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Authors: Brandy Bruce

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BOOK: Second Chance Cafe
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“Because I want to know you.”

She looked back up at him, unable to resist. “That’s a heavy question, Ethan. It’s not something I can answer over mediocre coffee in the staff room. But I promise you that I will answer it. When I’m ready.”

She liked that he didn’t push. His eyes were patient, interested but patient.

“Last question. Will you have dinner with me, Isa?”

Isabella felt her smile start way down inside her and work its way to her face.

“Not yet, Ethan Carter.”

His smile corresponded with her own, and Isabella realized that they were evenly matched. He liked the chase. And as much as she tried not to, Isabella liked it, too.

Chapter 4

T
en days had passed since Ethan brought Isabella breakfast. Ten days of chatting and flirting online and a few phone calls, but Isabella hadn’t yet relented on a dinner date. The truth was she hadn’t had time. Sunday afternoon she stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the situation at her parents’ home. She’d agreed to paint the living room for her mother. Her sister-in-law lowered herself to the sofa, her hand rubbing her swollen belly. Isa glanced over at her.

“Mandy?”

Mandy waved her off. “I’m fine. Tired. Uncomfortable. Enormous. But other than that, fine.”

Isa knew that at a week past her due date, Mandy wasn’t exaggerating.
Uncomfortable
was an understatement.

“I won’t be able to help you, Isa,” Mandy said apologetically.

“Don’t even worry about it. Just try to wait to have the baby until Leo’s back from the restaurant.”

“Unfortunately, I can probably accomplish that,” Mandy lamented. “Tell me about the firefighter.”

Isa shrugged. “He brought me chocolate pastries for breakfast last week. He calls me. We chat online a lot. I’m thinking about saying yes to a dinner date.”

“You know the fact that he’s brought you chocolate
pastry is a sign that he’s a keeper, right?”

Isa didn’t answer. She dipped a roller into the paint in front of her and started painting one of the walls in her parents’ living room. Her mother, the consummate decorator, would examine every inch of the wall, no doubt. It had taken time, but Isa had come to realize that her mother’s rather newfound need to redecorate parts of her home was in response to her inability to control any part of her husband’s health. And as someone who understood the frustration of being unable to control or help, Isa would paint the walls if her mother needed her to.

“You should go into the kitchen, Mandy. I don’t want the paint fumes to bother you.”

Mandy sighed and pushed herself up. “This little Romano had better make an appearance soon.”

“He’s an Italian. He’ll come when he’s ready,” Isa said, infusing her words with a flawless Italian accent and animated hand motions. Mandy laughed.

Isa painted until her arms ached and then went to check on her father. The Parkinson’s had so affected his body that he stayed mostly at home, venturing out only for doctors’ appointments. The medications that had helped restrain his symptoms for some time were starting to wane in their effectiveness. A visiting nurse came every few days to help and a live-in maid did most of the cooking and cleaning for her parents.

She tapped on the bedroom door before poking her head in. Her father reclined on the bed, watching television. His eyes brightened at the sight of Isabella. Isa smiled in response and entered the room.

“Hey, Dad.”

He jerked as he nodded at her. As usual, Isa stuffed the ache in her heart as far down as possible, plastering a smile on her face.

She walked to the windows on the far side of the room. The drapes were drawn back and in the distance, Isa could see the mountains. The room was both functional and completely beautiful. Soothing gray and muted yellow filled the space. A soft gray love seat sat tucked into a bay window. Windows, mirrors, vases filled with fresh flowers, a flat-screen television mounted on the wall—her mother had made sure that Gabriel Romano’s bedroom was more than comfortable. After enjoying the view, Isa moved to the bed, tucked a blanket over her father’s legs and kissed the top of his head.

“Tell me about you, Isa,” he said with effort.

“Gladly. It’s one of my favorite topics,” she said, kicking off her shoes and enjoying the smile that reached her father’s eyes. She hopped up on the bed and stole the remote, flipping through channels and talking about work, about Ethan and their breakfast date at the fire station, about everything, because she knew her dad just liked the sound of her voice. Eventually, she looked over and saw that he was asleep. Her throat was dry. She made her way to the kitchen, where her mother was inspecting groceries.

“Ana went shopping. She forgot zucchini.”

Isabella opened the refrigerator. “Mom, seriously, just call Leo and ask him to bring some over.”

Her mother shook her head. “Mandy left and Leo was meeting her at home. The baby will be here any minute. He needs to stay with her.”

