gladys continued to socialize, although she seemed to now be hyping
George M
, the musical that would open at the community playhouse next week. A musical in which she had a starring role.

“Dakota said you needed me?”

Max’s head jerked up at the familiar lilting voice, then he realized Prim wasn’t speaking to him. Her gaze was focused on Gladys, who was all smiles.

“Thank you so much for coming.” The older woman held out both hands to Prim, air-kissed each of her cheeks. “You’re just in time.”

Prim smiled hesitantly. “What can I help you with?”

The line had backed up again, so Max didn’t wait for the answer. He returned to adding sausages to the platters of pancakes.

Suddenly Prim was beside him, grabbing sausages with the extra set of tongs Gladys hadn’t once touched.

He slanted a sideways glance. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? Gladys asked me to exchange places with her. She said the pace was too slow for her.”

Max couldn’t help but grin. Almost immediately he and Prim fell into a comfortable rhythm that kept the food lines flowing smoothly. Working side by side with Prim had turned the overcast day bright and sunny.

“Max. Prim. Big smiles.”

Heads close together, they glanced up at the same time.

Gladys snapped a picture. After glancing at her phone to check the shot, the older woman beamed. “You two make the cutest couple.”

Without another word, the star of community theater swept off into the crowd.

“What just happened?” Max asked.

“I’d say we were punked.” Prim laughed and shook her head. “By a real pro.”

“How was the pancake feed?” Steve Bloom leaned back in his deck chair, the picture of contentment in a madras shirt, Bermuda shorts, and slip-on sneakers.

“Judging by the crowds, I’d say a huge success.” Prim lifted the glass of sun tea her father had pressed on her when she’d arrived to pick up the boys.

“The boys wanted to come home and play, so we didn’t stay long.” Her dad’s gaze settled on his soaking-wet grandsons, a fond smile on his lips. “I’m glad you brought their suits.”

“I thought they might want to run through the sprinkler.” She winced as a water balloon hit Connor square in the face. But her youngest only laughed with glee and pelted his brother in the chest. “I’m sure this is much more fun.”

“They’re great boys, Prim.” He slanted a glance at her as he sipped his tea. “I’m so happy you moved back. Three hours away was three hours too far.”

“You know I loved Milwaukee.” She leaned back in the Adirondack chair and smiled. “But Good Hope is home.”

“Losing that job of yours ended up being a blessing in disguise.”

“It did.” When the company she’d worked for since college had been bought out and she’d been offered a severance package, she’d taken the money and run . . . straight back to Good Hope.

Prim took a long drink of tea and lifted her face to the sun, reveling in the warmth on her skin. “I hated to uproot the boys, but this way they can grow up surrounded by family.”

“With the money from the insurance settlement, you’ll be able to stay at home with the boys.”

“I’ll probably find something part-time once they’re back in school, but you’re right, it does give me some options.” Prim sighed. “I just wished it didn’t feel like blood money.”

“Your husband lost his life because someone in that factory didn’t do his job. You should be able to count on a climbing harness doing its job.” Steve’s face turned grave. “Rory should have been able to count on it.”

“I know. That’s why I pursued the case.” Prim had let her lawyers do their best, not just for Rory but for his sons. Because of the money she’d soon receive, instead of rushing the twins to day care every morning, then picking them up with just enough time for dinner, baths, and a bedtime story, she was able to be at home with her boys.

“Earth to Prim.”

Her father’s teasing words had her turning in his direction.

“Sorry, Dad.” She offered an apologetic smile. “I didn’t sleep well last night after all the commotion, and I’m a bit spacy.”