Isabella poured a glass of lemonade. “How do you like the living room?”

Her mother washed a cluster of grapes before setting them in a bowl. “Beautiful. The color is perfect. I like the blue.” Her mother smiled at her. “Thank you, daughter.”

Isabella popped a grape in her mouth. “No problem.”

“Tell me about the firefighter,” her mother said with a knowing grin.

Isa rolled her eyes. “Who told you? Everyone keeps asking me about him! Why does everyone talk so much in this family?”

“You’re one to ask,” her mother countered with a chuckle. Isa couldn’t think of a comeback.

“Fine. He’s really good-looking. He’s tall. He likes me. He likes to cook.”

Her mother blinked in surprise. “He cooks?”

Isa nodded, taking a handful of grapes. “He used to cook for the firemen. And he bakes. He made me a chocolate croissant and it was fabulous.”

“Maybe he’s the one,” her mother said, almost to herself.

Isa couldn’t stop herself from laughing out loud. “Because he can make a fabulous chocolate croissant?”

Her mother didn’t answer, but her smile didn’t fade.

“Are you ready to find the one?” she asked.

Isa looked at the grapes in her hand. “Maybe.”

Her mother leaned over the counter, giving Isa her undivided attention. “Have you ever been in love, Isabella?”

Isa considered the question. She thought over the guys she’d dated since college. A long list of crushes and casual relationships, if they could even be called relationships.

“Over and over, Mom. I fall in love too easily.” The admission sent a burst of displeasure through Isa’s heart.

“Being in love isn’t the same as having a crush or being swept away by emotions. Being in love—and being loved in return—it’s like changing directions. And it’s okay if you haven’t experienced that yet.”

“But it’s not!” Isa pushed back. “I’m twenty-seven. I’ve gone out with lots of guys. I’ve wanted to be married and to be a mother since I played with dolls as a child. Why hasn’t that happened for me yet? I love being in love. But it never lasts. There’s all this excitement at the beginning. Then it always fizzles. I’ve never dated someone whom I could really picture myself with for the rest of my life. And even if I could, eventually he couldn’t picture himself with me. I’m tired of being disappointed. I’m tired of waiting! And I refuse to keep falling in love so carelessly. Remember Peter? I thought I would marry him.”

Her mother bit her lip and Isa knew it was in an attempt to hide a smile. “You were fourteen.”

“See? I have a long history of being wrong about guys.”

Isabella stood up and walked over to the sink, turning the water on to wash her hands and to avoid eye contact with her mother.

“This isn’t what I envisioned for my life. What if I never should have become a nurse?”

“You’re a gifted nurse, Isa,” her mother told her.

“I keep looking at Mandy and thinking…will I ever have a baby? Will I ever find someone who loves me like Leo loves her?”

Her mother walked over and stood next to her, placing a comforting arm around Isa’s shoulders.

“Yes,” she answered with calm, tender assurance. “You will. Be patient. Have faith.”

Isa didn’t respond.

I’ve been patient. I’ve had faith. Neither has gotten me where I want to be.

Her thoughts were followed by a stream of guilt. She knew she should have more faith. She wished she could trust without questioning. She wished she could be content with her life.

But her heart fought her. Contentment escaped her. She wanted more.

“I have to go, Mom. I’m working tonight and I need to go home and rest.”

Her mother kissed both her cheeks.

“Io sono venuto perché abbiano la vita e l’abbiano in abbondanza.”

The words, spoken in Italian, circled Isabella; she wanted to hold on to them, to somehow know they were true.

I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.

The verse was her mother’s reminder that Jesus had big wishes for her, too. An abundant life.

“What about Dad?” Isabella’s words were barely audible. Her father, a man of great faith, lay weak in the next room. What about his life?

Her mother smoothed Isabella’s hair.

“An abundant life isn’t necessarily an easy life. But it’s beautiful.”

* * *

At nine-fifty that night, Isabella put her purse and jacket in her locker in the staff room and slammed the locker door shut.

“Easy there, girlfriend.”

“Mags, I thought you were off tonight,” Isabella said, doing a once-over glance to make sure her friend seemed well. Maggie shrugged.

“Carol asked me to cover her shift and I could use the hours. José and I are trying to save money before the baby comes. Ow!”

“What?” Isabella rushed to her side. Maggie grabbed Isa’s hand and pressed it to the top of her belly. Isabella felt a jab.

“Oh, wow!” Isa grinned as she felt another kick. With her hand pressed to Maggie’s belly, feeling the movement of her unborn baby, Isa tried to stifle feelings of longing. The two women walked out to the E.R. together and Isabella thought of how she felt surrounded by pregnant women, an ever-present reminder of the joy of love and marriage—two things that seemed out of her reach. She squelched the ache. Surely her time would come. She thought of her mother.

I need to put my hopes and wishes in God’s hands.

If only she could trust that they’d be safe there.

Another stab of guilt pricked her. She pushed away thoughts of God and faith—or lack of faith.

“How’s your sister-in-law doing?” Maggie asked.

“They’re going to induce in three days.”

At the sound of someone crying out for help, both nurses took off running toward the E.R. entrance.

After five hours, two car accident victims, one broken arm, two high fevers and a stomach virus that had resulted in dehydration, the E.R. finally slowed down and Isa checked her cell phone for any messages. She saw one from Ethan. He’d sent it a little before midnight.

Brunch tomorrow? O’Brien’s by the firehouse?

Isa couldn’t think of a reason to say no. She wanted to see those blue eyes again. And brunch with Ethan would give her something to look forward to for the next few hours. She texted back that she’d meet him there at 10 a.m.

Once her shift ended, Isa rushed home to change, then stopped by her parents’ house to check on her dad, checking his vitals and making sure he’d taken his meds. She spoke with the visiting nurse for a few minutes before leaving to meet Ethan. He sat in a small booth by the window and waved her over.

“You’re not in your scrubs. I was sort of hoping you’d be wearing the Charlie Brown ones,” he mentioned as she slid into the booth across from him.

“So you like seeing me in scrubs,” she flirted.

Ethan smiled. “Is that a question?”

“Not really,” Isabella answered, and Ethan laughed out loud.

“How was your doctor’s appointment this morning?” Isabella asked, watching closely to read Ethan’s response. She saw defeat cloud his eyes and she reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

“The doctor said they’ll do an X-ray Friday morning to see if the bone has healed and whether I can begin therapy.”

“That’s a good thing, Ethan. You’re making progress.”

“I suppose. It’s frustrating. I’ve been wearing this back brace for five weeks. I feel like I’ve been doing nothing for days and days. Just sitting around, waiting to heal. I’m used to being busy. I’m used to cooking at the firehouse, loading up my gear, rushing out to fight fires or respond to emergencies. This…nothingness…is really getting to me. This isn’t who I am.”

“You’re healing, Ethan. That’s what matters. Give it time. And prepare yourself for the physical therapy. It’s not going to be as easy as you think.”

“You’re probably right. But I’m ready and willing to start as soon as I can.”

After ordering a plate of scrambled eggs and toast and a cappuccino, Isabella took a good look at the little café.

“So is this where the firefighters hang out? Seems a little dreary to me.”

Ethan nodded. “I know. But what do you think about the location? It’s pretty good, right? And what about the size of the restaurant? Not too big but not too small. The kitchen was updated a few months ago, so it’s in great shape.”

Isabella raised her eyebrows. “Exactly what kind of conversation are we having here? I feel like you’re trying to sell me on this hole-in-the-wall café.”

Ethan sighed. “It’s for sale. The owner wants me to buy it.”

Isabella coughed. “Buy it? You want to buy a café? What about the whole fireman thing? Isn’t that your career?”

Ethan nodded. “Yes. Absolutely. But look at me, Isa. I’m going crazy at home. I want to be doing something. The restaurant thing… Well, I’ve always been sort of interested in owning a place like this.”

“A dreary place with so-so scrambled eggs and torn vinyl booths?”

Ethan didn’t respond. Isabella kept her concentration on her plate of scrambled eggs, trying to understand why she was suddenly feeling so upset. She knew she’d hurt Ethan’s feelings. But she’d already told him how she felt about restaurant life. If she’d been hesitant about dating him before, he had to know this wouldn’t help. Her cell phone buzzed and she grabbed it, grateful for a distraction from the awkward moment. She gasped at the message.

Baby’s coming. Can you meet us at the hospital?

“My sister-in-law is in labor!” Isabella immediately punched in Leo’s number and held up her hand for Ethan to wait.

“Leo? How’s Mandy?”

“Her water broke and she started having contractions. We’re on our way to the hospital. Mandy’s nervous.”

“I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Isabella hung up the phone, her heart pounding. “I have to go, Ethan.” She slung her purse over her shoulder.

BOOK: Second Chance Cafe
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